I admit it, I think it's cool when we're making pictures in the street and we meet someone who's semi-famous. Like in Budapest. When we stopped her, she just seemed like she was just a pretty blonde woman talking to someone in the street. Here's the photo we made of her:
It turns out that she's an Hungarian celebrity, Gabi Toth, who won the Hungarian equivalent of American Idol several years ago. Her public personae, which is highly sexual, is really nothing like the modest, quiet young woman we photographed. Take a look at one of her videos. Hey...who knew?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tX8L15Xkyo4
Monday, March 30, 2015
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
Searching for Danielle
Of course I've been quite excited that I won an international portfolio competition (along with two other photographers) and that twenty pieces of my work are being shown next month at the Soho Photo Gallery. I was further delighted when I was told that the signature image for the gallery show's promotional postcard would be my portrait of a woman named Danielle Santos Bernal who wrote in the notebook, "This man's a lady."
Naturally, I wanted to let each of the twenty portrait subjects know that their image would be shown, and so I set to emailing them. Unfortunately, the email I had for Danielle bounced back, and I had no other immediate way to connect with her. So I did what most people would do in order to find her: I Googled.
The Google listings were thin. And then I came upon this "director's statement" for a movie called The Last Fast Ride. The statement begins with this:
"I first met Marian Anderson in the early ‘90’s at a party at our friend Nathan’s house in the San Fernando Valley. I was warned to stay away from her or I might get beat up by her crazy girlfriend, Danielle Santos Bernal". (You can read about the film here)
With a little further digging on the 'net I found a mailing address for Danielle in California. I wrote to her, told her about the exhibit and sent her the promotional card with her photo. So I had to hope she'd remember our photographic encounter last June, and pleased that she'd been featured in the promo. After all, I certainly didn't want her to get upset, come back to NY and beat me up.
Turns out I fretted for nothing. Turns out Danielle was thrilled with her picture and contacted me to tell me so. She also wrote this poignant observation:
"I can't believe people are interested in my mug! All my life I've been looked as one thing but I'm the opposite of what is perceived, so thank you! Butch women have always been taboo even now in the media,on the streets... So this means a lot 2 me! I'm not trans. I'm just butch as fuck an very proud of it! My only hope one day we as butch women will be more accepted and not have 2 femme up 2 get that job or think we need 2 be men 2 be complete! Or actually in main stream films have a butch get that part in a film and not some femme woman tryin 2 pull it off! This means more than you know! Yer pal D.S.B."
Naturally, I wanted to let each of the twenty portrait subjects know that their image would be shown, and so I set to emailing them. Unfortunately, the email I had for Danielle bounced back, and I had no other immediate way to connect with her. So I did what most people would do in order to find her: I Googled.
The Google listings were thin. And then I came upon this "director's statement" for a movie called The Last Fast Ride. The statement begins with this:
"I first met Marian Anderson in the early ‘90’s at a party at our friend Nathan’s house in the San Fernando Valley. I was warned to stay away from her or I might get beat up by her crazy girlfriend, Danielle Santos Bernal". (You can read about the film here)
With a little further digging on the 'net I found a mailing address for Danielle in California. I wrote to her, told her about the exhibit and sent her the promotional card with her photo. So I had to hope she'd remember our photographic encounter last June, and pleased that she'd been featured in the promo. After all, I certainly didn't want her to get upset, come back to NY and beat me up.
Turns out I fretted for nothing. Turns out Danielle was thrilled with her picture and contacted me to tell me so. She also wrote this poignant observation:
"I can't believe people are interested in my mug! All my life I've been looked as one thing but I'm the opposite of what is perceived, so thank you! Butch women have always been taboo even now in the media,on the streets... So this means a lot 2 me! I'm not trans. I'm just butch as fuck an very proud of it! My only hope one day we as butch women will be more accepted and not have 2 femme up 2 get that job or think we need 2 be men 2 be complete! Or actually in main stream films have a butch get that part in a film and not some femme woman tryin 2 pull it off! This means more than you know! Yer pal D.S.B."
Friday, March 20, 2015
Maintaining Control
Richard Avedon has written:
"A portrait photographer depends upon another person to complete his picture....My concerns are not his. We have separate ambitions for the image. His need to plead his case probably goes as deep as my need to plead mine, but the control is with me."
A portrait really is about needing to control, and generally I have little need to overtly exercise it because most portrait subjects expect to be directed by the photographer. That's why I was a little startled and amused by the charming teenager, Osmar, when I prepared to photograph him in Oaxaca last month.
As I placed Osmar against the wall so that the swirling graffiti would frame is full head of hair, he momentarily balked at his placement. It turned out he didn't like the small, odd remnants of paper from previously torn off posters. I told him I would remove them by Photoshop, but he demurred, insisting that we move over to a clean part of the wall. Then it was my turn to demur; pointing out that the wall markings were an important part of the composition. Osmar smiled, and declared "If this wall is essential, then I will fix it." And with that he began removing every small scrap of paper from the background for the next ten minutes.
As Avedon stated, "We have separate ambitions for the image." So much for my taking total control.
"A portrait photographer depends upon another person to complete his picture....My concerns are not his. We have separate ambitions for the image. His need to plead his case probably goes as deep as my need to plead mine, but the control is with me."
A portrait really is about needing to control, and generally I have little need to overtly exercise it because most portrait subjects expect to be directed by the photographer. That's why I was a little startled and amused by the charming teenager, Osmar, when I prepared to photograph him in Oaxaca last month.
As I placed Osmar against the wall so that the swirling graffiti would frame is full head of hair, he momentarily balked at his placement. It turned out he didn't like the small, odd remnants of paper from previously torn off posters. I told him I would remove them by Photoshop, but he demurred, insisting that we move over to a clean part of the wall. Then it was my turn to demur; pointing out that the wall markings were an important part of the composition. Osmar smiled, and declared "If this wall is essential, then I will fix it." And with that he began removing every small scrap of paper from the background for the next ten minutes.
As Avedon stated, "We have separate ambitions for the image." So much for my taking total control.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Searching For Walls
Erica |
Eric |
Yesenia |
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
The Very Young, The Very Old
I have discovered over years of making formal street portraits that, quite typically, the very young and the very young present themselves similarly to the camera: with obvious unselfconscious confidence. This generalization seems to hold up everywhere.
In Oaxaca, Mexico last week, for example, these are the portraits of five year-old, Luz, and eighty year-old MaElena. Each fills the frame with "presence." Each exudes a self-assurance that neither adolescents nor mature adults can match.
In Oaxaca, Mexico last week, for example, these are the portraits of five year-old, Luz, and eighty year-old MaElena. Each fills the frame with "presence." Each exudes a self-assurance that neither adolescents nor mature adults can match.
Luz |
MaElena |
Thursday, March 5, 2015
Good For A Giggle
Let's step away from "serious" photography for a moment. I made this shot of a design shop window last summer in Budapest. It's like, the ultimate photographer's selfie.