I've been shot!
Jul. 27th, 2008 08:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
parasitegirlThe last few days have been so full that it is hard for me to know where to start when talking about the photo shoot. I know that I need to write about it. This time my audience is wider than usual. On Bhuz are a cadre of international dancers who have followed my fire costume alterations and would like to know the current status of said costume, my usual blog readers are also out there, and there are those on facebook who have recently read my tale on the before mentioned fire costume. With a wide range of potential readers, some of my post will cover familiar ground to make sure we're on on the same page. I also blog for myself, so that I can review the events and learn for my next shoot.
When I know not where to begin, I default to the body.
I awoke this morning to took stock of my body. I am sore. My week involved 24 classes of teaching kabaddi, one jazz dance class, one restaurant performance, and ended with a photoshoot on Saturday. My sore muscle are cumulative damage. The last photo shoot I had with the Tokyo group was physically intense and left me with two pulled muscles and the inability to walk up and down stairs for a few days. This shoot was less strenuous, but it has left its mark.
A while back I wrote about watching a burlesque performance by belly dancers. Because belly dance can bruise and scratch you up (the moves that bruise, the costume that catch) dancers who cross-over into burlesque really need to do scratch and dent checks and cover bruises and cuts before they dress up to strip down. This morning, as I showered after watching the latest So You Think You Can Dance, my thoughts turned to how bruised up those dancers must also be. As much as any one of them would be a treat to see naked, they'd also be a fascination of bruises. All those stunning shots we love of nude dancers and olympic athletes must be seriously photoshopped/ burned and dodged to remove the evidence of what work it takes to get those bodies and perform those feats.
Out of the shower I put my glasses on and did my own spot check. I left the shoot with cuts on my fingers and the early stages of knee bruising. I have no clue where the cuts came from, but I remember noticing that one finger was bleeding when I changed costumes. I know where the knee bruises came from. Those are normal. I had done some staged Zar in the shoot. For non-dancers, Zar is a type of trance-inducing movement, usually performed to drumming music on one's knees while flinging of the head and hair. Zar grows in intensity and can end in total surrender and collapse. I call what I did staged because in a shoot situation with tight time, there is no time to really get deep into a Zar state. It had to be acted instead of achieved....and frankly I think my photographers would have been a bit concerned if I did anything that ended in my own collapse. My staged Zar no doubt started the bruises, but the bruises came fully to life in my second costume when, as I dropped to the floor, I landed on my knees onto a beaded section of my costume. Instant bruising, followed by more floor work prompted by questions like "Can you do that, on your knees, with the back bend...but also coming around with the veil?" Seriously, when I get asked questions like that I honestly wonder if I can, and always try.
I bruised, but the bruising is less brutal than what I have come home from floor-work intensive classes with.
The only other damage I could feel or see was a sore neck from the whipping motion of a quickly entered Zar and a small scratch on my abdomen only remarkable due to the contrast my intense whiteness provides.
All in all, I was doing pretty well.
The cumulative damage of my week of teaching kabaddi lessons impacted the amount of non-costume related prep I was able to put into my photo shoot. There is part of me that would like a do-over on the shoot, just because I realize how much better prepared I could have been for it.
At the start of this week I would come home, exhausted, with only energy enough to tweak the last touches on my just finished fire-bedlah renovations and the matching pants and accessories I made for it. I was narrowing down my other costumes via the passive means of putting a poll on my blog and some thinking. What I should have been doing, but didn't, was to start earlier in thinking about specific shots/poses/moods I wanted from each costume and choosing the right music to bring those movements and expressions out of me.
The right music is essential. It doesn't always have to be bellydance music, but it usually is. In my blog I have written about my personal struggle to get comfortable in front of a camera. In art school when I dabbled with photography I did a lot of self portraits, I had a very CIndy Sherman phase for years, but I was never comfortable modeling for other people. My mother has a series of me treating her like a mad paparazzi in a variety of countries and what she calls "my daughter's backpacks through our travels in Asia" The idea of striking a pose freezes me up. I hate it.
My first dance related photo shoot (which took place near the end of last year) was shot by local photographer Nam and styled by Momo. I knew I needed shots for publicity and cards and spared no expense in getting my photographer and stylist. The shoot resulted in some stunning shots. It started at 11PM and took 5 hours and wore me the hell out. I credit the lovely results more to Nam and Momo than my own ability to project to the camera. I also think that I had fully thought about what "look" I wanted to convey in each shot (iconographic 60's dancer for my first costume and flowing but earthy movement for my second ). Still, there was more than one point in the process in which I wanted to just cry.
My first photoshoot blog entry.
Then, when I traveled to San Francisco for the holidays I sent an email to Michael Baxter about if he could fit me into his busy end of the year photography schedule. I flew with only one costume, not knowing if he could to it, but knowing I needed a photos that represented my more jazz-fusion style with Balkan fusion music. I had my appropriate music on my iPod and had also packed the make-up I would need for the look I imagined.
