Nude – Camera Obscura

Nude in the XXI century, by Paolo Romani

Paolo Romani — Wed, 16 Sep 2015 12:05:21 +0000

Text and photos by Paolo Romani.

The “punctum” irrationally attracts the viewer to a particular detail of the photo.

The photographer, aware of the rules that govern the relationship between the ‘”operator” and the “spectator”, desperately tries to find the “punctum”.

Roland Barthes in “La Camera Chiara” explains, investigating the difference between the real world and its photographic representation.

Following these opening words, I will tell you a curious and fun story that saw me involved shooting a female nude. I carefully planned everything, and met the manager of the agency to select the right model. When the day came I was very disappointed because I discovered that a very important detail was missing.

The model was completely waxed, without any pubic hair!

I very abruptly ended the session. The agency director called me asking for explanations; Despite having paid, I apologized, my poor planning had unforeseen consequences. Given the style of my images and their erotic nature pubic hair was essential.

The Director laughed raucously, today they are all like that!! if you want a model with fur you must put your order in several months ahead…. And blah blah …. AHHAAHAHH !!!

We finally agreed to ask another model to prepare for a nude photo shoot three months later.

My “absurd” request circulated among photographers and models; there was a “crazy” photographer with who knows what kind of perversion… he wants a model with pubic hair.

A photographer friend of mine laughing told me all the rumors about me, and every story ended with a big laugh. A year passed since that episode, when the international press talks of a New York store that sells lingerie, on the occasion of Valentine’s Day has set up shop windows with mannequins wearing panties from which comes out a thick black pubic hair.

That pubic hair was a great idea!

Even Gustave Courbet caused a scandal in 1886 when he painted “The Origin of the World”, not for display of female genitalia, but because he represented a forest of black pubic hair in hyperrealist style. At that time it was considered pornography to talk about it or represent it. The pubic hair war continued… between Bob Guccione and Hugh Hefner. Guccione’s Penthouse magazine, promoting lush pubic hair vastly outsold Playboy.

I was eventually able to complete the photo shoot exactly as I wanted, and as we were wrapping up and the model started asking some questions, I told her about life in Italy after the war.

At that time we used to go to the beach with wool swimsuits, which were fine until you went swimming and got them wet… they would then stretch and droop, and big “mustaches” would show through. People didn’t use creams and perfumes, everybody smelled wild, and all that horniness helped repopulate the country!!

Now a nice shaved, perfumed, elegant, pussy, no longer has anything human or exciting–just like an over-perfumed lady sitting next to you at the restaurant will rob the taste away from the best pasta all ‘amatriciana.

Like all good stories, there is a moral here: “we were born to suffer and we succeded, so what are we complaining about?”

Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev

Sergey Yeliseyev — Sun, 16 Mar 2014 19:03:28 +0000

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Little fifteen”. Silver print colorized with Acrylic 40x30cm. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. March 2003.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

Text and photos by Sergey Yeliseyev.

As a fact almost every artist-photographer time to time working with naked model and I am no exception.

I began to seriously pursue the photo in 2000, when, after the father’s death, I found his analog camera Zenith EM.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Dance” Self portrait with nurse”. Gelatin silver print colorized with Aniline 60x50cm. My own studio, Saint-Petersburg, Russia. July 2013.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

I took pictures of everything in the beginning as done all photographers. I took pictures of the architecture of St. Petersburg, people on the street, birds and dogs on the street.

In a year it has bothered me and I started doing my own projects.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Red summer”. Gelatin silver print colorized with Acrylic 40x30cm March 2003 Studio in House of Artists. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. March 2003.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

I rented a small studio and began to take pictures of nude girls.

I found models in the street, in the subway, on an Vernissage in galleries or museums.

If somebody attracted my attention, I come to her and asked if she wanted to be a model. Some of them immediately asked me:- “Naked?”

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Girl in Red Boots before the Isaac Cathedral”. Gelatin silver print colorized with Acrylic 40x30cm. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. May 2005.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

The first time I took pictures of young girls, aged 15th to 20-25 years.

In 2002, I began photographing fashion and asked models after Fashion show, if they want to be photographed naked or in underwear as done it Helmut Newton.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Butterfly”. Gelatin silver print colorized with Acrylic 40x30cm Taxi station. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. August 2005.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

I used black and white film. I developed the films by myself and made gelatin silver prints by myself as well in my Darkroom (as I do it till now). I have colorized mat black and white prints partly with acrylic in my studio.

In 2003 I came to the conclusion that I should be engaged in my own projects, because I had good ideas and imagination (as I wrote the music and lyrics for the songs playing in the Rock-Band in the past). And I began to invite my former acquaintances models for the new projects.

Photo session was held in the museums, on the square, in abandoned taxi stations in open air, in village,and even in the studio of outstanding Soviet sculptor Michael Anikushin.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Symbol”. Gelatin silver print colorized with Acrylic 40x30cm. Country side, Saint-Petersburg, Russia. August 2005.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

All the previous works were created by me from 2003 till 2007.

Every artist is constantly looking for the new forms of creativity to realize his ideas. And when he feels that long time he does the same and nothing new, it comes a Depression and Stagnation.

He dropped his hands, and he did not do anything for a long time.

And time has come to think about the work done.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Musicians” Self portrait with 20-y.o. prostitute by name Nastja”. Gelatin silver print colorized with Acrylic 30x30cm. My own studio. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. March 2012.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

He thinks “where to go” and in what way.

What new forms to apply.

What techniques to use.

Sometimes in a dream come new ideas as a result of hard and constant brain’s activity.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Chains - Self portrait with nurse”. Gelatin silver print 60x50cm My own studio. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. July 2013.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

Sometimes it happens by accident (as it may seem at first sight).

But there is nothing accidental in creativity does not happen.

Master’s Brain constantly fueled from outside – during a walking around the city, meeting with friends and colleagues, visiting restaurant, party, travel to different countries, information from the Internet.

As a result, there comes a moment when the artist finds a new direction in creativity for himself and he begins to create new work with inspiration and high energy.

And finally I invited a young prostitute to my studio in spring 2013.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Gas mask test” Self portrait in gas mask with nurse”. Gelatin silver print 60x50cm My own studio. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. July 2013.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

My series “Self portrait with prostitutes” has begun in particular from this photo session.

One composition replaced by another, and suddenly I do not know why, I asked her if I could stand beside her and make a joint portrait. She gave me positive answer.

Practically all models who agreed to be photographed naked were not against shooting with me in a pair.

Usually, before the photo session, I’m writing a script – what composition should I create, what objects have I to use during the session, whether to use underwear, whether to use a mirrors or something else.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Kosi and Zabivai” Self portrait with 50 y.o. prostitute”. Gelatin silver print colorized with Aniline 60x50cm My own studio. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. July 2013.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

Often the scenario is changing during a photo session and some compositions are born directly in the process of shooting.

For example a model saw a flag in my studio and started to play with it.

Or the model had a good mood and started to dance in the pause between the compositions.

Next time a model was tired and started to walk in my studio. Suddenly she stopped at a table with a chessboard and became rearrange figures in meditation.

This is almost the same as improvisation in jazz. And it’s very familiar and close to me, as I was a rock musician in the past.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Chess - Self portrait with nurse”. Gelatin silver print 60x50cm My own studio. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. July 2013.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

My studio is like a museum. Time has stopped in my studio. Everything in it reminds the Soviet Union time. There are many things in it such as metallic bed, brick oven for cooking and heating in rooms, old semi-ruined toilet, rusty sink, antique three-leaved mirror, a large number of mirrors of different shapes and sizes, vintage floor lamp, a samovar, cast iron, old ventilator, gas masks, wooden abacus etc. I also have a collection of women’s clothes and underwear of the Soviet period, shawls and scarves, corsets and glasses, shoes, masks and different accessories for women. And I also use it in my work.

I am also in good physical shape, as I training in swimming and karate all my life.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Me Lying on the floor under the standing model”” Self portrait with nurse”. Gelatin silver print colorized with Aniline 60x50cm My own studio. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. July 2013.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

And it also helps me during photo session when I create self-portrait with a prostitute.

The age of the models was different – from 20 to 50 y.o.

I am planning to expand the age range of the models up and down in the future.

Since the summer of 2013 I began to colorizing my black-and-white prints format 60x50cm with aniline dye, as did our forefathers 100 years ago.

Thus I inspire renewed interest to the tradition of the classic photography.

© Sergey Yeliseyev
“Castle” Self portrait with 50 y.o. prostitute”. Gelatin silver print colorized with Aniline 60x50cm My own studio. Saint-Petersburg. Russia. July 2013.
Please visit Self-Portrait with prostitutes, by Sergey Yeliseyev for the full size image.

The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell

Eamonn Farrell — Wed, 18 Jul 2012 05:07:38 +0000

State Support. Ulorin Vex in Dublin City.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

Text and photos by Eamonn Farrell.

My first real interest in photography as opposed to taking photos of my children, came about as a result of the coverage of the Vietnam War by the likes of Don McCullin, Larry Burrows and Eddie Adams etc. In the first instance it was both admiration and disbelieve that men and women could put themselves at such risk to life and limb in pursuance of an image.

Energising. Iveta T in County Waterford.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

And secondly, the shocking power of the images of death, destruction, fear, bravery, cowardice and cruelty, that they managed to capture in situations where putting your head up to take a photo, was akin to suicide. The impact of those images and their effect in changing public opinion about the war, convinced me that the still image could be a powerful force in changing the world. And in Ireland a lot of change was required particularly in relation to the position of women in society.

Harvest. Ulorin Vex in County Offaly.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

I went on to become a freelance photojournalist in Dublin, setting up a small agency with my brother Brian, also a photographer and eventually both of us became picture editors of separate Sunday newspapers. A few years later I left to set up a new agency photocall Ireland concentrating on coverage of politics, business and the arts. During this time the realities of trying to make a living from professional photography and providing for your family left no time to pursue your own personal photographic interests.

Shelter. Ulorin Vex in County Donegal.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

Like other developed countries, control of photographic images by the spin doctors of politics and business, had moved onto the same level as the music and celebrity industry. The opportunity to capture meaningful and insightful images was fast disappearing. Control of the media by the creative filtering of what was made available to it, was the modus operandi of a new and growing profession – the PR Guru. The enjoyment and excitement of working in the news media was fast disappearing for me. Thankfully I was now reaching a stage in my life where there were less demands on me financially and I could at last take time out to work on personal projects which were not dependent on a financial return.

Wonderland. Roswell Ivory in County Wicklow.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

In 2009 I started a project, which has the working title, The Nude in the Irish Landscape. I am using the female form to represent the human species and how we relate to our natural and man made environment. By placing the naked model outdoors in the landscape I am drawing attention to how vulnerable we are as a species, when stripped of our clothing, mobile phones and iPads. Alone and naked we have to deal with the powerfull forces of nature, increasingly transmuted as a result of our greed and power hungry rape and abuse of the beautiful planet on which we live. I am trying to get across the simple message – without a healthy planet earth we will die. But without us it would happily live on, perhaps forever.

