Over Exposure
15
Artist in Residence
“NATE,” JORDAN CALLED. He was at a table with Simon Guzik. “Can you join us for a drink? Even stay for dinner if you can.”
“I’d love to, Mr. Marsh,” I said, “but I promised to escort Renée home after the event. I think she’s earned all the care I can give her.”
“Oh, invite your beautiful model to join us,” Guzik said. “I’m thinking I might want to commission a whole set of photos of her.”
“Thank you, Mr. Guzik. I’ll check with Renée and see if she’s willing to stay for a while. I’m sure you understand, though, that my first responsibility is to my model.”
“Of course! That’s the way it should be. If that was Sarah, it’s exactly how I’d want you to act.”
I packed up my equipment and talked to Renée. She was delighted that she could stay to have a drink. Richard was still sitting at the piano and I noticed he had a drink. I was glad he got one, too.
Leslie took my lights and tripod bag, assisted by Lance, who shook my hand again. I turned to Richard and said that we had to leave by four-thirty. He grinned at me.
“I’m off the clock now. Mr. Lapinski, the manager, has invited me to play and entertain here in the lounge until eight. It’s good pay and I get dinner, too,” Richard smiled.
“Go, man! That’s great!”
I took my camera case to the check room and was given a ticket to reclaim it. “Nate Hart Attic Allure” was plastered all over the case and the check room was secure. I went to escort Renée to the table with my patrons. The people at the tables had shifted and we moved to a booth where Renée and I were surrounded by my four patrons and Jordan.
“Renée, this is Mr. Marsh, a collector of fine photography, with which appellation he has graced my pictures,” I said.
“Take it easy with the big words,” Jordan said. “My daughter isn’t here.”
That stung a little, but it was said in good humor, not in malice.
“These are my patrons,” I continued. “Mr. Guzik, Mr. Heintzelman, and I’m afraid I don’t know the names of these two gentlemen.”
“Let’s say we’re Dorn and Laughton,” said the guy on the left pointing first to himself and then to the other guy I didn’t know. “Miss Bach, we find it best that most patrons stay anonymous. It keeps us out of the problems that Nate had with Sylvia Drummond. In fact, I believe Nate has never met the fifth patron and is unlikely ever to.”
I had to agree with that.
“So, what images will we see from this presentation?” Heintzelman asked.
“I did large format portraits of two poses in black and white and the same two poses in color,” I said. “You’ll have your choice of either pose in either black and white or color. I know that if they choose to take one of the large prints for the club, they’ll want color.”
“I’ve always preferred the black and white,” Dorn said. “But I’m interested in seeing the color version. The pose was beautiful. As was the model.”
“Thank you, sir,” Renée said. “I think it was all through the artistic direction of Nate. He managed everything—not just the pose. He chose my dress, designed my makeup, and directed Leanne in doing my hair. I was just kind of what he hung everything on.”
“We’ve always said the boy was an artist,” Guzik laughed. “But it might be that his greatest skill demonstrated here today was choosing his models. Not only you, but that young man playing the piano. Well done.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“So, what are prints going to cost us,” Laughton asked.
“I don’t set the prices on my photos,” I said. “My business manager, Anna Marx, manages that aspect. I’d end up giving everything away. I’m sure, however that she’ll give a ‘discount’ to patrons of ten percent above what it costs anyone else.” The men all laughed.
“I tell you what,” Laughton laughed. “Have your business manager add another ten percent for each of your models and you have a deal.”
Renée gasped. I looked at her and raised my martini to her. She smiled and lifted her Manhattan. Drinking in the afternoon was going to be a dangerous activity for both of us. I resolved to refrain from any more and pulled out my pipe.
“Do you mind, Renée?” I asked.
“Oh, no. I don’t mind. I love the smell of your pipe, as long as you don’t blow smoke in my face.”
“How about that commission?” Guzik asked. “Your choice of theme, but I would love to have a full set of photos of Miss Bach. I would hang them in my office next to the set of Sarah.”
“Sarah?” Renée asked.
“Sarah Fox…” I started.
