The Talented Rey Female

Michael Vasquez Art, Nude Model, Black Haired Model, Figuative, Elegant Nude Mode

I found the lovely Rey Female on Instagram, her images were of a high quality, good pose, very introspective. I had to work with this lady! As she had book work with another photographer, she suggested we shoot that day after. I was sold on that, I got everything I wanted then some as she was just amazing. Her poses were spot on, the way she moved, the way she carried herself, and not last the way she held her hands.

She brought her A+ game! As we started I fell instantly in love with the way she moved. Still photographs, but still a model needs a flow to her. I made minor correction for the feel of our images, but not many. I shoot with film, the hardest part is to get model’s to hold a pose while I change film backs. I told her as I changed film, that we were going to finish early because she had done so well.

I just can’t recommend her higher, she was an absolute dream to work with. I am pleased to say I am busy with ideas already for out next shoot. I look forward to working on the film I have already shot. Thank you Rey Female.

Assisting 100 pt 0

Black and White image,full length shot of a young Caucasian woman wearing a grown.

My first gig as an assistant was gotten for me by my mother. After I had tried working with my mother, doomed from the start. Working with my mother doing collections was hell, she found a small pillow in the closet that she accused me of storing there. Again and again I told her it wasn’t mine, she thought I’d had girls up to her office. One of her girl’s finally said it was hers, I turned on my mother and told her to apologies. I told her that the word she was trying not to say was I’m sorry; no apologies I walked out.

B & W image, late 1960's, high school friend, abandon night club, golf course, female model, white pants suit.

I wanted to do theater work for the school, and since working with the AV Department junior school, now I would be working on school plays. But that wasn’t good enough for the dear, I got the word just as I was about to climb up into the catwalks on a newbie the tour. I did not know what I wanted to make my life work, but I’d know it when I found it, it sure as hell wasn’t working in a 9 to 5 environment. So to make it up to me she found a friend who had a photographer brother. So began a life long obsessions.

Young, dark haired, night gown, old house in the countryside, overgrown weeds.

I had seen the ​​​​​​​​​​​​​”Blow-Up”, the movie loosely based of the English photographer Harry Benson I believe. I learned very quickly that as a lowly assistant, I was not the one to roll around with models. But as the owner of a set of keys to the studio it had it’s benefits. I have always found a draw to the human face, female faces in particular. Throw in an old building with a window I will find a model. So my knowledge of the basics of photography and the darkroom got me hired.

High school friend, black hair very cool girl and a beauty.Black haired beauty with a piece of her hair in her mouth.

Along with my basic knowledge, and knowing how to answer a phone got me an introduction to the duties of an assistant. Clean the toilet each morning then sweep the place, and making coffee. As for shooting that was accomplished with the aid of hot lights, so I needed to know how to change a HOT light bulb. This was seat of your pants photography, most was daylight setups. I learned how to develop film as well as prints. Many long hours spent over rolls of 35mm film both Back and White and of Transparencies. One summer he hired another guy to work there as well, that summer we cleaned the drum drier canvas belt. That included putting the damn thing back together with the weight roller to provide tension.

Latnia young womam, sitting in window, black hair, head and shoulders, Black and White images.

We both got press passes that allowed us onto the grounds to Hemisfair, the state’s attempt at a worlds fair. The extra bonus was that having a press pass allowed us into the Press Club just for journalist. They allowed all journalist to drink, though the state did not. Same thing for the main Press Club just for journalist and their guess’s. But the real draw of the press pass was access to places without paying the admission to. We used those passes for all they were worth. We practically lived at Hemifair that summer.

Black and white image, silhouette of a woman, abandon house, overgrown weeds and sky.

But all things come to an end, I soon left the photographer I worked with, went on to the local newspaper.

Canadian Sojourn Part 9

Head-shot, young singer, red haired, with freckles .

To continue doing something with determination or resolve despite difficulties or an unlikely chance of succeeding.”


I did mentioned that there were girls there? I should also let you know that these were sweet girls of the 60ish to the 70’s kind of girls. And their dad’s did everything required of a 60’s right up to the 70’s dad; add a dash of 50’s thrown in. But they were fine girls everyone of them, among them some really cool sister’s. Sixteen and seventeen I believe, high-school girls, and their little sister came in as any between thirteen to fifteen. I do not remember meeting them, suddenly they were a part of the general group of young I was apart of.

Looking thoughtful, sitting on stool, young woman, cigarete, neckless.

