Monday, 4 March 2013

On Location 3: Appliqué

As part of my investigation into queering spaces and creating a queer intervention on your surroundings, I decided to go to a bar in Falmouth and apply some make up. This is envisaged to be a series of performances of putting on make up in public places and how people react to it.

Again, I can't tell you how scary this was - the knowledge that you were going to do it, but the people around you probably don't know what the hell is happening and probably don't even care. Still, the intrusive presence of the camera makes people shaky. As soon as you start clicking off photos, people think, "What is he taking pictures of?", or they move out of the frame, or object to their privacy being invaded.

So I set up the tripod, but then I bottled it. Fortunately, I was waiting for a friend and so I waited until she came and she said, "Not doing it is sometimes just as important as doing it" and I think this is an important discovery – asking ourselves why we feel this way. The reason I wanted to do it was because I knew the gesture would look strong on the image, but I was surprised that I still felt constrained by perceived societal gender roles.

Determined, I downed three pints of milk stout and – emboldened by beer – I asked my friend if she would press the button while I put on make up.

One of the biggest problems was that it took place indoor and I had to compensate for the indoor light. I wanted a reasonable depth of field so I had an aperture size of 8, but that meant the exposure was quite long – 1.6 seconds. The ISO setting also had to be boosted to 500... I really wanted as little grain as possible. Example shot:

62166_10152650769145287_101638041_n.jpg




I wore a suit to emphasis the male gender performative in order to openly subvert that with make up and provide a strong masculine/feminine contrast.

At one point, someone came up to me and asked what i was doing. I just honestly replied "It's a piece called Appliqué about putting on make up in public places." He then went on to tell me that once upon a time he studied photography and we laughed about Jeff Wall, before he moved on.

I took 74 photos but only two quite captured the effect of Appliqué. Because of the low light, it was only the strong red colour of the lipstick that managed to show through. And so I colourised this to emphasise the monochromatic flavour of the scene:

Appliqué
The long exposure time actually adds to the anonymity of the people in my surroundings because of the motion blur as they turn their heads, coupled with the removal of colour, the queer gesture of applying the lipstick actually becomes something that 'gives colour' to the scene. The figure in the foreground looks off into the distance, momentarily distracted. The lipstick runs off the lips... Is this an absent-minded gesture or is it a sign of mania? Are the people dressed in reds and blues in the background also tainted in a different colour? Are they tainted with queerness?

I feel like Appliqué could become a series... Perhaps if I just distilled it down to a man in a suit applying lipstick rather than 'full make up' it would be simple, but encapsulate a sense of queerness and this would be a quick, simple action that would be less intimidating.

Friday, 8 February 2013

On Location 2: Night Shooting, Urban Setting

I have been wanting to do an experiment for a long time now where I took the last stage of my performance 'The King of Beauty" in which he dresses up as Miss America and take it to a bus stop at night. This required quite a lot of confidence. The first time I tried to do this, I got all dressed up in make up, got the props and camera, drove to the bus stop, saw one person and then I bolted back home.

With more resolve – and at a later time slot – I decided to brave the outdoors.

Firstly, I remembered two things that Dave Mann told me: the flash will freeze the person in the photo and the long exposure time will capture any ambient light. What I hadn't accounted for was:

a) lens flare – even though I had a lens hood, the sheer amount of light in the urban setting from streetlights and cars inevitably causes flare
b) speckling – some of the pictures were destroyed by a speckling effect from the light, which appears on the image as missing pixels and is very hard to repair and
c) the inevitable motion blur – Some of the pictures were ruined by the long exposure time. It was cold and windy, I can imagine I was probably shivering, which has translated onto the image as motion blur

The camera also took a while to process the image after taking the shot, making continuous shooting fairly difficult.

However, it wasn't a total loss:

Miss America In Suburbia 1
As you can see there is a rubbish truck behind me which crawled very slowly along the street as I was taking pictures – I'm sure all the garbage truck men were having a good guffaw as they saw me. There were also two girls who popped out at one point to point and laugh. However, after those two experiences, I thought it couldn't possibly get any worse, so it made it easier to persist and push past that once the initial embarrassment had disappeared.

The most annoying thing about motion blur is that the clarity of the expression was lost:

Miss America In Suburbia 2
As you can see, where the flash 'froze' the model, there is motion blur, but the second one was much clearer. However, something is lost in the clarity. As an aside, an interesting effect I really loved was that at intermittent points, cars would zoom by and here you can see that as a trace of red light due to the long exposure. It really added a sense of life still going by as the photo was being taken.