“The actress? You have photos of Sarah Fox?” Renée asked. “I was in New York over the holidays and saw her off Broadway in Two Coins for the Poor. She was wonderful! I’m sorry it wasn’t a very good play, but that wasn’t because of her acting.”
“I’m amazed that you even know of my daughter. It makes a father proud,” Guzik said.
“Her father! Wow! The rumor in the theatre department was that her father was some famous gangster,” Renée said with wide eyes. I groaned.
“Ah for the good old days. You see, Dorn? They don’t even know who we are anymore. Washed up,” Guzik said. I wasn’t sure if he was joking.
“I think Renée and I could come up with another set,” I said. “I want to shoot a portfolio for her to use with agencies anyway.”
“You’ll do that, Nate?” she asked.
“Absolutely. Mr. Guzik, I’ll set a time with you to discuss the content and scope of a set with Renée.”
“Excellent. Just contact Mr. Mayer. He always knows how to reach me.”
My Uncle Nate. He’d been the one who found my patrons and set up my first appointments for Chicago models to come out to Tenbrook for portfolios. Most had five-year holds before I could release their photos to the public, but Sarah’s had come with an immediate release. I had one of her photos hanging in my studio.
We had a cordial afternoon with the gentlemen, but I didn’t intend to stay for dinner, so I expressed my apologies for taking Renée away with me.
“And I need to get my camera equipment out of the coat check before they realize what they have back there and sell it!” I joked.
“Not to worry. There has never been a theft from that check room,” Dorn said. “Capone used to leave a suitcase with $100,000 in it there when he came in for dinner. Just in case he needed to pay someone off.”
Al Capone was once a member of the club? Crap!
I collected my case and Renée’s wrap and we left.
“Nate, would you like to come in for a little while?” Renée asked when I escorted her to her door. “Please?”
During our cab ride to her apartment building, she’d managed to bite nearly all the lipstick off her lips. She looked sweet and vulnerable.
“I’d like to offer a couple of suggestions for the commission,” she hurriedly continued.
“Oh. Sure. My family knows I’ll be late this evening. I should have offered to buy you dinner. I intended to and then we got caught up with the guys at the club.”
“You’re a member there, aren’t you?” she asked as she unlocked the door.
“Yes. I kind of inherited my membership. I’ve never really used it except for the shoot today. And my patrons paid the club expenses for that.”
“They’re rich and powerful, aren’t they?” she said.
“I don’t know them that well. My… um… agent connected us.” There was no sense advertising that Mr. Mayer was my uncle.
“Do you know what wealth and power do to a girl who is struggling? They make her hot. And when it’s coupled with an artist who made me into a real work of art, I’m dripping.”
Renée stepped back from me a step and in a quick move her dress fell to the floor. The only other thing she was wearing was her high heels.
“Take advantage of me, Nate. I’m naked and turned on. And don’t think it’s just because I had a cocktail. I intended to offer you this before I knew anything else today.”
“You’re beautiful, Renée. I feel like a fool turning you down.”
“You promised!” she said. Her tone lowered. “I mean, you don’t need to fuck me if I’m really that repulsive to you, but you promised to help me out after our shoot. Didn’t you?”
I couldn’t argue with that. I set my case down and took my jacket off just in time to catch her in my arms and kiss her. What an incredible, sexy woman. I was already looking forward to our next photo session.
Somehow—yeah, I don’t know how these things happen—when I had her stretched out on the bed, fondling her breasts, and dipping my fingers into her hot center, my clothes started to fall off, too. Sinking my cock into this sexy woman was all too easy to do and she was definitely ready for the invasion. It’s funny how a drink will speed a woman up while it slows a man down. Still, I was happy that Renée had come three times before I unloaded in the condom.
“It doesn’t mean I expect to be a regular lover or anything, Nate. I’m not looking for a boyfriend and I know you have all the girlfriends you could possibly want, but it’s really nice to know that you won’t get a girl all riled up, like posing for you does to me, and then leave her hanging. I just… really had fun this afternoon. I’m ready to pose again as soon as you want me.”