The older girl and really hit it off, we grew into best pals pretty quickly. She had a guy that she knew from the camp growing up. Eventually I met the parents, and of course was asked to stay for dinner. The mom was everybody’s mom, very warm and friendly, the dad was the more reserved, but he did have 3 young daughters to defend. Once his got to see you react to his wife and daughters he was pretty cool for a dad…, who did have daughters to defend. I found out they did have an older brother who was out traveling. Probably as a direct result of a disagreement with dad, so the mom was paying it forward; but we didn’t have the name for it then.

One afternoon when we all came trooping in to their camp, I got the feeling that I wasn’t being invited to dinner. One too many mooched meal, I came back to my cold little camp. About 5 minutes later the girls came up to get me. Mom had won that round! That’s went I learned about the brother and being out and alone. I do have to mention, I did my part of the dance…, I chopped and fetch wood, fetched water, anything I could help with. In particular attention to dad in all of this dance. I had to let it known that I was make life easier for him and just not brown-noshing him. And I treated the women in his life with the respect too. Vising required a level of finesse so instead bringing a bottle of wine, I offered to do a task. Sometimes that even helping with water duties with all the daughters by themselves.

Black and White image, 1970"s view wine bottle and cork, old streetcar in back.

One afternoon the older girl seem real distracted so naturally I asked what was going on in her life. Turns out that the guy she was dating at the camp had forced himself on her that afternoon. Got her alone, had taken advantage of her culottes and had forced his way on her. I was shocked at the idea, forced! So we took a long time discussing why not tell her dad. She did not want tell as her dad might get hurt in any fight he got into with this rapist. Of course she was afraid to get pregnant, what were the possibilityBjlack and White imgae, 1970's transparent dress, dark haired model, nurse.

So the relationship grew with them, that brother relationship grew with them as a family. So when the time came for dad and his older girls to get registered for classes the girls and I made a plan. We decided that I would come down to Boston to see where they lived. So down I drove I had that V-W bus so the gas wasn’t bad, so I picked them up at a ball game their dad was coaching. His eyes really did a number on me as he said hello at the ball game. The girls had timed that really well, he was distracted by the game. By the time he had for the game to be over, he had time to figure out how to approach this fly in his ointment. Naturally the girls and I stayed up all night talking. I just had laid my head down when the dad woke me, saying that he wanted to give me coffee before I got lost. I’m not quite clear on what words were used, but I remember the point, it wouldn’t be fair to the girls my staying alone with the girls. Ever resourceful the girls had already made arrangements for me to stay with a girlfriend of theirs to get some sleep.

 

 

Canadian Sojourn Part 8

Nude female model, white shirts, old wooden fence, color image, county side.

To continue doing something with determination or resolve despite difficulties or an unlikely chance of succeeding.”


I really liked the people I met at the park, the kids, the families, and the older people who came too, but in a more sedate way. It was a good mix for a lonely traveler; people accepted me with few, if any questions asked. So I settled in, made friends if only for the short term. I met the whole families though their kids, often I was invited to dinner as well. One father invited me on a hike with this family, up Cadillac Mountain.

 

It was a nice climb though it took hours to hike. Little did I know the only reason I was invited was because the dad want me there if anything when wrong with him. I only found out on the way back down the mountain. The family staid at the mountain top while dad and I made the hike back down. The hike was nice both ways, dad opened up to me while I enjoyed the weather and the views. Wildflowers I’d never seen before, plus the mountain view were breathtaking. I was good and tired from the hike so I stayed in camp while he went back in car to get them.

 

 

Black and white image, red haired female model nude with a white shirt

It was a nice climb though it took hours to hike. Little did I know the only reason I was invited was because the dad want me there if anything when wrong with him. I only found out on the way back down the mountain. The family staid at the mountain top while dad and I made the hike back down. The hike was nice both ways, dad opened up to me while I enjoyed the weather and the views. Wildflowers I’d never seen before, plus the mountain view were breathtaking. I was good and tired from the hike so I stayed in camp while he went back in car to get them.

Black and white image, red haired female model transparent dress, front of an milk barn.

That was the lovely thing about the park, there were a whole range of people to meet and of course girls. By the right of owning a V-W bus, I became the natural go to guy for ride to the beach, or the mountain streams. One day I had a bus load of kids I was ferrying to the mountain so we could swim in stream of ice fed runoff; the sun never felt so good as after. Another day I was tasked with taking some guy to buy beer for that night’s party. As the only person to have a driver license that said I was 21 they told me that the beer would be free. The only fly in the ointment was that I had to carry each case out to the trunk by the owner of the store. That night at the party I heard a noise under me. I looked down and there was a girl crawling on the ground pickup beer caps; let me guess your a Virgo I said, yes she beamed.

