From Shoots 3-4

What We Forget

Harlem Tourism

February 23 - Shoot with Sophie Blumberg

The Philosophy: As we move farther and farther away from the age of classical art, the world becomes less interested by it. Instead, we are turning our eyes towards MTV and YouTube as our main sources of culture. Even the greatest artists of the twentieth century are being ignored. For instance, most people recognize the name Picasso, but only a small portion of those people can name one of his paintings. And while modern art has succeeded in opening the doors of how artists express themselves, it has failed to draw from influences of the classical period. If we continue down this road, we will become blind to one of the most vital and fascinating parts of human history.

"I doubt that security will let you in with a broom handle. They might consider that to be a weapon." These words—uttered by my mom—kicked off one of the stranger shoots of this project. Until very recently, I was like the vast majority of Americans without visual impairment, in that I did not have a blind person's cane. But unlike that same vast majority, I had a photo shoot in which my subject was supposed to seem blind. So I did what anyone would have done. I unscrewed the handle of a broom and left it at that. Turns out that's not good enough for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. So after debating for a good five minutes about how we could procure a blind persons cane, we were able to put the last cane on reserve at a medical supplies store on 72nd and 3rd. We drove there, picked up the cane, and were at the museum in record time. 

Our next task was to come up with an appropriate outfit so that Sophie would look convincingly blind. I had brought an assortment of sunglasses, while Sophie had half of her hat collection in her purple-tiger tote bag. We eventually settled on the bucket hat and a pair of black sunglasses that probably cost $5.00 or less. But as fate would have it, the item which really made the whole outfit come together was the cane. In fact, we ended up fooling a large number of the museums patrons, including my sister's physical therapist. (We ran into him in one of the museum's statue gardens. He proceeded to call my mom asking "what kind of visual impairment does Alex's friend have?") 

We went to various parts of the museum, often getting lost in the sheer size of the place. We exchanged random bits of trivia, looked at art, and developed "museum fatigue," a phrase coined by Sophie to describe the specific type of weariness one feels after spending too long in a museum. We shot at one of the statue gardens, the giant statue court, the contemporary art section, and the Temple of Dendur—on of my favorite locations in the whole museum. But everywhere we went, we seemed to draw attention. "I think it's for a school project," one would say, or "I don't know. Do you think she's really blind?" I noticed a pattern among the four shoots I have done so far, and among the people who pass by. However curious, surprised, or confused people are about the girl in costume and the guy with the camera, nobody ever asks. And I could not for the life of me tell you why.

After about an hour of shooting and two hours of wandering, I finally finished the last roll. I felt really good about everything. Since the shoot was inside, the freezing cold which had plagued the last three shoots was not a factor this time, so I ended up having more time to do everything. On the way out I heard a security guard tell a man he couldn't bring his sled into the museum; I was glad we hadn't tried to go in with the broom handle.

February 16 - Shoot with Nina Perlman

The Philosophy: While it is no longer manifested in segregated drinking fountains and "separate but equal" schools, White America is still racist. In todays world, racism is displayed more subtly, like the phenomenon of white flight and suburbanization, the censorship of rap music, and the general uneasiness when in a "black neighborhood," like the Bronx or Harlem. As a result, black culture has also become something of a spectacle. Rap and hip hop music has gained one of its biggest markets with white teenage suburbanites, and yet people seem to fall more and more out of touch with the blues. Jazz music has been all but forgotten, and the majority of those who play it are now white and classically trained. White spectators of this culture seem like tourists, who want to experience "blackness" but would never bring themselves to be an actual part of it.

On Saturday, I woke up at about 8:30 in the morning to be sure that I wasn't late. I would be visiting my friend in Greenwich the next day, so I needed to pack. I also had to overpack, to make sure that mom didn't call me out on forgetting anything--as I had done virtually every time I had tried to pack by myself. So I had plans. But on Saturday, at about 8:35 in the morning, I fell back asleep. So at 10:00, I called Nina and rescheduled our noon meeting to one. By the time I had showered, eaten breakfast, packed, overpacked, gotten dressed, and checked all my photo equipment, Nina was on her way over. I guess time flies when you oversleep.

I went upstairs to tell my dad that we were going. I explained that we were going to take some shots at the 125th street station and then head over to the Apollo for the majority of shooting.

"I want you to be careful," he said. "Harlem is still a dangerous neighborhood."

"Um, dad, have the words 'broad daylight' ever occurred to you?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

I couldn't help but laugh at the grand irony of the conversation.

Nina was wearing boot cut jeans and an "I Love NY" t-shirt. She had brought with her four different pairs of sunglasses, her Holga camera, and a faux fur scarf. We agreed that while the costume was pretty funny, the icing on the cake would be a fold-up NYC Transit subway map. But of course, on the way to the 125th Street station, we forgot to pick one up. So we did the first photos at the station, with Nina accentuating her t-shirt and taking glamor shots of the neighborhood. (I couldn't help but imagine a clueless, southern, tourist family surveying the area for some "authentic African American food." Meanwhile the young boy of the family would point to graffiti exclaiming "look maw! Are we in a museum?")