“We’re definitely going to script the commission for Guzik,” I said. “I planned to pay you for your work this afternoon, but it doesn’t mean I’m paying you for anything other than your posing. It’s exactly the same amount that Richard got paid by the school as a school model. Is that okay?”
“You know I did it without expecting anything but the photos you promised. So, thank you. When can we work on the commission?”
“The next couple of weeks are gone,” I said. “Ronda has her last final of the quarter tomorrow and I’ve cleared my calendar to spend as much time with the family over her spring break as I can.”
“Our spring break was two weeks ago. It still seems like forever until school gets out May first,” she said. “How about the next week?”
“That’s when I’m on spring break and I’m going to LA to preview the movie.”
“You know, I’m a theatre major. I’m not ready this year, but if you happened to find someone who’d be interested in me, could you put in a good word?”
“Of course I will, Renée. In fact, I want your resume and headshot to take with me. I don’t know that I’ll have any influence in Hollywood at all after the movie comes out in May.”
“Oh, thank you, Nate!”
I was dressed and ready to go, but Renée threw her naked body against me to kiss again and I nearly got undressed to return to bed. Instead, I gave her bare buns a squeeze and told her I’d call her after Easter. She should put some ideas together for our set and I’d compare with her. We’d plan on shooting the first weekend of May.
After one more kiss that gave me time to fully appreciate her boobs a little more, I managed to get out of her apartment and head home.
The next week was exactly what I projected. I’d cleared my schedule of everything but my classes and, of course, my work study. Anna and Patricia were home with me Friday afternoon when Ronda got in from her last final of the quarter. We celebrated by going out to Pizzeria Uno and had a loving time in bed that night. Anna had to go back to school on Monday, and Patricia went to work. I got home after my last class on Monday to find Ronda dancing around the apartment naked. I could smell a casserole in the oven.
She danced right into my arms and my kiss.
“We have time to make love before Patricia and Toni get home. The casserole is in for another forty-five minutes,” she said between kisses. I picked her up and headed for the bedroom.
“I planned to get that casserole in as soon as I got home,” I said as I stripped off my clothes and rolled into bed beside her.
“Then you’d have been too busy when you got home to make love to me,” she giggled.
“I’ll be home at one-thirty tomorrow, so I’ll be able to cook and make love, too. I love you, Ronda.”
“I love you, Nate. I feel like I’ve done nothing but study and go to class since the first of January. Our time with Adrienne seems so long ago, and that was the last time I really had any dedicated time with you.”
“Has it been so long? Classes this term have really been eating our time, haven’t they?”
“Yes. I think even your classes in photography have been harder than you imagined. Are you learning lots?”
“An incredible amount. I almost feel like a beginner in these classes.”
“But your tableau went well this week.”
“It was a real high. I managed to get the contact sheets printed between classes this morning and they look great. I’ll run them over to the club between classes Wednesday,” I said. “How did you survive all your finals?”
“Study. Some of the classes were pretty logical, but having to cite international law regarding pollution on my International Relations final was a bear. I’ll be glad to be finished with Russian next term so I can start on Mandarin.”
“You’re kidding! You’re going to learn Chinese?”
“I have four languages now and a fifth will move me into an elite area of the diplomatic services. But I don’t want to think about school now. I have a week with my lovers. And we’re all going to want a heaping helping of Nate this week, since you’ll be off in LaLa Land Sunday.”
“That’s not what I should be doing. I should be spending my spring break with the family.”
“Well, the family has other plans.”
“Really? What?”
“I’m cutting my entire first week of classes next week. The four girls are going up to our summer home in Stratford to get it ready for occupation in May.”
“Mmm. Now I really wish I was going to be with you,” I said. I moved over the top of my lover and she spread her legs to accommodate me.
“Be in me now, lover. I love to feel you in me. Stay there. Live there. I love being connected to you.”
Sadly, I couldn’t just live there. It was too exciting for either of us to stay still and we climaxed just before we heard Patricia and Toni come into the apartment. It certainly wasn’t the last time we made love that night, though.