Michael fit me in and my mother tagged along to see what ended up being a shoot that sprawled into a 12 hour experience. Some of that time was filled by other dancers coming, getting shot, and then returning to me...and my own prep in doing my own hair and make-up. He even called a local costumer ( Geisha Moth) to bring over more costumes to me to shoot in.
Michael was a breakthrough for me. We started out shooting tight and limiting the space I could move in, and I quickly exhibited my pose-oriented ticks and freeze-ups. Once more, I wanted to cry. I wanted to tag out and head home early.
We then decided to light the whole studio for a performance, and Michael switched to the camera he uses for live performance. I was able to go full speed: jumps, kicks, and all. Balkan music isn't restrained and nor am I when I dance to it. To photograph me doing poses to that music doesn't represent who I am as a dancer, to photograph me in all my silly faced power spins get it.
In clicked in my brain. I can do photo shoots, but I need to get into the mental headspace of being a performer and just perform the fuck out of it. I'm not an actor. I am not a model. I am a dancer. And as a dancer, I am an entertainer. I rarely have stage fright and really enjoy performing for an audience. When I practice at home I always imagine an audience and try to practice with my whole body (face included) holding some awareness of the people outside of me.
Mid-day Michael and I shot more "sexy loungy" shots of me...so I know that I can pose...but that it needs to be a while into the shoot so that I have physically broken through my camera discomfort and am fully present as a performer.
The Baxter Experience blog
Back in Tokyo in 2008, I came across an ad in Metropolis magazine asking for models and performers for photoshoots, Model time would be swapped for images. I was dubious, but encouraged by the fact that they were stressing "performers" and seemed to be looking for a range of people, not just models. This is what I wanted. More experience with cameras that didn't involve me forking out money. I emailed them, describing who I am as a performer and including images from past shoots. Their leader, Tim, got back to me within a day and was enthusiastic about bringing me into his fold of artists. We hit it off via email and I went to visit the studio in a few weeks.
They are a collective of rotating photographers (some more regular than others) and one make-up artist. They all want more time with equipment and models and to spend less money on renting studio spaces by splitting time and cost.. The size and cost of space in Tokyo is what you'd imagine. Photographers here are very resourceful with what they can get, but I suspect they have pornographic discussions about what they could do if they only had more space and time.
I did my first shoot with them in early February, a week after I had done a wonderful charity event with the Afet Collective while recovering from food poisoning, and a week before I started doing my regular Friday night 8:30 gig at Anatolia, Shibuya.....so I never properly blogged about the first shoot....although I posted pictures galore!
It was wonderful.
I was the only model that day, so we were not crunched for time. Lack of a time crunch meant that things could unfold fairly organically as we tried, discussed, and tried some more. There was time for me to get into my performance brain. There was time for the four artists to shoot, reflect, and ask "could we do this, but with that veil and you doing..." Tim, was able to introduce a few new toys to play with (this circular light/flash thingy) and even change things up 100% for art shots in which I was backlit on a blue set for some amazing silluhette shots and fun with a powerful fan. Of course,the expanse of time meant that I performed a whole lot, focusing on dynamic moves that photograph well. It was when we shot the third costume that, while dropping down to my knees throwing my veil up...again and again...that I pulled a muscle in each thigh.
What would I have done differently for that shoot? I would have hemmed my Geisha Moth pants prior to shooting and not done such a crappy job straight ironing my hair...otherwise I would have done almost everything the same. In this last week the memories of that set-up combined with my own flagging energy lulled me into a false sense of how much I needed to prepare. I focused on the costumes, hoping that the rest would happen as seamlessly as it had the last time.
Thursday night I finalized my costume, bling, and veil choices. I pulled everything out, packing what I could. I paired the fire set with a red velvet skirt and set it aside for the restaurant on Friday. I decided to use the same music for the restaurant that I'd used the week before, due to a lack of time to change things up.
When I got home from work late Friday afternoon, the last thing I wanted to do was dance. I wanted to sleep for a few days. I put on my make-up and shook out my hair, checked my bag, and headed into Shibuya on the 6:45 train from my station. I arrived a little before 8, warmed up, chatted with the owner and then got ready for my set.
I got home around 10, showered, and set to ironing my veils for the next day.
The next morning I dragged myself out of bed. Photoshoot day! I hadn't slept well. I haven't slept well in weeks and weeks. I haven't had time to figure out why.
I tried on two skirts with my fire-set. I had two main ideas for the fire set: Capture motion and fun in the red flares and do some zar shots in which I seem to be rising up from a fire puddle of cloth. I'd been planning to use an orangey-firey silk skirt for the second idea, but the color was slightly off. A cheap red satin skirt I had worked better, but had been poorly hemmed by the previous owner and was all lengths. I did a quick serger hem job, and more ironing, and packed it. In an ideal world I would have used red silk.
I now realize that the fire set had consumed my thought process in regards to poses and looks. I had neglected to plan as well for the other two costumes (a crazy animal-lycra costume and my homemade sleek black and green poppy costume). It was the day of the shoot and I was just getting around to pulling my music...and didn't have time to really to think to myself "I want these sorts of shots, so I need this sort of mood to really project that..."
I had thought about my make-up for the fire costume, a little, but wish that I had brought some idea clippings for the make-up artist or the other looks.
