The idea of having fans is something I am entirely comfortable with. The idea of all the success I’ve had, for that matter, makes perfect sense to me.
I remember, several years ago, having conversations about it with friends who were also gaining a following on Flickr, wondering at what it meant that people liked our work, how to respond to their emails asking for advice.
It comes up, these days, every once in awhile, in various ways. In relation to the photography workshops I’m teaching this summer in jolly old England, in discussions on how I seem to find all my models, or included in a question on how I talk to my subjects, get them to appear comfortable on film, when talking to Natalye here, who stopped by my place to have her picture taken while visiting LA.
To boil it down to a single sentence: lack of humility.
I can’t say if it’d work for everyone else, but not being very humble has treated me quite well.
Matter of fact, I’ll probably end up making this part of the workshop, that’s how serious I am.
When a fellow photographer asks how I interact with my subjects, how I put them at ease, I tell him quite simply: I tell my subjects not to worry, that I am a very good photographer.
That with a digital camera, I’m pretty damn good. With a medium format camera, I’m very very good. And with a Polaroid? As a Polaroid portrait photographer? I’m one of the best in the world.
Now, sure, it’s a bit of an exaggeration. But you should see the look on a subject’s face as I rattle all that off. It’s not one of disgust, or annoyance. They know that it’s probably not true, but they’re at the very least comforted by the fact that I’m not nervous, that I’m confident that the shoot we’re about to have will go well. And that feeling, that idea that’s coming off me in waves that this is gonna be a good thing, it’s infectious.
A lack of humility can be a good thing. If you’re vocal about it, if you can keep it simple, keep it as a sign of confidence without becoming obnoxious (and I’m sure my ex girlfriends would say I’m not terribly adept at walking that fine line), then you’re showing your subject something of crucial importance in a shoot.
You’re showing them that you believe, quite strongly, that this is going to go well. That you’ve taken stock of them, and think it’s gonna go just fine.
There’s a visible change in a subject as you make them more comfortable. When the photographer, the one who’s looking at the photos, taking the photos, who’s sized up the model and made a judgement, when that judgement is “these pictures are gonna be awesome!” it has a visible effect.
The models laugh when I give out that little speech. Many raise an eyebrow, incredulously. But they all smile. Shoulders relax a bit, limbs loosen up. How you feel about yourself has a palpable effect on your subjects. You give off a sense of shyness, that is reflected in the shots.
You come off as playful, you’ll see that in the photos. Fun, weird, tentative, whatever you’re putting out, consciously or unconsciously, you’ll see that in your work.
So when you want to shoot a subject, and you want them to feel confident, feel safe in the idea that things are going to go well, it can’t hurt to give them a little assurance.
Lack of humility. Or, to put it another way, Confidence is infectious. There ya go. And, bit more humble, that way.
Comments
No comments.