Photography Thinks
So, we shot against the wall and then we put up a piece of seamless. Two people held Greg’s black overcoat and jacket. A reflector was added. I didn’t shoot fast enough to get the same shot, but you could see the sculpting on the side of Andrew’s face. The class returned to the classroom to look at American Masters does Richard Avedon
wowe. my latest and greatest master of photography
inspired by august sander, the inventor of the environmental photo, sorry, arnold
Don’t be afraid, dude. If you can do it, do it.
Commercial photographer, Bill Diodato and his studio manager, Max, lectured at Hallmark Institute of Photography. Bill also signed his book, Care of Ward 81, which came with a gift box of images he had distributed to select clients as a business promotion. Both be HIP graduates.
Hard to sit through five hours of looking at his images, as compelling and creative as they were; even he had to say he was tired of showing. But listening to his rap that mixed the craft and business of commercial photography made the presentation overwhelminly rewarding. He brings sharp wit and sharp focus to every job. After more than 20 years on the job, he has little left to prove about his skills, so he is trying to turn out more images that reflect his art, as opposed to his client’s tastes and desires. His is a route to which we all aspire.
Max works way too hard, 80 or so hours a week and doesn’t shoot at all. But to most students at Hallmark, that doesn’t seem too steep a price to pay for the experience needed to take the lessons learned to a more professional and saleable level. While Bill doesn’t seem to like the work for free concept that interns in many fields have to endure these days, the pay for assistants ain’t that good. You can barely put food on the table and pay expenses. Time to move on dude, just like the boss did and see if your eye behind the lens making pictures is as good as your eye in the monitor fixing them.
Heisler lectured in the morning on Tonality by showing the works of several photographers, some known to me, and some new to me: Ansel Adams, Richard Avedon, Julia Margaret-Cameron, Irving Penn, Charles Sheeler, Grant Mudford, Ralph Gibson, Edward and Brett Weston, Edward Weston, Karsh and someone named Missone. He loves them all and decribed, with youthful glee and enthusiasm, their works and how they use blacks and whites to make their images.
Needed to shoot something to clear my head and refocus. Watching the masters can sometimes make you feel that you have nothing to add, so why bother.
Went outside. Warm and bright. No Adams like mountains or Avedon models to shoot. Greg was on his way to lunch. He stopped and pointed to the warehouse across the street and said, “looks like a Mumford to me.” I had thought about it, but there was ice between me and a good shot. I trudged through the snow to avoid the slippery pavement, took my shot and went back for lunch.
I imitated, for sure, but why else do we look at the past?
So, I left this morning to school while the fog covered Greenfield.
So, I left in the mist, arriving in Turners Falls without visibility. Saw a classic–Steichen. Showed it to members of my class. One laughed it off.
Lindsay Adler lectured on fashion, social media and creativity. She made success sound reachable. Young, smart, creative and cute, she has arrived in the fashion capital of the world at an early enough time to make a mark and leave without any. Has control of her life at a time when many haven’t yet figure theirs out.
I told him I had a Steichen in his lecture. Told me I had to wait. He, too, didn’t see mine, butI’d be patient. At the break, I showed him my missed shots from Lindsay’s presentation. We remetered. “Don’t trust the meter always…trust your eye….” Then he metered the shot, showing me I was off from a tenth, which should have been a twenty-fifth or thirtieth. Much betta.
After advising to do as he says and not as he does, Greg Heisler outlined the habits of successful people. Identify the urgent and the important. Work on relationships (not necessarily exclusively through social media), prepare, stay healthy (more important as you age), set goals (realistic ones), and sharpen your tools. THIS IS THE TIME TO DEFINE WHO YOU REALLY ARE.
Its about time for me!
So, we go to Deerfield Village to shoot. Place has a spot in American history, but now, probably best known for the prep school and the stores which tourists visit in fairer weather.
No better place for a photographer than a graveyard, even if your hands are freezing, the ground is icy and crunchy, and there is a dealine.
After a quick lunch, back out.
Different partners.
Different places and depths of field.
So, we received our equipment and started to shoot.
Just into the hall, trying to find some perspective.
In the afternoon, a backlit.
A practical where you metered and then shot DT running across the studio. I clutched. I clutched. Got to be able to work under pressure. Didn’t set my ISO. Then didn’t prefocus. Hand and brain didn’t work together. Forgot all about Zen and the Art of Archery.”
First time in the commercial studio. Transformative. Didn’t think I would like it. But for a change, not having something that didn’t move, which you can light anyway you want, once you know how, can change the way you look at your camera; it was fun. Got to have fun.
Met him in a used bookstore where he was selling used books. “I am a hoarder. Pick up stuff from dumpsters, garbage cans, along the road. Cannot take any medication for it. Have muscular cancer.
Moving along with our lives. Going to Hallmark Institute of Photography in Turner’s Falls MA. Rented an apartment in nearby Greenfield. Needed a haircut and beard trim. Only had to look around the corner for a barber. A red and blue spiral tube gave the location away.
Meet “Red,” the Barber of Greenfield. 62, found retirement boring, went back to his true love, cutting hair. Still shaves the neck, but not the face. No facials. Striped drapes come from 60’s. Sanitary instrument holder is a 40’s antique. He offered bare walls to display my work. Looking forward to him meeting my street people.