No time! No time! Drink two espressos at home, and get a black coffee for the train. It's time to get on the 11:30 train into Harajuku! GO!
When I got there I realized that I wasn't the only model for the day. Put that in the file of things to ask about before hand. We'd be shooting three people in the same time frame we shot me last time ( myself, a female model, a male actor?/model) and 2-3 looks per person (the last one being a time consuming surfer pose on board one for the guy) so the unfolding of the shoot was radically different from what I'd experienced before. White backgrounds for all involved for maximum versatility.
Two of the photographers were the same, Lars and Nathan...both very sweet and yet professional.
Lars
Nathan
Tim
Nathan has been my favorite photographer thus far, followed immediately by Lars, and I was happy to work with them again. Tim was the same ebuliant-yet quirky spirit, quick with the wit and complements. The photographers know how to make me feel well loved and comfortable. I think part of it is that I can relate to clusters of photographers in the same way I related to art school classmates in collaborative or critique situations, I have a mental frame of reference.
There was a new boy in the photo ranks, who was jokingly warned to watch what he said to me because of my blogging habits, and Ellen, a fellow vegetarian who I enjoyed chatting with and performing for. And look at me...bloging. They know me.
When I think of photographers as peer artists, my mind relaxes. When I think of myself as a "model", my brain freezes. I have confidence in myself as a performer, but the idea of myself as a model still blows my mind. I wonder when the gig will be up, when my inability to pose will be unmasked, and I'll have to go home. I'm not an insecure person, but these thoughts do occur to me.
Shooting with models/actors who had very clear sense of what they needed and how to ask for it made my own lack of preparation hit me. Past the idea of "shots in these costumes" and my ideas about the fire costume...I was a little lost. I knew I could perform and get passible shots, but I lacked direction. Without a time crunch there would have been more chance to shot, look, react, and suggest.
I winged it.
My first costume of the day would be the fire costume...as the photoshoot in some ways marked the culmination of my two week costume alteration spree. I got my face done, giving the artist the direction of "firey" and "about this close to being drag queen". I didn't question the lack of false eyelashes or heavy eyeliner (which had been part of the last shoot, and indeed are part of my life every Friday. It looked good, a little sharp in the mouth shape, but good. I think the fact that I am now doing elaborate make-up every Friday has made me more particular about what works on my face...but more on this later.
I changed into my fire costume and flares, put my hair up, and popped on my first set of false nails....and then put on my zills (finger cymbals). The morning of the shoot I had decided to grab my zills because I have no pictures of myself playing them. Since I started doing my regular restaurant gig and using the zills every time I perform there, they have become a stronger part of who I am as a dancer. The legacy of my crazy first teacher and her inability to zill ( and my resulting fear and loathing of the things) has vanished.
Now, I hadn't thought about the two difficult issues that zills bring with them to a shoot: zill face and zill arms. Until a dancer gets good and comfortable with zills they are apt to be plagued with both of these. As bellydancers well know, zill face is the look of pained happiness/half-masked concentration that comes from trying play music while you dance. You know you need to make it look effortless, but early zill time is not effortless. Zill arms are what happen when your general body awareness is syphoned off by needing to be aware of the mechanics of playing finger cymbals with the music....anytime your brain has to go to one part of your body you risk loosing posture and awareness of the whole. Zill work in tech early stages often leaves arms in odd chicken wing shapes and kills even the nicest arm lines by by ending this lines in zill claws with flopped or tense wrists.
Still, I had music I could get into and I zilled and hoped for the best.
I am unable to pretend to play the zills....that freezes me up, so I played and danced.
I had warmed up, but I had not gone through the mental warm-ups I do before performances nowadays (focusing my energy, visually imagining a solid performance, thinking positively about my skills as a dancer...) and I regret that, I think skipping that step cost me minutes of getting into my music. The photographer in charge of keeping us on schedule signaled that it was costume/model change time.
Because I had only done zill/movement shots and some face shots, and had done none of the shots I had imagined of myself in the fireset and skirt, I asked to get a bit more camera time. I rushed into my skirt, not even unpinning my pants from my belt. I changed the music, got down on my knees, whipped away, and we got some good shots. It was then that it clicked that I needed to come with more ideas and not just passively rely on the photographer's feedback for ideas. I came with that idea and it had worked, but now it was time for the next model and for me to get gussied up in a costume I refer to as "The Junkman's Sexy Daughter." It's a crazy sexy lycra costume I bought off the Bhuz swap meet. It has it all: animal print, flower print, swirls, braided spandex, and random bling. It is a horror when off a body and insanely sensual on one.
The Junkman's Sexy Daughter is where my lack of preparation bit me in the ass.
This is where I grow hesitant to post this on facebook, because I know that my photographers will probably read it and feel that I did not enjoy myself. I assure you that I did enjoy the shoot, but that my own lack of experience resulted in things I was displeased with that could have easily been in my control.
I interrupted the actor who was getting tribal face paint and flames on his nipples (who would be shot last in the surfer set-up) for my make-up re-touch (the actor could return to getting painted as I was being shot). I said I wanted something that sort of said "wild and sexy" the artist said "dark browns and golds and such?" and I agreed.