I took the contact prints to the club Wednesday along with the price sheet Anna had fixed for me. I was hoping I could just drop it off and run, but I had to greet the patrons and they looked at the proofs immediately, then at the price sheet.
“Look at this!” Guzik declared. “He’s finally got his prices where they should be. If he keeps getting this for his pictures, he won’t be needing patrons any longer!”
I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic. I was afraid we’d overstepped our bounds with these prices and I was ready to back off.
“This is the key!” Dorn said. “I’ve been waiting for an offer like this. I want both of them. There are the five of us, Nate, and the two models. The club will want the color image. We should tie it up.”
“You know Marsh will want one. He says he’s not a patron, but he has the most complete collection of Hart photos outside of Hart’s personal gallery. Nate, what are you required to submit to your class?”
“Just an 8x10 of the initial tableau,” I said. I was wondering what they were getting at.
“Perfect,” said Heintzelman. “Let’s say there is a total run of twelve 16x20 prints, signed and numbered. Of each of the two black and whites. Seven are spoken for and Nate has three he can sell when they’re worth three times this. And we still add on ten percent for each of the models. The club gets that huge color print Lech wants for the lounge. And that’s all that gets printed of this sitting.”
“We’re asking for more than was offered in the price list,” Guzik said. “We’ll have to offer more.”
“Nate,” Heintzelman said, “we need to discuss this more fully. We’d like you to put a hold on any other prints of this than the one you owe your class. When you get back from your trip to California, we’ll have a firm proposal for you. You can rest assured it will be for more than your price list asks.”
“No problem,” I said. “I don’t have time to get into the darkroom this week anyway. Um… If you need to negotiate any pricing, please give Anna a call. She’ll be at Attic Allure Canada all next week. If you’ll excuse me, I need to run to class.”
I took off out of the club like a bat out of hell. I didn’t know what my patrons were cooking up, but I didn’t need to be there to talk about it.
“I remember when the discussions at the club were about hooch and running numbers,” Jordan said. “Now these guys are big art investors trying to manipulate the market for Nate’s art.”
“That’s true,” Uncle Nate answered. “But I don’t see it as a bad thing for Nate.”
“No. As long as they don’t cut me out of the deal, I’m good with it,” Jordan said.
I’d invited Jordan and Uncle Nate to have dinner with Anna and me so I could touch base with reality on the deal the patrons wanted to make. I thought they’d toss cold water on the idea, but it seemed like they were all for it.
“Isn’t it a lot of money to ask for one of my photographs? I’m not famous.”
“Playing the futures,” Jordan said. “They’re all big in the stock market these days.”
“Remember what the patron in Las Vegas paid?” Anna asked.
“That was a special deal,” I said. “I didn’t set the price and he insisted that his be the only one in that size.”
“And how is this different?” she asked. “You have a limited edition request. Twelve copies of the same size, all signed and numbered. You’ll only be able to print 8x10s of that picture from there on. And no more color prints. The extra big print the club wants will be exclusive. Don’t worry, I have ways to keep making money off these prints for a long time to come. Are they full frame prints?”
“Yes. They were perfectly composed to be printed full frame from the Linhof.”
“And the negative is numbered?”
“Yes, in a way. Since it’s not a roll of film, there’s a kind of universal frame number on the neg.”
“Great! Are both pictures good? I mean both shots of the same pose.”
“Yeah. Deciding which was better is a real challenge. Subtle things, though. The tilt of her head. The tension on the strings.”
“Then we’re in the clear. You print one negative for your patrons and this limited edition, then you deface the negative.”
“Do what!?”
“They need to know that you will never print another copy from that negative. Ever. But you still have the second negative. You’ll never sign prints from that one. You’ll never print 16x20s of it. But you can print and sell as many of it in a smaller size as you want. The patrons get what they want. The club gets what it wants. Everyone is happy.”
“Smart girl,” Jordan said. “Completely on the up and up. These guys won’t argue about it.”
“Uh… Anna, you know you have to negotiate this deal with them. They’ll call you in Canada next week.”
“Fine. I know how to handle them.”