The best shot of the night also used this ghosting effect:

Miss America In Suburbia 3
A few elements come together in this picture: a couple of cars came by at the same time so you have a brightness from the road. It also uses the 'double contrasting gesture' I experimented with in my very first shoot to provide some kind of juxtaposition, in addition to the ghosting effect I have been testing. I think this 'ghosting + double gesture' could be an interesting way to proceed with this.

I think I also need a more effective way of monitoring how the shots are going 'on-site' as taking photos of yourself, reviewing, running back can be an arduous process. This is easier with tethering in the studio as you can instantly see it on the computer, but I'm wondering if there is a camera with a larger display, for example, that would help me see how the shots are turning out 'as I go'.

On the whole, I'm glad I got this one out of my system. It didn't turn out quite how I wanted it to – I wanted to emphasise the hysteria and isolation of this Miss America figure. Several things could be done to help this. Taking someone out with me might be a massive confidence boost for a start. Also it might be worth considering doing this as a daytime shoot to see the contrast between night and day light, and whether it adds/detracts. Additionally I'm quite satisfied with the capturing of the ambient light as I think the exposure of the pictures was actually very good and well balanced in contrast with the flash.

Studio 2: Party surprise!

Armed with my new studio knowledge, I decided to go back into the studio and try something a bit more difficult. It is proposed that part of my project will have to do with capturing the 'instantaneous' or that flash of lightning that occurs within performance. To try and demonstrate this, I bought some party poppers to try and catch them mid-pop. There was a bit more pressure on this one. I had one bag, which equals 20 poppers, which in turn meant I only had 20 shots in order to get it right.

The only problem I had was setting up the lighting. Initially, I tried to put everything at the front of the studio, but the lights in the back kept getting in the way, so I just moved everything to the back and shot it there with two lights. I metered the lights and got them bang on f/8 for a 1/125 shutter speed. I noticed that the lights threw two shadows (one for each light source) and I quite liked this effect, though I noted that next time it might be interesting to use a diffuser to try and mute the shadowing effect.

Party pop 1
I also turned the house lights off, which gave a soft 'vignetting' style around the background, which I really liked as it framed the picture. This effect was less evident when the house lights were left on. I started to notice that there was almost a 'knowledge' as to whether a shot had worked or not. You can actually see when the flash goes off if the light has caught the party popper mid air or not and there was something satisfying about that sense of 'capturing' the exact moment.

Party pop 2
What I like about the above image is the 'anonymity' of the figure. I have begun to nitce that once you shoot, although it is strictly self-portraiture, you do start to disassociate yourself with the figure in the picture. In these shots, I feel very much as though I am 'demonstrating' an action, which is quite Brechtian in it's way. I discussed this with Sian, who also agreed and said that the gesture act as a 'poitner' or signifier to something else. This contrasts with the work of someone like Cindy Sherman who is definitely trying to embed the 'self' into the photo. This particular shoot actually draws more parallels with someone like Bruce Naumann. To that end I love the 'anonymity' of the above shot. It has all the 'surprise' of the party popper, but it could be coming from anywhere. Also, an interesting unintended side effect of the focus in the above shot is that the end of the streamers are in focus and it gets progressively out of focus.

Party pop 3
Also an unintended effect produced above is that the blue streamer touches the very edge of the frame, giving the composition a '3D' effect, or makes interesting use of depth of field in order to give relational perspective to the shot. This emphasises the viewer/performer relationship and gives them a sense of how and where they are in relation to the person in the image.

A thing to note in these pictures is the use of space: I am becoming increasingly aware of composition and 'face on' or centred shots can obliterate the whole perspective of the shot. It's better to place yourself off centre and use the rest of the space in an interesting way in order to give a sense of that space you're occupying.

I'm interested in the contrast between studio and location setting. Both have their own specific challenges: while on location seems like it might be more unpredictable, there is actually something more 'thrilling' about it and the fact that it is more gritty not only contributes to the spontaneity of the shoot, but also to the framing of the constructed reality of the shot.

In the studio, it's much safer but because of that a chasing of perfectionism can become evident. There is no reason not to get the perfect shot as you can shoot continuously until it happens. However, that shot is almost as spontaneous as any other – there's no telling when it will come. I can see studio shooting can easily be quite intensive.