The results...weren't that pleasing to me. As I said, over the last year I have really grown in my make-up skills and savvy. Every week I am putting on the false lashes and doing the sort of dramatic stage/dark restaurant make-up that is similar to photoshoot levels of thickness and drama. I have done my own make-up for a shoot before. Still, I am somewhat cowed by make-up experts and thus didn't question him, assuming that he knew better than I.
I don't blame the make-up artist and am hesitant to write this for fear it will get back to him in a bad way. I take responsibility for this, through my passivity and my lack of preparation. He's not familiar with bellydance and I think he interpreted it to be more dramatic-theatrical than dramatic-beauty. My first flame costume and my drag queen comment couldn't have helped. If I had come with a specific vision and some clear reference photos I don't think he would have done the make-up that he did. Even without those items, I should have spoken up and said "Can I get some more dramatic eyeliner to really bring out my eyes, maybe false eyelashes, and can we change this lip shape from it's sharp points to a more plump/full shape? Thank you." Part of not being a model for me is that fact that it is my best interest to create images that show my individuality instead of conforming to a wide array of looks.
The photos I have seen thus far are lovely, except for my face. My veil is lush, and the costume photographed exceptionally well. My face-however, looks too pale, severe, and almost earth-zombie. The fact that I had to mentally get past my make-up issue plays across my face in a few shots. I did see some shots that day and know that we got some amazing photos that will overpower my mixed feelings about my make-up. The floor work shots where I am in a deep back bend whipping my veil around created some amazing compositions. The answer to "Can you do that, on your knees, with the back bend...but also coming around with the veil?" is yes! I can!
We did veil work with that costume, but, like in Tokyo restaurants, space was an issue. If I fully extended and brought the veil to its widest dramatic shapes, there wasn't enough room to capture the whole thing, or we got non-backdrop crap in the shots. Lars and I later talked about the possibility of shooting a costume outdoor to really get the full movement of the veil. I am all for that. I would like to play with an outdoor shoot. I have some ideas about which costumes would work best and poses, but will also want to see some shots of the space. I will also, as Tim mentioned, need to watch my skin. I have an amazing collection of sun-blocking products and am thinking about how to layer them with costumes and make-up and how often I would need to retouch.
Then we were out of time.
Looking back I know how I want to shoot the Junkman's Sexy Daughter...and if I ever get the chance this is what I see doing: taking more control of what I want my make-up to look like, responding when I think something is off about my make-up, a darker backdrop and the gratuitous use of a wind machine. I think the tight lines of the lycra costume would be amazingly set off by a dramatic pose, my head slightly uplifted, and my hair flying everywhere...and maybe toss a veil in for drama...and a similar shot of me laughing...and some sexy floorwork/loungy shots...the kind that my fellow dancers have mixed feelings about. Sure, those are not about how I look when I perform, but they would be great shots and would also capture something about who I am as a dancer that shots of me dancing might not.
I stuck around to watch some of the surfer shots...and really marveled at the pose-skills on display...and the fire nipples...and the body attached.
TIm and others apologized for not having time to shoot my third costume. I told them that was ok, but that I would love to come back as many times as they would have me...they joked about the fact that it would be dangerous for them to take me up on that because they might end up killing me or annoying me. I doubt that.
I'm dead serious about that...I'll pretty much show up whenever they will have me. Now that I know there are some days where it is just one model and some days it is multiple, I can pace myself. On model-packed days I could prep one costume,music, so on, focus on a few ideas and still make it to dance class in the evening....now that I know that's what it takes. Things didn't go as smoothly as they could this time, but it taught me a great deal. I now have a better sense of why it is I want to be photographed, and what I need to bring to the process.
Great photographs that I can use for promotion, or art, are wonderful to have, but they aren't the only reward of a photoshoot. Photos can sometimes be secondary in importance to the experience of being shot. Being photographed gives me a reason to investigate my visuals. It causes me to stop and think about the message that I wish to portray and how to deliver that. Because I need to get into my performance brain to do shoots, they involve me mentally breaking down what it is about certain music that makes me move and project in a particular manner...and using that music to its fullest. It also give me the 2-d artistic community that I miss being with and creating and expanding ideas in. 2-d art uses skill sets that I've been trained in. Also photo shoots present a unique performance environment, requiring both the ability to be aware of what it is you look like moving through space and the ability to turn off your analytical brain when it interferes with making those moves real. You end up with a visual idea of if you've hit those marks, at least some of the time, and you can transfer that experience and knowledge to other performing venues.
By 5PM I was on a train home.
At 8PM I was watching downloaded "So You Think You Can Dance" and...and this scares me to admit...doing beadwork on my unfinished gold costume.
Even after a photoshoot, and weeks of struggling with a costume, I am a costume junkie.
Around 11PM I checked my bed for needles...and crashed for the night.
When I know not where to begin, I default to the body.
