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.

 

 

Near color of a model in black tights, sitting on a cube,

 

Another young woman I shot with is this young lady, she did swimsuit modeling. She was a little older than the other girls, she knew the score. We had a lovely time shooting, and some days she would bring her own makeup person. We were shooting some lingerie, I started laughing, she asked me what so funny…, I replied that she was the only woman I knew who had stayed in their lingerie for that long! Her makeup artist even smiled as he was touching up her breast to minimize the tan lines. Her little breast was shining like a beacon in my light.

She had a problem with where she worked that she wanted help with. So I met her for lunch, a 50 dollar lunch I might add, I had to use the last of my traveler check to cover that lunch. The swimsuit owner and maker told her that he would use her more if she got breasts implant. I felt that she might be hurting herself if she got them because back then a report had come out on the safety of implants. Beside I said her body was balanced as it were, I told her that nothing was missing from her body.

It’s hard to remember, but we shot together for maybe about 3 times before she disappeared. The most productive shoot was the last one did, she really put herself into those shots. I even got permission from the owner of the studio to use his background. He had this beautiful background made that was to be his centerpiece. He did a lot of his creative work on that background, I loved the look of it. Photographers are a creative breed of the most anal of people, they guard their secrets well. Well this was the height of my lighting skills. You have to practice to keep your skills up to snuff, in New York City I practice my skills regularly. When I moved back home though that skills got me a lot of jobs working with local photographers who wanted to up grade there own skills. But with any skill you have to keep working with it, use it or lose it as the saying goes.

Female model, nude, tasteful, sitting on a mulin fabric against a cloud patteren backdrop.

 

I lost the practice, and my touch from disuse after my stroke.

 

Mamma Lena

Mamma Lena with the background matts that I do.  A low-res scan, have to be seen at full resolution to be appreciated.  The matts I started playing around with the idea a few months ago, like the look and feel of the matts.  I think it adds a touch of class to the image, so far no one else has them, I hope that is a good deal.  About the image, she is a model of mine I first shot many years ago, now she is carrying her first child.  So very nice to work with an old friend, the natural rhythm of shooting comes back.

Film Order

 

 

What a wonderful feeling after so long a wait, to be able to buy film. Not that the things holding me back have eased, not so much, but I have enough to work on. One of my first model’s to begin working with me on what has developed into the new series. I’ve know this woman for thirteen (13) years now, (seen on FaceBook) the boyfriends come and go. Never ever thought the both of us would still be involved with each other lives this long. Like so much of my art it has evolved over time, organic, the friendship has deepened. I’ve invited the model to my shows, or tell them when a magazine has picked our work to publish. I love educating new model to the world of art, how our work fits into the show.

So too has my relationship with my other models has grown over time, the nature of our work, what to submit to magazines, websites that handle art. Those models who wish to be involved are welcome, those that do not want to be bother, I let them be. With this new series I have someone who I work with, not everyone is so open to the type of images I want to make. I keep my options open, always welcome back models who have worked with me in the past. I welcome new models, they work with what they are comfortable with, I never require models to pose in ways they are not fully behind. Trust is key to my work, something that can only be built by getting to know each other, how we think. It’s the only way I work.

I find myself in a wonderful position, two (2) models, two different ways to pose. Each with a rhythm of their own, different set of values: its exciting. So return to the subject of film I need to buy, how my choice of film, model…, each bringing their personality, moves, and desires. Then I get to the real artsy stuff, expired film, those unpredictable colour shifts. Maybe a cross-processed roll of slow film for the movement, mystery, the flying by the seat of the pants feeling. The wait for real film to return from the lab. Part and parcel of the magic of film, exposing it for results hoped for, not for the faint of heart, or of imagination.

A return to the old days, the old ways, waiting to see if the magic has stuck, or a near miss. I love the suspense, the anticipation. I’ve spent decades work with these films, I know how they work, how they are supposed to work, then with the broken rules what you should expect. Now long out of date, the unknown…, what will I get, how will my model react if nothing shows up, least not model portfolio wise. That is the magic, the curse of my art, the great unknown is the way I work, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Checked the film vault, an old Tupper-ware container I have kept for many years now. Oh want delights! Film I had purchased in my N.Y. days, slower ISO that’s why it survived so long. All color film, all way out of date, oh the colour-shifts.