Birth. Ulorin Vex in County Donegal.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

Great idea, maybe! But where was I to get models who were prepared to pose naked outdoors in cold, wet and windy Ireland? Most photographers know women – girlfriends, wives or partners – who are prepared to pose for them indoors. Outdoors is another matter entirely. Yes there are art nude models in Ireland. But very few at the level required to shoot in up to five locations a day. Confident enough not to be distracted when interrupted by humans or animals (hill-walkers, farmers, dogs, cows, donkeys etc). Capable of gritting their teeth (but not showing it), when working in wind and rain. And happy to put up with cuts, bruises, scrapes and bites.

Natural Resource. Monika T in County Wicklow.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

With a few notable exceptions I had to go abroad and use models from England, Europe and America. And make heavy use of alternative model sites such as Model Mayhem. In the process I met some wonderful women, dedicated to their art and prepared to push their bodies to the limit to produce an image worthy of their input.

Lands End. Raphaella McNamara in County Kerry.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

I was very lucky that the first two models I worked with were at the very top of their profession and set the standard for others to follow. I shot Ulorin Vex over three days in County Donegal when we were blessed with the usual Irish summer weather: four seasons in one hour! At least it gave us a bit of everything to work with. Ulorin is not only a top class model with the ability to change her look at will, but she is also brave to the point of endangerment.

Never Never Land. Ella Rose in a Ghost Estate in County Leitrim.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

I worked with Ivory Flame in November of 2009 for two days. It was wet, windy and freezing cold. There was no four seasons in one hour. Just two days of hard winter weather. Her beautiful white skin was turning blue. I thought her nose was going to fall off. But she continued to pose in the most difficult conditions, producing great images.

Dispossessed. Ella Rose in Dublin City.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

When it was all over she told me she would never work in Ireland outdoors again. Two years later I convinced her to come back during the summer, telling her that we would get blue skies on the Aran Islands. I lied and it rained and rained. Ireland is a wet and windy land. Will she ever come back again. I don’t know, but feel free to ask her.

Bog Cotton Rising. Juchi in County Offaly.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

There were of course issues, some technical, some aesthetic. You spend days searching for suitable locations and find one that works with great mood and skies etc. You book the model and she arrives (usually for two days at a time), drive to the location and there is no sky, just a dull grey flat ceiling. What do you do? Likewise, when after hours of shooting, the model has hit the perfect pose, but at the same moment a cloud has cast a dark shadow over a critical aspect of the landscape. The model pleads for the shot showing her perfect pose, but you know you have to go with the less perfect one which shows the landscape to better effect. In the end it was always a compromise, understanding that it was never less than a union between model, landscape and photographer.

Awakening. Ivory Flame in County Kildare.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

As time passed and I entered year three of the project I became more conscious of the fact that I should incorporate some sense of the economic and social devastation wrought on the people of Ireland by the reckless and greedy behaviour of a cabal of bankers, developers and politicians. This entailed the use of models in built up urban areas, which presented more difficult problems than those encountered in a rural landscape. When you add into the mix the conservative view which many in Ireland still have regarding the exposure of the naked body, it put extra demands on the professionalism of the art nude models with whom I worked.

Wasted. Mika Meiri in County Mayo.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

Finally there is the issue of the genre of art nude within the framework of art photography in Ireland. There are several fine art nude photographers here. To a large extent we work on the fringes of the art world. Silent, unobtrusive, unseen. This despite the exalted position of such photographers as Man Ray, Helmut Newton, Edward Weston, Andre Kertesz, Manuel Alveraz Bravo and Lucien Clergue on the international stage. The time has come for art nude photographers in Ireland to emerge from the woodwork and for curators to be brave enough to embrace the challenge of breaking a taboo.

For more informations and photos of nudes in the Irish landscape, please visit Eamonn Farrell website.

Survival. Monika T in County Wicklow.
© Eamonn Farrell
Please visit The Nude in the Irish Landscape, by Eamonn Farrell for the full size image.

Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela

Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela — Wed, 09 May 2012 09:52:39 +0000

Retreaded
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

Text and photos by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela.

First I will describe how Ecology began (which was roughly in November 2010). For a while previous, I had wanted to bring environmental topics into my work, but did not know how to do so without feeling like I was forcing some undesirably didactic quality into my images. Instead, I waited until it felt right and instinctive. It began roughly at the time when I shot Free range (below). I was compelled to shoot in the atmospheric winter Kent landscape, along with a bin and some rubbish I’d brought along to anchor the desolate feel of an outdoor nude. Unusually, I also chose to openly display the brand name of the supermarket bag. Posing for my own picture, and not being able to see exactly what the pose looked like till afterwards, I was fascinated by the distortion of one of the shots in-camera. The strange hole in the curve of my neck and shoulder made the top of my body reminiscent of a hollow carcass. The final image I presented, along with the title I gave it, started to suggest a new, more topical level of dialogue than the fantasy realm evoked by a lot of my work up to then. The work to follow varied in tone, but overall it set the precedent for a new angle.

Free range
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

In continuing to act upon this new environmental inspiration, I listed some problematic aspects of our modern existence. For example, our overuse of plastic and packaging in general, imminent oil and water depletion, the littering of the landscape both on a personal and mass-industrial scale, the reliance of man on medicine and our drug-reliant medical system (the latter which has become my focal/‘favourite’ topic that I am always craving opportunities to express). Pictures like Midway by Chris Jordan spelled out the starkness of contamination of the planet and inspired me to want to present this kind of juxtaposition in my own portrait/nude tableaux.

I went on to casually gather unlikely props and materials, centred around waste, plastic, domestic objects and banal functional items. Some props were brought from home, such as rubbish, cling film or items of clothing. Some props I bought with purpose, such as an inflatable fish; others I found more haphazardly on my wanderings, such as traffic cones, decaying boats, an old broken television set. Gyre falls, below, was a pivotal image in my early days on this series where I started to see how nudity and waste could co-exist with an otherwise beautiful or graceful pose.

Gyre falls
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

It was a tricky early-morning shoot that I felt clumsy doing, but the plastic took on a silvery, water-like appearance and in its symbolism, literally moved along the current of the series’ direction. This picture became a personal ‘benchmark’ to look back on at times when I became doubtful that nudity combined with waste was not an overly ambitious coalition. The contrapuntal placement of fashion models amongst flies and pig heads in the images of my longstanding inspiration Guy Bourdin has inspired me to believe that sensuality or beauty can sit alongside bizarreness and surrealism.

Because of the nature of shooting nudes outdoors, a lot of images have come to be shot with varying levels of collaboration from my partner Matthew. Heatstroke is one of our favourites: one of the most ‘collaborative’. I had posed nude in the cool damp ferns wearing all but a faux-fur coat; and later Matthew had shot long exposures of the car taillights through the mist. The moment in post-production happened when I was literally about to close down the set of images and conclude I hadn’t anything fruitful (at least, the ‘thing’ that I was looking for at the time evaded me).

Heatstroke
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

Suddenly, joining the long exposure with the picture of me posing, a forest catastrophe was born: a strange darkening scene that spelled the end… where humanity sits on ravaged land holding onto its last lavish possession. As for most of my images, I thought long and hard about the title: it had to encompass the ambiguity of the strip of ‘fire’, whilst also inferring something more personal or even sensual in the way the woman poses, stripped of everything but the fur, which has in turn been symbolically ‘stripped’ from an animal. The title comes to acknowledge the ephemeral and yet essential quality of natural human desire, whilst at the same time envisioning the synthetic chemical heat sent through the heart of nature by the activities of humankind.

iv/tv
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

IV-TV moves onto referencing technology, in a forest scene where the posing figure is foetal, as if being birthed from the smoking, toxic waste of the empty television set, or escaping from it. At the time of making this image I was also aware of a symbolic reference to our rituals of childbirth and the tethering of woman to machine in the standard Western approach. The picture and title became suggestive of many threads of thought that come from the binding of humanity with technology. In The divorce, below, I was also inferring a link to medicine although this is on a more connotative level. There is a ‘disconnection’ between mind and body, but it is subtly noticed, just as it is overlooked or unacknowledged by so many of us that live by the particular (symptom-led, rather than cause-led) health system Western medicine dictates as normal.

The divorce
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

An important aspect in my series is in welcoming ambiguity. There is not a definitive ‘it’ intended for everyone to ‘get’. The topical issues that inspire me are heartfelt and serious, but rather than submitting to some singular message that suggests how we should live, I started with a sense of futility of ‘doing anything’; the message was more about brooding, about inwardly reflecting, taking as much righteous ‘message’ from the image as you wish, in the manner of a private religion. Later however, I began to write words with my images to actively spur people into thinking about undesirable topics. Paltry, below, is an example of an image where I was inclined to comment on our tendency as a human race to ‘bury our heads in the sand’, and the body become a meat chop, a slab or a commodified object, rather than a living respiring instrument.

Paltry
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

Throughout this series, I’ve experienced a desire to inject a little bit more preparation into my normal spontaneous approach, but still letting the ingredients come together organically whilst shooting (especially if I’m shooting myself, and can’t see and frame myself like I can with another model). In musing over ideas, I started trying to do some sketches, but found that I prefer to write down words. The selection and editing will then be another part of the journey and discovery. The titles I add to the images are a helpful way of both directing the viewer towards the meaning(s) I have in mind, but also remaining aloof (to acknowledge there is always more than one meaning) often with something mystical sounding, or words that could be a pun. Sometimes the idea for the title comes before the making of the image, as with While stocks last.

While stocks last
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

Moored
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

Above is Moored, shot in Dungeness, an inherently dystopian town on the coast of Kent. This is one of the few of the series so far that uses colour dramatically and vibrantly, but by way of juxtaposition with the morbid element. Otherwise, quite a few of my images in Ecology have become black and white pieces. There is something quieter and yet sometimes more powerful about black and white. There is something that often really suits the nude in the landscape, to be devoid of colour. I am clearly not alone in this thinking, as I am just one of many artists who have fallen into lust with the synergy between nude and monochrome. Somehow, by taking away the colour of a nude in nature, the connection to the banality of reality becomes severed. The image will sometimes remind me of analogue photography, as in Caesura and Denuded.

Caesura
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

Denuded
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

I have fond memories of shooting Denuded. Matthew and I had wandered Ashdown Forest and I was looking for a suitable fallen tree. We came across one that was half buried in the shrubbery and looked like an elephant’s trunk. I toppled backwards naked in the misty cool air, whilst we looked both ways for any hikers. It was as if time had stopped around us whilst we got the pictures done. It was Matthew who first suggested converting to black and white, and when I did so, I was compelled to keep it like that. The drama of the scene looked equally good in colour as in black and white: it is probably the only image yet that I display both in colour and in monochrome. Although the monochrome lacks the detail of the green moss and fern texture, the nude shape sits delicately, yet clearly outlined, like a faceless shored fish propped in a sea of leaves.

It is finished
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

I use whatever I can find in the outdoor location to help make contrasts, concepts and shapes. It is finished, above, was shot with direct light from the sun that burst through the clouds for all but a moment (with help from Matthew, who concentrated on timing the light for the shots whilst I worked on pose). There is a palpable Biblical inspiration in the image and the title, as in the image below also, which was shot with another model in an apocalyptic-looking orchard. I like the idea of a curious dichotomy where Eden meets Gethsemane; the line is blurred between Eve and Jesus on the cross… the utopia of Genesis joins the dystopia of the book of Revelations.