I awoke this morning to took stock of my body. I am sore. My week involved 24 classes of teaching kabaddi, one jazz dance class, one restaurant performance, and ended with a photoshoot on Saturday. My sore muscle are cumulative damage. The last photo shoot I had with the Tokyo group was physically intense and left me with two pulled muscles and the inability to walk up and down stairs for a few days. This shoot was less strenuous, but it has left its mark.
A while back I wrote about watching a burlesque performance by belly dancers. Because belly dance can bruise and scratch you up (the moves that bruise, the costume that catch) dancers who cross-over into burlesque really need to do scratch and dent checks and cover bruises and cuts before they dress up to strip down. This morning, as I showered after watching the latest So You Think You Can Dance, my thoughts turned to how bruised up those dancers must also be. As much as any one of them would be a treat to see naked, they'd also be a fascination of bruises. All those stunning shots we love of nude dancers and olympic athletes must be seriously photoshopped/ burned and dodged to remove the evidence of what work it takes to get those bodies and perform those feats.
Out of the shower I put my glasses on and did my own spot check. I left the shoot with cuts on my fingers and the early stages of knee bruising. I have no clue where the cuts came from, but I remember noticing that one finger was bleeding when I changed costumes. I know where the knee bruises came from. Those are normal. I had done some staged Zar in the shoot. For non-dancers, Zar is a type of trance-inducing movement, usually performed to drumming music on one's knees while flinging of the head and hair. Zar grows in intensity and can end in total surrender and collapse. I call what I did staged because in a shoot situation with tight time, there is no time to really get deep into a Zar state. It had to be acted instead of achieved....and frankly I think my photographers would have been a bit concerned if I did anything that ended in my own collapse. My staged Zar no doubt started the bruises, but the bruises came fully to life in my second costume when, as I dropped to the floor, I landed on my knees onto a beaded section of my costume. Instant bruising, followed by more floor work prompted by questions like "Can you do that, on your knees, with the back bend...but also coming around with the veil?" Seriously, when I get asked questions like that I honestly wonder if I can, and always try.
I bruised, but the bruising is less brutal than what I have come home from floor-work intensive classes with.
The only other damage I could feel or see was a sore neck from the whipping motion of a quickly entered Zar and a small scratch on my abdomen only remarkable due to the contrast my intense whiteness provides.
All in all, I was doing pretty well.
The cumulative damage of my week of teaching kabaddi lessons impacted the amount of non-costume related prep I was able to put into my photo shoot. There is part of me that would like a do-over on the shoot, just because I realize how much better prepared I could have been for it.
At the start of this week I would come home, exhausted, with only energy enough to tweak the last touches on my just finished fire-bedlah renovations and the matching pants and accessories I made for it. I was narrowing down my other costumes via the passive means of putting a poll on my blog and some thinking. What I should have been doing, but didn't, was to start earlier in thinking about specific shots/poses/moods I wanted from each costume and choosing the right music to bring those movements and expressions out of me.
The right music is essential. It doesn't always have to be bellydance music, but it usually is. In my blog I have written about my personal struggle to get comfortable in front of a camera. In art school when I dabbled with photography I did a lot of self portraits, I had a very CIndy Sherman phase for years, but I was never comfortable modeling for other people. My mother has a series of me treating her like a mad paparazzi in a variety of countries and what she calls "my daughter's backpacks through our travels in Asia" The idea of striking a pose freezes me up. I hate it.
My first dance related photo shoot (which took place near the end of last year) was shot by local photographer Nam and styled by Momo. I knew I needed shots for publicity and cards and spared no expense in getting my photographer and stylist. The shoot resulted in some stunning shots. It started at 11PM and took 5 hours and wore me the hell out. I credit the lovely results more to Nam and Momo than my own ability to project to the camera. I also think that I had fully thought about what "look" I wanted to convey in each shot (iconographic 60's dancer for my first costume and flowing but earthy movement for my second ). Still, there was more than one point in the process in which I wanted to just cry.
My first photoshoot blog entry.
Then, when I traveled to San Francisco for the holidays I sent an email to Michael Baxter about if he could fit me into his busy end of the year photography schedule. I flew with only one costume, not knowing if he could to it, but knowing I needed a photos that represented my more jazz-fusion style with Balkan fusion music. I had my appropriate music on my iPod and had also packed the make-up I would need for the look I imagined.
Michael fit me in and my mother tagged along to see what ended up being a shoot that sprawled into a 12 hour experience. Some of that time was filled by other dancers coming, getting shot, and then returning to me...and my own prep in doing my own hair and make-up. He even called a local costumer ( Geisha Moth) to bring over more costumes to me to shoot in.
Michael was a breakthrough for me. We started out shooting tight and limiting the space I could move in, and I quickly exhibited my pose-oriented ticks and freeze-ups. Once more, I wanted to cry. I wanted to tag out and head home early.
We then decided to light the whole studio for a performance, and Michael switched to the camera he uses for live performance. I was able to go full speed: jumps, kicks, and all. Balkan music isn't restrained and nor am I when I dance to it. To photograph me doing poses to that music doesn't represent who I am as a dancer, to photograph me in all my silly faced power spins get it.
