Face to Face: Part II
“What are you going to shoot with?”
“Oh, I brought two cameras, My Rolleiflex 2.8 for film and my Nikon for digital.”
She looks at me pointedly. “Ok, which one are you going to shoot with?”
“Well…both?” I say, shuffling nervously. “I find that the Rollei is usually a good conversation starter since most people don’t shoot with film.”
Raising an eyebrow she says, “Ok. So, which ONE are you going to shoot with?”
It’s clear that she’s hoping that I’ll choose the Nikon. I’m being asked to pick the medium that isn’t my first choice. And that is the point. By taking this workshop, I am purposefully putting myself into the hands of the leader and doing something that I find uncomfortable.
Packing for this workshop I want to be deliberate with the cameras I choose. Of the film cameras that I own, I prefer my Rolleis because the negative size is 6 centimetres by 6 centimetres. I have two to choose from: a Rolleiflex 3.5 (meaning the largest aperture is f/3.5) and a Rolleiflex 2.8e (with an even larger, faster aperture). The forecast calls for rain, so the Rolleiflex 2.8e is my choice because of its faster lens. Additionally, I’m traveling with my Nikon D5300 with a 50mm prime (“prime” meaning that it has a fixed focal length and cannot zoom in or out of an image). At f/1.8 it is my fastest and sharpest lens for the Nikon.
I have two days free ahead of the workshop, and am going to avail myself of as much of the city as I can on foot. I am in the Chelsea neighborhood of the city, a vibrant area with a blend of people from away and those who live in the local neighbourhood. One of the destinations I have set my heart to is the Chelsea Hotel, the one time flophouse eloquently remembered in Leonard Cohen’s eulogy for Janis Joplin. I have a roll of Cinestill with the address of 222 West 23rd St already on it for this purpose. Perhaps it is cliche, and a photo captured by many people over the decades, but this is going to be my photo.
After settling into the hotel, it is time to get out on foot, stretch the legs after a five hour drive in the rain, and explore what the west side has in store for me. Sixteenth Street is right on my doorstep, so I head to The High Line. With only my Nikon in hand, I climb the stairs from 16th street onto the deck of the old elevated freight line converted into an urban oasis - sections of old track, most covered by the growth of trees and flowers, with some sections cultivated to resemble prairie. This city park runs almost perfectly north along the eastern bank of the Hudson River, and is full of people bundled tightly against the wind that whips its way through the tall glass buildings of Hudson Yards.
The next day I have a mission. Most photographers in the U.S. and Canada are well aware of B & H Photo. It’s simply the most iconic photography and audio-visual store in the world. I had been ordering from them since I was in college over twenty years ago, but I have never made the trip to the store itself. The schlep is long but not difficult. Usually when I am walking within any city, I tend to walk with purpose, which is both a good and bad thing. On one hand, knowing where I am going gives me an envelope of confidence that I feel safe in, but on the other hand I am not as observant as I could be. This is odd since I typically lament that I rarely have the opportunity to immerse myself in one place for more than a day at a time.
Arriving at the green awning of B & H photo, I cross the threshold into what some might describe as a photographer’s eden. If you are an avid consumer of photography related Youtube videos, undoubtedly the algorithm has targeted you with a B&H commercial portraying friendly staff who are always helpful and can answer every question. I do not doubt the expertise of the staff, but this is not my in-store consumer experience. I am looking to pick up some more Perceptol, my standard developer for black and white film. Signs guide me toward the back of the store where chemistry and film is found. Here, I wander up to the counter to a clearly disinterested middle aged gentleman tapping vigorously away on his keyboard, giving me the distinct impression that I better have a sense of what I need or I will be sh*t out of luck. Finally acknowledging me, I ask for my Perceptol and PMK, another developer I want to experiment with. He speaks few words to me, continuing to tap rapidly on an old school buckling spring keyboard, loud in this corner of the store, punctuated with the even louder tapping of his ID on the counter.
