Nana and the ghost.
Anatomy of a photo session I
Two years ago, my late publisher, Michel Moret, asked me to write a book untitled, “confession of a photographer”. Michel was a brilliant man, a discreet intellectual who used his talents to promote others’ work for the better good. He was also a handsome man, who loved women, a lot, and was also very loved by them in return. I guess he imagined a book full of steamy details and adventures “risquées”.
Well, a photo session may get steamy and adventurous, by example when you take out your phone to picture your half-naked and very blushing girlfriend, or try making “art” with your high school friend, helped by your hormone and a borrowed Leica M. When you earn your living working with models, it becomes a serious business, done by professionals on behalf of paying clients. The frolicking and tantalising part is an act for the public, and the results pay the rent, the car and the drinks.
No one sane would think an actress playing a hot adulterous scene in a movie is having an affair on set, but, when talking about models sitting for a photographer, it seems there is a lingering myth about what happend during photo session.
Consequently, having nothing to write, confession-wise, I had to decline his offer; ultimately we worked out another project and settled for another book where I comment a selection of pictures with my shooting notes.
I still have no sensational confession to make in relation with my photo session, but I wanted to expand my comment and share my experiences, and reflections.
Of Castle and folding camera
Western Switzerland is packed with small castles. Although the term “castle” here is quite loosely used and cover a range of structures extending from glorified town hall to high walled defensive forts. To illustrate their number, the county of Vaud (the fourth largest in Switzerland) officially register around 60 of them, in a territory of 3200skm (a fiftieth of the state of New York).
Having lost their original defensive purpose throughout the ages, some are still owned by the same family who commissioned them, some were passed to the “commune” they belonged to and host some of their public services, others were sold to wealthy individuals and converted to residences. The medieval “Château d’Oron” is a very well-preserved example of the later. Documentation diverge on the reasons behind it, but the last owner’s descendant sold it in 1936 to a local association aiming at its preservation.
Castles are not my decor of choice, and I’d exchange one against a concrete wall any day. But, sometime, chance pushes you toward the unexpected.
End of last year I had my Linhof Technika III revised. To check if everything was in order, along the road back home I stopped near a small medieval castle. I set my tripod on a small gravel road just in front of the entrance and started the usual process of taking a picture with a 4x5" folding camera.
Of course, after 10 minutes, when I was ready to slot the film back for an exposure, a car came behind me. I lifted my tripod and its load and moved aside to let it go through. The car went by, and stopped a few meters away. The motor still running, the driver exited and walked energetically toward me. With a big smile he told me he is the intendant of the castle and I am very welcome to photograph whatever I wanted. We started chatting about photography, castles and the vineyards bellow. At some point, he mentioned the former owner apartment would be a nice place for a photo session. Picturing in my mind dusty stone floor and gilded furniture, I thanked him for the advice and told him I’ll have a look.
Never say never.
In truth, the austere medieval exterior, with its high walls, moat, barbican and grey stonework hide a real gem. The apartments, now part of a small historical museum, is a lengthy set of rooms built “en enfilade” along the eastern superior side of the building. Tastily furnished in late 18th, 19th century and early art nouveau style, the interior stun by its coherence and perfect state of preservation. Not a speck of dust in sight, and the only gilded piece is the frame of a full-size mirror.
A half a day shooting involve quite a lot of preparatory works. In my case, it starts with scouting and finding a proper location, then trying to imagine what story to tell and how. Then, there is the choice of the model and finding her clothes to fit the story and the mood.
As inevitable as the broccoli who has to be eaten before having dessert, there is also some work to be done on the administrative and legal side. Contracts and insurances, models and propriety release, clarifying the financial conditions of the model’s participation and rental of the place, organizing the schedule and transportation…
I did work several times with Anastasia, mostly in my usual disused factory settings. She is a versatile, smart and easygoing model to work with. I thought that for once, being able to touch something without fear of getting lead poisoning, skin cancer or simply getting dirty, while seating for me, would be a nice change for her.
On the S day we were led in the castle by the intendant who, after showing us around, left us to our own devices. It was a very nice sunny day, if not a bit cold; the light was very interesting, Anastasia enthusiastic and I had, for four hours, the floor for myself.
Despite all the preparatory work, once afoot, there is still a lot to do.
It is the moment when the project is confronted with the reality, when surprises arise and certitudes disappears. This is also the time to discuss “in situ” my ideas with the model, get her insights and consider her objections, if any.