In clicked in my brain. I can do photo shoots, but I need to get into the mental headspace of being a performer and just perform the fuck out of it. I'm not an actor. I am not a model. I am a dancer. And as a dancer, I am an entertainer. I rarely have stage fright and really enjoy performing for an audience. When I practice at home I always imagine an audience and try to practice with my whole body (face included) holding some awareness of the people outside of me.
Mid-day Michael and I shot more "sexy loungy" shots of me...so I know that I can pose...but that it needs to be a while into the shoot so that I have physically broken through my camera discomfort and am fully present as a performer.
The Baxter Experience blog
Back in Tokyo in 2008, I came across an ad in Metropolis magazine asking for models and performers for photoshoots, Model time would be swapped for images. I was dubious, but encouraged by the fact that they were stressing "performers" and seemed to be looking for a range of people, not just models. This is what I wanted. More experience with cameras that didn't involve me forking out money. I emailed them, describing who I am as a performer and including images from past shoots. Their leader, Tim, got back to me within a day and was enthusiastic about bringing me into his fold of artists. We hit it off via email and I went to visit the studio in a few weeks.
They are a collective of rotating photographers (some more regular than others) and one make-up artist. They all want more time with equipment and models and to spend less money on renting studio spaces by splitting time and cost.. The size and cost of space in Tokyo is what you'd imagine. Photographers here are very resourceful with what they can get, but I suspect they have pornographic discussions about what they could do if they only had more space and time.
I did my first shoot with them in early February, a week after I had done a wonderful charity event with the Afet Collective while recovering from food poisoning, and a week before I started doing my regular Friday night 8:30 gig at Anatolia, Shibuya.....so I never properly blogged about the first shoot....although I posted pictures galore!
It was wonderful.
I was the only model that day, so we were not crunched for time. Lack of a time crunch meant that things could unfold fairly organically as we tried, discussed, and tried some more. There was time for me to get into my performance brain. There was time for the four artists to shoot, reflect, and ask "could we do this, but with that veil and you doing..." Tim, was able to introduce a few new toys to play with (this circular light/flash thingy) and even change things up 100% for art shots in which I was backlit on a blue set for some amazing silluhette shots and fun with a powerful fan. Of course,the expanse of time meant that I performed a whole lot, focusing on dynamic moves that photograph well. It was when we shot the third costume that, while dropping down to my knees throwing my veil up...again and again...that I pulled a muscle in each thigh.
What would I have done differently for that shoot? I would have hemmed my Geisha Moth pants prior to shooting and not done such a crappy job straight ironing my hair...otherwise I would have done almost everything the same. In this last week the memories of that set-up combined with my own flagging energy lulled me into a false sense of how much I needed to prepare. I focused on the costumes, hoping that the rest would happen as seamlessly as it had the last time.
Thursday night I finalized my costume, bling, and veil choices. I pulled everything out, packing what I could. I paired the fire set with a red velvet skirt and set it aside for the restaurant on Friday. I decided to use the same music for the restaurant that I'd used the week before, due to a lack of time to change things up.
When I got home from work late Friday afternoon, the last thing I wanted to do was dance. I wanted to sleep for a few days. I put on my make-up and shook out my hair, checked my bag, and headed into Shibuya on the 6:45 train from my station. I arrived a little before 8, warmed up, chatted with the owner and then got ready for my set.
I got home around 10, showered, and set to ironing my veils for the next day.
The next morning I dragged myself out of bed. Photoshoot day! I hadn't slept well. I haven't slept well in weeks and weeks. I haven't had time to figure out why.
I tried on two skirts with my fire-set. I had two main ideas for the fire set: Capture motion and fun in the red flares and do some zar shots in which I seem to be rising up from a fire puddle of cloth. I'd been planning to use an orangey-firey silk skirt for the second idea, but the color was slightly off. A cheap red satin skirt I had worked better, but had been poorly hemmed by the previous owner and was all lengths. I did a quick serger hem job, and more ironing, and packed it. In an ideal world I would have used red silk.
I now realize that the fire set had consumed my thought process in regards to poses and looks. I had neglected to plan as well for the other two costumes (a crazy animal-lycra costume and my homemade sleek black and green poppy costume). It was the day of the shoot and I was just getting around to pulling my music...and didn't have time to really to think to myself "I want these sorts of shots, so I need this sort of mood to really project that..."
I had thought about my make-up for the fire costume, a little, but wish that I had brought some idea clippings for the make-up artist or the other looks.
No time! No time! Drink two espressos at home, and get a black coffee for the train. It's time to get on the 11:30 train into Harajuku! GO!
When I got there I realized that I wasn't the only model for the day. Put that in the file of things to ask about before hand. We'd be shooting three people in the same time frame we shot me last time ( myself, a female model, a male actor?/model) and 2-3 looks per person (the last one being a time consuming surfer pose on board one for the guy) so the unfolding of the shoot was radically different from what I'd experienced before. White backgrounds for all involved for maximum versatility.
Two of the photographers were the same, Lars and Nathan...both very sweet and yet professional.
