Archive for the ‘Jobs’ Category
I shot this years ago, and have written about it, a bit. It was part of a huge Sports Illustrated project about defensive magicians on the baseball diamond. And of course, at that time, if you talked defense, you talked about Ozzie. The Wizard of Oz! The shortstop who looked like he played the position from at least five different starting places at once.
My answer was to use mirrors, and simply reflect him around the infield. Coming up with this notion was certainly easier than shooting it.
So much so, that the estimable Syl Arena, a speed light magician himself, showed the picture to his class (I believe it’s a high school class) and none of them believed it did not involve Photoshop. He reassured them it was a straight up film shot, but alas, he sent me an email saying “they remained skeptics.”
The man in the middle above is Howard Simmons, who after his assisting stint went on to a wonderfully successful career as a staffer at the NY Daily News. Perched atop the Gitzo tripod is a Mamiya RZ Pro II medium format film camera, a great system I let go of a long time ago. The key to the whole deal was that high flying Speedotron head dangling off of a movie style boom arrangement. I had to get that light above the sight line of my frame, hence the thirty or so feet of speed rail angled up into the heavens. It’s a quad head, if you notice the multiple power packs plugged into it. It produced a slow moving wallop of photons. But, it was cool. Flash duration wasn’t the issue here. Ozzie, atypically, was just standing there.
I shot it several ways, with Ozzie physically in the picture, and with just his reflection. I was looking to the east, dealing with darkness in the background, as the sun dropped like a stone behind me. That flying backlight, which defined the whole set and rimmed out Ozzie’s form for his reflection to stand out clearly in the blackness, became crucial. (Remember, the mirrors are angled in such a way as they are facing into complete darkness, so my subject, the gentlemanly Wizard of the Infield, had to literally pop with contrast.)
For the same reason, the Norman 200B units, gelled warm, sitting behind each mirror, needed to pop pretty hard, to separate those glassy slivers of silver from the encroaching darkness.
All of the above produced, well, a limited return at the magazine.
The picture’s gotta go somewhere, even it means cropping out the largest of the meticulously crafted Ozzie reflections. It’s cool. Hey, it ain’t my magazine, and my favorite shot was the one up top, that had nothing but reflections, and that’s never been published.
It was a lot of effort. We crisscrossed Florida in a crew van, with an eighteen wheeler of a movie grip truck tailing along. Lit up whole ballparks for simulated action pix. What a privilege to work this way! We had a 650 amp genny onboard the truck, so I didn’t even have to snag electricity from the spring training stadiums.
All of this had to be set up. There’s a guy off to camera right, throwing a baseball up near the wall, and Eric Davis gamely leaps for it. When you punch the shutter on this type of pic, and you know you have it, done, etched in film forever, an isolated split second, electrified and petrified by the power of 30-40,000 watts seconds of light, well, dang, you’re at the ballpark, so give yourself an attaboy and have a coke and a dog.
Likewise when I got Keith Hernandez of the Mets to dig one out for me at first base.
The pix all ran as a feature, and chewed up quite a few pages in the baseball issue. Not something SI will ever do again, as this was quite a high ticket budget item, marshaling all these resources.
And there it is, on a light table, a bunch of moments from quite a while ago. More tk….
Actually, a shimmer and an idea. I don’t know why the folks at Nikon and the Photo Plus Expo administration listened to me when I came to them with Halloween ideas. For someone such as myself, raised up on comic books and the dark fantasies of Mordor, the notion of distressed trick or treaters, of small children poised on the verge of fantastical disaster and mayhem was completely normal. I was somewhat nonplussed then, when most people I tried to explain my ideas to would listen politely, tilt their head, look at me and say, “Sounds cool. You’re a sick bastard.” PPE, which is itself a fantastical land of mystery staged every year in the glassy cage on 11th Avenue known as the Javits Center, falls on Halloween weekend. Why not create some spooky, fun pics to advertise it? Doing these snaps immediately combined a lot of things I love. Being on location. Struggling my way through complex lighting scenarios. Being with a crew of talented people. Body painting people into other worldly wonders. And mostly, letting my imagination out for a healthy romp. In this scenario, I conjured a little girl, reading a scary story by flashlight, long after she should have gone to sleep. Her wall is a wonderfully innocent mural of leafy woodlands, filled with faeries and other mild mannered creatures of the forest. Except for one, who seems to be coming alive, literally out of the woodwork, a malevolent creature, one with mischief and more on her mind. She is freaking out the other faeries, who would warn the little girl….if only they could. The key to a job like this is preparation, and the assemblage of a bunch of amazing skill sets. The empty room had to first be illustrated with a vibrant, richly done mural. Dana Heffern, a terrific painter, worked in this room for eight days prior to the shot, creating the dreamy woods. Anastasia Durasova, a truly brilliant body painter, combined with hair stylist Jerome Cultrera to transform the lovely Tanya Sinkevica into the creature living in the wall. And of course, all these people would never know to all show up at once to do this were it not for the herculean efforts of the ever talented Lynn DelMastro, friend, colleague and extreme producer. I’m not sure of this, but Lynn at this point in her career might actively fear my imagination, as it is that fevered sense of what might be possible in a photo that has translated into many long nights of work for her. I halfway expect her at some point to just look at me and say, “Can’t you just shoot a goddam head shot?” But noooooo…….Joe’s gotta get an evil faery, and moonlight in the woods, and trees that eat little children! Of course, when her work is done, she is more than happy to hand off this hot potato of a location effort to me, and then, I have to figure it out. When I scouted this empty room, I noticed there was a shimmer on the wall, coming from high sunlight banking off the backyard pool, creating an upward cast, gleam through the window onto the wall. Hmmmm….how could I recreate that? I gave it a stab by firing three Profoto Acutes into a 6×6 Lastolite silver reflector, angled up from the backyard into the window. The prop stylist, Katherine Hammond, draped a sheer over the glass. I took my #D810 into incandescent white balance. Boom. We had moonlight, glinting of the waters. The D810 has incredible resolution, and is the perfect camera for this. But, all those millions of pixels combine to make a stern taskmaster of a sensor, one that shows every flaw, and every undone, incomplete part of your picture in stunning detail. Hence, the light had to be right. It ended up being a combination of five SB 910 speed lights, mixed in as accents with three 2400ws Acutes, one B4, and two B1’s. Each light had a job to do, in a specific area of the photo. Then they all had to mesh into something plausible. The process of doing this is slow and steady. Put up a light you think you need. See what it does. Modify or ratio it, up or down. Where are the dead spots? Fill those in, but with a governed, controlled light that doesn’t blow away the look and feel of the light you have already painstakingly created. I sometimes think about the physician’s creed when putting up a light into an already existing grid. “First, do no harm.” Then I think of the photographer’s prayer. “Please don’t let me f%#@* this up.” This is like building blocks. They are independent pieces, but they all rely on and react to each other. For the forest idea, the light was just as carefully controlled, except, it wasn’t a bedroom, it was a forest. The below is about 12,000ws of light, sprayed across a spooky forest, where two trick or treaters have unwittingly stumbled into. Mommy told you not to go into the woods! They say the trees in there come alive at night! More on the construction of the below on another blog. I talk about the creation of these pics, and do some live, small flash demo in the Nikon booth at PPE. My sked to be there is 11:45 on Thursday and Friday, and then 1:15 on Saturday. Many thanks to Mike Corrado and Mark Suban at the Nikon Ambassador program, and the folks at PPE, for listening to my wacked ideas! Happy Halloween! More tk… (Many thanks to Lynda Peckham in our studios for shooting lots of the BTS stills!)
Back in 1936, when Henry Luce bought LIFE magazine, and shaped it into America’s window on the world, one might have thought he had some sort of crystal ball. I mean, the magazine has had its share of ups and downs, once being shuttered for six years, then rebounding as a monthly from ’78 to 2000, then borne again for a brief period as a newspaper supplement. In between, it’s been special issues, yearly recaps, and now, quite successfully, a book publisher. I mean, the name fits. The estimable Mr. Luce was on to something. Ya just can’t kill it. Despite the gaps, and changes, various editors (with wildly disparate skills) and shifting business fortunes, it keeps putting out good stories, using ink on paper, and creating a real thing–a good book you can take home and put on the shelf. LIFE prevails. LIFE goes on.
I started shooting for LIFE in 1984, and became its last staff shooter in the mid 90’s. Photographically, it’s always been home for me. As a young shooter, meeting some of the truly preeminent, venerable members of its legendary staff–Carl Mydans, Gordon Parks, Alfred Eisentaedt, John Loengard, Gjon Mili–was formative and heart stopping, all at once. Sitting and listening to them–what they saw, what they shot–was like listening to the richest, most vibrant history book one could ever encounter. I learned so much. Not enough, but it was a start.
Over the last few years, the LIFE banner has been flown by Bob Sullivan, a truly wonderful editor and friend. He is about the closest thing to a Renaissance man I know. He has written books about sports, jazz, World War II, the Beatles, and the Popes. So, when he called and asked if I could go on the road for the new LIFE book, The Vietnam Wars, and catch up with folks whose lives were powerfully intersected by that turbulent time, I was onboard immediately. I shot the final chapter of the book, looking at representatives of those two Vietnams–the vets who fought, and the protesters who challenged the government.
I was able to work for a day with members of 1st Platoon, who fought and survived a deadly battle, called the Battle of Finger Lake. There is a powerful bond amongst these men still, and all of them, to this day, give enormous credit to Lt. Wilson, their platoon leader, for his steady leadership. As platoon member James Keene said, “He cared about his people. There’s no doubt his actions gave us a fighting chance to get out of there alive.”
It was a pleasure to go on the road with writer Daniel Levy, who wrote sympathetic, moving, and historically riveting accounts of both the vets and the protesters. It was LIFE, back in the day, that really pioneered the use of the powerful tandem of a writer and a photographer, working together, as the essential field team of the journalistic process. Put a good writer and a good photographer in the field, observing and reporting back, and you get a good story.