I am looking forward to going back into the studio and developing the above shots. I really feel there is an interesting and impulsive feeling to these shots and – as ever – it's about re-shooting until you get the perfect picture.

Monday, 4 February 2013

Studio Flash Photography: An induction

As some of you may know from my post about my very first time in the studio, before I came to Falmouth I hadn't really investigated studio photography and so – to that end – my supervisor Sian Bonnell arranged an induction for me with the very awesome Dave Mann. He took me through the studio and I also got the chance to ask him some questions about my technical difficulties I've experienced so far. Thanks Dave – you helped me so much and I'm really itching to put everything into practice!

Firstly, we went through the studio basics, such as health and safety. But I'm going to attempt to repeat everything Dave told me to make sure I've understood how everything works. Firstly, a light actually has two lights: the modelling light and the flash bulb. The flash is actually what 'goes off' when the camera clicks. The lower the setting, the shorter the time the flash goes off - good for 'freezing' action. The higher it is, the longer the flash will be on.

If your camera is set to a shutter speed of higher that 1/200, you'll get black bars on the image so it's best to set your camera to 1/125 and then meter from there. However, it's actually the aperture that controls flash – shutter speed controls the ambient lighting.

The lights are set at increments that range from 0.5 to 6.0 and can be adjusted in 0.1 increments. 10 increments equals one f/stop on the camera, so if you meter and it comes up with f/11 and 6 bars, you would turn the light down by 1.6 to give a perfect reading of f/8 and 1/125 shutter speed.

Using one light, Dave very kindly modelled for me:

1 studio light to the photographer's right
As you can see, on the left hand side of the image is a very stark shadow, and also the camera captures a slight grey on the background. In order to compensate for this one black polyboard was put to the right of the light in order to stop throwing light to the back of the studio.

1 black polyboard
This gives a completely black background. However, it makes the left hand more stark. To that end, a white polyboard can be used to reflect the light on the left hand side.

1 black polyboard, 1 white polyboard
As you can see, the shadow is slightly more graduated, providing more definition. My first question to Dave was how do you get a white background. Dave suggested metering the background to ensure it's the same as your foreground lights and lighting the background with the same flash. This means the highlights in the wall are also detected by camera:

But you can also turn the flash up one full stop (e.g 10 increments) higher than the flash light in front. Dave says this is good for bleaching and can bleach out blemishes such as crinkles in paper, or foot marks:


You can also just whack the lights up, but this comes out so overbleached you lose the lines/edges of the picture:

 
Though not technically 'wrong' this lighting choice is obviously made by the photographer.

I also asked Dave about night photography, and he set up a practical example in the studio.

 
In this picture, the flash freezes the model in the foreground and completely obliterates the background, due to faster shutter speed. This is a good example of how shutter speed controls ambient lighting.


And in this picture, even though we have motion blur in the background from a longer exposure and hand-holding, the flash freezes the model in the foreground. In this way, motion blur can create an interesting artistic effect.

However, even with longer exposure times on a tripod, this 'flashing' then captures ambient light in the background without over-exposing the subject in the foreground.

All I can do now is employ what I learned in the studio, so wish me luck for the next time I go in!

Sunday, 27 January 2013

What the Camera Sees (And Shouldn't See)

So far my investigations have focused on things that have been aimed directly at the camera, or that the figure in the photo has a knowledge of the camera that is being posed at them. I decided to stage an investigation that was much more private and perhaps more sinister. In this setting, the camera becomes a voyeur. Or, perhaps voyeur is too passive a word as the camera becomes more like something that exposes – quite literally – the subject.

In fact, 'exposure' becomes quite an interesting term if we take it both in a literal and photographic term. To expose something in photography is to shed light on it – it is an act of 'throwing light' on a subject. Perhaps this is why we believe in the veracity of the photograph: we believe that it brings something to light that was previously kept in the dark. In the very early days of photography, this was perceived to be the 'tabula rasa' of the film: an uncarved block that could only have what was exposed by light impressed on its surface. However, exposure takes on a deeper meaning when the camera makes all acts – including private acts – public. The camera loves to expose as – through angle, frame and lighting – it reflects things back at you in a new light. The camera is not a voyeur, but sometimes a very vicious tattle-tale who only sees things from its own perspective.

In this investigation, I Heart Television, I decided to invert the knowledge of the camera, or the expectation of enactment happening when the still image is viewed, and make it an exposer – an intrusion on an extremely private act. It started with a literal interpretation of a gesture, loving your television, and took it to a level of mania and hysteria.

