When that person allows themselves to be vulnerable with you, you can get a great photograph. Only then am I actually capturing that person: no matter what they’re wearing, whether it’s nothing or something really fabulous, it’s only then you truly get to see someone. I’m talking, asking questions, trying to understand who they are. I’m clicking the shutter, but I’m usually not taking pictures. The first 15 minutes of any portrait session is about waiting until the person reveals themself. So many images are about the surface, but in a portrait, I want to get inside, to understand and express something deeper than an appearance. I’ve always loved portraiture, whether in a studio or out in the world. I like my subjects to know they’re being photographed, to pose a little, because it’s a form of interaction with the photographer that can kind of go anywhere. There are a few where he had no idea he was being photographed: it was him without his “Andy” suit on if you like, but I don’t find them more interesting than the others. Over the course of our friendship, I took more photos of him than I can count. And we both had the same work ethic: when we worked, we worked hard and when we played, we played really hard. I think we became close because we had so much in common, beyond just our love of art and photography. When he'd no idea he was being shot, I caught him without his 'Andy' suit on I took more photos of him than I can count. Maybe it was a new place, or new food – but he had an innocent enjoyment of new things that was always so pure. He and I were the same in that respect: we were never too cool to be amazed by something. One thing I treasured about him was his naivety in the face of new things. There was a sophistication to the way he interacted with the world that I always admired. He was a fantastic conversationalist, especially at a dinner party. He could talk about anything, all day long. It’s funny because in private, he was just so different. I think he sensed, before his time, the importance of never giving too much away, always keeping something back, out of the public gaze. He never wanted to let on what he actually thought. Answers were yes, no, or at most a few words here and there. There was always an ambiguity he wanted to convey – almost as if it was up to the viewer to decide what he was doing, how was feeling, which “Andy” he was being on that particular day. It’s this perfect neutrality: I’m not happy, but I’m not unhappy either. ![]() His facial expression was a trademark in the photographs that he made public. He was a fantastic conversationalist, especially at a dinner party In private, away from the public gaze, he could talk about anything. It feels fitting, too, because even though Andy was a quintessentially American artist who never really looked to Europe for inspiration – from the Campbell’s soup cans to the Brillo pads, he was American to the core – his work is now so global, there’s almost nowhere in the world that his work hasn’t travelled. It felt right shooting him in this strange old plane, because so much of our time together was spent travelling.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |