If given a choice, I will always choose the photo that addresses the viewer directly. Next in the hierarchy of exploitation, I tend to choose the most vulgar, exploitative, demeaning, humiliating or emotionally evocative shot. Failing that, I will always choose the absurd, silly or candid above the rest. If that’s not available, I’ll choose the photo that shows the model in pain, picking her nose or scratching her butt.
‘Cause it’s sexy as fuck, that’s why.
I get extra bonus points if I get the shot that contains all of the above. Haven’t gotten there yet though, dammit.
It’s very hard for me to divorce myself from the memory of the photo shoot. I get tangled up in it all, the memory, the emotions, the energy (not the oogy boogy kind, the physical energy – exertion), the humor and the photos themselves. The success of the photo shoot, in my head at least, isn’t divorced from the activity. I lack objectivity when it comes to judging the photos on their formal merits.
Fortunately I don’t give a damn about their “formal merits” and the experience of the shoot should create artistic value in the photos.
But then again, I’m contradicting myself now. ‘Cause I’ve said over and over again that if you value art based on an emotional state you are no better than an amoeba. Stimulus-response is not a good base for evaluating work.
Well… shit. Guess I’m a hypocrite.
Suck it. I love these series of photos and I had a blast shooting them with Chloe.