The above spreads were shot in LA, and then I bounced to Washington DC to shoot groups of vets at the Vietnam Memorial. Because of the horizontal nature of the wall, I experimented with B&W film, panorama style. The rest of the take was shot on a Nikon D800E, or a D4.
One of the best outcomes of doing the story was contacting Julian Bond, a very significant figure at that time, and a leader who has always raised his voice on behalf of non-violence, voting rights, and fairness in governing. I admired him greatly, for many years, and, via this story, I was able to photograph him. I was genuinely in awe of the man.
The section closed with a photo of a group of vets, all standing at attention, saluting. This is the tipping point for a photog on a job. I had done individual portraits of the various gentleman who had come down to the wall. See below.
But, I had one group shot left, and the guys were milling about, chatting, and pretty much needing to go. This is where you need an ally, who can assist you in pulling together an idea that, if you suggested it, as the outsider/photographer, might be reluctantly embraced. But, if you identify a go to guy amongst your subjects, they can help you.
Well, who better than a former Green Beret? I approached him and asked, “If I arranged all the guys, do you think you could get them to attention and salute?” His reply was emphatically affirmative:-)
This was all shot in four days in the field. My favorite pic remains the shadow on the wall. It was already bad light when I met Mr. Jordan. He mentioned his tradition was to come down to the wall at least once a year, and salute the name of his best friend, Gerald E. Niewenhous Jr. I saw the shadow and the name, and I shot it.
Very proud to have done this story, and in a small way, still be part of LIFE. More tk….
It’s quite a serious science story, actually. Roughly put, the AAAS (American Association for the Advancement of Science) just broke a story about how researchers are engineering mice to act as “avatars” for a particular patient, so they could examine cancer biology from a more personalized perspective.
The cover notion called for a shirtless male, with a shaved head (to intimate, potentially, someone involved in a chemotherapy protocol) holding a mouse, proffering it towards the camera. The intense light is on his hands, and thus on the mouse, who is the star of the show. Easy enough to do, but the control of light was obviously my paramount concern.
Naturally, the mouse had a rep, and a handler. (Thank God, not a masseuse and a publicity agent.) She was a bit of a diva, ignoring my requests and crapping all over our patient model’s hands. But she did look at the camera once or twice, and those looks provided just enough personality for the cover shot.
Due to a tight budget, it was seat of the pants stuff. I set up a studio in my driveway. There was only one law governing the entire day. My unbelievably patient wife, Annie, has been historically gracious about obstructions in the driveway, a garage filled with photo junk, and even, quite recently, two mostly naked, body painted models running around our kitchen, preparing for a forest shoot in the backyard. But there was no give on this one. No mouse in the house.
Bill and I stayed in touch via the miracle of the internet throughout the shoot, as I was sending him samples of the lighting, the cropping, etc. I have great confidence in him as a picture editor and have spoken of him before on this blog. He was a picture editor at the National Geographic for 34 years, until he was exited, as they say. This happens a great deal nowadays in the print journalism game. We worked together quite frequently, until, of course, we didn’t.
Happens. When I was a staff photog at LIFE, I was shown the door. At Time Warner, they call it a “reduction in force.” So, in the hallway vernacular, I got riffed. Same thing happened to Bill, though they probably call it something different at the Geographic. Given their particular bent for reporting on the natural world, maybe it’s referred to as “the circle of life.” I digress.
Anyway, what started as a stark silhouette became a semi-silhouette, with a shimmer of detail in the face and body. The background was lit with two Profoto B4 flashes, punching the white. When the call came in to open the silhouette a bit, I introduced two Profoto 1×6 strip lights on either side, both sporting egg crates to control the flow of light.
Up front, a 1×3 RFI strip light, fitted to a B1 unit, also outfitted with an egg crate, washed some detail up into the bottom of his hands and forearms. Overhead, a B1 governed by a ten degree spot grid became a snappy, intense main light. Then it was all up to Eric, our wonderfully serene human model, and our rodent friend, upon whom we bestowed the name, Trixie. She of course needed some guidance now and then.
The lighting broke down like this: Two B4’s with heads wrapped in black wrap to pop the background; two B4 big strips for edge light on the model; one B1 overhead in a 10 degree spot for the main; and one B1 underneath in a small strip for under lighting the hands. Every light has a specific job. The camera is a D810, and lens is 70-200mm f2.8 Nikkor. Exposure specs: 1/200th @ f22, ISO 160, lens set to 170mm. The set sorta, kinda looked like the sketch below. The solid black overhead nixed any potential for ambient light to influence the equation. We brought space heaters on the set so our talent was comfy. Whole shoot, including the lunch break, took 2 hours. Setup was the key. That took a while, getting all the pieces in place.
Studio in a driveway? Sure made it easy to put the gear away. More tk…..
The blog went missing last week. It was as if an industrial cleaning team had come through the studio, and somebody waved the business end of a high powered wet dry vac too near the calendar and it just sucked the week off the wall. There was that brief hissing noise as that particular collection of days put up a feeble resistance, and then, bloop! they were gone. Through the pipe and out into some sort of interior land fill in the barely conscious back of my brain known as what the hell just happened? Read the rest of this entry »