Stay awake and watch
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

Many of my images take on an organic surreal evolution post-shooting. My current favourite piece in Ecology would have to be The Fourth Soil, shot only this year (January 2012). It also takes on a Biblical allusion in the title, which references a parable. I posed for Matthew to shoot me standing at a distance amongst the trees with a 85mm f1.2 lens we were using for the first time. I was inspired to create black and white images but did not plan for surrealism. I never usually plan for surrealism, actually, because it has to feel ‘right’ to me, in front of my eyes, there has to be a magic that just arrives at the point of execution.

The Fourth Soil
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

I was moving the figures around the forest scene afterwards on the computer and saw a synergy between the truncated thighs and the saplings. It was exciting to see, in particular, the way the trees ‘clicked’ with the bodies for the first, third and fourth figures. The other two were added to complete the line, and the composition took shape. The frame was left wide to keep in all of the texture and detail of the mystical forest scene, dwarfing the figures with its vastness. It was a picture quite like no other in my portfolio, and those moments I love as much as when I create images that ‘fit in.’ Another important aspect of a black and white image, for me, is that the image often becomes ‘illustrative’-looking. Whilst some of my favourite colour pieces may be reminiscent of (and inspired by) paintings, my black-and-white images are instead often like drawings. I find it reminiscent of illustrations in books from my childhood, particular in this case the illustrations I remember in books by C.S. Lewis. Even in the shots before the surreal stages, there was a quality to the scene that I loved for its intriguingly charcoal-like appearance.

Parasite, below, was forged from the same fire as The Fourth Soil, in that the shots were from the same shoot and place, a shot of the forest by itself, and one of me crouching in a field. As I transformed and toyed with the body, I liked the interesting resemblance it had to the anatomy of a flea when rotated stomach-down. It called to mind the interesting notion of ‘the human parasite’, and when I shared it online, I invited viewers to write their comments that I would select and add around the ‘flea’, in the manner of an anatomical chart.

Parasite
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

In some images I feel that the nudity beckons a more sexual dialogue than others. The dialogue can be seen to nudge away from the environmental, back to the personal, but in another respect, the sexual and environmental can be taken together as a combined theme. I felt this way when I made The invasion (below). Alongside this image, instead of writing something to direct the viewer’s interpretation, I listed an outflow of suggested readings:

“an optical illusion; the opening of an ants’ nest; a solar system of encroaching planets; a cluster of spacecraft; a rash of infection; a synthetic/disrupted sexuality, attacking the body; a self-destruction that has been planted within; a dystopian Nyotaimori (‘body sushi’); a surreal form of censorship.”

In doing so, I allowed my imagination to explore how the genitalia of the figure literally becomes the landscape on which a dystopian narrative takes place.

The invasion
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

To conclude, the Ecology series has involved ‘stripping’ down, that is: myself as the model, literally in frequent nudes; the colour of the image, often down to the tones of monochrome or sometimes just with low-key lighting. And also, focusing more on the simple mood and atmosphere of the shot, often keeping a shot as a simpler nude ‘study’ or appending surreal layers that come about naturally like the layers of an onion. In the process, it has built another direction: new ways to show my ever-present inspirations (from Bourdin to the Bible), new ways in which I interact with my audience, and a new conceptual dialogue and approach to what I write with the images. Corkscrew, below, is the most recent image I created to date as part of this series. Monochrome was a natural choice for the muted tones of the pavement on which it was shot, and the surrealism was a wild lovechild of (half-reluctant) curiosity, and intentional desire to inject a distorted eroticism into a series that so far has been toying with the boundaries between personal and environmental. It suggests an evolution of Ecology, or perhaps the dawning of a new series.

Corkscrew
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

My aim within the next year is to round up the most cohesive set of images from Ecology for exhibition and also for a dedicated hardback book. Still, I will continue on to see where Ecology takes me.

This is the third and last article of a series of three essays by Natalie Dybisz:

For more informations and photos, please visit Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela website.

Moult
© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

Undoing the Illusion: a series of three essays, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela

Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela — Wed, 18 Apr 2012 19:04:15 +0000

© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Undoing the Illusion: a series of three essays, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

Text and photos by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela.

The three essays to come were each written with a different motive, and they are all quite diverse stories. Collectively, their theme is to strip back the veils from my composited and often surrealist tableaux that are characteristic to my main body of work as a photographer and artist. In doing so they also serve to highlight the ultimate pleasures I continue to experience in creating intricately contrived work, the height of which is in one of my current working series that combines fashion and art in eclectic, collage-like scenes.

In a sense, these essays document the ‘hangovers’ from the rich visual party of my louder work. For in between all of the final images in a portfolio of highly ‘constructed’ images are many dissatisfied unfinished pieces, and for whatever reason they are unfinished, at least some can serve to reveal a self-imposed pressure from its creator to produce a ‘series’ or keep to a ‘style’, or simply to meet one’s own expectations set by previous shooting experiences. It is at these times that I value being able to fall back onto ‘negative space’ literally, to re-sensitise myself.

Of course, all photography and indeed all art is contrived, so in undoing one illusion, we peel back a layer to reveal more illusions. This is about recounting different experiences in making a decision between methods of making one illusion and another, all ultimately about feeling – about trying to feel again something that may have been lost through an overdone routine. I will give only a glimpse here into the essays’ content:

Essay one: falling back down to earth

© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Undoing the Illusion: a series of three essays, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

If I had to point to one image that defines the amount of success in photography I have had thus far, it would probably have to be my image The Smothering which comes to define the topic of my first essay. The essay looks across a series of work of mine, and a technique that characterises it, that of ‘levitation’ photography. It explores how, from my personal angle, creating this kind of imagery challenged, excited, but also eventually complicated my approach to artmaking. The essay develops the idea of the photographer having a ‘diet’ and a taste that can be overpowered by certain forays into techniques. The essay is a story, but a story that happens over a year or two, given meaning by looking in retrospect over that time.

Read Falling back down to earth: recovering from “levitation”, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela.

Essay two: model behaviour

© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Undoing the Illusion: a series of three essays, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

The second essay is about one single shoot. Contrasted to the first essay, which was written long and hard over a few days, this was whimsically penned (or rather, typed) immediately following the shoot it describes, literally soaking up the sensory experience before the language drifted away from my mind. The shoot had a way of taking me by surprise and challenged my set approach. As humans we want simplicity, we like patterns and plans, but how refreshing it can be to go with the spirit of something outside of ourselves – especially when I am used to taking so many self-portraits. In this case, the subject is that spirit; a model redefines the purpose of the shoot.

Read Model behaviour: the story of Linda, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela.

Essay three: stripped

© Miss Aniela (Natalie Dybisz)
Please visit Undoing the Illusion: a series of three essays, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela for the full size image.

The third essay takes on select pieces from a recent series of mine that has, in essence, taken on the pleasures of candidness and minimalism, in favour of an adapted new language. However, the series is not strictly one way or another, and the series has highlighted to me the times when compositing for contrived effect, in either subtle or epic amounts, becomes necessary or desirable. The sense of ‘stripping back’ in this series is typified by use of black and white, nudity, and barren shorn landscapes which became a personal trend fitting to its intended ‘dystopian’ mood, slowing the tempo from my other work. Conceptual intent plays a bigger role than in my other work; it is a resting place for inner troubles felt about the world – a place for them to be expressed visually – even if the intent falls off track and gets lost in digressive beauty or strangeness along the way.

Read Stripped: a fallen body of work, by Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela.

For more informations and photos, please visit Natalie Dybisz aka Miss Aniela website.

Down with the time, by Adeline Mai

Adeline Mai — Fri, 03 Jun 2011 05:15:38 +0000

Text and photos by Adeline Mai.

Down with the time; it escapes from me, run away, flies. Down with the time that makes me impatient. Down with the time that makes me forget. Down with the time that takes people away.

Down with the time; my camera can fix what only lasts a second. Down with the time; I caught it; I look at my images, the phantoms that are there, those ghosts. Those moments do not exist in the present. That’s why I love photography.

Eight years old. A disposable camera in my hands: my first trips. “New York is great.” Eyes wide open; I need to remember everything. If only my eyes were a camera, an infinite memory. The buildings are so tall and I’m so tiny. I’m frustrated. I cannot capture the smell, the smell of rain, the smell of Chinatown, the vile smell of garbage lying around.

Fifteen years old. I watch my friends, with admiration, nostalgia. I photograph; I stop the passage of time. They inspire me. Young cherry blossom girls, carefree, they blossom, unaware of their potential of seduction. Later, my fashion spreads are a reflection of what I know: (Kristina) (Nathalie) I romance a reality, I dream, I guess.

Kristina does not speak French or English. She is seventeen. She looks at herself in the mirror; smiles, she loves the styling. It starts. She tries to understand what I cannot explain, Kristina suggests, she seduces naively. I told her that I spy, her look changes, I deliberately annoy her, I am a voyeur (is it a tautology to say that I am a photographer and voyeur?). Our role-play continues, I keep shooting, the click of the camera reassures her she is beautiful, everything is fine, and I expect the unexpected, without showing her my impatience, what I can’t run/direct, her radius of beauty tinged with eroticism. Yes! You’re beautiful, yes, you’re gorgeous. I encourage her, she continues, falls into the role, she has fun.

Nathalie is younger, she’s fifteen, her father brings her, the size of her legs, her face, how could one think she is still a child in that woman’s body? I work on her simplicity, purity, and this unexplainable animal thing. She suggests her body is not hers, but a tool she controls perfectly, gracefully. Nathalie trusts me, moves her body spontaneously, imagines a dance, she dances slowly… I do not reduce my models to props for my satisfaction. She is Nathalie. Nathalie is delicious, unaware of her beauty and captivatingly honest.

I grew up, and my photographs of women, “my women,” grew up as well. This time I spy Leona, she plays the role of one who doesn’t see me. A sulky manner, a shy act, gives her, a haughty appearance. We are in the beginning of the movie Blow Up. I see her in her garden, from afar. She is fully aware of her beauty, she is older, twenty.

Pause.

My life goes on, I always refer to my photographs as my diary. I cut my hair during a fit of insomnia: she s having a hard time, I take advantage of my drunk friends and have them strip naked in a forest, he threaten me to commit suicide, jumping out the window, I runaway to the Cevennes and find peace. I do not photograph the landscape. The landscape does not inspire me. People inspire me, and it is the exchange that offers me the person photographed that interests me. I do not like landscapes.

Despite their beauty, despite the sublime nature of the Cevennes, I don’t like landscapes. I try to imagine them as curves, the curves of a body, and learn to appreciate them, day by day. Reconciliation.

I love to wake up at his side, I idealize, then I work about the bed, sheets and male models. I slowly found my sleep, and dream of flying. My feelings seem real, my wakening is violent, muffled by the air in which I floated: unbearable. A slight drowning, smooth. A dream or a nightmare, an unknown feeling. Here is my underwater series.

Drowning is not smooth, death is not there yet, I imagine a deep coma or a state near coma called “outdated”. Death is no longer black.

She disappointed me, my “woman” ran away, then let herself go.

The woman in my photographs immersed herself in the darkness and found herself there. “Play with these lights, you’re lost, they’re guiding you ” and Lucyna suggests the inexplicable once again.

My Woman plays with men in this hotel where we shot all day. At 6pm the hotel’s press office tells us that we have no right to shoot a naked woman in this hotel. Too late. The pictures are on my film and I will keep them.

