Lighting

BMW Northwest Life cover shoot

I love editorial photography. The work is creative, the subjects are interesting, and the conditions are unpredictable. You just never know how it’s going to go, so you have to be ready to let go of preconceived notions and roll with the punches. Those punches can come in many forms. Sometimes the punch is that the subject can only give you ten minutes instead of the hour you thought you had. Sometimes it’s a sudden rain shower, or a broken strobe, or a bored security guard. Whatever it is, you have to take it in stride, figure it out, and move forward.

In this case, the punch was a car. The cover of the magazine was to be an environmental portrait of Manfred Scharmach, owner of BMW Northwest, with his gorgeous 1939 BMW 327/28. Full disclosure, I don’t know anything about cars. I can fill the gas tank and change a tire, and I know you don’t want frozen wiper fluid lines on a cross country road trip in the dead of winter, but that’s about it. I do appreciate a beautiful design when I see it though, and this car shook the Dick Tracy loving child in me wide awake.

In our conversations about the cover image, Lori Randall (Randall PR) had in mind a rural setting—trees, sky, maybe even some water somehow. We’d picked several spots near the dealership to scout ahead of time and I checked them out on Google’s street view. On the morning of the shoot, Lori and I and Uly, my assistant, visited a couple locations and picked our favorite: a grassy lot with trees in the background, very Pacific Northwest. By the time we’d be shooting, the sun would be in just the right spot for a late morning rim light. Plans!

So back to the punch: the car wouldn’t start, and there was no way to get it from the storage garage to the location we’d chosen. While Manfred kicked himself for not trying the car the week before, we looked for another option. Lori adjusted to the situation brilliantly, and we all quickly agreed that the wall of the garage was perfect. It didn’t say rural, of course, but its two-tone paint scheme echoed the car’s and once the BMW was pushed halfway along the building to the right spot, the background was beautifully broken up by the shadow of a tree. I knew the sun on Manfred would be a problem and we were ready to break out the scrim to deal with it, but once the strobe with the octabank was in place, it acted as a flag and did the job for us.

We shot away and Manfred did a wonderful job of letting go of his frustration. In the end, Lori and I were both super happy, especially given the circumstances. The results were objectively great and the shot even looks intentional. It wasn’t what any of us had envisioned, but sometimes that’s how it goes. Curveballs! Isn’t photography fun?

BMW Northwest Life magazine with location portrait of Manfred Scharmach on the cover.

Jewish in Seattle: Oscar Olivier

It was a privilege to photograph Oscar Olivier for Jewish in Seattle late last year.  He is a refugee from the Congo and an inspiring figure, and if you have a moment, you should really do his story justice by reading the excellent article by Emily Alhadeff. We made this portrait in Des Moines, where he lives.  Neomi, the art director, wanted something that looked dramatic but we didn't have a location and the weather wasn't cooperating.  It was a mighty bright, happy day outside (albeit still chilly—note the very stylish cardigan).

So we hit the beach—can't go wrong with water and a good sky as your background—and utilizing a little day-for-night camera and lighting trickery, we made it look a bit more moody.  I was really pleased with the result.  Below is my favorite image, along with Neomi's select as it appeared in the magazine.

Life imitates art

I shot the image below very recently, and I kind of love it.  The model, a really charming kid named Derek, was an absolute pleasure and sat very patiently while my super talented makeup artist Erika Seward did her work with him.  He actually was pretty delighted with how rough he looked when she was finished, as I'm sure I would have been.

We shot at Derek's home with a borrowed bunny and stun gun.  The bunny's name is Mr. Thumps, and yes, of course the electricity leaping between the contacts on the stun gun was made in Photoshop.  I know better than to hand an 11-year-old a stun gun with the battery in it, thank you very much.