There’s no green bin for you to place your product in as you browse, that is all done by someone else in a warehouse in the background. As a customer, I feel ignored. I get it, I worked in retail both on the floor and corporate for a total of ten years. He has stuff to do, and especially working where you know you are the premiere marketplace for audio visual equipment in the world, there’s perhaps there is a certain superiority that he feels over the customer. Or, it could be because I know what I want and didn't require expert input which freed him to do other things. Or, Yom Kippur is the next day and he just has a lot of orders to fulfill before sundown (L’Shana Tova my friend). After about ten minutes of furious typing and tapping of his ID, he prints out a slip and motions me toward check out and the absolutely lovely people there, and less than thirty minutes later I walk out, satisfied with exactly what I want.
The Flat Iron Building, New York City
I drop off my bag full of moderately toxic photo chemistry at the hotel, I wander back out, this time heading to Washington Square Park to the south. The Rollei is loaded with a roll of Ilford FP4+. I eventually reach the Flat Iron Building, the iconic building designed by Daniel Burnham and Frederick Dinkelberg, near Madison Square Park. I try to frame the building up in my viewfinder. Not going to work, I need to take a few steps back. Having an 80mm lens requires a lot of “zooming out with my feet”, and takes me almost all the way across the park in order to capture the building in full. This is one of the challenges of working with fixed lenses, there’s no easy zooming in on an image from your phone or just throwing on a wider lens. However, this is one of the reasons why I love shooting with the Rollei…you work with what your mamma gave you. The other difficulty is the very flat light that I am working with. I finish with the Flat Iron and head south.
Along the way a young woman who notices my Rollei stops me. My Inner Monologue gently rests its hand on my shoulder, “You might be ready to ask someone for your first street portrait of the trip”. She has never seen a camera like it and wants to know how the camera operates. I open the view finder and let her look through the view screen on the top of the camera. She asks if she could take a picture of it on her phone and I respond cheerfully, “Sure, if I could take your portrait in exchange!”
Even as it came out of my mouth, my Inner Monologue withdrew its hand, shaking its head. I knew that this was the wrong way to ask for a stranger’s portrait. Her body language completely changed and she became more nevrous than I felt asking for her portrait. I immediately backpedal “Oh no, you can still take a photo of the camera, I didn't mean for it to come across that way”, apologizing profusely. She relaxes a bit, and takes her photo of the Rollei, after which we introduce ourselves, say our goodbyes with a smile, and and depart as strangers. My first lesson - never try to make street portraits transactional.
I eventually make my way to Washington Square Park, which was full of people walking around the fountain under the shelter of their umbrellas, cops standing leisurely under the arch, and a lot of other street photographers milling about, working their scene. The approach is referred to as “hunting” for an image. Instead, I stand back and wait for the images to pass in front of my lens, really struggling with trying to keep my shutter speed fast enough to not have an under exposed or blurry image. I finally reach the end of my roll and loaded another roll of FP4, but this time I rated it at 400 speed instead of 125. This is called “pushing” your film where you are intentionally under exposing your film and then compensate with over developing with either additional time or using a stronger concentration of your developer. This does have some tradeoffs however, namely in graininess, however it useful if the conditions are less than optimal for box speed or you want higher contrast. I have not experimented with this very much, but this appears to be the best time to try it out.
The next day is workshop day, where I meet Grabielle and classmates at Stumptown Coffee Roasters just north of Washington Square Park. I walk in, keeping a lookout for her and anyone else with a camera. I spotted her and a gentleman with a knit cap. I grab a cup of coffee and upon returning we make our introductions. Evidently we will be missing a few people as a couple of the others had to drop out for various reasons. At first glance, it is going to be a much more one on one class which I am happy about, although I also realize that it limits the dynamic of the group, and after having travelled from the UK, I’m sure that having a smaller group is probably less than optimal for the workshop. Gabrielle casually gives an outline of how the class will be conducted: first a little bit about ourselves, what we “do for money”, our background in photography, where we are from…you know, the getting to know you part without the Sound of Music vibe. We discuss our comfort levels, how when there’s rejection from someone that we want to photograph - because it will happen - it typically has nothing to do with us as photographers and more to do with their discomfort. Chad, the other classmate and I talk a little about our awareness that as a male, approaching a woman for a portrait can be uncomfortable. I relate my experience with the woman who wanted to take a photo of my Rollei, and how I felt when I tried to awkwardly softball a pitch to take her portrait.