She becomes seductive again, dominant, invulnerable.

I make peace with couples, I admire my favorite pairs, my friends’ couples, my couples. The abandonment of the body has a different meaning, sleep well.

Falling asleep is falling sleeping alone; next to someone. It’s dreaming alone, next to someone. “It’s sad to fall asleep. It Separates people. Even when you’re sleeping together, you’re all alone. “(Breathless) They are stuck together they form one entity. They are one. I immortalize this entity that will not last, that will not exist in the future.

Actors.

They are sometimes shy, almost embarrassed. Being a photographer is to become a comedian, to entertain people, to put them at ease.

-Are you afraid of heights?

-No.

-Are you afraid of being cold?

-No.

Rheon Iwan, who plays a superhero (misfits), goes with me on the roof of the studio in London. An Atmosphere often quiet, reserved, I reduce the amount of people around us, privacy is more enjoyable in a portrait. The click of my camera reassures again, the actors leave fewer pieces of themselves to be absorbed by the film, and I still wait for the moment when I capture a precious look.

Please visit Adeline Mai website for more informations and photographs.

Notes on photographing Women, by George Pitts

George Pitts — Fri, 27 May 2011 21:17:00 +0000

Text and photos by George Pitts.

I’ve been a painter, writer, and photographer most of my life.

Painting has a grand tradition that taught me more than I expected, and like a minister presiding over a wedding, Painting wedded me to the subject matter, which is most identified with my practice as a photographer. Painting imposed the irrefutable fact of Woman upon my consciousness, and even when I abandoned painting the figure for over a decade, the spectre of Woman loomed large in her absence, and never let go of its hold on what I imagined Art could be, if only I would surrender to the inevitability of rendering women again within the depths of my creative concerns. Painting has a different history and relationship to the subject of Woman, than the younger and arguably more promiscuous tradition of Photography.

The torrid and ubiquitous excess of images of women parallels the rise of mechanistic reproduction which enabled the medium of Photography to proliferate everywhere, in a range from High to Low, refined and crude, plain and fancy, light and heavy, tragic and frivolous, obscene and respectable, earnest and ironic, nasty and nice. Painting with its richer, more complicated, and less transparent manner of rendering women into holy mothers, royal deities, aristocrats, matrons, working women, servants, and courtesans is paradoxically less suited to capturing Woman as she is in the breadth of her being.

A painter (with the radical exception of Picasso) tends to choose a particular characterization of a woman that is hardwired to that artist’s temperament, and often sticks with that characterization more or less for the rest of their life; whereas for a photographer, nothing is that simple, or as potentially sublime in its scope of representations.

A painter wouldn’t be called a “fashion painter,” merely because he or she is preoccupied with beauty, style, and gorgeous lighting. But in Photography, one is more likely to be consigned to a genre or worst, a category, due to one’s content or the specific visual effect or preoccupation of one’s work. It appears at times, that a photograph is more often appreciated for what is in it, than for what it is as an object.

Refined technique or compelling content notwithstanding, a photograph is expected to be a more modest experience, stripped of the legacy of cultural profundity attributed to its older wiser sister, Painting. Photography compensates for this systematic slight, with a crueler more strategically compulsive reason to exist: its propensity for popularity, its illusory capacity for realism, and the literalism of its iterations.

Within the confines of my aesthetic is a philosophical refusal to concede too much importance to Painting, because I want photography to carry as much baggage and primacy as it can within its fragile position. Nowadays, I feel that nothing comes close to the particular quality of necessity that is inherent in Photography.

As much as I love cinema, as an art form it doesn’t induce enough envy of its achievement that I’m led to believe that photography comes up short. But as with Painting, and with Cinema, increasingly I feel a photograph can carry a great deal of complexity, be it emotional, intellectual, aesthetic, technical, or ideally, all of the above all at once in a single work. But I’m not sure how photography or any art form does this; and for me, that is a delicious form of futility. As it demands that with each woman or subject that I photograph, there is implicit in the desire to take a picture, the promise ever anew of making something of resonance that sustains attention, or burns a hole in the retina, or groin, or the pit of the stomach, something wrenching, lovely, or impossibly subtle, coolly cerebral, and out of reach.

It is when the subject, the woman, poises herself into being that an occasion for communion, intoxication, and expansive sensual reverie can lead to mutual self-discovery.

While writing this piece, I watched a documentary on British icon David Bailey (the photographer that inspired the Antonioni film, “Blow-Up”). While walking around his comfortable studio, touching his sculptures of skeleton heads fitted with exaggerated additions such as 10 inch tongues, flowers, and other unlikely objects, Bailey pontificated in a relaxed dreamy manner about some of the strengths of Photography, saying: “Photography’s all about Death…it’s the same with pornography. Pornography works much better in photography than it does in painting or illustration, because you know it actually happened…”

If I were to paraphrase Bailey’s remarks, I’d replace the word “Eroticism” with his choice of words, “Pornography.” Eroticism to my mind, is less definite, and more equivocal, and it allows for more ambiguity, yes, but also from my visual purview, more possibility, because female behavior is less tied to a script of stereotypes, and can in fact be unmoored to sail, or rest, or indulge in torrid articulations of feeling, or not.

And yet the sheer authentic presence of a human figure, of a woman, can and should be enough, for an attentive artful tender perusal, with the desire that the woman take the lead in defining the scope of her comfort, and the physical language of her particular psyche. For me, as an artist, it’s better this way, following women into their particular idiosyncratic slide into acting out. It’s more fun and labor that way, and in having more technical and emotionally responsive work to do, things get lively, and obscure, and newly fresh, if not altogether better in terms of locating instances of specific individual beauty, as opposed to homogeneous socially conditioned articulations of beauty.

It’s not that the familiar, and the classic or profane repetition of sexual/sensual tropes is bad, but only that such images are already there embedded in the collective human archive of idealized, media-generated, configurations of desire. To unlearn how to make an enduring sexual representation requires more specific attention to the degrees of exposure that the model determines in her reticence, passion, and disinterest in being reduced to a product of sexual embodiment. If this quality of depiction were easy, there would be more individuals arguing for its importance, but the desire to perceive women variously, with complexity, and a relative lack of obsessive insistence, isn’t the central concern of the Internet or the print media, where the obvious thrives in the transparent recesses of male taste, or in the more retouched and discreet sphere of the women’s consumer market.

“Don’t want your bullshit, just want your sexuality,” intones Kate Bush on “The Song Of Solomon.” “Write me your poetry in motion,” she continues, “write it just for me, yeah.” A particularly intimate response is what Kate is asking for; and I think that can only occur if one can endeavor to see who is being photographed, as opposed to what one can get out of the subject.

In superimposing those endlessly recycled media and art history poses over a woman’s body, you can find yourself delivering the expected, or at best, the generic: as in the increasingly predictable magazine renderings of contemporary beauty, or in the alleged timeless nostalgic classic ever sentimental conception of beauty, that relies heavily on a black and white idiom, or on the coterie of culturally ordained standards of allure embodied in a physical type few women actually inhabit. What is one to do except, surrender and resist from within, embracing the excess of media representations as if they are temporarily true for our historical moment, while still reserving the privilege of thinking for one’s self, in order to land on some more fertile ground that is virgin in the excavation of truths emanating from the particular woman before one’s eyes? That could be one strategy: to succumb to the pressure to beautify and idealize; because it is important to learn how women enjoy seeing themselves in an image that reaches the public sector. Yet in our present era, we have witnessed the visual depiction of women by women, such as those by the peerless photographer, Diane Arbus, who chose realism over idealization, which raises questions of what does the female artist wish to see when photographing her own gender: prettiness, inner depth, imperfection?

Obviously it’s hard to say, and harder to know what a woman really wishes to relish when examining the representation of another woman. But the example of Arbus (and the legions of women artists that populate our era) directs us to the cracks in the female armor of glamorous representation, pointing to a yearning to remove the makeup, or to at least question the necessity of representing women in a strictly idealized manner. Painting experienced a similar crisis in the mid-19th century; when Courbet wiped the slate clean of centuries of glamorous posturing, to reveal corpulence, earthiness, robust intensity, and an aesthetically raw depiction of Woman, without the pretense of myth. Manet, Degas, Renoir, Cezanne, and others soon followed suit with their respective spins of realist perception.

Perhaps because we have the technology available to ‘correct’ our depictions of Women, photographers are expected to make women “look good,” in the cultural belief that that is what women want at all costs. However true this state of affairs may be, it begs the question of why? Is this our societal way of keeping women on pedestals, or is this the highest goal one could wish to accomplish in the depiction of women, to reinforce the illusion of perfect beauty?

Aside from matters of beauty, is a host of bothers, animal, comedic, intelligent, yearning, wholesome, daring, convulsive, lyrical, friendly, and gracious: qualities that complete and complicate the photograph.

It’s in the noticing, catching feelings that otherwise would go unrecorded, that pleasure becomes methodical and disciplined, because it takes attention to see the molten flow and withholding of emotion and candor that informs the tension within so many good pictures of women.

“I’m the hand up Mona Lisa’s skirt,” Al Pacino suavely brags in the movie, “The Devil’s Advocate.” His conceit smacks of the tension I’m referring to, in this instance the invasion of a mute enigmatic culturally adored sphinx. Pacino is implying that he’s cracked the code of her aloofness, and has gained entrance into her body. I’m afraid that this conceit often carries over into the male artist’s desire to dominate their subjects, for the idea of “breaking” the object of visual desire has been rationalized as a cathartic remedy, the notion that one can penetrate the veil, find the darker access, that one can “break on through” to a more protean level of invention. I’m still not sure what such an attitude brings to picture making, but it’s now in the canon of glib-speak about “going further, taking it to the edge.” This is the literalism, and modernist hubris, that sees innovation only in stripping away the illusions of artifice or exposing the graphic sexuality that lies beneath civility, or in the bedrooms of virtually anyone on a passionate night; but I’m not sure that this “hardcore” approach is sufficiently rewarding or affectionate toward the full dimension of a woman, but it gives me something to resist, in pursuit of some other comparable representation that will suffice.

Please visit George Pitts web site for more informations and nude photos.

Exhibitions, by Alexadru Paul

Alexadru Paul — Fri, 20 May 2011 07:34:07 +0000

Text and photos by Alexandru Paul.

In 2003 I was tangled in thoughts concerning whether or not it was useless to take photos of whatever came my way as I had used to do. The feelings generated by an event and the act of photographing it, didn’t end up in my pictures. Or if something did end up, it was something else. The rectangle of the viewfinder had started to bother me. To limit my contact with the world. And then, somehow, photography moved from outside inside. I wasn’t looking for photographic subjects anymore, but for ideas that challenge photography.

It’s been a long time since I haven’t had a camera on me. And even if I push myself to take it with me, I soon forget about having it on me.

I started working at the Exhibitions project.

Some time after I graduated, I was trying to find myself a place as a fashion and advertising photographer. It seemed very stupid to me, at the time, the way myself and others were trying to fabricate a biography called CV – which only required mentions of success. Even the personal failures were featured as accomplishments. For example, if you ditched school after one year, you wrote that you studied for one year, not that you had been kicked out after the first year. The competition never cared about our weaknesses and failures. Our society doesn’t want to acknowledge our malfunctions and frailties. And if it does find out, we will be penalized. So we’re trapped making up this story, according to which you are to be cast in your rightful position by some headhunters. And since my CV never looked too good, I started wishing I would become a headhunter myself.