The photo is awfully funny to me on its own, but I think it's made even more entertaining by the story that came out of Portland shortly after I shot it.  Seems a 22-pound house cat attacked a family, forcing them to dial 911 from their locked bedroom.  No kidding.  To be fair, though, it does sound to me like the family had it coming.  The baby started it all by pulling the cat's tail, which earned him a blood-drawing swipe to the forehead.  Then the mom's boyfriend kicked the cat away, and that apparently is where things really went off the rails.

Me, I just enjoy it when I shoot something that turns out to be timely.

For those interested, the photo was lit with a 4-foot by 6-foot softbox from camera left to mimic daylight through a window.  A silver bounce to camera right filled in shadows a bit, and I used a smaller box from 3/4 rear, camera left, for a rim light.  Camera was set at ISO 100, f/5.6 at 1/60 sec.

Blood Squad!

I don't really enjoy horror movies, but...I have been a fan of the improv comedy group Blood Squad for years—since early 2007, I think.  They're straight-up amazing, and I don't say this of many things, but I couldn't enjoy them more even if squirrels were involved.  (I really get a kick out of squirrels.)  The next time you're in Seattle, if you have the good fortune of timing your visit during one of their runs, you should really make good on that opportunity. Blood Squad consists of founding members Elicia Wickstead and Brandon Felker—both longtime improv performers and instructors—as well as Molly Arkin and newcomer Jon Axell.  All four are incredibly talented and together form an improv group quite literally unlike any you've ever seen.  Blood Squad builds their funny out of the horror movie genre(!), and they do it in a long-form improv format.  That means that at the start of each performance, the group takes a suggestion from the audience for a horror movie that's never been made (say, "Killer Prom at Murder High" or the very festive "Santa Claus Your Face Off"), and then they just...go.  And not for a series of short sketches, like ten minutes at a time, but for an entire show running somewhere in the neighborhood of 75 uninterrupted minutes.  Each group member invents several characters to play, and every one of them enjoys a full story arc during the course of the performance.  They narrate character, set, title, and action descriptions from the improvised "script", and when the time comes, they off themselves and each other in the most graphic (yet not) ways they can dream up.  It's all done without sets, props, costumes, or anything else typically associated with theater or film, though they do usually have a guest at the side of the stage performing improvised mood music during key moments.  It's the kind of thing that's hard enough to do without worrying about being funny, and these guys are effortlessly hysterical.  Every.  Time.  I swear I never get tired of watching them pretend to kill each other, and seriously, I can't recommend them more.

I think it was in 2007 that I introduced myself and asked if photography was of interest to them in their promotions.  They had been using, and would continue to use, brilliant illustration and design work done by local artists Devin Sheridan and Alex Thomas.  That worked really well because the shows in each of their runs are unified by a single horror sub-genre (summer camp slasher, haunted house, psycho hillbilly, zombie, etc.), and Devin and Alex would draw up a poster for each theme.  It worked so well, frankly, that I actually wondered if they'd be interested in having photography.  It was decided, though, that promotional images of the actual group would be good too, and so it happened that Blood Squad and I collaborated a little later in the year.  That's when we came up with the morgue headshots below, which I still love today.

With a new official group member and the departure of Michael, Elicia got in touch in September and asked about the possibility of doing a new shoot to reflect the changes.  The idea this time was to photograph them in the woods somewhere, near dusk or at night, with the four of them emerging or having already emerged from a grave.  They'd look dashing and done up, yet still bruised and battered (beautifully done by hair and makeup artist Jana Hutchison), and looking either annoyed and inconvenienced or simply non-plussed and blasé about the situation.  I liked the concept a lot, but it was clear right away it wasn't the kind of thing we could just casually shoot.  More on that shortly, but first, here's the final image:

If you're interested in reading about the production of the shot, then by all means read on.  If not, have a great day and don't forget to see Blood Squad.  Their next show is at the Balagan Theater at 8pm on December 22nd.  Be there.