We picked up the street map on the way to street level, when suddenly Nina and realized the same thing at almost the same instant. By attempting to look like and parody the stereotypical New York tourist, and by going to a place where we weren't exactly sure of the street plan, we had come uncomfortably close to being the tourists we were trying to lampoon. For instance, when we had trouble finding the Apollo theater at first, we both looked at each other and considered if it would be so wrong to pull out the map and check our location. How's that for another grand moment of irony?

We eventually did find the Apollo--not to mention a neighboring theater which conveniently had "Welcome to Halrlem, USA" written on the marquee. We shot by both of them. I also attempted to get the Hotel Theresa in frame. (I also learned that the correct pronunciation is "TE-ree-sah" and not "THE-ree-sah.") As per usual, we got the occasional stare, a couple people walked into frame, but for the most part, the shooting was mechanical. Also, like the two other shoots, it was freezing outside and I had been too stupid to bring gloves. It got so bad, that we decided to skip the fourth roll of film and just go home to a warm meal.

On the way back home, I had one last grand moment of irony. Thinking about the few, short hours Nina and I spent in Harlem, I couldn't help but wonder if I was a part of the problem as well. Did being white and well-off mean that I was inclined to show some of the same racism I was attempting to point a finger at. To be honest, this was the first time I had gone to Harlem when I wasn't with my parents or a class trip. And when my dad suggested that I should be careful in Harlem, I jumped down his throat, but I couldn't help but feel a little nervous when we were shooting. It was a chilling reminder of my work's proximity to my life. However much I try to escape and expose the customs and issues of Generation Y, I will never escape the fact that I am a part of it.

From the First Two Shoots

It occurred to me that it would be a good idea to show some examples of my work from my first two photo shoots. My third shoot is this Saturday with Nina.

Note: If you wanna see these bigger, just click 'em.

Ghost Town Legends

Couches for Capsules

Checklist

MODELS

• [  ] Model for Jack Abramoff shoot
  
• [x] Model for nerd shoot
  
• [  ] Model for bathrobe shoot
  
• [x] Model for no-pants school shoot
  
• [x] Model for gas mask shoot
  
• [  ] Model for angelic athlete shoot
  
• [x] Model for gay marriage shoot
  
• [x] Model for blind art shoot
  
• [x] Model for birthday at the stock exchange shoot
  
• [x] Model for military shooot
  

STUFF

• [  ]  Bouquet of flowers
  
• [  ] Wedding band
  
• [x] Gas mask
  
• [  ] Birthday supplies
  
• [x] Cane a blind person would use
  
• [  ] Angelic cloak
  
• [x] Curlers
  
• [x] A handheld mirror
  
• [  ] Hat and trenchcoat
  
• [  ] Military boots
  

Sick Day Thoughts

As I lay in bed, sick today, trying to figure out if, as my friend and subject Alee suggested, a girl dressed up like Jack Abramoff would look like Carmen Sandiego, there was a question that kept popping into my head. Well, two questions really. "Are enough people signed onto to model for this project?" and "Where are you going to find all the seemingly random stuff that this project requires?" The first question I'm not so worried about. As for the second one, I'm only two shoots into this project, and my laundry list of items I need to find already includes the following…

1. Large bouquet of flowers
2. Wedding band
3. Gas mask
4. "Bio-Hazzard" suit
5. Birthday party supplies including a hat, streamers, balloons, and noisemaker
6. Cane a blind person would use
7. Angelic cloak
8. Curlers
9. A handheld mirror

I'm sure it's stuff that I will, by sheer necessity, be able to find in the big city. But the shopping list does act as a reminder of the size and complexity of this project.

Another thing that I can't get out of my head is the discussion that my class at ICP had about the nature of portraiture. (Coincidentally, there was a girl sitting nearby that would not stop coughing, to whom I'm directing my blame for getting sick.) I have a very, very strict policy about what I believe is portraiture and what isn't. So you can imagine my reaction when my teacher said that you can have a "portrait of a moment" and assigned us to take a roll of self portraits, with one half of the roll being "representational." In other words, we couldn't feature our bodies, but instead, had to somehow create a portrait devoid of humans. So I'm pretty angry. I think that portraiture is all about showing people. And there can be incredible works of art that tell a story about a person, but they aren't portraits. 

I mention this because it has a lot to do with my project and the way that I tend to do portraiture projects. The way I see it, you can use portraiture to do two things. On the one hand, you can use it to tell the story of one person, like Alfred Stieglitz's photographs of Georgia O'Keefe. The other thing a photographer can do, and what I lean towards, is to create a series of portraits using people that are all a part of something. I like the latter style because it allows the photographer to address an issue bigger than just one person. The other thing it does, is that it makes the photograph more impersonal with respect to the subject. 

Which brings me to my overarching idea which connects my the former part of this blog with the latter. I'm not picking models based on personality, but on convenience. Because in the end, who models for each photograph doesn't matter as much as what the subject of the photograph is. That's why, "where are you gonna find enough models?" and "where are you gonna get supplies?" are really the same question. The models in this project serve the same function as all of the other supplies. The fact that Nina is a photographer doesn't matter, but the fact that she has access to large cameras and an I Love NY t-shirt meant that she would dress up as a tourist. In this project, none of the people are what matter, but rather the concept they portray. And so one of the grand themes that these photographs will  address is the ability to recognize something that is bigger than yourself.