I was talking with a friend the other morning over breakfast, I told her how much I enjoys treading the needle. I want to produce a new piece from the current series, that is FaceBook pure. I do not support censorship, I will not show my work with a black bar, defused area because some white male is uncomfortable with the human body. So jerking a few chains does not bother me, I push boundary.

New Series

I moved into the new apartment towards the end of summer 2005. I finally had an apartment big enough to have a small studio, in addition being old enough so I had some interesting features to work in. I set about making my home/studio easier to work in, sheers on the windows. I kept the living-room/studio free from clutter, like any comfortable chairs to sit in. But I had my space to grow older, to pursue my art, and I finally had my office. Life looked very good for me, I was pleased with the plans I had, looked forward to my first shoot over the winter holidays.

That October I had the stroke that laid me low. The deal I made with my self-destructive side, take your best shot at taking me. If…, if I survive, then get the hell out of my way. Little did I count on having to try to reverse the effects of stroke. All strokes are particular to the patient, mine was a blockage in the left side of my brain. Right side of my body, flaccid, absolute paralysis. Confined to a wheelchair, only left side of my body could move. Only one side of my brain was functional, I was in deep shit.

So the deal with the devil was made, I kept to the bargain, doctors, nurses were telling all my visitors not to get too excited about any progress they saw. I on the other hand, not knowing what they thought they knew, I went ahead to try and reestablish the me I knew. Took the better part of twelve (12) years, fighting for every return to body, and mind. Now the harm to my body has healed as best it can, my two sides are now out of balance. My mind…, my mind too has healed as best it can, I count on the plasticity to seek out those pathways back to me. My brain is still injured deeply, that’s where the damage still haunts.

So the new series came as a blessing, both for mind and creativity. I have worked hard at getting the creativity back in as good a shape as possible. Enter model, muse, friend, to save me, to give me hope. It demand a model who knows me, trust me, believe in my vision…, and believes in me as a man. This my first attempt at a series of found objects in nature, and very private spaces on the female body. The working title “Natural Curves”, a juxtaposition of bark, seeds, pods…, wherever I can find in nature with there wonderful curves, set next to the bodies curves. The whiteness of her body, the darkness in the object. The play of light, darkness, enticing curves of the most intimate nature.

So with this as my background, I began setting up my home studio. It was the easiest setup I ever done, called on all my years working with the professionals. I had the depth of my living room to set the muslin background complete with a sort of drop shadow, taken from endless product shoots. I fashioned a comfortable table for my model to try different poses for the areas I wanted to use. Those areas had been determined by a test we had as to feasibility. This setup for the main event, the actual shoot where she has to hold the pose, and the object in place. We shot film as well, for the lighting, and background.

I’ve had to curb my model from posting these test shots. Next comes the hard work of the actual shoot which will be so much better, but for a test these look so good . I have to curb my own enthusiasm, more as we progress.

Michael Retro

Welcome to a retro look at my work, you are invited to stop, look around and see what you like. Polite comments are welcome, but remember your manners please. A few words about how I work, I use traditional film, where possible available light. I come from a photo-journalist background so my work is only retouched the way I would process in the darkroom; darken here, hold back the light there, spot the prints. With real film what is on the negative is what you get, so NO special effects are being used in the manipulation of my negatives or prints. In the end my product is really just a matter of time and light.

This, more personal side of my work as well as some of the model’s who have worked with me. I have been shooting intimate photographs of women for what feels like all my life. I am very motivated by the sensuality of the body and mind. I truly value each of the model’s I’ve had the good fortune to share a collaboration to produce the work that you see. These young women trust me to do right by them, and I am very protective of their rights. My model’s each get a percentage of the sale price for each and every piece of art sold of our work. Each of my model’s privacy is respected, anonymity or the use of a stage name is entirely at the model’s discretion.

Good model’s work hard, sometimes under trying situations , nekked to boot. It’s an investment of time, both hers and mine, and that indescribable chemistry that may coax the magic to strike. One can never tell, sometimes the most promising of model’s: no spark. The fact that they are unclothed should matter as an afterthought and not the primary focus. A final word on the term “my girls”, its not meant in a paternalist fashion nor does it imply ownership any sort. A very fragile and very special bond is formed when a man and a woman work together so intimate a manner, and that trust should never be violated.

So once again welcome, get to know my girls. What it is that makes them tick, to carve out a space for them to be them. I invite you into their lives and minds at a particular time and place.

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