“…

Regardless of the length o life,
a resume is best kept short.

Concise, well chosen facts are de rigueur.
Landscapes are replaced by addresses,
shaky memories give way to unshakable dates.

Of all your loves, mention only the marriage;
of all your children, only those who were born.

Who knows you matters more than whom you know.
Trips, only if taken abroad.
Memberships in what, but without why.
Honors, but not how they were earned.

Write as if you’d never talked to yourself
and always kept yourself at arm’s length.

Pass over in silence your dogs, cats, birds,
dusty keepsakes, friends, and dreams.

Price, not worth,
and title, not what’s inside.
His shoe size, not where he’s off to,
that one you pass off as yourself.
In addition, a photograph with one ear showing.
What matters is its shape, not what it hears.
What is there to hear, anyway?
The clatter of paper shredders.”

Wistawa Szymborska – writing a resume

I asked several people to take a nude picture of themselves, keeping in mind that it will be publicly exposed. I set up a camera and a mirror near by that was positioned to show whatever the camera was seeing and a remote releaser. I asked them to look at themselves in the mirror until they were satisfied and then to release. It was as if they were making themselves a different kind of CV.

It was also a curiosity about the way people relate to their bodies. If they know it, if they use it for its capacities or just to show off.

I had planned from the beginning the way I wanted this to look in the end, like a big folder you can walk through. I stuck with the plan and I was wrong. As time passed by, I realized that people who came to take a picture of themselves, had mostly personal reasons for doing so. I found out some of these reasons, but I didn’t care about them at the time. Maybe this was the most important aspect of this project.

What I remember though, is their approach. Some took it like a cold shower. They would go in, close the door and in three minutes they would be dressed up and out the door. Some took a lot of time. I don’t know what they were doing. Others would get undressed and talk to me, ask me my opinion about them and about the purpose of the project, or would ask for my advice. And they seemed to enjoy somehow the magic of the studio, the warmth and the light.

A girl who asked me not to exhibit her photo, still wished to take a picture of her. She did request though, because she didn’t trust me, to take a picture of myself first. Then she changed her mind and said she didn’t want to take the picture anymore. I made a scene and swayed her to do it, after all. But I didn’t exhibit it.

It was a boy who took the most of time. About an hour? He came out puzzled. He told me it was very difficult to realize what you wanted others to see in you. When I developed the film, I saw that he completely misunderstood the requirements and took the picture with his clothes on.

Communism and orthodoxy are very strict about nudity. The elder half of people in my country believes nudity is indecent and taught their children consequently. To take a nude picture of yourself, knowing it will be publicly exhibited, is an act of courage. And while you are brave, you need the support of those around you. You expose yourself and become more receptive to everything that happens around you. And maybe this is the reason why the short time I spent with these people was intense and the connection we made, durable in time.

While I was working at this project, my daughter Sasa was born and I started to achieve a certain success as a photographer. I abandoned the nude project. And then I resumed it when Dan Popescu, my gallerist – started to show interest about it. Another friend, who meanwhile got rich, offered to pay for the exhibition. As it was expensive, I wouldn’t have made it without a sponsor, and since I didn’t plan on selling anything, it seemed fair not to make it with my own money. The friend-sponsor failed to pay the money he promised, so in the end I paid for it myself.

The installation was exhibited for one month at H’art Gallery in Bucharest, and it remained for three years in their deposit. During the crisis, the gallery moved and the new location proved too small to accommodate this installation. So it was donated to the National Museum of Contemporary Arts.

Please visit Alexandru Paul for more informations and photographs.

Ripe, by Alexa Garbarino

Alexa Garbarino — Fri, 08 Apr 2011 05:24:03 +0000

Text and photography by Alexa Garbarino.

I used to see pregnant women as giant, cumbersome creatures — an image that was reinforced by the perpetual I Love Lucy reruns where a pregnant Lucille Ball ran around encased in mass quantities of fabric that passed as maternity clothes. My pregnant friend Nancy erased that perception when she posed nude for me in her living room, just days before giving birth to her son. This was pre-Demi Moore Vanity Fair cover and until Nancy, I had never seen a pregnant woman completely naked. I was stunned — not by Nancy’s girth, but by how strong and powerful and elegant she looked.

I was fascinated by her ripe body.

It would be another eight years before the idea of doing a series on pregnant nudes occurred to me. I was recently married, and because I was already in my late 30’s, my husband and I knew we should start trying to get pregnant right away. Coincidentally, a lot of my girl friends were having children at this time. As it seemed that my focus was all about pregnancy, I approached them with the idea for my series.

Because these first models were good friends, there was already a level of trust going into the shoot. I was able to forego the usual strategically placed fabric and even avoided what I now call “the hand dance”… one hand covering up here, the other hand covering the down there… Initially, I photographed the women in my studio and mostly in silhouette, but after a while, I felt that the portraits were becoming predictable and familiar. I wanted the portraits to speak to more than the fact that a woman was going to have a child.

It was when I photographed my friend in Miami that I went in a new direction with the project. Although Ann was not a professional model, she had posed for me often when we both lived and worked in LA. I knew she would be game for something out of the ordinary, and she didn’t disappoint. She and her husband, Christopher, posed together in their foliage-filled backyard — it resembled how I imagined the Garden of Eden would look. I could see that by being out of the studio and in a familiar environment, Ann could also step outside of herself.

After that shoot, there was no going back, I was determined to get the models in location that was significant to them. After a while, I had pretty much photographed all of my pregnant friends and began photographing friends of friends. While getting to know my new found models, I soon realized that every woman had a different reason for posing; many were inspired by Ms. Moore’s iconic shot, many knew it would be their last pregnancy, and many had struggled with infertility for years and wanted documentation of their hard won battle.

Ironically, I soon learned of my own issues with infertility. All of the infertility stories I had heard from the models took on a greater significance. I don’t know if it was because my instincts to “get the shot” just kicked in, or if I was secretly hoping that some pregnancy mojo might rub off on me, but I actively sought out pregnant women during that period, determined to include my own portrait in the series.

While a lot of the models were surprised at how heroic and gorgeous they looked in the photos, what I saw was their sheer joy in themselves. It was as if their pregnancy gave these women permission to have fun and be outlandish with their body. There was absolute freedom and innocence in their nakedness, and no judgment about their size or weight.

Aside from being exhilarating and often hilarious, the shoots in the public spaces were very quick. I usually had my location and framing determined before the day of the shoot. And because I used available light, we got there so early, we had to wait for the light to come up. Still, no matter how early it was, there was often someone around. That was especially true when shooting in New York City – someone was always around — club kids, early morning joggers, cyclists…

I think we actually foiled some would-be robbers at the shoot in Theatre Alley. Tiffany and her husband, Xavior, picked us up at our apartment that morning when it was still dark. Xavior made it clear that he was not at all happy that his wife was posing naked in 22 degree weather, but Tiffany was determined. It didn’t help matters that as soon as we all piled out of the car we saw two men up the street who were clearly trying to break into a back door. We all just froze for a few seconds and stared at each other before they took off running. I quickly set up my camera and tripod before Tiffany threw off her coat, and made sure she kept her shoes on after seeing 3 rats scurry across the alley.

Because her husband has proposed to her in a taxi, Tara chose a New York City cab as the location for her first pregnant portrait (she has posed twice more for subsequent pregnancies). It took a few of tries before I found a cab driver who not only owned his cab, but would meet us at 5:00 a.m. the next morning. I told him the nature of the project and he assured me that he would be respectful of the model and would not “peak” as he sat behind the wheel of his cab – it was against his religion to look at a naked woman who was not his wife.

I think Jess on the #6 Train was the most difficult shot, but one of the most fun. It was 4am on a Saturday at the 59th Street Station. When the train pulled up, the last car had only a man and a woman, sitting across from each other. Jess stood by the pole between them while I set up my camera. When I told Jess I was ready, she calmly turned to each of the passengers and said, “I hope you don’t mind, but we’re going to take a picture.” Then she threw her coat to her partner Chip. I frantically started shooting, barking out directions above the noise of the train. As soon as it pulled to a stop at 51st Street, the two passengers made a beeline for the door, both of them laughing, and the man said, “Only in New York.” The train doors shut and we had the car to ourselves. I shot one more roll of film. Jess had barely gotten her coat back on as we pulled into Grand Central Station.

Whenever a woman I was scheduled to photograph didn’t have a particular location where she wanted to pose, I immediately asked, “How about Times Square?” Everyone quickly nixed the idea, but happily, any location I mentioned after that seemed reasonable by comparison.

When it came time for my own portrait, Times Square was the place for me. In fact, I was thrilled to pose there because I was thrilled to be pregnant after three years of artificial insemination and in vitro fertilization. I had the pleasure of being poked by my husband (with a needle) three times a day for months on end, I got naked for every doctor who happened by, and I flung my feet into more stirrups than a rodeo star. So throwing off my coat on a chilly April dawn in the middle of Manhattan was a cinch, and seemed like a fitting end to a very long ride.

I’ve photographed over 100 women for this series and I’m still amazed at how every woman’s shape shifts differently. While those nine months may feel like they’re going to go on forever, pregnancy is fleeting – I can’t imagine not wanting to document it.

Please visit Alexa Garbarino for more great pregnancy photographs.

The Zen Garden, by Peter van Stralen

Peter van Stralen — Fri, 28 Jan 2011 09:08:44 +0000

Text and photographs by Peter van Stralen.

They say that the design of an English garden is only complete, if there are no more plants, bushes or trees that can be added to this garden. By contrast, a Zen garden is only finished, if there are no more plants, bushes or trees that can be left out of the design.

In this context, my photography can best be described as a Zen garden: I am a minimalist.

So how did I become a minimalist?

When I entered the Academy of Arts in Arnhem, The Netherlands, I was, quite understandably, rather insecure about my talents and my possibilities as a graphic designer. So, by way of compensation, I added a lot of comments, explanations and titles to my projects in order to make sure that my ideas would not be misunderstood. This attitude was even encouraged by our teachers who told us that the crucial element in any kind of design was: The Concept. Consequently, in this creative think tank, along with our ambitious young designs, an awful lot of theoretical hot air was produced as well. And yet, in the end this atmosphere of creativity turned out to be very beneficial to me, because it taught me to look at things from various new angles.

Finally however, I had seen enough of this somewhat arty-farty environment, so I left the Academy and went on to study photography in-depth at a Business School of Photography. This new training was quite the opposite of the Academy of Arts, because it was really practical and down to earth. In a way, it was complementary to my previous education: whereas the Academy had taught me to think, to experiment and to search for new forms and ideas, this second study helped me to become more realistic in my approach towards photography.

For several years afterwards I locked myself up in my darkroom and my studio and experimented with all sorts of chemicals, films, photographic paper, lenses, lighting and compositions. My subject invariably was some sort of still life that I had created out of the stuff that was lying around: a vase, broken glasses, a chair, a mannequin, some pencils, a hat, you name it.

My main mistake in those days was that I tried to tell stories with my photographs by squeezing an overdose of stuff/information into the image, thus blurring the final message.
In this period of seclusion I created the foundation of my staged photography, which was still somewhat crude and naïve, but promising nonetheless.