We talk over our plan. From here we will photograph in Washington Square Park, and then perhaps wander up to The High line if we were up for it. Gabrielle suggests that at first we just stick close to her and see how she approaches people. Then…we hit the streets.
As we walk out the door she gives us her recommendations: Aperture Priority and auto focus since the conditions are constantly changing, and that there’s value to turning over some control to the camera. These are settings I normally do not use. While I fumble around with the camera, in an instant and with the graceful calculus of a jumping spider, she spots an older bearded gentleman walking toward us. “Excuse me, may I make your picture?” Disarmed, he immediately stops and she makes conversation with him. She casually raises the camera to her eye while speaking with him. It is almost as if the camera is not there, and is only an occasional punctuation to their conversation. Witnessing how she establishes a rapport from the first second is enviable and clearly comes from experience and constant practice.
We continue on and arrive at Washington square Park where I immediately notice a young woman on a bench drawing in her notebook. Our leader instinctively reads my body language and gently nudges, “What’s stopping you”? Encouraged, I walk toward the woman. I am curious about what she was drawing. “Hi! Do you mind if I take your photograph?” She immediately responds, “No thank you”. “Ok, well, thank you and have a nice day”, I respond and move on, not wanting to belabor the point. Gabrielle moves past me to and asks, “Is that hard ‘No’?” My inner narrator asks, “What does she mean by a hard no? Is this a thing?”
Moments later, Gabrielle later comes over. “How did that make you feel?” I say that it’s ok, people have their reasons and they don’t necessarily know my intentions. She reassuringly reminds me that people say no for a variety of reasons and it has nothing to do with me as the photographer. Then she proclaims, “We got the first no of the class!”, and she gives me a high-five. That took the sting out of the rejection, and we move on.
While Gabrielle was engaging with another group of people gathered near the fountain, I feel confident that there is another opportunity nearby and strike off on my own, as Chad did. I see two young people sitting side by side on a bench, her Manic Panic pink hair and his beautiful curly hair. Nearing them, I say “Hi, would you mind if I take your portrait?” At first they seemed a little confused as to why a stranger would be asking them this, but agreed and continued in their banter as I raise the Nikon to my eye. I take only two photos without reviewing in between, thanking them and move on. Only later, when I review the images, I find my settings weren’t quite right and they are blurry.
I return to Gabrielle who is still photographing the group of young people at the fountain. There was one person in particular to me who stood out to me, large spools in their ears. Gabrielle says to me, “Feel free to also jump in and ask them if they would like their portrait taken. They aren’t just mine to photograph”. I ask Spools if I could take their picture. Umbrella in hand, they posed with a wide smile.. I stake several photos, I thank them and wander off. I review my images. Still blurry. Damn it! What am I missing? It is all in the settings. The camera is on shutter priority, so I was telling the camera that I was in charge of shutter speed, and it was responsible for the rest. I change to aperture priority so the camera sets the shutter speed while I control the aperture. I choose a shallow depth of field, f 3.5. This ought to do.
We leave Washington Square Park and agree to continue to the High Line. Along the way, Chad tells us about the Diane Arbus exhibit, and Gabrielle suggests that we could pop in to see it. I am only superficially familiar with her work from my photography and modern art history classes from college. I think this is a great idea.
We head toward the High Line and I see a gentleman walking ahead of us with brightly coloured balloons. I am totally taken by the bright colours on this grey day. I speed up to follow him, taking photographs all the while. The happy accident was when Chad and Gabrielle both point out that are about to pass a sign for Gay St. Perhaps there are no accidents in life, but moments to remain open to and observe. Maybe there are moments like these everywhere.
Pride Street
No sooner than the gentleman with the balloons turns the corner to the left, I see a couple walking toward me. They are stunning under the canopy of their umbrella. I stop in my tracks, “Excuse me, but you both are so beautiful, may I please take your photo?” “Sure!” They both pause side by seach, their eyes twinkling like jewels in the rain. I take only one shot, but even before I press the shutter, I know that this is the best photo I capture of the entire evening. I thank them as they continue on their way.