Working with a Linhof folding camera and a Polaroid back has its advantages, but none are related to speed of execution, which suits me just fine. Once upon a time… the polaroid back was primarily used as a way to proof our sets, check if everything was as it should be, discuss the picture before using films. Nowadays, the proofing part is done with my digital camera and the polaroid is the star of the show, or should be if everything works as planned.
Take it slow
All in all, I am happy if I can take ten to twenty polaroid or film during a four hours session. Usually I take one or two pictures per scene. I need more or less five minutes to discuss with the model, five for her to get ready and change; five more to take light’s measurements, move or remove some objects or furniture, take a couple of digital pictures to see how it works and adjust pose and scene accordingly, finally a couple of minutes are needed to set the camera.
Add to this five more minutes chatting while waiting for the polaroid to develop and finally, comes either the “Ohhh” or the “damned… something’s not right” before doing the scene again or moving to the next one.
Well, four hours, five rooms, no time to waste. I suspect, the apartment having been converted to a museum, that some rooms may have inherited some furniture and mock purpose different from their original one.
Bedroom. Nineteenth century, beautiful empire bed, huge stone stove decorate with Dutch blue tiles, Persian rugs and nicely parqueted hardwood floor.
Sometime it happend, you see a story, you imagine and draw your scene, you prepare for it, then when it is time to shoot it, nothing. The un-inspiration strike hard and all you have to do is moving on. As we just started, I still went through the motions and took one polaroids, this being done, at last I know the pack 100 I loaded in the back is working.
The next room is a bath-room, simple and elegant.
Following is the drawing room, then the dining room with its large varnished table, hunting scene frescoes and a display case showing a pair of pistols. Although it is common for a 19th century dining room, the ambiance here feels off, solemn and dark despite the sun flowing through the windows, a place bathed in lingering stillness. Anyway, we talk, she poses, I take the picture. We wait for the polaroid to process, and contemplate a perfectly black rectangle… Right, my polaroid pack film are at best 10 years old, a hic up is possible, let’s do it again. Pose, shoot, and five minutes later as a result we got a bleak black rectangle of nothingness.
After another look at the room, we decided to come back to it later on. Further on a small snuggery room (I guess) looks promising. Separated from a larger room by a glass partition, it held two sofas facing each other, the woodwork and the frames are painted in blue pastel tones, a small commode and assorted lithography on the walls complete the ensemble.
With a folding camera the light goes through the lens and project the picture on a frosted glass. A typical lens let through between 4 and 8 times less light than there is on the subject. Consequently, the image appearing on the frosted glass is quite dark. To better see the projected image we use something to obscure the ambient light commonly a large black cloth and a magnifier to help for the details. Now, when taking picture in a place sparsely lit, it may become more guesswork than anything else, especially if your eyes have already fifty years behind them.
After processing the polaroid, we were quite happy with the result, for a minute, before discovering a fun fact… the glass produced by the 19th century glassmaker is not flat. On the picture, if her body was close to the original, her face looked like if she ate an angry bee.
Trying to open the windows pane further was not an option, so we changed the angle and the pose. Which is a good reminder of an ever important lesson from another of my masters “Preparation is key, but within its range, you must be able to improvise, and, believe me, you will have to.”
That being done, we went back to the dining room and its hunting fresco.
I think a ghost may be so vain as not to suffer someone else being the centre of the attention. We left it at that, who knows what these pistols were being used to .
The day ended gloriously with the very friendly and helpful intendant helping us carrying our things and the still drying polaroids to our car. A good deed, rewarded by a glimpse to the polaroids and the modeling version of Anastasia. “You come back when you want!” he said.
Thank you for reading!
These stories aren’t intended as a guide, or a course; everyone is working differently and I sincerely think the way to obtain a good meaningful picture defy every intent to formalize its production (speaking here of artistic work).
Also, we have to accept that the definition of “good and meaningful” vary quite a lot from an individu to another, from a culture to another and that none of them is absolute.
Finally, photography as a form of artistic expression as to be fun, even if done seriously. Do this or do that “because…” is the opposite of creativity.
I don’t say there isn’t anything to learn before working with a camera, but, paraphrasing one of my old teacher, “the camera… that camera you are holding does not take pictures, the human behind it does! ”
“Nowadays, I am chiefly an architectural photographer, on the side, I have a small personal production that end either in books or in art galleries.
Shameless plug, you can find my last book here -> https://www.fr.fnac.ch/a18229553/BLEU-COMME-UNE-FEMME