Black and white image, red haired female model, old milk shed, spider top, headshot.
Michael Vasquez Art ©

*I recently learned that this model took her own life, she was in her mid-thirty, when she died. When I met her I felt that she was one of those people who would become very successful in her adult life. In the short life that she had she had made her mark on the world and brought great joy to those her knew her. Ruby I truly hope you have found peace at last.

Canadian Sojourn Part 3

To continue doing something with determination or resolve despite difficulties or an unlikely chance of succeeding.”


Next morning I woke to clear sky so I made a leisurely breakfast coffee. Because I was safe from the cops, I took my time getting started, had coffee and set my little home ship shape before I left the camp. I had read John Steinbeck’s “Travels with Charley” a couple of times to make sure I had the rule of the road down pat. In my own travels I mean to follow I-10 into Jacksonville, then highway A1A north, back then in 1969 it wasn’t much a road, but it followed the ocean right up where I mean to go as my jumping off point.

B & W image, late 1960's, high school friend, abandon night club, golf course, female model, white pants suit.

So off I drove into the future, I took a left at the junction and found the blue line roads of fame. Though small towns America I drove with a vengeance, stopping only for fuel for both the van and me. By sunset I started looking for a spot where I could grab some rest for the night. Virginia Beach has some picturesque spots on the beach, so I was hoping to hear the ocean all night. But before I could settle in a cop pull in and informed me that sleeping there would get me arrested. So off I drove in search of a place for the night and fuel for the van, seeing is how I had good luck in New Orleans. Luck held and the owner said that I could park the van for the night just off his pumps.

After I wonder at my luck with gas station owners, it wasn’t until later I found out from a mother that I reminded her of her son who was off traveling. She had the idea by helping me just maybe her son would find help from good strangers as well…, pay it forward it became to be called. I would later find in National Parks all sorts of kind people willing to help me out in all my endeavors. I became the living embodiment of the lost sons everywhere, of course I did not tell a soul of my real intentions.

Black and white image, late 1960's, female model in white dress.s

Even though the real south where I expected trouble, I found kind people. That may have been because I was not staying, just passing through. The late 60’s was a horrible time in America, sort of like the time we are going through now. In Alabama I found, you guess it, a kind gas station owner who warned me off filling my water tank that the water he offered had a bad sulfur content before I filled my tank. In Georgia and again in Florida I saw my first chain gangs with only black inmates. I knew then that I didn’t want to spend time in there, luckily I was passing through and made no contact with the local police. As I was on a mission I had places to be and people to see, I could not tarry.

My next stop was in Trenton, New Jersey, with some friends of my mother who own a small motor court where I would rest for a few days.

Black and White image, late 1960's, female model, swims suit, on a log. 

Canadian Sojourn

Old San Antino                      Old San Antonio. old building, Late 68, girl black hair, period dress, staircase.
Late 60’s high school girl in a staircase in old building.

                                                                      “To continue doing something with determination or resolve despite difficulties or an unlikely chance of succeeding.”


I want to address my timeline here before I get to the assisting  proper. I’m starting just after high school because that when my assistanting story begins. I was also a shooter for my local newspaper for about a year after being an apprentice for a local shooter. When I was twenty my world change for me, some would say for the better, some the worst. My life has been one of being addicted to the news. I started as a very young man and of course as the war in Vietnam was played on most television sets in American, I became an avid watcher. I watched as Walter Cronkite slowly turned against the war, and was willing to say so. I listened to friend’s who I knew who had a firsthand knowledge, told the truth about the war that no one on television seemed to acknowledge. I knew that I could not in good conscience would not and could not participate. My country was willing to send me to kill…, send me a half the world away as long as l killed people who had never done wrong to me.

Black haired beauty with a piece of her hair in her mouth.
High school friend, black hair very cool girl and a beauty.

So it was clear to me that I needed an excuse to cover my fleeing to Canada to save myself. The popular sentiment with people in support of the war was, “America, love it or leave it”. So my decision was made, I would flee to the wilds of a country I did not know, but who supported my stance on the war. My cover became that I was taking a trip to see the country, and by happenstance I was going to the Newport Folk Festival. One last chance to see some of the country before I went off to war. I was going to go by bike, a 10 gear bicycle on a trip of over 1000 miles. My first hurtle, one of many, was to convince my mother!

Some 50 years later I can still see the events of that day clearly. I met her in the cafeteria in the basement of her office. She telling all the reasons that I wasn’t going, she had a list full of reasonable reasons I was not to go. I said not a word, safe in my resolve that come hell or high water I had no choice, but to save myself and my conscience. I could see in her eyes that she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she knew I was leaving. So while she plotted ways to stop me I begin to train for the trip.

