The Marriage of Me and Thou
Every Monday as I sit down at my desk to write these thoughts, as small terror overwhelms me. Sometimes the question is, is there anything else to write about? Other times, I am overflowing with thoughts and feelings, and I can’t figure out where to begin.
Today, I feel like the latter. So many feelings, so many thoughts, so many dreams. Where do I begin? How do I make any sense of all this? How do I put it in order, and most importantly, how do I put words to these feelings?
In Stravinsky’s, Poetics of Music in the Form of Six Lessons he talks about the same issues, but not with words or pictures, but with music.
He describes how when he sits down at the piano to compose, he has total fear and is overwhelmed with an uneasiness of where to begin. Everything and nothing is possible.
It is only after he has picked the key and various other musical constraints, does he begin to feel liberated, and the notes begin to flow more graciously. Freedom comes only from constraint, and from the choices one makes. It is at this point the slow process of exposing the peculiar and real you begins to emerge. As you delve deeper into making decisions, from deciding for and against choices, you find this thing called your voice.
I have a shoot this week, and as always the same overwhelming fear hits me square in the face the moment I hear about the assignment. It is not about the pictures, I am generally confident about those, it’s about the location. Where, oh where, can I shoot these pictures? What key can I find that will open the door to allow me the freedom to show myself.
I am in dread of not finding a place that not only feels right for the pictures (the assignment) but also feels right for me.
Everything starts with the location. I am always looking under every rock, peering into small crevices, looking to find new places to shoot. Where I feel comfortable. Where I feel it is appropriate, and I can make my pictures. This process is never easy and always filled with dread and generally requires a great deal of thought and work.
If I finally walk into a space that feels right, the first feeling I have is a sense of relief. Basically that is all I want to know. I never probe too deeply. I don’t want to know at the time what picture’s I will take, or how they will look. I begin to feel free and more at ease and this is enough. I quickly leave at this point before everything is revealed to me.
I want the experience of making the pictures to be spontaneous and vibrant. I trust my instincts. I now have my key.
During the shoot I never shoot polaroids or want to know what the pictures look like. I love the experience of making the pictures and if I saw them before or during the process, it would stop there.
I try to go deeper into the score, I know my limitations and I become more free as the day progresses. I allow my voice to mingle with the location and the models. Deeper and deeper, the chorus becomes more and more melodious until all the voices speak as one.
Tea and Sympathy Rodney Smith and designer Barbara Barry were kindred spirits, needing beauty the way other people need air.
I’ve spent my life in pursuit of beauty. Observing beauty and, over time, creating beauty for myself and for others. For me, beauty and the pursuit of it is not just an occupation; it is a means of survival. I need it to get through every day and I think Rodney did too.
As human beings we respond to the world around us. Every encounter, every room we enter, everything we see and touch affects us. We respond to kindness, to patience and to elegance which are all acts of beauty. And we are hurt by rudeness and vulgarity which can be so harsh, and so in that way, beauty serves as an antidote to the negative, be it personal or global.
When it came time to create imagery for my collaboration with Wedgwood, I couldn’t think of anyone but Rodney to capture my vision. Rodney’s Zoe Balancing Teapot was a collaboration that happened right on the set. Both of us being strict and controlling types we worked in perfect harmony with the exchange of ideas that resulted in many glorious images of which this is my favorite.
The concept was simple: to capture the elegance and whimsy of everyday rituals but not in ordinary rooms. Not in someone else’s house with someone else’s fireplace. It had to be expansive. It had to feel like a dream.
Rodney suggested the James Burden Mansion on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, with natural light pouring through floor-to-ceiling windows, marble walls and sculpted ceilings. The gilded world of another age. And we thought, “let’s just have a tea party here.”
When Rodney introduced me to the model Zoe Friedman I fell in love. She had a quality of effortlessness and glamour that I wanted for my brand. And she was natural and open and up for anything. Her hair was always a glorious mess that somehow only added to her perfection.
Most people don’t realize what goes into the making of a photograph. The many takes, the right light, the “click” that results in moments of apparent simplicity, of beauty. Everything on a Rodney Smith shoot was beauty and perfection — and everyone brought their best. When that happens, a kind of magic unfolds.
With all the commotion and fuss Rodney would suddenly say, “Stop, hold still“…And under the big cloth he’d go, seeing upside down the image he wanted to capture. And there it was.
When things look simple, you know you are in the hands of a master. Rodney was a master.
Zoe Balancing Teapot on Head was not even the planned shot. It was an outtake. But sometimes the best things are the surprises. There is Zoe — poised, serene, improbable — a teapot balanced on her head in the golden light of a Gilded Age mansion, as if this were simply how one spent a Tuesday afternoon. The humor is there, but it never tips into a joke. That was Rodney’s genius. He knew how to walk close to the edge.
I live with Rodney’s photographs every day and I think of it as a daily conversation. The clarity and the light in his images clear away the cobwebs in my head. A daily transformation from whatever ails me, back to a state of gratitude and appreciation. Ah…the transformative power of beauty.
To understand how important location was for Rodney, read his blog post “The Marriage of Me and Thou,” featuring this image.