Lars
Nathan
Tim
Nathan has been my favorite photographer thus far, followed immediately by Lars, and I was happy to work with them again. Tim was the same ebuliant-yet quirky spirit, quick with the wit and complements. The photographers know how to make me feel well loved and comfortable. I think part of it is that I can relate to clusters of photographers in the same way I related to art school classmates in collaborative or critique situations, I have a mental frame of reference.
There was a new boy in the photo ranks, who was jokingly warned to watch what he said to me because of my blogging habits, and Ellen, a fellow vegetarian who I enjoyed chatting with and performing for. And look at me...bloging. They know me.
When I think of photographers as peer artists, my mind relaxes. When I think of myself as a "model", my brain freezes. I have confidence in myself as a performer, but the idea of myself as a model still blows my mind. I wonder when the gig will be up, when my inability to pose will be unmasked, and I'll have to go home. I'm not an insecure person, but these thoughts do occur to me.
Shooting with models/actors who had very clear sense of what they needed and how to ask for it made my own lack of preparation hit me. Past the idea of "shots in these costumes" and my ideas about the fire costume...I was a little lost. I knew I could perform and get passible shots, but I lacked direction. Without a time crunch there would have been more chance to shot, look, react, and suggest.
I winged it.
My first costume of the day would be the fire costume...as the photoshoot in some ways marked the culmination of my two week costume alteration spree. I got my face done, giving the artist the direction of "firey" and "about this close to being drag queen". I didn't question the lack of false eyelashes or heavy eyeliner (which had been part of the last shoot, and indeed are part of my life every Friday. It looked good, a little sharp in the mouth shape, but good. I think the fact that I am now doing elaborate make-up every Friday has made me more particular about what works on my face...but more on this later.
I changed into my fire costume and flares, put my hair up, and popped on my first set of false nails....and then put on my zills (finger cymbals). The morning of the shoot I had decided to grab my zills because I have no pictures of myself playing them. Since I started doing my regular restaurant gig and using the zills every time I perform there, they have become a stronger part of who I am as a dancer. The legacy of my crazy first teacher and her inability to zill ( and my resulting fear and loathing of the things) has vanished.
Now, I hadn't thought about the two difficult issues that zills bring with them to a shoot: zill face and zill arms. Until a dancer gets good and comfortable with zills they are apt to be plagued with both of these. As bellydancers well know, zill face is the look of pained happiness/half-masked concentration that comes from trying play music while you dance. You know you need to make it look effortless, but early zill time is not effortless. Zill arms are what happen when your general body awareness is syphoned off by needing to be aware of the mechanics of playing finger cymbals with the music....anytime your brain has to go to one part of your body you risk loosing posture and awareness of the whole. Zill work in tech early stages often leaves arms in odd chicken wing shapes and kills even the nicest arm lines by by ending this lines in zill claws with flopped or tense wrists.
Still, I had music I could get into and I zilled and hoped for the best.
I am unable to pretend to play the zills....that freezes me up, so I played and danced.
I had warmed up, but I had not gone through the mental warm-ups I do before performances nowadays (focusing my energy, visually imagining a solid performance, thinking positively about my skills as a dancer...) and I regret that, I think skipping that step cost me minutes of getting into my music. The photographer in charge of keeping us on schedule signaled that it was costume/model change time.
Because I had only done zill/movement shots and some face shots, and had done none of the shots I had imagined of myself in the fireset and skirt, I asked to get a bit more camera time. I rushed into my skirt, not even unpinning my pants from my belt. I changed the music, got down on my knees, whipped away, and we got some good shots. It was then that it clicked that I needed to come with more ideas and not just passively rely on the photographer's feedback for ideas. I came with that idea and it had worked, but now it was time for the next model and for me to get gussied up in a costume I refer to as "The Junkman's Sexy Daughter." It's a crazy sexy lycra costume I bought off the Bhuz swap meet. It has it all: animal print, flower print, swirls, braided spandex, and random bling. It is a horror when off a body and insanely sensual on one.
The Junkman's Sexy Daughter is where my lack of preparation bit me in the ass.
This is where I grow hesitant to post this on facebook, because I know that my photographers will probably read it and feel that I did not enjoy myself. I assure you that I did enjoy the shoot, but that my own lack of experience resulted in things I was displeased with that could have easily been in my control.
I interrupted the actor who was getting tribal face paint and flames on his nipples (who would be shot last in the surfer set-up) for my make-up re-touch (the actor could return to getting painted as I was being shot). I said I wanted something that sort of said "wild and sexy" the artist said "dark browns and golds and such?" and I agreed.
The results...weren't that pleasing to me. As I said, over the last year I have really grown in my make-up skills and savvy. Every week I am putting on the false lashes and doing the sort of dramatic stage/dark restaurant make-up that is similar to photoshoot levels of thickness and drama. I have done my own make-up for a shoot before. Still, I am somewhat cowed by make-up experts and thus didn't question him, assuming that he knew better than I.