During those years I also organized workshops for a group of young amateur photographers, and at one point it seemed like a good idea to have them experiment with the subject of photographing motion and movements. Because of my former contacts with the Academy, I managed to arrange a photo session for them at the local Dance Academy.

This is where my life as a photographer took a decisive turn.

I was immediately struck by the way these dancers combined their strength with elegance, as out of their incredible physical control a wonderful atmosphere of grace and beauty emerged. Opposites attract: I do not consider myself to be graceful or elegant, and I definitely cannot dance.

In the months that followed I returned to their dance studios time and time again to photograph them in action, until I finally had the nerve to ask a couple of female dancers if they would be willing to pose for me in the nude.

-Why?

-I think I want to be a photographer-sculptor.

We took it from there.

Naturally I was rather tense during these first photo sessions, so in order to control this situation, I tried to make as many mental notes as possible in advance. I made sketches, wrote down photo sequences, in fact I made an entire script in order to avoid any glitches during the session itself. The results were quite predictable; they were all right, but they were still a far cry from what I was really looking for. So I started to use props to enliven the images: chairs, stools, different backgrounds, and so on.

Meanwhile, the girls were just terrific: they were very enthusiastic, supportive and positive about the images, which obviously was a great encouragement to me. It was great fun working with them and they were proud of the pictures that we made together.

As time went by, I gradually noticed that I made less and less sketches, mental notes and scripts for my photo sessions. My confidence had grown and -just like the dancers- I had gained some inner strength from which I could start to create. Getting rid of of my previous scripts and sketches gave me the opportunity to open up and to improvise, to react spontaneously to the things that were happening right there and then in my studio. And finally, I decided to skip my meticulous preparations altogether and take each session almost like a blank canvas.

Furthermore, all titles, descriptions or captions for my photographs were left out: all my photographs have only a serial number. In my field of photography, the best images are the ones that do not need a title, a description or an explanation. Interpretation should be left to the viewer.

To me photography has become an organic process: one image almost automatically evokes the next one. I do not believe in change for change’s sake, so trends and fashions mean nothing to me (I do not feel the need to be ‘hot’. Or cool, for that matter). On the contrary: just like a tree I shed my leaves from time to time. Then I have a winter break and start making new leaves again without any necessity of having to change.

In order to avoid these trendy or fashionable connotations, I started to strip my photographs of all kinds of details until I ended up with nothing but a plain black or white background.

Digging deeper and deeper into the subject, it became clear to me that the more I left out of an image, the stronger it became. Even the faces, however beautiful, were left out, since they only meant a distraction from the image. In the end, the result was pure form.

In the meantime, most of my models have become professional dancers and other professional dancers have followed in their footsteps to come and pose for me as well. My admiration for these young women is enormous: they are passionate about their work, they are disciplined, dedicated, and they are always open to new ideas, which makes them perfectly suitable for my own projects. Without them, it would have been absolutely impossible to create these images, so I owe them a great deal. In fact, I consider the photographs as our common creation because of the priceless input they have given to me during countless photo sessions.

Nowadays I start my photo sessions with only a vague, embryonic notion of what I plan to do and then I simply let things happen as they come. It is almost like jazz music or a jam session: From a basic theme, you start to look, listen and improvise. Without any notes, sketches or scripts in my hand, I reach out to my model and then we surrender to the music that we create together.

At one point one of them asked me:

– Do you think that photography is an art form?

– Is drawing an art form? I replied.

– Most of the time, it’s not, but yes, sometimes drawings can be an art form.

– Precisely.

– So how do you see the work that we are doing here?

– We are dancing. In a Zen garden.

Please visit Peter van Stralen for more minimalistic nude photography.

3D Anaglyph Images, by Max Potega

Max Potega — Mon, 27 Dec 2010 16:25:04 +0000

Text and photographs by Max Potega.

NOTE: To properly view the 3d images 3d glasses (cyan left / red right) are required.

My latest project is finally finished. The Devil’s In the Pixels: The Almost Touchable Naughtiness of MAX Potega is published. The book is a collection of 3D anaglyph images. It was a long arduous road. Model wrangling, location scouting, and book production, all difficult tasks, are all part of the fun.

Anaglyph stereoscopic photography has been around since the 1850s. I jumped on the bandwagon in the early 1990s, but did not start working in earnest with the medium until 2005. Detractors would say 3D is just a gimmick to help sell poorly executed photographs. I agree that some would definitely use it that way; a poor photograph will remain a poor photograph no matter how many effects are applied. However, if dimension is added to an already solid work, the art transforms into something even more stunning.

I have answered many questions at exhibitions for my book. The most common questions are what is it, how is it done, and why. The what and the how are quite simple. The why however, forces one to examine oneself and who likes to do that?

The what:

What is an anaglyph image? The basic theory behind the anaglyph image is that two slightly different images are combined to cause a 3D effect. One image is for the left eye, the other is for the right. The two views of the same subject are colored red and cyan. Although there are several different color combinations, red and cyan appear to be the most commonly used. Wearing special red and cyan glasses cause the brain to see each slightly different image separately. The brain perceives the differences as depth.

The How:

The first thing needed to create an anaglyph is a good subject. Although almost any subject will work, to get the best 3D effect a subject that contains overlapping components is suggested. As my subject matter is generally fetish models, I would arrange images with overlapping legs, arms, and other appropriate props. Overlapping has the strongest effect, but arranging focused elements in the background and in the foreground well also yield decent results.

Once the image is planned, a method of capturing the two slightly different angles of the image must be chosen. There are many different tools and methods to accomplish this. Fuji has just released a digital 3D camera and Loreo produced a 3D lens for Canon cameras. Without special equipment two identical cameras could be placed side by side, or one camera moved slightly for each shot would work.

I took all of the anaglyph images for this article and my book using a single Canon 20D, a tripod, and lots of patience. When using a single camera to collect the images the subject must to remain perfectly still. It is very difficult to keep the sensor in the same plane. To assist with this, use a tripod and mark the floor with tape along the intended path. The camera only needs to move two or three inches for the effect to work. Take one image, quickly drag the tripod along the tape and quickly capture the second image. Repeat this several times, just in case the model moved slightly.

The final step is to blend the images with a photo editing software. Photoshop is my tool of choice. As with anything in Photoshop there are many paths to the same destination. Here is the simple method I used.

Open the two images in Photoshop. Be sure the color space is RBG or sRBG. Perform all the necessary retouching before beginning the anaglyph process. The process makes images a little dark so brighten the image. The amount varies so experimentation is necessary. If the work is intended for print, increase the brightness even more. The audience will essentially be wearing sunglasses to view it.

Select the photo that has the subject closest to the left of the frame. Desaturate the image. Open levels. Select the red channel and change the output level value to zero. This is the cyan layer. Select the right image. Desaturate the image. Open levels. Select the blue channel and change the output level value to zero. Select the green channel and change the output level value to zero. Copy the cyan image and paste it as a layer on top of the red image. With the cyan layer selected reduce the opacity until you can see the red image beneath (about fifty or sixty percent). Align the two layers. Reset the cyan layer opacity to one hundred percent. With the cyan layer still selected change the layer blending method from normal to screen. Congratulations you have just made your first anaglyph. To properly view this image you will need 3D glasses with red left and cyan right.

Anaglyphs can be made in color by skipping the desaturate steps from the instructions above, but the anaglyph process skews the color, and any red or cyan items in the image adversely affect the 3D effect. A black and white anaglyph is cleaner. You may want to experiment with color images as I am partial to black and white “standard” photography as well.

The Why:

The why is the most difficult question. All the images for the book and this article were planned as 3d images. The driving force of their creation was to make an image that exhibits the most 3d quality without compromising photographic artistry. I produced the collection as a book because I felt that a collector would not hang an image that required wearing special glasses to view. The images were made for my own creative desire. The book format was strictly for marketing considerations.

My choice of subject matter was because of my love of the female form coupled with my and admiration of Helmut Newton, as well as my attraction to images that are edgy and a little dark. I am drawn to the beauty that is subtly, and in some case not so subtly, juxtaposed with something a “little off” – be it a prop, pose, or location. I provide a sketch, an opening sentence, and let the viewer fill in the details and meaning.

I hope this provides some insight to anaglyphs and to my work. Please check out the rest of my work for this project and please feel free to contact me with any questions.

Visit Max Potega for more nude and erotic 3D anaglyph photos.

Katie’s Jump, by Ian Leake

Ian Leake — Fri, 10 Dec 2010 05:48:36 +0000

Text and photographs ¹ by Ian Leake.

“Nude women are only Art if there’s an urn in it. Or a plinth. Both is best, o’course. It’s a secret sign, see, that they put in to say that it’s Art and okay to look at.”

Sergeant Fred Colon speaking to not-Corporal Nobby in Thud! by Terry Pratchet.

I don’t think I’ve ever made a photograph of an urn before – not that I can remember anyway. And I’m certain that I’ve never made a photograph of a nude with an urn. Neither have I made a nude with a cherub. Nor the modern equivalents – nude on a rock, nude under a waterfall and nude in a tumbled down shack. But then again I don’t want to: Ingres had said everything that needs to be said in this style by the time he died in 1867.

Of course Sergeant Colon is a bit behind the times. Anything goes in the contemporary scene. Explicit nudity, sexual violence, and death are all labelled as art. The internet is full of it. And apparently it’s all fine just so long as there’s a naked, and preferably pretty, young woman in the picture.

I simply don’t understand it. Why do these people need to spew out this ugliness? Do they hate women? Is there so much violence in the world that it’s twisted their sense of beauty? Or is it all about money? Whatever it is, these pictures leaves me cold.

I suppose I’m a bit old fashioned. I enjoy life. I find people fascinating. I find women beautiful. And I believe that life, people and women are worth celebrating.

That’s what drives my art-making.

When Fabiano asked me to contribute an article for Camera Obscura, he suggested I pick a photograph that’s important to me and tell its story. This is the story of Katie’s Jump.

Katie is a dancer. She’s about 5’5”, beautiful and, like all serious dancers, has an astonishing physique. She’s enthusiastic, hard working and has a wicked sense of humor. She’s a movie star too!

When I work with someone for the first time I deliberately set my expectations low. We try a few things, experiment, and generally mess around. This helps me to avoid pre-conceived ideas which I find are often a deathblow for creativity. It also helps to us both to understand each other and to discover what we’re going to make together.

It was no different when Katie turned up for the first time at my studio in London. We made some pictures, we drank some tea, and we chatted. What soon became clear was that although we were sure to make some fabulous posed pictures, she was someone who needed to make dynamic pictures which fizzed with her energy. This, I knew, would be a huge challenge, but a worthwhile one I hoped.

To understand why this was such a big deal it’s important to understand how I work in the studio. I use big, old-fashioned, wooden cameras (imagine a Victorian photographer with a blanket over his head and you won’t be far wrong). My favorite camera uses sheets of film 8”x10” in size, although I also use 4”x5” and 11”x14” film (that’s almost as big as A3).

When using these cameras I have to slow down, concentrate, and make sure that everything is set just right before tripping the shutter. Rush the job and I’ll lose the picture. It can sometimes take twenty minutes for me to make a single exposure.

Working slowly means that I have time to consider every aspect of the composition. Does this go with that? Should it be here or there? And how does it look as a whole. (It also requires great reserves of patience and stamina from my long suffering models, something I’m always grateful for.) This drives me towards making static, sculptural forms.