I'm not saying that the poses or acts weren't staged – obviously they were – but I tried to introduce a mania or erotic impulsivity to it.

Tuning In
Television Love
The set up of these pictures felt very 'Readers Wives': there was something very domestic about the shots and very seedy about the setting adding to the image's uneasiness. Also, the deranged and ominous motivations behind the gesture – clearly driven by eroticism – provide

I found this series became replete when it followed a sequence and had a poignant 'ending':

I Heart Television
Here we can see the mania and the indulgence, as well as the love and entertainment the TV provides, but for me it's the last image that completes it. It feels like a frenzied action driven by an uncontrollable eroticism, which then inevitably ends in shame. The camera exposes this shame and amplifies it. It focuses on the ridiculousness and makes the figure in the picture feel it. It makes the viewer feel uneasy for peeping into this private act. And what is most surprising is that even though the act is sexual, the over-riding question (or perhaps it is underlying) is did the person actually enjoy this act? The pleasure seems to be taken beyond the point of pleasure to sadness and pain.

I think the interesting thing about this experiment is what is it the camera should see, and should it expose what it sees? Do we even have a choice about what is exposed by the camera and what isn't? To the camera, all acts are fair game.

Also, there is a difference between the knowledge of the presence of the camera and a sense of enactment where the figure expects to be viewed, and presenting the viewer with a sense of privacy and a 'forced enactment'. This 'force' presents the viewer with unease, but could also give birth to intrigue.

Monday, 21 January 2013

On Location 1: The Beach

I've recently been interested by the idea of the performance intervention, or how an intervention leaves very little trace after it happens. The intervention is a gesture that has an accidental audience at the time of capture and is usually documented as a still image after the fact. The viewers of the still image are a more considered audience and the intervention is re-enacted when the image is viewed as an encounter between the photograph and the viewer.

Taking advantage of Falmouth's varied scenery (rural, beach etc), I decided to start investigating this sense of intervention, by using elements of the absurd to intrude on the landscape. For my first investigation, I decided to go to the beach on one of the coldest days in January and have an impromptu beach party. The actions were simple – for instance trying to pour a glass of wine or blowing a party blower in front of the camera. Of course, I also dressed in a party hat, frilly shirt and bow tie.

There were two elements to this: firstly, it was the confidence to actually dress up and just 'do' something. Secondly, it was how well I could take these images by myself on location. I decided to use natural light and set the camera to a low ISO setting (200) to try and retain as much natural light as possible. I did plan more actions, such as popping party poppers, but it was so windy, it made it near impossible.


Beach Party Blower
What I love about these images is there are evidently other people on the beach, but they largely try and ignore what is happening. In fact, the 'accidental audience' met the actions with confusion and gave me a wide berth. Their dogs, however, were much more curious. I had many dogs running up to me and barking at me while their owners were very embarrassed and tried to shoo them away from me. This was especially difficult if I would set the timer on the camera, run for a pose and then have a dog running after me. I think people were also very suspicious of me. Some of them watched me to make sure I wasn't doing anything harmful or damaging – I was actually surprised at the level of concern at what appeared to me to be a completely ridiculous action.

Funnily enough, there were also other photographers on the beach who were trying to capture the waves and scenic landscape. I  found it interesting that they made a decision that was contrary to mine: they purposely chose not to have me in their frame because I was ruining their image of a picturesque beach in January. So in this way, there was an interesting photographic dichotomy going on that day. There was me who was deliberately trying to find the ridiculous, the unusual or the abnormal – in fact I was creating it, causing it. And on the other hand, the other photographers had made a decision to cut out this happening. I won't go so far as to say they weren't looking for the extraordinary – scenery in itself, or simply photographing the grey clouds could be considered just that – but they actively chose to move somewhere else on the beach to preserve its illusion of tranquility.

So a question arises here about which of the photographs is more deceitful: mine for constructing a happening to be documented, or theirs for making a choice not to document something that was happening as simultaneously as the beautiful clouds and rolling waves?

Out To Sea
After a while, the fact that I was dressed in a party hat and sunglasses seemed to fade slightly. However, the focus on constructing the image becomes more intense. Because there is an 'end purpose', the achievement of this purpose becomes primary and the performance becomes focused towards that end. Does it matter that the performance is solely for the camera? If the real focus of the performance is to happen when the image is constructed and printed, then no it doesn't. The process of taking images becomes a rehearsal – you take them over and over until you get it right and then instantly the 'right' image becomes the one you present to your audience.