“I promised Mayer here that I wouldn’t recruit you for my business, Nate,” Jordan said. “But I’d like to consider recruiting this young lady. I like her style.”
The girls packed and left on Saturday morning. It was unusual for me to be alone in the apartment. I think the last time I’d gotten drunk and burned my draft card. There was no danger of that this time.
“Remember, if you can’t wait for Adrienne tonight, there’s always Leslie or Leanne or Rita or Renée or someone you haven’t mentioned to us,” Ronda giggled as she kissed me goodbye. I thought I could survive a night alone without calling up someone to fuck. Geez!
I went to the studio and got my equipment packed. I also had my proof sheets and a portfolio of newer prints that I knew Adrienne would want to see. I packed a few copies of Renée’s headshots and earlier Attic Allure photos with the copy of her resume she gave me.
Uncle Nate picked me up Sunday morning and took me out to the airport. I didn’t see him as much these days as I used to. I missed our chats and showing him what I’d taken pictures of.
“Why don’t you and Aunt Grace come up to Stratford for a while this summer?” I said.
“That’s a possibility. It depends a little on life. I’m worried about your dad, Nate.”
“What?” That was the first I’d heard anyone mention my dad with a sense of concern.
“I’m sure your parents haven’t mentioned anything. They don’t believe in burdening others with their troubles,” he said. “Your dad got that new job wiring trailers down in Sage. But he’s missed some work with continued stomach problems. His doctor told him it was the stress of his long commute each day, especially in winter. But the ulcer, or whatever it is, hasn’t gotten better.”
“I should cancel this trip and go see him. I’m so self-centered! I haven’t been paying attention.”
“That’s exactly what you shouldn’t do. That’s why they haven’t said anything. They don’t want to disrupt your life.”
“I just can’t believe they wouldn’t tell us about it. Do my sisters know? Kat?”
“I don’t think they’ve talked to Kat, or to Deb or Naomi. With Naomi in Germany, I know they don’t speak to her any more than you do. I’ll go out on Easter and see how he’s doing.”
“We all planned to go for the weekend. That’s two weeks, right?”
“Yes. Seeing you would certainly perk up his spirits. Especially if you took Patricia and Toni.”
“We’ll plan on it.”
I checked my bags and went to the gate area in a new wing of the terminal. O’Hare was a monstrous big airport, said to be the busiest in the world. I checked my ticket and realized that I wouldn’t be seeing Missy because I was on a different airline entirely.
And what a difference. The monstrous plane parked at the gate was connected to the terminal by two jetways. When I entered, I was directed forward where a stewardess stowed my camera case and portfolio, took my coat and hat, and led me to my seat. It was huge! I was on the right side of the big plane that had the usual two seats on each side and seven rows. They kind of angled toward each other because we were clear up in the nose of the airplane. In the back of the section, there was a circular staircase up to the first class lounge—just in case you didn’t have enough lounge space in the huge first class section.
I guess this service had just begun for Chicago routes. Most 747s were either coast-to-coast or across the ocean to Europe or Hawaii. Regardless, it held the most passengers of any first class flight I’d been on. I would definitely need to check out the lounge.
My seatmate was a pleasant older woman going to California to see her grandchildren. She had a ton of stories to tell me about how old each was and when Billy had learned to ride a bicycle. “A little terror,” she said, “but I love him to pieces. Do you have children?”
I decided to just claim Toni as mine and told her all about my two-year-old’s many adventures and how she loved to dance. We had lunch and other than the mimosa we were all served when we got on the plane, I didn’t have anything but coffee to drink. I never did make it to the upstairs lounge.
A driver met me at the Los Angeles terminal and collected my bags for me. I was led to a limo and when I got in, found Adrienne relaxing in the back. She was very relaxed—as in totally naked. That was a temptation I had no intention of resisting.
We exchanged pleasantries while we attempted to devour each other on the hour trip to her apartment. We didn’t actually fuck, but she was very happy about my newly shaved face between her legs. And she didn’t hesitate to treat me to a luxuriously long blowjob.