I don't blame the make-up artist and am hesitant to write this for fear it will get back to him in a bad way. I take responsibility for this, through my passivity and my lack of preparation. He's not familiar with bellydance and I think he interpreted it to be more dramatic-theatrical than dramatic-beauty. My first flame costume and my drag queen comment couldn't have helped. If I had come with a specific vision and some clear reference photos I don't think he would have done the make-up that he did. Even without those items, I should have spoken up and said "Can I get some more dramatic eyeliner to really bring out my eyes, maybe false eyelashes, and can we change this lip shape from it's sharp points to a more plump/full shape? Thank you." Part of not being a model for me is that fact that it is my best interest to create images that show my individuality instead of conforming to a wide array of looks.
The photos I have seen thus far are lovely, except for my face. My veil is lush, and the costume photographed exceptionally well. My face-however, looks too pale, severe, and almost earth-zombie. The fact that I had to mentally get past my make-up issue plays across my face in a few shots. I did see some shots that day and know that we got some amazing photos that will overpower my mixed feelings about my make-up. The floor work shots where I am in a deep back bend whipping my veil around created some amazing compositions. The answer to "Can you do that, on your knees, with the back bend...but also coming around with the veil?" is yes! I can!
We did veil work with that costume, but, like in Tokyo restaurants, space was an issue. If I fully extended and brought the veil to its widest dramatic shapes, there wasn't enough room to capture the whole thing, or we got non-backdrop crap in the shots. Lars and I later talked about the possibility of shooting a costume outdoor to really get the full movement of the veil. I am all for that. I would like to play with an outdoor shoot. I have some ideas about which costumes would work best and poses, but will also want to see some shots of the space. I will also, as Tim mentioned, need to watch my skin. I have an amazing collection of sun-blocking products and am thinking about how to layer them with costumes and make-up and how often I would need to retouch.
Then we were out of time.
Looking back I know how I want to shoot the Junkman's Sexy Daughter...and if I ever get the chance this is what I see doing: taking more control of what I want my make-up to look like, responding when I think something is off about my make-up, a darker backdrop and the gratuitous use of a wind machine. I think the tight lines of the lycra costume would be amazingly set off by a dramatic pose, my head slightly uplifted, and my hair flying everywhere...and maybe toss a veil in for drama...and a similar shot of me laughing...and some sexy floorwork/loungy shots...the kind that my fellow dancers have mixed feelings about. Sure, those are not about how I look when I perform, but they would be great shots and would also capture something about who I am as a dancer that shots of me dancing might not.
I stuck around to watch some of the surfer shots...and really marveled at the pose-skills on display...and the fire nipples...and the body attached.
TIm and others apologized for not having time to shoot my third costume. I told them that was ok, but that I would love to come back as many times as they would have me...they joked about the fact that it would be dangerous for them to take me up on that because they might end up killing me or annoying me. I doubt that.
I'm dead serious about that...I'll pretty much show up whenever they will have me. Now that I know there are some days where it is just one model and some days it is multiple, I can pace myself. On model-packed days I could prep one costume,music, so on, focus on a few ideas and still make it to dance class in the evening....now that I know that's what it takes. Things didn't go as smoothly as they could this time, but it taught me a great deal. I now have a better sense of why it is I want to be photographed, and what I need to bring to the process.
Great photographs that I can use for promotion, or art, are wonderful to have, but they aren't the only reward of a photoshoot. Photos can sometimes be secondary in importance to the experience of being shot. Being photographed gives me a reason to investigate my visuals. It causes me to stop and think about the message that I wish to portray and how to deliver that. Because I need to get into my performance brain to do shoots, they involve me mentally breaking down what it is about certain music that makes me move and project in a particular manner...and using that music to its fullest. It also give me the 2-d artistic community that I miss being with and creating and expanding ideas in. 2-d art uses skill sets that I've been trained in. Also photo shoots present a unique performance environment, requiring both the ability to be aware of what it is you look like moving through space and the ability to turn off your analytical brain when it interferes with making those moves real. You end up with a visual idea of if you've hit those marks, at least some of the time, and you can transfer that experience and knowledge to other performing venues.
By 5PM I was on a train home.
At 8PM I was watching downloaded "So You Think You Can Dance" and...and this scares me to admit...doing beadwork on my unfinished gold costume.
Even after a photoshoot, and weeks of struggling with a costume, I am a costume junkie.
Around 11PM I checked my bed for needles...and crashed for the night.
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no subject
Date: 2008-07-27 12:02 pm (UTC)And YES to a wind machine for the Junkman's Sexy Daughter!
Dammit
Date: 2008-07-27 12:48 pm (UTC)/ Lars
PS. Always a pleasure to have you in ! beautiful outfit, great moves, what more can we ask for ? But no more injuries, ya hear ?
Re: Dammit
Date: 2008-07-27 12:51 pm (UTC)I am not injured! Not beyond normal performance injuries! I even went to the sports club today.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 12:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 12:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-28 12:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 07:46 am (UTC)And at the end of the day, what may fit the model's taste may not be what the photographer or stylist is after - so it's a bit of "do what the model wants in exchange for the time" and "do what the stylist / photographer wants in exchange for the service"
But I do agree, sometimes a makeup artist I have worked with before come up with a makeup that has left everyone thinking "what was he/she thinking" :)
/ Lars
no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 08:23 am (UTC)