I
do not claim to be the world's best photographer. I have spent years
learning and teaching others, but I will never claim to know
everything about my craft. I shared a blog recently about being
humbled and shaken when a peer gave a scathing comment on my request
for advice, and I still find myself looking at work sometimes saying
“I should have moved just a smidgen to the right” or “I wish I
waited just a second longer so his eyes would be slightly more
relaxed from the last flash”. These are the worries and thoughts
of a typical photographer, and may have been distilled perfectly in a
quote a fellow photographer made in a forum I was once reading:
A
GOOD DAY FOR ME IS REMEMBERING TO POINT THE CAMERA IN THE RIGHT
DIRECTION.
This
is a man who has his work in Vogue, Elle, and a million other places
I can just hope to achieve in my lifetime. But his words have more
meaning when you think about how a photographer is actually doing
their client a service by freezing a moment in time.
Expression
is huge, but only lasts a second. Shock and joy on the groom's face
as his bride comes into view, or that warm candid moment when the
Mother-of-the-Groom gives her son a kiss with tears rolling down her
cheeks because he is all grown up; these are all something you can
only capture just as they happen. These are true moments of candid
photography. I need to be on my toes every moment at a a shoot so
that I can capture the perfect image.
Perhaps
even more so than weddings, working with children requires almost
inhuman speed and attention to detail. I am talking about this
because it will be a vital part of my shooting tomorrow and is
weighing on my mind. Tomorrow is my son's cake smash sitting. Cake
smash photography is a quickly growing avenue for child centered
studios because of the honesty and silliness it embodies. To make it
simple, a toddler is placed on a bare backdrop with a cake or cupcake
in front of them and the photographer documents the following chaos.
I
was introduced to the idea while working for a chain studio that
absolutely forbid it because they kept a strict policy against food
in the camera room. When I moved on the the studio chain, where I
was responsible for training newer photographers, it was something
very warmly welcomed. Now
that my own studio is open, I am more than open to doing this kind of
work and will soon begin looking for a local bakery to coordinate our
efforts.
My
son is a perfect test subject for the studio. He is constantly in my
advertising and I have begun to market him out to infant and toddler
talent agents because his aptitude for brilliance in the camera room
could honestly make him a good deal of money to put aside for
college. I also use him to test out new concepts and techniques,
something I do often in an attempt to grow as an artist... but as a
mother I am facing some worry that I will dislike the results.
What
I want to do is really intensify the images tomorrow by choosing a
stark white backdrop and a bold shade of blue-green for his cake.
Next is where I am reaching my point of tension, because it is a huge
risk as well. What I want to do is use a very tight depth of field
and play with a slight distortion in focus. My goal is to change how
we see the moment and bring out the “dirty” part of the
experience.
Unfortunately,
cake-smash is the kind of photography where one cannot simply “reset
and try again”. The child's reaction will inherently be different
because they understand that they have absolute freedom in that
moment. As a mother, I want these images to be something my family
can cherish just as much as myself. As an artist, I want to take
advantage of this ideal opportunity to advance my skills as a
photographer.
I
will make the executive decision tomorrow as my husband places our
boy on the subject mark. Once I can review the images I will post a
selection and allow the results to be seen. But for tonight all I
can do is take the advice of my photography hero and just hope that
“my camera is pointed in the right direction”.
