Sunday, May 2, 2010

Sometimes. . .

"Prom Dress: The Series"

Sometimes the best things happen when you don't know what you are doing but you have prepared yourself well for doing it.  I shot this on Thursday.  I didn't want to.  I was worn out and uninspired and had a bad feeling about this date for the entire week.  The woman I was working with (I hate saying "model" and "shooting") called and said she would be late.  Her MUA (oh my!) had crapped out on her at the last minute and so she had gone to a friend's salon to get made up.  She said something about looking like a '50s drag queen which was not the era or the style I had intended, and so my heart sunk a bit further.  I had nothing around to shoot her with.  I lay on the couch in my studio and wanted to go to sleep.  As I lay there, I decided the only thing for me to do was to place her against the empty canvas and photograph her there.  She was bringing two dresses with her, she had told me.  I would simply shoot a pack of film with each dress and say goodbye.

She was tall and strange, young and wary, and she definitely wanted only to shoot what she wanted.  Whatever.  The first dress she pulled out was a vintage 1940's two piece purple gown with formal gloves.  Well, at least there was that.  She wore a wig and looked a bit like Jessica Rabbit.  You'll see in the coming days.  And then, she changed into this--her mother's prom dress from the mid-1960's, she said.  And she put on a platinum wig.  I must admit two things:  I did not hold up my end of the conversation, and I was beginning to like some of the Polaroid images we were making.  I asked her to remove the wig if she would.  It was best, I thought.  Now she looked real.  And I was laughing at myself heard what was coming from my mouth.  Suddenly, I was talking like a movie version of a photographer: "Put your left shoulder back more and put the other hand on your hip.  Tilt your head up just slightly."  She had seen my images lying around the studio.  "You've done this pose too man times," she told me.  "Nope," I said, "I want the repetition.  I want a hundred photos just like that."  I felt she had no confidence.

During the making of pictures (I almost said "shoot"), my old Polaroid 600 SE began to ruin film.  And so, after shooting (oops) with her that late afternoon, I felt fairly ruined.  And that night, as I've already reported, I felt hopeless.  Sell the cameras and close up shop.

But yesterday, I finally finished processing the Polaroids the way I do, and brought them home.  I chose a single image at random to scan and work on to send her knowing I have many other photos to work on before I get to hers.  And this is what emerged last night late just before I went to bed.  I was knocked out and went to sleep feeling a hopeful relief.  Could it all work out?  Am I ready to do this?  Possibly.  There was a feeling, if not of hope, of possible relief.

I'm glad I have my comments turned off because I am in a moment of crisis and could not stand any helpful criticism just now.  I don't want to hear, I don't want to hear.  I am listening to the imaginary viewers in my head.  "Yes, oh my, this is wonderful," they are saying.  "You are on to something there."

It is a self-defense, a necessity of the psyche to hold itself together for the moment.  I have four more people with whom I will work this coming week.  I am all fear and doubt.  But maybe. . . I'll get lucky.  I mean, I've been preparing myself for this. . . right?  Sometimes the best things happen when you don't know what you are doing but you have prepared yourself well for doing it.

No comments:

Post a Comment