“Are you going to dress before we get to your apartment?” I laughed when the driver announced we would arrive in ten minutes.
“As you wish, Master,” she said. “I have clothes, or I will remain nude and follow you as your pet, wherever you go.”
“Oh, Fifi, while I am proud of having you with me and am glad you are willing to please me in this way, I am also jealous and don’t want anyone else to see all the treasure I have at my fingertips. Let’s clothe you so everyone can’t see the perfection of these beautiful breasts and exquisite pussy.”
“You are such a wonderful master!” she said.
Go naked? Out in public? I had to treat the proposal as serious. If I’d said yes, Adrienne would have gotten out of the limo, placed her leash in my hand, and walked proudly up to the door of her apartment, absolutely naked. I would never understand what drove her to simply please me. I could tell that I needed to give her some challenging tasks so she didn’t feel I rejected her offer or that I wasn’t willing to have her please me.
“Do you have a schedule for me, Fifi?” I asked as we followed Samuel, carting my bags, up to her door.
The outfit she’d hastily put on in the limo was just a miniskirt and a tube top. She hadn’t bothered with underwear and I walked up the stairs with my hand under the skirt on her bare butt. If she’d stayed naked, we’d have been fucking on the stairs.
“Yes, sir,” she said. “You asked for a full schedule when you came to town. We start with studio sessions tomorrow morning.”
“What studio?”
“I have booked space at the Academy for Film and Photography this week.”
“Is that expensive?”
“They are treating you as a guest artist. Some of your sessions will have other students attending as a kind of master class.”
“I’m supposed to teach?”
“Merely do what you usually do and pause to explain occasionally or hold a ten-minute question and answer session afterward.”
“I guess I can do that. Seems like it might… um… inhibit some of my interactions.”
“This is Hollywood, Nate. Certainly, when you have a known movie artist in for a photo, you’d tone that down anyway. When the subject is an unknown, they will accept the students as just part of how things are done in LaLa Land. You’ll have several of both kinds.”
“Okay. What days am I there and what hours?”
“We start tomorrow morning at nine with the first session. You remember Michael from the New Year’s Eve party? He followed through and I agreed to set things up for his portrait session.”
“Just portraits? No Attic Allure?”
“No. All of your clients are coming for an Attic Allure photo.”
“What will I do for props?”
“Remember Gary, our grip on the show? He’s assembled two trunks of miscellaneous props. I don’t know what is in them. It will be a surprise for everyone. I also have a stack of drapery for you, but your clients will need to bring their own costumes or go naked,” Adrienne smiled.
I thanked Samuel for depositing the bags in the foyer. As soon as the door was closed, I stripped Adrienne. She was delighted that I would take advantage of her.
“Now, my pet, I’m supposed to be out here for a screening and critique of the movie. When is that going to happen?” I asked as I pulled her to the sofa and onto my lap.
“Yes, Master. The screening is Wednesday at four, followed by dinner with the production staff. Then Thursday will be the day they really get into tearing apart the project and reconstructing it. Please forgive me. I will need to act as the voice of our sponsor during that meeting.”
“Of course! Our sponsor will always take precedence. How is he going to know what the film looks like?”
“A copy is being driven to him on Tuesday afternoon so he can view it in his private screening room when we do. He has promised not to view the film before we do, so there is no chance of contamination of initial responses. He will fax me his comments during the night.”
“So that’s two days… two and a half days at the school doing sittings and talking about the process. A day and a half working on the film. And what is the schedule for Friday?”
“The school is providing darkroom time and materials—assuming you are shooting all black and white for this. You’ll have Friday to put the prints together. I’ll help mount them, and Friday evening, the students you’ve seen in your sessions through the week will be invited to a reception where your week’s work will be on display. You will be, too, of course. Then, after you have suitably punished your Fifi for making you work so hard, you will go to the airport for your flight home Saturday.”
“I’m exhausted already.”
“My poor master. Dinner will be delivered at five, knowing that is already seven o’clock in Chicago. Is there anything your pet can do to ease your weariness before then?”
Oh, yes. There were things my pet could do, and she knew how to do them very well.
