the joy of photography

no caption needed

Blowup it ain't

A glamorous life in advertising photography

It's a safe bet that they won't be making a movie about my life in photography.

FYI - In 1966, the movie Blowup was made, directed by Michelangelo Antonioni. The film concerned itself with the work (and sexual perks) of a London fashion photographer in the "Swinging 60s" played by David Hemmings and was largely based on Bailey. IMO, the film is a great look at the very nature of the photographic image and musings on the very nature of human perception. It has been opined that the film delves into Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle - the notion that any observed happening is altered by the mere presence of an observer. I would agree with that idea and because of that, and IMO, Blowup should definitely be on the list of must-sees for any thinking picture maker.

Even though my life in photography did have its David Bailey-like moments, most of it was filled with moments (some of which seemed to drag on endlessly) that were basically variations on the above posted picture. Sure, sure, there's lots of skin in evidence and my camera does appear to be pointed at my lovely assistant's lovely butt, but, believe me when I say that advertising photography is primarily involved with organization and tending to details.

Many was the time that I sat at the top of veritable pyramid of people tending to their specific details - several photo assistants, props stylists, makeup stylists, wardrobe stylists, food stylists ... it was not uncommon to have 8-10 people involved in the making of a single picture. And, of course, sitting at the top of the pyramid, I was responsible for not only making the picture but also for all of the details involved.

Now, it must be said that sometimes this was a very rewarding experience (especially so when the client was willing to pay seemingly outrageous amounts of $$$$ for a picture). The resulting picture(s) was great (by advertising standards), the client was delighted, and I and my many minions were pleased with a job well done. Everybody went away happy.

However, after 20 years or so of that stuff I was getting very burned out on the whole thing. That mental and emotional state was sorely exacerbated by the fact that, by the early 90s, the entire advertising photography profession was being negatively impacted by economic forces that were shrinking ad budgets, driving day rates way down, and forcing many commercial shooters out of the business.

At that time, I was able to survive by diversifying - adding art direction and design to my marketable skill set. Eventually, my income was pretty evenly split between picture making and design/art direction.

However, that said, I might have dropped the picture making altogether if it were not for my migration to editorial picture making - for periodicals, corporate publications, and books. It's difficult to express how sick I was at the time of making pictures with the sole intent of selling something. My interest in that was approaching nil and it was during that period that I started to question my involvement with photography. I can honestly say that I was ready to cash in and move on to something else ... but ...

Enter editorial photography. It was editorial work that reinvigorated my love of picture making - making pictures that had a meaning and intent that had no "commercial" motivation. Pictures that were intended to tell a story and to make an impression which said something beyond inciting the desire to buy. I really loved making these kind of pictures and, not surprisingly, the resultant images showed it.

I created some of my most memorable and recognizable "professional" pictures during that period. When I was hanging out in bars and trying to pick up chicks, it was very satisfying to mention some of my work and have the object of my affection say something along the lines of, "Hey, I remember that. You took those pictures? Cool."

Prior to that period I had certainly accumulated my share of advertising industry awards but I barely remember or have any evidence of those. What still hangs on my wall are the Golden Quill Awards I received for excellence in communication. These awards, which mean more to me than any other, were garnered primarily for my editorial pictures (with a few corporate annual reports).

And so it goes. Pictures with meaning. To paraphrase a line from Ricky Nelson's Garden Party -

if all I did with the medium of photography was to make pretty pictures, I'd rather drive a truck ... but it's all right now, I learned my lesson well. You see, ya can't please everyone, so you got to please yourself.

Update on Monday, December 1, 2008 at 05:05PM by gravitas et nugalis

Featured Comment: Gordon McGregor wrote: "I was at a few parties/ meals with friends over the last week. I took a lot of pictures and for a change actually got some of them printed out, at a local CVS, via one of them magical Kodak print station thingumy automatic printing machines .... I'd forgotten how much fun it is passing around a stack of 4×6 prints between people who laugh at how silly each other looked the night before and remembered how much fun they had.

my response: One of the joys of Polaroid was exactly what you describe, except of course that passing pictures around and laughing (or whatever) was "instant" - very much the first example of the digital age act of chimping.

Polaroid has attempted to reinvent the "instant" picture with their new Polaroid PoGo, a device that I have been tempted to acquire in order to recapture that "instant" moment magic.

face book

My ex reading a book

It happens every so often, of late most usually at the insistence of the Cinemascapist, that I haul out a medium-size shipping box full of old Polaroid pictures. Sad to say, that box is what passes for a family album, circa 1975 - 1995.

On the other hand, one of the qualities of Polaroid pictures that I appreciate very much is their physical ability to resist all kinds of abuse and/or mishandling - you could, as an example, use them as drink coasters with complete impunity. Consequently, just throwing them in a box as a form is "safe-keeping" is actually a legitimate form of preservation.

The added advantage of a box album is the serendipitous fun that results from sticking your hand into the pile and seeing what you find - none of that chronological organization for me. I much prefer a herky-jerky trip down memory lane. I find that bouncing around through past time with pictures is very much like past time presents itself to my memory in my head.

I don't think that that is very unusual. I mean, how many of you have your memories "filed" in chronological order (or any other kind of order) in your head?

I must say that, if I am granted (at my life's end) the opportunity to peacefully reflect upon my life, I hope that box of Polaroids is close at hand.

oh, say, can you see

Missles and bomber ~ National Museum of the USAF - Dayton, Ohio