Couple near Washington Square Park, New York City
Девочка
We eventually make our way north to The High Line. Here we decide to spilt up and venture on our own. However, before we go our own ways, there is a young woman in a pale blue jacket walking toward us. Gabrielle urges, “Why aren’t you approaching her?” Nervously, I walk forward, “Excuse me, may I please take your photo?” The young woman doesn’t realize I am talking to her, and passes by. I decide that it was a lost opportunity. Gabrielle steps in front of her, and starts speaking to her. Puzzled, the woman looks up, and Gabrielle asks if she could take her photo. The woman stops, lowering the hood of her jacket. “Actually, could you please put your hood back up? It’s almost the same color as the wall behind you?”. Gabrielle takes a few photographs and asks, “Where are you from?” The young woman responded, “Russia”. Gabrielle and I both respond back, “Привет!” (Hi!) I ask, “Как дела?” (How are you?) Puzzled, the woman asks, “How do you know Russian?” I explain how I took voice lessons in college and one of the pieces of music I learned was Трепак (Trepak means “Dance” in Russian) by Modest Mussorgsky. She asks me if I can still sing it, and timidly, I actually sang to a stranger in public. Only a couple awkward verses. I did make a photograph of her, but in my uncomfortable haste, I took one photo, only realizing later that her eyes were closed. I was nervous, especially singing for a stranger and having them see a glimpse of who I am without the camera as a shield. In a way I am kicking myself for taking only just one photograph, but in another way, it is perfect. This is how we both awkwardly connected as strangers on the street.
“Why are you so hard on yourself?”
I cannot give an explanation but, but this is one of the reason why I took Gabrielle’s workshop. I do not often put myself in front of my lens, literally or figuratively. I realize that my discomfort is about me, and not the people I pass by. I genuinely want to be able to approach people who are unfamiliar, hear their story, perhaps capture a portrait, and also honor who they are. I am not comfortable doing that, but I want to be. It takes intentional practice. I do not do it often enough.
This seems like it might be a good place to end the blog, however, there is one last portrait of the evening. While we were walking down the stairs at the 20th St exit, I spotted another photographer reviewing his photos on his camera. “Excuse me sir, not that I want to interrupt you, but do you mind if I take your portrait? I like your goggles”. “Not at all”, shifting his stance. Not overly concerned about the people behind me on the stairs, I take a few photos of him. “Do you want one with the goggles down?” “Sure! Thanks!”, and I took a couple more after he slid them down. “Thank you”, and we file past.
Gabrielle and I walk into the Arbus exhibit which occupies just a handful of rooms. I don’t even recall if there were titles. Almost everything seems posed and full of tension which seems to me a hallmark of her work. “I cannot believe that there are as many chemical stains on the prints as there are," I remark to Gabrielle. We only spend a few moment in each room. “Which one of these do you wish you had taken?” I honestly don’t know. Perhaps it was the twin sisters who vaguely resemble the Grady sisters from The Shining. We speak with the people at the front desk. There are quotes from art critics about Diane’s work, some unkind, which only shows how controversial her work still is.
We later convene at a large name brand coffee house, and the three of us pass our cameras around for a final critique. I find out that Chad, is going to head up to Canada and later pass through through my neck of the Northeast, and I offer to either make suggestions of places to go, or if he is interested, to catch up in Portland, Maine and we could go shoot and catch a pint and a bite.
So, here is the biggest take away from I this experience. Just as Gabrielle reached out to be mentored and took as many opportunities as she could to grow - we as photographers, creatives, comedians...whatever our art is, doesn't happen in a vacuum. It takes learning from others.
If you ever have the chance to take one Gabrielle’s workshops, I cannot recommend her enough. She’s not just a photographer, but also keen observer of not just the humanity passing by in the street, but also her students, and she takes her mentorship seriously. Working with others is an invaluable experience. I am very glad that I did, and I look forward to the next time that I either take another one of her with her workshops, or with someone else. There is a vast world of experience that is available to tap in to, only if we seek it.
It is my last night in New York City. I have just finished drinks and food at the Dead Rabbit (seriously take the chance to go for the expert drinks and ambience). However, the Rollei still has a roll of Cinestill in it. I take the subway to the closest station to the Chelsea Hotel. There she is, glowing quietly in the reflected neon light. I square up the neon sign on the focus screen of the Rollei. 1/60 of a second at f/4. It is pushing the limits of being handheld. But, it is good enough for me.