Among the things we did during the evening was to go over the portfolio I brought. I told her about the scheme of my patrons to make Renée’s print into a limited edition and Anna’s scheme to have it even more profitable. She looked at the proof with a loupe and sighed.
“I only wish I had been the model for this wonderful photo. Our sponsor will want to be included on the distribution for the limited edition and will pay whatever the price is set at.”
“Speaking of which, I should call the girlfriends in Stratford. It’s already nearly ten there. Perhaps Anna can give me some insight to the prices.”
“If Master permits, Fifi would so love to say hello to Miss A, Miss R, and Miss P.”
“If they are all available and want to speak to you, my pet, of course I will permit it. However, I might need to have my cock in your pussy while you are talking.”
Adrienne giggled, but when we made the call, I think all three of my girlfriends might have come when Fifi climaxed.
Adrienne and I were at the AFP in good time for my nine o’clock session with the actor who I now realized looked familiar because his father was a famous actor.
“Michael, I’m glad you made arrangements for an Attic Allure photo session,” I said.
“Your assistant did a great sales job,” he laughed. “And it’s good to be able to do something for the Academy. I’m sure we’ll have a good demonstration for them. Any time you need to take a question or explain something to the class, take your time.”
“Thanks. I haven’t done too many class presentations, but I’ve met a couple of members who will be assisting me with lights and props and I’m confident they’ll be right with me. What kind of things do you have in mind for your picture?”
“How about a crazy director thing?”
“We’ll work on that. First, let’s get started with that all-important headshot. You told me your agent wants you with a more mature look, right?”
“You remember that! Yeah. He says I’m too old to play teenagers anymore.”
“Then let’s get you on the stool.”
“Suit and tie?”
“Nope. Too much like a high school yearbook. Let’s go for the rugged look. Open collar. Two buttons. Good, we’ll start with that.”
I used the Hasselblad, which was perfectly fine for most portrait work. I wasn’t happy with the pose, though. I stepped away from the camera and talked quietly with my model.
“Michael, you need to be seen as mature, but sexy. The T-shirt just doesn’t make it with the two-button look. Would you mind losing it?” I asked.
“I looked at your portfolio when Adrienne showed it to me. I wondered how you were going to get me topless,” he laughed as he unbuttoned his shirt. He pulled it off and then stripped his T-shirt off.
“Not completely yet,” I said. “Put the white shirt back on.”
There were a couple of hoots from the class as Michael put his shirt back on.
“Hey!” I said, turning to the audience. “No model needs to be catcalled on set. That goes for men and women. Turn it off and be professional.”
I didn’t think my first words to the class would be so harsh, but if they thought they could hoot at Michael being topless, I hated to think what they might get into if I had a nude woman I was working with. There were several apologies from around the room and they got quiet.
“Elliot, could we have the low stool next to the high one here?” I said to one of my designated assistants. He quickly brought me the stool and I set it in front of the stool Michael was sitting on. He’d gotten his shirt on, buttoned, and tucked in while I was lecturing the class.
“What would you like here, Nate?” Michael asked.
“I’d like you to put a foot up on the low stool and lean forward a little with your arms folded on your knee. That’s better. Here, let’s roll your sleeves up a couple notches,” I said.
I didn’t wait for him to respond. I treated him like any other model and just unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up a little. He got back in position and I adjusted how far forward he was leaning, then the set of his shoulders so his torso wasn’t quite facing me, but his head was.
“Now it’s all face work,” I said. “Let’s start with a casual smile—no, not a glamour smile. Just like you see an old friend. Good.”
I took half a dozen shots and then lined up the Linhof for a 4x5 portrait. I adjusted the left light so it wasn’t quite in his eyes and got him back in the right pose.
“Here we go,” I said. “This is the money shot.”
I took the picture and heard a lot of snickers from behind me.
“You might not want to use that term out here,” he chuckled.
“What? Why?”
“It’s a porn industry term that refers to the come shot where a guy is spraying the girl. Or another guy.”