Trying to use these cameras to capture movement and energy is extremely difficult. But I had made some earlier motion work with another dancer (the fabulous Oksana) so I knew that it could be done, especially with a little bit of help from serendipity.

Over the next few weeks and months we made lots of exposures. Mostly we worked using the 8×10 camera, but we also made plenty with the 11×14 (and also some digital captures). As an aside, 11×14 film costs about £8 per sheet and I only have sufficient film holders to make 8 exposures in any session. This means that the pressure to ‘get the shot’ when working with the 11×14 is high. (I should also mention that my 11×14 is a do-it-yourself camera built from scraps of old cameras. It’s very heavy, wobbles all over the place, and if you stub your toe on it then your toe will break a long time before the camera will. It’s a joy to work with!)

We made Katie’s Jump quite early in the project and it’s definitely my favourite from the series.

Katie’s Jump was made using the 11×14 camera. It was a straightforward set-up: camera low down on its massive tripod, some front rise, and no tilts. I probably used a 476mm lens, although I don’t remember for sure. There were two lights: one above and to the camera’s right, and one down and to the camera’s left. Technically very simple.

Katie jumped and I tripped the shutter. The lights flashed and the image was captured. In total we did this eight times. Because I was working with film, we couldn’t review the results so I put the film holders somewhere safe while we carried on with another camera.

Developing sheets of 11×14 film is not easy. I develop a stack of four sheets at a time, and working in total darkness I slowly move the stack of film through a series of big trays full of developing chemistry. The film must keep moving, must never be allowed to stick together, and I mustn’t allow any sharp corners to scratch the delicate emulsion.

I developed the 11×14 film a few days after our session. If I remember correctly I’d already processed some 8×10 film and it hadn’t turned out as I had hoped. Given the difficulties of using the 11×14 I had low expectations.

Once the light sensitive steps were completed I turned on the light to see what we’d made: although the first couple of sheets were not great, hiding at the bottom of the stack was this fabulous picture. I was thrilled! It’s difficult to read body language on a negative but I was sure it was, ‘the one’. I hung up the wet negative to dry in my bathroom overnight. (My girlfriend has this funny idea that bathrooms are for bathing in, not washing and drying film and prints. Hopefully one day she’ll understand…)

A few days later I made a test print from the negative.

I only make platinum prints. I was never very good at silver gelatin printing, and machine made prints don’t satisfy me. If you’ve not seen a real platinum print in the flesh then you must search one out. If you’re in the UK then you can find them in the V&A print collection or in many fine art photography exhibitions (or you can knock on my door). They are exquisite.

It’s quite easy to make a simple platinum print, but it takes many years to master the medium. I’ve been printing exclusively with platinum for five or six years now, and have made several thousand prints – but I’m still learning.

A platinum print requires a negative that’s the same size as the print you’re making. That’s why I use those big cameras. (Nowadays it’s possible to make digital negatives which allow you to work from other formats.) Everything is done by hand – mixing the coating from platinum (usually with some palladium too), painting it on to the purest paper you can find (I use Buxton which is handmade in France by Ruscombe Mill – it has a gorgeous texture), exposing the dried paper to ultraviolet light through the negative, and finally processing it in various odd chemicals. It takes effort, concentration and a lot of commitment, but the results are worth it.

Anyway, I’ve digressed. A few days after developing the negative I made a test print, and then my first ‘final’ print. It was perfect.

Since then I’ve made several more ‘final’ prints from this negative, and every one has been better than the last. That’s one of the things I love about handmade prints. Every print is different due to their inherent variability. And every time I print from a negative I learn more about it and how it likes to be presented. It’s a constant evolution.

I’m digressing again…

My current ‘final’ print for Katie’s Jump is in a very delicate high key. There are almost no deep shadows, and no blacks. The highlights have a slight creaminess to them. It’s cropped to about 13.5”x8.5” and mounted on a large sheet of Chateau Vellum paper (also from Ruscombe Mill). The final artwork is approximately 22”x15” with a mix of natural and torn edges.

So other than it being a physically beautiful print featuring a beautiful young woman who is full of vitality (but who somehow mislaid her clothes), why is this picture so important to me?

I believe that art is about gift giving. A successful fine art photograph connects the subject, photographer and viewer together through a richly rewarding relationship of gifts. The subject, whether it’s a person or a church, gives something of themselves to the artwork, the photographer gives their labor, and the viewer gives their attention. In return the viewer is rewarded with pleasure, the subject is rewarded with recognition, and the photographer is rewarded with a sense of fulfillment. The more each participant gives, the more they are rewarded.

This picture, I believe, achieves all of this. Several of my collectors have it on their wall, Katie loves it, and I still get a buzz every time I look at it.

In fact, at the risk of sounding self-indulgent, I’ve just had to take a break from writing in order to sneak a peak at my copy of this print.

Looking at it now, I’m reminded how much I love the narrow space between her body and the edge of the frame, the way her hands and knees refuse to be constrained by the edge of the picture, and the way that her expression is serene even in the midst of such a burst of energy. But I also love the delicate tones that seem to glow from inside the paper, its texture, and its absolutely matte finish. And I’ve got that buzz which makes me want to rush into my studio and make more pictures.

That’s why this picture is so important to me.

Please visit Ian Leake website for more platinum/palladium nude photograpy.

Note: all the pictures shown here are copy photographs of handmade prints. Unfortunately the picture quality suffers in the reproduction.

Feeling The Moment, by Hudson Manilla

Hudson Manilla — Fri, 26 Nov 2010 05:49:03 +0000

The Gold At The End Of My Rainbow
© Hudson Manilla
Please visit Feeling The Moment, by Hudson Manilla for the full size image.

Text and photographs by Hudson Manilla.

It is futile to search for perfection in a person for you will never find it; the secret is to search for beauty, for everyone is beautiful in their own way. Just remember though, it may take a while for you to first see, and then appreciate it.

Although I’m extremely grateful to Fabiano for the opportunity to heighten the profile of my work, I’m always wary of attempting to analyse it, particularly so from an intellectual perspective. You see, from the first images I made as a child, photography has never followed a particularly defined analytical thought process; it has simply been an intuitive desire, indeed a love, to express my creativity and capture real emotions and beauty in all its shapes and forms. I have always felt that when I begin to think about it in too much depth, it somehow distances me from it in a negative way; if I intellectualise about it, I lose precious time actually doing it, and doing it is what I love.

The Dazzling Phantom Of Dark Misfortune - Part Two
© Hudson Manilla
Please visit Feeling The Moment, by Hudson Manilla for the full size image.

Since the release of my first book ‘ONE’, I have been contacted on a regular basis for further information on the project. Being a naturally reclusive person, I’m normally averse to interviews and the media in general, but as there has been such genuine interest in both the style and narrative contained in my work, I felt it appropriate that I should give some insight into the story behind ‘ONE’, and share my approach to how I shot for it.

Medicine For A Common Complaint
© Hudson Manilla
Please visit Feeling The Moment, by Hudson Manilla for the full size image.

Three years ago I was commissioned to shoot a CD cover for an LA based celebrity rock band. The brief from the rock band was to shoot two “rock chix” [sic] looking pretty sassy; if you will a modern uptake on the Roxy Music ‘Country Life’ album cover. I started doing test shoots with numerous girls both in the UK and USA. Through a friend of a friend, an editor from a UK magazine saw some of the images and remarked that they were a refreshing, and interesting deviation from typical work of that genre; she explained… “When I look at them I feel like I’ve found a secret hoard of photographs capturing intimate moments between you and your lovers.” Her interpretation intrigued me and motivated me to shoot more work in a similar vein. It has eventually led to the release of my first book titled ‘ONE’.

Looking For Love In A Looking Glass World
© Hudson Manilla
Please visit Feeling The Moment, by Hudson Manilla for the full size image.

The production of ‘ONE’ was initially an organic process. As I travelled between the UK and USA shooting other projects a particular girl would naturally catch my attention, beyond her exterior appearance there would be an ‘inner beauty’ about her that appealed to me as a subject for the book. This could be attributed to any number of elements including her sensuality, creativity, honesty, good manners, or intellect. I could easily have hired a dozen glamour models from an agency and shot the book over a week or two, but that was not what I was aiming for, I wanted genuine subjects.

The perfect subject for me interprets the mood I’m trying to achieve and projects a strong sensuality. As a lover of beauty, I’m particularly interested in sensuality, the complicity between a woman and a man. I like to capture genuine intimacy mainly shown through a woman’s gaze. A good subject is able to seduce with her femininity and sensuality using a combination of her eyes, fingers, mouth, and her hands. Her body, and the level of nudity captured in the image is in most occasions, secondary to me.

Only Darkness Shares Our Joys - Part One
© Hudson Manilla
Please visit Feeling The Moment, by Hudson Manilla for the full size image.

The book project developed in a more structured fashion when I started to receive positive feedback on my work from respected industry professionals. Amongst them, Dian Hanson an editor at Taschen remarked that it was “lovely work”. It also came to the attention of Maxim Jakubowski, the editor of ‘The Mammoth Book of New Erotic Photography’, a stunning collection of images representing the work of over 70 of the most outstanding photographers in the world, all renowned for their exceptional nude and erotic work. It is due for release November 2010, and fortunately, I am one of the photographers featured.

Midnight At The Bordello Scarletto
© Hudson Manilla
Please visit Feeling The Moment, by Hudson Manilla for the full size image.

People who collect my work often remark that although the image holds an interesting or powerful narrative for them, that aesthetically it is usually very clean and simple in its execution. I’d say not so much simplistic, as understated; I like the viewer to think for themselves, to elicit their own unique response to the subject. Beyond the title of the image, no amount of accompanying flowery verbiage will in any way relate the narrative structure withheld in the images I create. I’ve always felt visual communication has its own language and that the image will speak for itself.

I would call the way I create my imagery as ‘constructive photography’ in that I don’t just take a photograph, I make it. That is not to say there are no organic elements to it, but they are intuitively directed and controlled, however gently, by what emotions I’m feeling and trying to convey at that particular moment.

On a personal level I much prefer intrigue, intimacy, and privacy. When a door is opened into any secret world, however briefly, it makes the experience all the more alluring. I like the powerful sensuality my subjects portray, but also the vulnerability. Some of my subjects have had negative emotional issues and experiences in the past and I feel privileged that they feel comfortable enough to share such personal information with me whilst shooting. As I am mindful of the fact that they are revealing themselves not only in a physical sense, but also emotionally, the trust built up between myself and my subjects is sacrosanct. This is why I try to capture our moments together with great integrity; perhaps it is this element more than any other that defines my work.

Years And Years Of Love All Turned To Paper
© Hudson Manilla
Please visit Feeling The Moment, by Hudson Manilla for the full size image.

Fortunately, the reaction from my subjects post shoot is always extremely positive. Many comment that they have never felt more beautiful and I find this extremely rewarding. For some, it is as though the experience has been cathartic, and that they have been emancipated from the mundane day to day human condition through their experience. As human beings I feel we all deserve to find happiness. From the moment we leave the womb the world we live in bombards us with negativity, war, suffering and misery on a daily basis. As a compassionate human being I try to help as much as possible, but I know there is only so much I can do to help alleviate this condition. If an artistic image I make can take people away from this, even for the most fleeting of moments, then I will feel I have made a contribution in a positive way, however modest.