So, when Elicia presented the idea to me and asked if it was do-able, I did the same thing I always do (the same thing any photographer does, frankly) when asked to do a shoot that poses problems not encountered before.  I said, "Sure, absolutely, totally" and then set about figuring out how to do it.

As is often the case, one of the first things to sort out is finding the right location.  We wanted something that appeared remote but wasn't.  We wanted trees, but we also needed a good amount of open, uncluttered ground.  In my mind I had this idea that they were buried on the crest of a hill that looked out over nothing but wilderness, and that they stood out against this dark and sort of ominous sky.  I was sure such a place existed but had no idea where to find it, and knew that wherever it was, it was likely to be far enough removed from Seattle city limits that shooting there wouldn't be practical anyway.  And who knew if we'd get good clouds on the day of the shoot?  Pretty much right away I struck the possibility of finding a perfect location that had everything.  What made the most sense to me was finding a suitable foreground (one with trees, open space, and a clear horizon line) that I could drop in front of a totally new background of mountains, trees and sky, which I would shoot later. Seattle's Woodland Park was a no-brainer to check out (although honestly I wish I'd thought of it a little sooner), and it did in fact have a great spot with scattered medium-size trees and lots of bare earth.  Well, almost bare—there was the small, half-hour matter of raking away several inches of fallen leaves.  When I saw it, though, I knew.  If I were going to bury someone, or four someones, I'd definitely do it there.  Here it is, in a photo taken after a brisk raking.  Yes, that's a dog park in the background.

You might notice a couple changes I made to the foreground in Photoshop, namely the removal of the two trees on the right.  Behind and to the left of the main foreground tree is another tree just barely peeking out, which I also removed because it was visually confusing.  To the right of the main foreground tree is another, slimmer tree that I nudged left a little bit so it would frame Brandon and Molly a little better.  And then I copied the main foreground tree, reversed it, and put it in the far right of the frame to balance out the composition. The background image of the trees and sky I found while scouting in Sand Point.  At the top of a residential street, I could stand on my poor car's roof and shoot a clean skyline above the houses.

I darkened the sky, of course, and flipped the image horizontally.  The reason for the flip was to make the light part of the sky line up more closely with the rim lights on the Blood Squad members, as though a setting sun were creating them.  I had to carve up the background a bit and shuffle pieces of it around, hiding the seams behind the trees in the foreground image.  That was necessary to make the treeline coexist with everybody in the shot, and not intersect in a distracting way behind anyone.  I also made the treeline dip down behind Elicia so her broken shoe would stand out against the sky.

After location, the second issue was the nighttime nature of the shot.  You're not going to have an easy time shooting something like this if you actually try to do it at night because, well, all your light is gone.  Duh.  When every last bit of natural light is gone, you're left to bring any and all the light that you want and to try to work in the dark, which doesn't work very well at all.  To do it at night would mean filling in considerable shadows and dimly lighting a pretty large area, and good luck with that without big lights on lifts.  The simple(r) answer is to shoot during the day, and manipulate the color and density later to make it look like late evening.  Here's the shot with all the shading, but without the nighttime color layer.

I went with the Profoto 7B for lighting.  I love my Paul Buff Einstein monolights, which I use for most things and would have used for this, were it not for the fact that I needed more output than their 640WS.  I lit everyone from camera right with a four-foot octobank at the top of a rather high stand, and used a softbox from camera right, about three-quarter rear, for a rim light.  The ambient light from the afternoon sun filled it all in.