“Oh, crap. Excuse my midwestern ignorance,” I said. “Glad you understood what I really meant. Let’s get you ready for that Attic Allure shot as the crazy director. You’ve directed movies?”
“Only college level. I’ve got rights to a good script, though, and I plan to put it in production next spring.”
“Great! Let’s make the hair a little less than perfect here. Not quite mad scientist, but definitely pre-occupied.” I mussed his perfect hair up and then turned to the first trunk Gary had packed for me. I had no idea what I’d find in it.
“Michael,” I called, “do you have a black T-shirt or turtleneck with you?”
He laughed. “Every artist has a black shirt. If you don’t mind, I’ll step behind the changing screen this time.”
I pulled out a couple of props that I thought would work and met him back at the set.
“Elliot, I’ll need the black backdrop. Is there a director’s chair here anyplace? Like in a film and photography academy?”
Everybody in the room was sitting in one and I selected a tall one. Michael pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
“Can I grab a smoke?” he asked.
“Perfect. If you can hold on a minute, I want you with the cigarette in one hand and this in the other.”
I handed him a megaphone that was in the trunk. It looked like a toy, but that was perfect for a crazy director. I got him on the chair and he got his cigarette out. We wrapped the pack up in the sleeve of his black T-shirt. The scene came together perfectly and I shot a few in rapid succession with the Hasselblad and then switched to the Linhof. I adjusted his hand positions and the backlight so it just haloed his shoulders and head, making the background truly disappear.
“This is it,” I said. It was a frozen action shot and perfect. Smoke was coming from his mouth as he was lifting his megaphone and had the cigarette waving in the air. I got the first shot, changed position of the camera, and then took the second.
We weren’t done by a long shot, but I’d gotten the shot he wanted as well as a good portrait. Next, I wanted a real glamour shot instead of the kind of humorous one. We worked well together and in half an hour we were both satisfied that we got what we wanted. Michael stepped behind the privacy screen and put his regular T-shirt and shirt on, then joined me out front to the applause of the students.
“Sir, how did you feel about Mr. Hart just pushing you around into position? It was like you were a puppet?” a student asked.
“First, I’m not ‘sir.’ I’m just Michael. Second, puppet is a good word for it. There’s a big difference between being a model and being an actor, though there is an overlap. In acting, the director’s vision is dependent on what the actor can bring to it. Can you emote and capture the character? In photography, the model is dependent on what the photographer can see. Yes, the model needs to follow the direction, but I won’t have the opportunity to build a character through a thirty-line monologue in Hamlet. The fractional turn of the head that Nate gave me, may have brought me into the perfect light or have hidden a blemish I didn’t know I had. It was great to be pushed around by Nate Hart.”
“Mr. Hart, did you talk to Michael about his scene before you packed to come here? How did you know to have a megaphone in your trunk?” asked another student.
“I’m just Nate. I’ll be here for three days, so let’s get rid of any pretense that I’m a professor,” I said. “The trunk was packed by the best boy on our movie. I had no idea what was in it until I opened it and looked inside. I still don’t know what’s in the other one. I did know that Adrienne arranged a bunch of fabric for me to pull and use as draping when we got to the boudoir scene.”
“Why do you have trunks of miscellaneous props anyway? Couldn’t you have set the scene without the megaphone?” a young woman asked.
“I could have taken a picture of Michael without the megaphone or the cigarette. What would have made it different than any other picture that a thousand photographers have taken of him? He’d have looked like a crazy man, but what would have said he was a crazy director?” There was a little laughter. “A stewardess I know carries a little fixed focus cartridge camera with her wherever she goes. Lots of memories. But are any of her photos different than anyone else’s photo of the same subject? At Attic Allure Chicago and Attic Allure Canada, I have huge rooms filled with junk that changes all the time. We buy, sell, and trade stuff. I consider every item in the Attic to be a story waiting for an actor. You should seriously consider investing in a trunkful of junk.”
The students applauded. I turned to Michael and shook his hand.
“Michael, thanks for enduring this setting for your photo session. Adrienne will get the proofs to you next week and I’ll print up whatever you want.”
“My pleasure, Nate.”
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