The weather was a constricting factor throughout the shoot. At one point I tried to go into the sea without my shoes on, but my feet went numb, and running backwards and forwards to the camera became a hassle. Also, I was going to do some shots in just trunks, but it didn't happen because the tripod kept blowing over and there was a limited time I could spend that undressed.

I Wished You Were There (But You Weren't)
What has struck me about some of the images, like the first one on this blog and the one pictured above, is that there is a sense of absence. The gaze in 'I Wished You Were There' says "I am having a great time, but only because you can see me now." Which leads to the question, was I actually having a good time when I was on the beach in the first place, or do I just want the viewer to think that? It very much reminds me of Baudrillard's comparison of the hyper-real to the holiday snapshot. When we look back at it, we convince ourselves we were having a good time in the photo because we smile, gesture or pose in such a way. However, it could have just been another boring and ordinary day.

Nonetheless, this puts some kind of emphasis on absence in the still image not of the performer, but actually of the viewer. The expectancy of the figure in the photograph is that he is eventually viewed, that he comes to life once more. I titled this particular photo 'I Wished You Were There (But You Weren't)' partially because I wanted to encapsulate a sense of fun that the audience wants to share, but also slightly to convey a sense of disappointment on behalf of the person in the photograph that he was essentially celebrating alone.

For the first intervention, I think it was a good experiment. It challenged how gutsy I could be and also a lot can be achieved by acting on artistic impulse, in terms of realising in whatever way an idea that's bouncing around in your head. I learned a bit more about where and how my practice could go and would probably return to this set up with a better camera and tripod, with perhaps slightly more stable weather.

I wondered if the gesture of the action in itself was strong enough to attract much of an accidental audience, but it certainly made me contextualise where the still image sat in relation to an action that you were doing right now.

Sunday, 20 January 2013

The Ghostly Photograph

The idea of of photographs becomes haunted or ghostly is something that Barthes and Baudrillard both discuss. The photograph has an unholy power to collapse past and present into one moment, and also the power of evocative nostalgia – sometimes the power to bring what is dead back to life.

I started to play with this notion of 'ghosting' by using long shutter speed times in order to capture a momentary impression. The place in which I experimented was in itself a transient space – a room on campus that I stay at overnight. It made me think of other places that we temporarily own, or non-places. For instance, when we go on holiday and stay in a hotel, we often refer to the hotel room as 'my' room, 'my' bed and 'home'. However, it has been a home to many people at one time.

This impermanence is a quality that performance shares: it exists as a brief impression on both the environment and on the mind of the person who witnesses it. I think this ghosting effect very accurately captures this sense of something once being there, but now no longer. In a sense, all of our actions become ghosted and leave the tiniest, momentary impression on the environment.

Falling Into Bed

I found that choosing where you wanted the deepest impression to be left was one of the most important parts of this exercise. For example, the final point – lying on the bed – left the longest exposure, but the motion blur gives the feeling that the person could either be getting up or lying down. As long as the gesture has a cyclical nature, the gesture stars to take on a repetitive power of its own.

Faceless
This particular image, I was shaking my head side to side. I thought it might give the impression of looking around the room, but instead the lasting image is of a faceless, more frantic being. The motion produces a very nervous kinetic energy – it almost buzzes.

The most effective image came from a very subtle impression:

I Woz(n't) (T)Here
The impression is almost unnoticeable at first, but on second glance it is evident the shadow in doorway is a figure. I have showed it to people since who always squint as though they wonder why I am showing them a picture of a room, before they say, "Ohhhh" and realise.

The image for me encapsulates the sense of someone or something having been there and now is there no longer. There is also some question as to what the figure is going through – Loss? Grief? Upset? The transience of the mood is also captured here as a passing moment. I also think it gives a sense of unease about putting context to what is essentially a 'non place'. This room may, over time, be populated by many more people. However, it is now no longer an impersonal, anonymous room you can make your own – it is haunted by this event, by this figure and by their emotion.

I think this making a place out of anonymous rooms and also trying to track the 'impressions' that we as human beings leave on buildings has an interesting angle of transience and perhaps highlights the disappearance of action effectively – that ultimately the world is populated by ghosts who live near-invisible marks on the physical environment.