Opting to shoot in a park meant the hole in the ground would be a problem too.  I didn't want to dig a hole in a public park without asking but at the same time, I didn't much want to ask, either.  It didn't seem like a lot of good could come from that, so it made more sense to me to shoot Jon elsewhere.  We laid some dirt down on the ground at the park to make a burial mound, photographed that, and then after shooting outside moved the party to my studio.  Jon was great, and ran through a series of expressions and actions that were as entertaining as they were varied.  Really, just the kind of model you want.  Here's an outtake showing the studio setup for the hole shot:

I copied the camera angle and lighting from the outdoor shot as closely as possible, using the same high octobank and softbox rim.  To Jon's right, camera left, was a 4x8 sheet of white foamcore to do what the sun was doing, just filling in the shadows.  The foamcore behind him was only there to make it easier to cut him out in Photoshop.  It's the same idea with the dirt he's leaning on—it makes blending him into the scene a world simpler. I photographed Molly and Elicia in the studio as well.  Shooting them on location was worth trying, and we did, but it was cold at the park and the soft ground made it difficult for them to stand in heels.  It wasn't a problem.  I'd kind of figured we'd need to shoot them inside anyway so we had budgeted time for that.  Like Jon, I cut them out, placed them into the scene, and drew reasonable shadows behind them.  Obviously, it's difficult to overstate the importance of shadows when you're doing this kind of thing.  If you get them wrong, or worse yet don't add them at all, you've lost.  See what I mean?

And that's pretty much it for the broad strokes.  The rest was mostly detailing, because I'm kind of detail-oriented.  The smoke was added in Photoshop by blending a couple smoke brushes I found online.  I also added the color to the end of Brandon's Nat Sherman cigarette with a Hue/Saturation layer set to Colorize, not necessarily because I think it shows up, but because it was the right thing to do.  It only takes a second.

I broke the heel on Elicia's shoe in Photoshop.  Also, the shoe was entirely black on the inside, and while it was still clear she was holding a shoe, it didn't read immediately the way I wanted it to.  I added a liner, which I think looks way better.

It's a lot of work but I actually enjoy the process as much as the result.  Visualizing a concept, breaking it down, solving it, photographing it, and bringing the elements together over a cup of tea and some good music (a lot of Rolling Stones and Black Keys for this one) on a rainy November day is definitely my idea of a good time.  Big thanks to Blood Squad for being amazing, and for coming back and giving me this project to chew on.  It was a blast, and I'm already looking forward to the next one.

General Powell will see you now, but you'll have to make it quick.

General Colin Powell recently paid a visit to Seattle for a number of interviews and a large public appearance as part of a tour to promote his new book, It Worked For Me: In Life And Leadership.  If you live in town, perhaps you saw the billboards.  I confess I haven't read the book yet but if the reviews on Amazon are to be believed, it's an inspiring and insightful read.  I'll wait a while to get my copy though, because I have a difficult time with hardcover.  They're just hard to travel with, and personally, I like to be able to bend back a book's cover.  You can hold a paperback in one hand pretty easy that way, and you free up the other to reach for your glass of bourbon, or squeeze that stress ball, or scratch your pug's stomach or what have you.  What you're doing with that other hand isn't really the point.  The point is, Colin Powell was coming to Seattle and I had been asked to photograph him. To be tasked with photographing someone as accomplished and outstanding as General Powell is really an honor.  From his rise in military rank from a second lieutenant to a four-star general, and in his roles as Secretary of State, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, National Security Advisor (during which time he developed an impersonation of Reagan that's dead-on, by the way) and more, he's been serving the country one way or another for more than fifty years and he's had my respect and admiration since I became aware of him during my high school days.  In making a portrait with him, it was important to me to strike upon a look that evinced certain qualities I associated with him—chief among them strength, thoughtfulness, confidence and calm.  As a side note, of further importance to me was speaking at least somewhat intelligently in his presence—in complete sentences, even—and to try and keep my palms from sweating when I shook his hand.  But I suppose those goals were less pressing in the grand scheme.  Getting a good portrait always matters most, and if I'm unable to keep myself from slippery hands and caveman grunts, well, so be it.