Late 60's black haired beauty on a golf bridge over creek.
High school friend, black hair in late 60’s dress.

I rode everywhere that bike would take me, I learned to take racers turns leaning far into my turns. My friend and another Michael trained with me, we rode day and night. My friend was fond of taking risks, riding down a hilly twisty street at full speed trusting fate that there was no car on the road. I made the mistake of showing him the bike of my dreams that I could not afford. He bought the damn thing because he could. Then one night ride he got a cramp in his neck that made him drive right into a curb and wrecking the front tire…, much to my delight. He also decided not to come on the trip with me for reasons I am unsure of. Unfazed I kept to my training riding far and wide.

As the day for my departure approached my mother offed to get a van for me. A VW micro-bus with poke a dots curtains like a wonder bread truck. It had a refrigerator/water tank, a small closet, and a pull out bed; a home on wheels for my trip, and a safe haven for her so she wouldn’t worry so much. Now if she had been less supportive I would have realize the limitation I faced. I hadn’t face really long distances before, I was just getting to those trials.

My preparations included buy a packing trunk, all my so call winter gear when in there. I stored everything I could possible need including all my darkroom gear. If anyone had bothered to check there was no way I was packed for just a summer trip.

Fired!

Black and White, Blond girl, an old speak-easy.
In my learning years I use the girls from my high school. Not necessarily prettiest, but the coolest.

Now I have to discuss a topic that many people find hard to comprehend, the idea of firing someone who should be in charge. I have always worked with people for as long as it pleased me. If someone disappointed me in some way, the first time I worked with them, it was the last time I worked with them. Top of my list is a guy I worked with who happened to work for the National Enquirer. I have strict rules for my working with entities. I was hired under false pretenses, he never told me who he was working with. We were already far from our home base when he told me, so I had to resort to my professionalism finish the job.

We were on a back-road when he told me to stop the car, I checked the mirror to see who was behind us before I hit the brakes. Again he yelled to stop, I put on my signal and pulled to the side of the road. Again I wasn’t fast enough for him and he yelled to stop the fucking car! Listen I told him it’s not my gear in the back of this car, I don’t give a shit if we are hit, but I figure you might. A line of three cars zoomed past us as I shifted in to reverse. Backup he growled, I want to see something. The shoot went downhill from that point on, and ended with not getting paid on time.

I mentioned it to a photographer I was working with in the context of not working with people I had problems with. He looked shocked by the idea, he said to me YOU fire people? Yeah I said I do…, I only work with people that I am compatible with. I told him that I had to fire his main competitor just that week for trying to get me to work with another assistants who I knew was racist. I had the perfect backup who I was training and worked with several times before, I knew the guy would do a fine job for him.

Black and White image, old house overgrown with vegetation, shot in the late 60's.
As a photographer I found it easy to get girls to pose for me. I learned from them how to speak to them which was the hardest part.

In my line of work I find it was to my benefit to have people who could fill in for me and I for them when the need arose. I trained many fine women and men on how to get were I was in the business. I never scrimped on the knowledge I taught them because that would work against me in the long run. I followed a few rules on the hiring of a backup, first and foremost was did the photographer work with them before. Next was how comparable was the assistant with the job to be done. And lastly but not the least of things how hard was the photographer to work with, did he have any problems I knew of that would make for a bad fit.

As I have said it was a good situation for me to run my business with the least of problems. Those who failed in some way to work in my guidelines I let go. To me life was too short to fill it with people who didn’t work with me, or tried to break the rules. Those that know me know I adhere to as few rules as possible in my life. Work was a horse of a different color indeed.

Danish Summer: Girl ll

Danish Model, Black & White image, three quarters limage with a cute wrap around her bust, wearing jean.

This girl was harsh, harsh, and harsh in her look, patterned herself off the Germanic look. In reality she was a sweet girl hopping to make it in the big city. I tried my best to get her to relax her look, this was the best I could manage. The owner of the studio, Jim said it was the best look he had seen in her book, which was quite a complement coming from him, he had a great eye.

Color image of Danish model, in a Black PJ top, stern look

She had come over just in time for the madhouse of getting Jim ready for a shoot of his own. I sat her down in the alcove to the studio with a glass of champagne so she could relax while I made sure he had everything he would need. When I could finally turn my attention to her, I called her into the change room for makeup and to change. Then we set about the business we were there for, I made her change clothes fairly often to work off any nerves. And I tried to work on her look.

Danish model, color image three quarters, red top and jeans..

I also got her topless even though she said I don’t have anything to show, and I left it at that. I never force a model to try something she is not comfortable with. Their discomfort shows up in the eyes first, just like too much to drink. My job is to read how the model feels, and to react accordingly. An unhappy model doesn’t look good, there is something off about the photos. Now on the other hand a playful model will look so good in the photos, but when she has to explain to an unhappy significant other…, well things can change.

