“It’s the only picture we have of him,” said his widow
Background: As a former photographer I know all too well the reaction some individuals have against having their picture taken. At family gatherings and professional studios alike, they complain bitterly, imagining the negative feelings they will have when seeing photos of themselves. Snapshots of them often show nothing more than a blurry head, turning away.
When working professionally I knew it was far more important to connect with such individuals and let them be at ease, than any merely technical aspect of picture taking. When people refer to a “good” picture of their loved one, they do not mean it has correct exposure and sharp focus; they mean the facial expression is as they prefer to remember that person.
That expression seldom corresponds to the forced smile of a studio picture, which is why I preferred event photography to studio work. The difference is what a person is “there to do”. At a studio, they are “there” to have their picture taken – a process they very much dislike. At a wedding or reunion, their main purpose is to socialize. At such events, working without flash and drawing as little attention to my camera as possible I could often produce the only “good” picture ever taken of a camera-phobic person.
This evening I was throwing out some old junk from that time. One of my services was copying antique photographs using archival-quality materials. People brought in everything from daguerreotypes to faded color pictures from the 1970’s. The box I was riffling through contained overprints and test prints to be pitched. A 5×7 picture triggered the memory…
“It’s the only picture we have of him”, said his widow, handing me his drivers’ license. “I know it isn’t much, but can you get a copy from it?” He didn’t look a day over 50.
This was in pre-digital days, when the Polaroid license photo machine imaged through the lens directly onto the final piece of paper that would be laminated and carried. The thick plastic laminate was badly scratched, obscuring the picture beneath.
“Sure,” I said. I knew how much detail Polaroid photos often preserved.
I cleaned the license and immersed it in a tray of Photo-Flo, a photographic rinsing agent. Laying the tray on my copy stand I positioned the lights, waited for the liquid to become perfectly still, and made a crystal-clear negative of the image beneath. The family was thrilled with the result and I wound up making several 5x7prints.
For what it’s worth, here’s my take on having your picture taken. Your face does not completely belong to you; it belongs in some respects to the people who love you. It is a reminder of you when you are apart, and perhaps a conduit for comforting memories when you are gone.
Yes, there are annoying aspects to having your picture taken, and some family members can be real pests about it. But nobody’s perfect, so try to forgive them and just relax. Pretend they aren’t there and just try to enjoy yourself. In the long run, it becomes a meaningful gift that no one realizes unless it isn’t there.
Now some advice for photographers: turn off your flash. Practice using your camera until you don’t have to fiddle with it, and practice squeezing off your shots so you can get a steady shot even in low light. Once you can use your camera unconsciously, you can pay more attention to the people in front of you. The trick to getting good people shots is anticipation – use your knowledge of behavior to intersect the moment you want to record, with the opening of the shutter. You see the moment developing and as it is about to happen the camera is coming up to your eye. This is what Henri Cartier-Bresson called “The Decisive Moment”.