I talked to Greg about this because I was bothered about the idea of taking someone's portrait. When he showed us a couple of photos done by professional photographers in the industry and his comments about style, gesture, and purpose, it raised several questions in my mind:
1. What makes a good portrait?
2. Does it have to be real? What about surreal portraits?
3. Does it have to tell a story? But what if a person's face is interesting on it's own?
4. How does one take a candid portrait without trespassing on someone's privacy?
5. What is good portrait lighting? Does a portrait have to look 'unpolished'?
It was an interesting conversation to say the least. I told him about my struggle with seeing and watching. I told him that I found it embarrassing to be 'photo-journalistic,' to take a stranger's portrait on the street without asking for their permission. The candidness of the moment would be ruined by awareness but at the same time, how can I just steal a picture of someone's life? It's a weird feeling: watching, loving what I see, and interrupting it with a click.
He brought up the idea of watching vs. seeing what we want to see/ imposing our vision on a scene.
"I want to stop taking pictures of pictures."
It's a challenge to distance ourselves further from the reality that we are composing to the reality that's actually there. I remember Barbara Bordick mentioning that "Every portrait is a self-portrait"--on the one hand, the photographer has a say. He/she has stake on what the photograph is meant to say. On the other hand, because of this, it brings up the question of who the photograph is really about. Is it about the subject or the artist?
Richard Avedon then talks about surfaces and how the face or a specific surface was enough to make a photograph. It's true that it seems like that's all photography is, a one-dimensional art. Flat. I still don't know how I feel about this. Is portraiture merely a means to record a surface? It seems too easy... to forget the 'why.'
"Personally, I wouldn't take a picture of someone that I wouldn't want of me." This is one of Greg's greatest advice to us, for sure. It implies the gravity of the work we create--how our pictures affect the world's way of seeing itself.
"Sometimes I wish I could just do this: (blink) CLICK."
I also told Greg about this couple that J and I saw in New York. We were walking towards the subway and there was a couple in their sixties wearing black and white. The woman was white, with snow white hair, wearing a black dress, and white shoes. The man was black, with a black beret, a white suit, and black shoes. They looked like they stepped out of a movie set. It was too perfect..how opposite they were. Coincidentally, they sat in front of me and J. AND endearingly, they were so in-love. I told Greg how I'll never forget that couple and it was during those times that I really felt the burden of ethics. It would be perfect to have a built-in shutter inside our brains when something like this falls on your lap. But, then again "if you think about it, that moment will never be lost because you'll always remember that couple on the subway. And because of that, it'll resurrect itself in your future work."
"Sometimes it's my dream to hire an artist's model. And just look. Have the pleasure of looking. Not in a creepy way. But to really see someone. I took a drawing class and it was illuminating because you really need to pay attention to the details instead of just going 'click.'"
"Ultimately, portraits should be about the subject. But that's just me."
As long as we are aware of the person in front of our lens and in control of the person behind it, then we'll be okay. It's a matter of struggling with ourselves, finding a balance between what we want to say and the story that's already there.