Danish model, color image, topless with jean shorts.

Anyway the model was very happy with the way she came across in my photos. And there was no significant other in the City to worry about. The only problem with that the afternoon that she came to look over her work Jim had locked his keys in the office. I didn’t get the chance to have a relaxing time with her, maybe buy her dinner, I had to make a mad dash to Grand Central to give Jim his keys back so he could go home.

A second shoot was in order, but in a boom or bust economy we never had the chance. We had a good time working that night, both of us got something out of out shoot as it should be.

Rest with Peace at Last

Young red haired model, white top, against a old wooden barn.

It was with great sadness and shock I learned of the passing of one of my model. I will always remember her as a very talented, and bright person, I thought she had a great future. When I met her I really had to sell myself as a photographer for her. Over coffee I showed her my book, told her in general term what I wanted to shoot with her. I was amazed what a difficult sell she was, though I knew she was worth any trouble.

We agreed to shoot at a friend’s farm, the old milk barn. On the drive over I told her that I didn’t know if anyone would be there visiting. I told her that we might just end up having dinner that I cooked because I did not want to put on a show for anybody’s benefit. We took our time to warm up, for her to be comfortable with what I was shooting. Went the sun was the right position for the light that I wanted we started at the barn. I got her in the transparent dress that I had just bought for this shoot. At one point I had moved in for a tight shot, asked her to lean back against the barn. She just let herself drop back against those rough boards. Without thinking I reached to grab her, she was so tall I grabbed her lower back and buttocks. She shot me a dirty look for having touched her without asking, I told her quickly “it’s the dress…, I’m saving the dress! We both started laughing over that, and all was forgiven.

 

Black and white image, wooden fence , young model, leather belt, boots, wooden fence, other worldly, looking into camera.

 

Then over a vegetarian dinner I had made just for her we met the boy’s that lived there. They were on their best behavior, and drunk on moonshine. It was so funny to watching them both so impaired, yet so formal with her. But Taz the dog just wanted a taste of what I was serving.

About a month later we had a second shoot out there in the family graveyard with the lovely old wooden fence. The setting really appealed to her, we worked really hard to get the shots I wanted. We worked with a man’s shirt for the most part, I got her down to boots and a belt at one point. Dressed or not she carried herself very well, and with a fluid motion. Not shy in the least she carried herself with a grace and pose that belied her few years.

We had a falling out over some advice I gave her, she told me that she already had a father. I figured that after she had put on a few more years we’d manage to become friend’s again. But she never communicated with me again, over time I tried less and less. Then last weekend I was just curious to see what she was up to now. I expected great things from her in business and beyond. It was great sorrow I learned that she had taken her own life, then it all made a kind of sense. While very open about parts of her life she was very guarded about other parts. Those parts that caused her hurt and pain that I couldn’t comprehend.

Big City Model’s

 

My shooting life in Manhattan was split between commercial work, and shooting my own personal work. I love working with women models, my fondest day at the studio was have “go see” days. I would call the agency’s and ask for them to sent over there models to have a look at their books. Then all the up and coming models would show up our door. The photographer I work with had the pull and the studio to get them there. I’d lead these young kids back to were the interviews happened. We’d talk and tease with them, and have a great time of it.

I was able to get some of the women to pose with me too. Nudity wasn’t a big deal back then, after all this was New York, the big city. The willingness to get nude was sort of a prerequisite to shoot if asked. Many of these models had a willingness to get nude as long as they were treated with respect, and their personal bounds were met, not so much different than today. I for one did my part in meeting these bounds, I treated them with dignity, and respect…, I had wine and treats to eat.

So one evening I was working with a really excellent model, young and lithe. We shot some clothes stuff firsts, she was very fit and had movement to her body…, naturally I asked to show her figure off. She had brought a wonderful necklaces that served her body well. I remember her saying that she had decided no more nudes, and here she was nude. At the time I didn’t give it much thought, just showed her the Polaroids I had shot, told her how marvelous she looked. Quite like an Amazonian warrior I said about the necklace one.

Later after the film was processed and the contacts made I invited her over to see our work. I was so proud of the shots, and how she came across. She refused, said again how she had promised herself that no more nudes. No matter how I begged and pleaded she would not come over, and just see the work.

So these works are not for sale, they are meant to show what we got, I am very proud of this work. I have some hope, however vain it maybe, that she will see these finally. How she come across with dignity, and respect that I could put into these shots. To me her beauty, the way she carry herself with dignity make these images what they are.