Many years ago, I photographed a well-known author/psychiatrist. As he was finishing up a phone conversation, I set up my lights and moved a trash can from view. When he put down the receiver, he roared, “Who gave you permission to touch my things?” I stopped and stood frozen, uncertain if he was asking a rhetorical or actual question. Since I typically default to the low road in such circumstances, I offered an apology and went on to add, “I am sorry if this is a bad time for me to be here. I am well aware that when someone is making a photograph, they are forcing you to be vulnerable and if that’s not your choice, it can make you feel very uncomfortable.”
His shoulders softened and he responded — in total seriousness — “I thought I was the psychiatrist here.” I laughed and thankfully, we actually had a good session. I left with a signed copy of his most recent book, a warm handshake, and a grateful heart; it doesn’t always end so well.
During the past two weeks, I’ve been making thousands of images of folks who are richer and more powerful (in worldly metrics) than me. They drive Mercedes Benz, BMWs, and Range Rovers. They command respect and attention when they walk into a social setting. Yet none of their power, prestige, or wealth are able to subdue the self hatred which rises to the surface when I point my lens in their direction.
“Can you Photoshop my eyes to make them larger?”
“Will you trim some weight off my neck and upper arms?”
“Can you take ten years off my face?”
“I always look horrible in photographs.”
These are actual questions/statement that these power brokers have confessed. In each situation, I feel a combination of sadness and anger. I want to ask, “Who told you that you look terrible? Who told you your eyes are not beautiful?” Of course, I am asking a rhetorical question because I know the answer. I have been getting feistier as I age and on one occasion this week said, “I’m not sure who told you that you don’t photograph well but whoever it was lied.”
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This is a powerful little blog. I am guilty of feeling this way….vulnerable, exposed and ugly in photographs and in the mirror. And your question is highly reminiscent of God’s question to Adam and Eve in the garden……”who told you you were naked?”.
Thanks for reading Natalie. And yes, my question was referring back to God’s question to Adam and Eve. Getting this is hard work isn’t it?