Going into the shoot, I didn't have much nailed down.  I was aware I'd be photographing him in a hotel conference suite, but prior to my arrival I didn't know which one.  Unsure of how visually appealing the room would be (not very, as it turned out), I decided the day before that I'd only go for some kind of environmental shot if by some miracle the place looked fantastic.  Assuming it wouldn't, I opted for a high-key portrait using just two lights.  The room didn't fail to disappoint—it was almost aggressively uninteresting, like...well, like a hotel conference suite.  Or that pointless movie Oliver Stone made about The Doors.  But that was fine; I was happy with and ready for a high-key shot.  Preferred it, actually.

The other question I had going in was about the available room—not, like, which room was available, but how much room was available.  I didn't know if there would be a lot of open space (what a shock, there wasn't!), or if there would be a huge table in the middle of the room (surprise, there was!).  So I decided ahead of time that I would keep my setup as small and simple as possible, just in case.  My footprint took up only about fifty square feet—photographer, lights, subject and all—and I still had to move furniture out of the way.  I didn't use white seamless paper behind him, or fabric, or a pop-up background, or anything you might commonly use in a studio as a white background because all those things would have taken more stands and a lot more space than I could reasonably expect to have.  Instead, I used a four-foot softbox aimed at the camera, and asked General Powell to stand in front of it.  It's a pretty good way to get a high-key headshot when you don't have much area in which to work.  It's also very quick to set up, which is good for situations like this, where the time between your entry into the room and the arrival of the subject is very short.

Not knowing what your surroundings will be like is nothing unusual, of course, since you never really know exactly what you're walking into on any shoot.  There are always plenty of things that are up in the air, things you can't know about until you show up but that you nevertheless try to plan for.  That's the nature of being a photographer, and to a great extent, the fun of it too—not knowing what challenges you'll run into or what you'll come up with for solutions.  I don't generally view these uncertainties as an obstacle.  But this shoot was a little different for me in that one thing I did know for sure was that I wouldn't have very much time with the person I was photographing.  Practically none, actually, and almost certainly less time than I've ever had with anyone before.  Colin Powell is obviously a very busy man, and had a lot on his plate during his brief time in town (in fact, he'd already run a gauntlet of seven interviews that day before he made his way to me).  I understood that my sliver of time was sandwiched tightly between two other appointments, so I knew there'd be no time to significantly alter the set once he showed up and that it would therefore be necessary to have the lights positioned and dialed in as perfectly as possible.

To that end, I ran a quick light test in the studio with my assistant Jonathan the night before.  I knew General Powell wore glasses, but I also knew that they were rimless and as such weren't likely to cast terrible shadows.  I was actually more concerned about seeing the reflection of my light in his lenses, so I chose to use my beauty dish with a 15° grid.  The light would stay soft, and the grid would go a long way to keep the inside of the dish from showing up as a reflection.  I got the lights positioned where they needed to be, and found the output ratios I wanted.  After recording the light settings and the distances of the stands from Jonathan, there was just one more thing to figure out.  I got online with Google on my phone and punched in "how tall is colin powell".  It's weird what you can find out on the internet.  Colin Powell, according to Google, is 6'2".  So I figured the difference between Jonathan's height and General Powell's (about four inches), and added it to the height of the light stands to determine how tall I'd need to set them the next day.

The shoot itself was a pleasure, albeit a very brief one.  It was later than expected when he finally got to me, which I feared but expected, so my short amount of time with him had gotten even shorter.  After a quick test shot, I decided to drag the key light toward me just a couple inches, and then I started in.  I hardly shot much at all, just enough to know I had a few keepers before thanking him and letting him hurry to his next engagement.  All totaled, I don't think I spent more than three minutes with him.  I have to say, though, I couldn't have hoped for him to be a better portrait subject.  I didn't give a ton of direction but the few things I did ask—stand facing this way, head to the left a little...lips closed...now chin down...whoops, no no, that's too much—he did without objection or complaint.  And not just without complaint, but with a sense of humor even; at one point he cracked a couple self-effacing jokes about his appearance.  Anyway, speaking of the way he looked, I've typed long enough—here are a couple of photos from the shoot.