Ultimately, my primary motive is to craft an artistic image that satisfies me creatively, the definition of that image as sensual or erotic is the viewer’s responsibility. Sexual attraction and response is probably one of the most powerful emotions we experience in life and I find it challenging to relate that in an artistic way, so from my position, I’d say the line between erotica and art interests me much more than the line between pornography and erotica.

Heavenly Homes Are Hard To Find
© Hudson Manilla
Please visit Feeling The Moment, by Hudson Manilla for the full size image.

From an artistic perspective, I have always tried to use my own eye and follow my own path. In recent reviews my work has very kindly been likened to Newton, Sieff, Carlos Clarke and Bourdin. Whilst I’m extremely humbled to be mentioned in the same breath as such icons, I’ve always done my own thing rather than be a derivative of others. Without sounding disrespectful or selfish, I shoot primarily for me. As long as I’m happy creatively with the imagery I make, then the rest can take care of itself.

Please visit Hudson Manilla for more nude and erotic photography.

Seeking The Elemental, by Jeff Greer

Jeff Greer — Fri, 12 Nov 2010 05:11:47 +0000

Text and pictures by Jeff Greer.

I came to photograph nudes like I came to photography, out of curiosity and on a bit of a whim. My initial nudes were done during workshops and classes. While these were acceptable on some level, just about all seemed to miss the mark. They did not feel quite right. Some of the failing was due to technique as each genre has its own set of skills to learn and I had yet to master those for nudes. Yet, something else was also lacking.

One year my plans for attending a nude photography workshop fell through. As a result, I started to work with local models. This meant thinking about the photographs more than I had before. A workshop or class can be a crutch – it is easy to rely on the structure and rules of the workshop rather than bring your own approach to the subject. Now that I was working with models on my own, I had several questions to address. Where would I photograph? How will the location work with the model? How do I want the photos to look or feel? In short, what I am seeking in doing all of this?

I did not have all the answers at first. For me, photography is a journey. Working with a type of subject evolves over time. I learn from the photographs. I see connections and understand nuances. My view of the work and the world deepens.

I started with a simple theme: nudes in nature. Even though this had been done before (as has most everything else in photography and art), it worked for me and served as a place to begin. My first photographs were better than my workshop work yet they still seemed obvious. The photos lacked a depth to them. However, the work was interesting enough that I continued. Each model and location was different. Some worked better than others. Eventually several of these photos stood out. They had good composition, shapes and lines. The best of these also had some other level to them, something not easily put into words. An element of ambiguity, a question that the viewer could answer in more than one way.

I was also finding that I did not want the model to pose. I simply wanted them to be. I wanted them to feel safe and at ease so they could bring themselves completely to the moment and hopefully achieve a new level of work.

After years of working with nudes, I have come to understand my affinity for them: They are elemental. They remind us that we are both human and animal. We are of this world and in so being, we are luminous.

Mechanics

I am amazed how a series of mechanical, almost pragmatic steps can lead to a work of art. For my nudes, it all seems a series of trivial steps at times: scouting locations, contacting models, selecting camera gear, traipsing to a place, working shutter and aperture. Improbable as it seems, everything comes together at times: where I stand, where the light falls, what the model becomes in body and expression, and when I react.

The creek-side photo was not a pre-visualized image. I rarely have those. I am not one for arranging an image; I prefer to work with what is found. This particular setting seemed good for a photo, nothing more. Only later would I see the layers of the image, with the model between flora and water. We tried the photo two ways, first without sand. Then she rolled onto her back, skin and sand meeting. This was the last piece the photo needed; she was now connected to the earth.

A number of my photos are unexpected. I like to go with the flow. I long ago realized what happens that day is better than all my detailed plans. However, the photo of the model in the late evening sunlight was especially unexpected. It was taken in a setting that was not on my mental list from when I scouted the location; the photo is lit by dappled sunlight, something I often avoid due to the difficulty of dealing with the range of light; and the model had never been photographed bald before and was not certain she was going to do so when we started. I view models as collaborators and treat them respectfully. I like to think in this case, doing so enabled the model to work without her wig, bringing an elemental feeling to the photo. The sunlight and shadows caught my attention. She did all the rest.

Like many artists, I borrow ideas from others. I had seen photos involving raffia and was interested in using it but had little idea how. When I worked with the model on the boulder, I brought along an ample supply. My idea of draping it was not sophisticated but as the model started to move, so did the raffia. Occasionally she would adjust it and it would morph into interesting shapes. Near the end of the series of photos, she tied several strands around her head as a blindfold, resulting in an image that can be read in diverse ways, some of which I am comfortable with and others which I am not. This ambiguity, however, is one of the reasons I like the image. Like literature, this photo can be read as metaphor.

I generally tend towards settings that are organic at least in feel, if not actuality. While browsing a craft store, I came across a small wreath of twigs and felt it could be used in an interesting manner in a photo. I brought this along with other organic items when I worked with a model in a studio setting. I used a section of fabric as a backdrop, one that had enough pattern and a proper color to suggest a dimly lit forest. All that was left was to light the model wearing the wreath. Since we worked indoors, I tethered my camera to a laptop so we could periodically review the photos. Once the model and I saw the first few images, we knew we had something interesting and kept working so the model could add nuances from one photo to the next until we felt we had done our best.

Like a lot of my work in the genre, the photos come back to the elemental. They can speak to different tangents but they all have jettisoned the trappings of modern life. There are no clothes or trendy hair to date the image and settings are used to evoke an ‘anytime’ instead of a style or period. They are intended to reach that animal core deeply rooted in our brains over countless generations. In so doing, hopefully they speak a universal wordless language to us all.

A Lasting Visual Image, by Richard Griffin

Richard Griffin — Fri, 24 Sep 2010 05:44:36 +0000

Text and photographs by Richard Griffin.

This morning, I awoke to find an e-mail requesting that I write an article for Camera Obscura, but I also awoke to an interesting sight. The house next door to mine has been vacant for quite some time, and I only recently noticed that someone moved in because I can see plants on the patio deck and at night some lights are on.

While I was waiting for the coffee to brew, I looked out my laundry room window and saw my new neighbor standing in her bedroom wearing a white bathrobe. She was standing, with the robe open, watching television and drinking coffee. I immediately recognized this moment for what my instincts told me it was: I knew she would drop the robe at any moment, and she did.

She walked around her bedroom nude, putting on jewelry and brushing her hair. Floor-to-ceiling windows surround her bedroom. She stood in front of the television while rubbing lotion on her face and body, and the light of the screen illuminated her naked features. This sort of thing happens to me from time to time, and it never fails to arouse me in a way that is hard to describe. I would rather catch such an intimate glimpse of someone innocent, in that I am not standing on a trashcan peeping through her window than to see someone standing nude on a beach.

I believe that, as a society, we have become very voyeuristic, and I believe also that photography has played a major role in this development. We are bombarded with thousands of images per day. The Internet takes us into people’s lives through web sites such as Facebook, it also takes us into people’s bedrooms via live web cam sites where people, usually young women, allow us the most intimate access into their private lives. Paparazzi bring us spy photos of our favorite celebrities despite the invasion of privacy that this represents, but we look anyway.

As soon as Henri Cartier-Bresson got his hands on the new Leica 35mm camera, he forever changed the future and the approach of photography. He became famous for being “invisible” on the streets, and had a unique skill for capturing what he called the “decisive moment” in people’s ordinary daily lives. When I look through his photographs, I am awestruck at how voyeuristic they are, and I almost feel like I am “peeping” into the private lives of unsuspecting subjects.

There are certain aboriginal cultures that are uncomfortable with the idea of being photographed, and they say it is like a piece of their soul is being snatched away from them. Though this may sound like they are uncivilized and ignorant of modern technology, I feel there is truth in how they feel about photography. Capturing a private or unguarded moment is one of the unique aspects of photography. Taking the viewer of a photograph to a place he or she would not otherwise have had access, helped establish photography as a viable art form.

Of course, as history has shown, as soon as the camera was invented, the form of nude photography flourished. The nude had long been the subject of painters and sculptors, but the photograph was capable of capturing a real moment in real time. The intimacy of photography is the true cornerstone of the medium. Ruth Bernhard pioneered the early nude study, and was one of the very best in the art of capturing the female nude. The two photographers who had the most influence on me are Ruth Bernhard and Henri Cartier-Bresson, because I feel that they are both capturing the secret intimate moments of people’s lives and allowing me a portal into this realm.

I am drawn to nude portraits because I feel they represent honest, vulnerable, and intimate access to the subject. I once visited a nude beach many years ago. All the people I met were naked when I first saw them. We had long conversations as if we had all known each other for years. There was an immediate and intimate connection between total strangers. One night, we all went to the big dining hall for dinner, and everybody was dressed in their finest. It was very strange to see them in their designer clothes sporting their pricey Swiss watches, and we all agreed that we liked each other better nude, there were no logos and trinkets to define us or to separate us into a class system.

As a society, we have forfeited our right to privacy. The minute something interesting happens to us, we use our cell phone camera to put it on our Facebook page or post it to You-Tube for the entire world to see, instant access to the minute details of our lives offered to total strangers. It appears that, for it to be real and meaningful, it has to be posted somewhere for others to see, if it’s not in pictures, it didn’t happen.

In some countries they have had to modify the laws governing the photographing of people in public places due to the abuse of modern technology. There are numerous accounts of people placing tiny cameras in public bathrooms or using their cell phone camera to photograph women’s legs under the table or climbing stairs. There are websites devoted to “upskirts” where men hide video cameras in shopping bags and hold them low enough to video up short dresses. The popularity of the “Girls Gone Wild” series demonstrates that, for some people, they are more than happy to bare it all just for the thrill of the moment.

As a society, we risk becoming immune to images. I have heard this said many times: Somebody looks at an amazing photograph, and instead of appreciating what it took to capture the precise instant of the moment, they say, “It was probably Photoshopped.” We are getting to the point where we don’t trust the medium without the tweaking done in Photoshop. Personally, I hate what Photoshop has done to the fine art of photography. Sure, I use it to erase blemishes and soften the effects of time-induced wrinkles, but I know I am cheating when I do it.

As an art form, photography has endured many hardships along the way. For some, photography will never be more than a nifty gadget. For me, it is the art form of my choice. It is my passion, my window into the world and the people around me. I always feel a bond with my subjects after I photograph them, and I always value the significance of the gesture when they drop their shields and give me access to their inner world.

I also fear that photography is always on the precipice of losing its value as an art form. We are exposed to so many images, some real, some Photoshopped, that there can exist a saturation point of no return. What images of today will be considered the timeless classics of tomorrow? Who are the new masters guarding the gateways of our practice?

I began this article describing a scene where a woman walked naked in front of her window. She did so for quite a while, and I watched the entire time, unable to blink an eye. Certainly, she knew the windows were there, and certainly she was aware of the possibility that someone out there might be watching. The feeling that I experienced best defines why I value photography as an art form. What she did this morning is now an image in my mind, or a blend of many images that I will never forget. But more than that, I had a glimpse into the quiet and private beginnings of her day when she rubs her lotion on, sips her coffee, and piece by piece, gets dressed to go out into the world to do whatever it is she does…only I was there to see it happen, and thanks to the famous images of my favorite photographers, I was there to see what they captured as well.