recently published: Green Mountain Weekend

In mid August, I photographed an ebook for a lovely client, Green Mountain Spinnery.  The theme? Autumn weekend in New England,  showcasing eight woolly designs, all knit up in the spinnery's natural fiber (read: warm) yarns. And now, the ebook's released!

Love the cover design, featuring the hat Margaret's Tam

Truth is, I like the challenge of faking a season. An excuse for using cider donuts as a prop? Yes, please.

The Aria Tunic.

Want to guess how long those donuts lasted once we had the shot?
Thanks to the good humor of my [real people] models wearing all the layers in summer, the talent of our makeup artist DD Nickel, and me bossing around the models to stand in front of old barns instead of our location's lush vegetable patches and flower gardens, we pulled off  the ruse.

Odiorne sweater. She was scared balancing on the barrel but hid it well, right?

Putney Mountain vest

There's more I want to say about this shoot, and show...but I guess that'll be another post--today it really is a splendid autumn day, I need to get out there and enjoy the season in real life, not just in my photos.

RIP Phyllis Diller: a photo shoot to remember

A decade ago I was assigned to shoot a portrait of Phyllis Diller, the great comedian. I walked in to her hotel suite at the arranged time.  No fuss, no publicist.   Just me, my assistant and her famous big laugh. After talking for a few minutes, one thing was clear. Phyllis Diller was a brilliant woman. Trained as a concert pianist, she became a comedian to support her family, at a time when women just didn't do that. All the domestic ineptness, over-the-top shtik? A persona. Phyllis Diller was a performance artist, before we knew what that was.

She was wearing a perfectly tailored royal blue suit. After making some photos in the sitting area, we decided to play around with the location--a large suite at a spa hotel. A fluffy robe was borrowed from the gift shop, my assistant  overfilled a bath with bubbles, Ms Diller made a wardrobe  change.  Somewhere in the mix, I found myself standing there talking to her, in a marble and brass bathroom, with my camera in one hand and her bra in the other. I'm glad to say I had the presence of mind to stop and just appreciate the moment, before we started shooting again.

What an honor.  Rest in peace, Ms Diller.

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See more portraits of brilliant people (some funnier than others) on my website.

the wait

A few months ago--6 to be precise- I was in Minneapolis for a few days photographing for a new book of knitwear designs.  It was a joy of a shoot.  And it's a beaut of a book.

Working with the Wear With All creative team was what the joy was all about --from the big concepts, to the marathon photo shoot, to the very last detail.  Not to mention the post-shoot celebratory local beer and tater tots dinner.

 

detail from Stole by Theresa Gaffey

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More  photos of wooly subjects over on my website , in the She Shoots Sheep Shots portfolio.

tearsheet

     In one of those weird synchronicities  some call coincidence, I photographed Ran Vann, a refugee from Pol Pot's Cambodia, on Holocaust Remembrance Day in May, for Miller-McCune.  The violent lime green of early spring in Connecticut was stark contrast to Ran. She's delicate; a sad petite woman living in a small basement apartment. She speaks of the ghosts who live with her.  Her loneliness is a presence in the room.

     While we talked and I tried to figure out where to make her portrait, I couldn't put aside memories of the Holocaust survivors I knew growing up. In my suburb in western upstate New York, everyone working at the bakery had tattoos from Hitler on their forearms. Each July my grandmother visited from Brooklyn with her 3rd husband, Harry. He'd had a horrific childhood in the concentration camps of Europe, surviving as a teen by feigning death in a mass grave while camp guards shot down into his pile of bodies, as the liberators approached.  Harry felt it his personal responsibility to retell this, in a chilling heavily accented narrative,  once every summer.  I'd spend his visit avoiding eye contact but knowing at some point he'd corner me, and I'd hear it again. Bearing witness, I guess, but I was too young to get the importance to him.

a wall in Ran Vann's apartment

With all that in my upbringing, it bothers me that while Pol Pot was destroying Cambodian culture and lives, I was oblivious. Roughly 2 million people died, and many more, like Ran Vann, are suffering in the shadow of his reign, still. It was in the newspapers but I was busy being a teenager not noticing the details, hearing about Kampuchea but not understanding that a genocide was going on. Didn't really get it until the movie The Killing Fields came out. (It's worth a watch, still, if you haven't seen it).

There's not much we can do about history but try not to repeat the parts that went horribly wrong, and to acknowledge the needs of the Ran Vann's and their ghosts, in our midst. That's what the Miller McCune article does. (You can read it, from the link.)

 So very glad and honored to have had the opportunity to meet her.

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You can see more of my portraits of people with stories to tell on my website and over at my Dripbook.

take me out to an upgrade

When I get a call from a university alumni magazine, I  never know what I might be photographing.  Celebrities, brilliant scientists, explorers, authors, could be any kind of subject. Unlike consumer mags these days, I often see images run full page, in spreads and as photo essays. How much do I love these clients? Much.

That's how I found myself photographing a Vintage Fantasy Baseball League game in bucolic Sandy Hook, CT. The shoot was fun, the subjects passionate about their slightly eccentric hobby,  the editor and designer are happy. 

Custom replica 1860's baseball gear for the game

My MVP wasn't on the field though. It's my upgrade to a faster newer computer and Aperture 3.0. Mostly the Aperture 3.0 I forgot that image processing didn't have to be a teeth grinding, computer-freezing annoyance.  Suddenly working on images is fun again. When I got finished processing the big TIFFs for the magazine, I changed the files to look all faded and vintagey, as you see here. For funs. Because I felt like it. It's not that I'm using their presets for vintage (although I think they have one, it's just not that look I wanted).  But I have more speed and the new adjustment and filtering tools in Aperture. Home run. Score! And, lots of other sports metaphors.

H2 Ohhhhhhhhhh

So, a magazine asked me to photograph an accomplished MIT hydrogeologist, preferably in some water.  I thought-bingo!- those crazy monsoon rains battering us last week were so in my favor.

you have to keep in mind the water is cold. very cold. he should be wincing.

My subject suggested we go out to the Great Meadows National Wildlife Refuge, where a walkway normally crosses a  full open pond. Except, the pond is so full, it has taken over the parking lot.

 

Ok, what care we?  It's water.  We are there for water. We wade in. First on the rocks, then straight in.

Our subject puts on waders, I'd asked him to go waist deep, he's game. My asst and I roll up our jeans and follow to stay close, on the edge of where the scientist steps down to chest level.  Fabulous! Sun, blue sky, good natured professor.  We take out  strobes and shoot some fill, handing them back & forth above the water. Joking, heh heh about electrocuting the marine life if we fumble  and the HV pack goes  into the pond. But we really don't need the juice. The gold reflector is perfect.
Seeing as I like a low angle,  I squat down, just grazing the water.  I hear a splash.  Right near my pocket. My compact flash card wallet, taking a dive 2 feet down.  Nooooooooo!  Filled with 10 compact flash cards.

No lost images from this shoot , they were all in the camera on a large card but, still, that's a lot of sodden gigs. Having an MIT hydrogeologist (dude knows water) advise me to soak them in rubbing alcohol and then seal them in a bag with dry rice was, if not reassuring, at least a plan.

And it took my mind off this fella, who first joined us on a rock.

And then hissing at us, in the water.

Moral of the story: if you have an asst who is over 6 feet tall carrying a secure bag for you into water, place the compact flash wallet in his care. Also: watch out for snakes.