A Rose By Any Other Name

Rosa Brandt
22
Grahamstown

It's been a busy day for photography, and clothes and props are strewn across the studio floor in between empty glasses of wine and bottles of "cheerleader beer". Laughter and giggling can be heard ringing through the garden and the house beyond as my friends and I chatter between shots.

"I love this jacket," Rosa announces as she slips it on over her dress and poses for a shot or two in it. It's one of my favourites - the black leather one from my days in Korea - and it suits her perfectly. But the jacket is just the beginning, and before long the studio has turned into an extended wardrobe for outfits to be tried and tested and fun to be had. It's like going clothing shopping with your best friend, and knowing that you won't end up spending any money - you just get to look great in an outfit for a few minutes before moving on to the next one. It's like the fashion shoot that I have been dreaming of, and Rosa makes a wonderful model for it with her slim frame and her outgoing personality.

It's not just the clothes that get the Rosa treatment, but the props as well as she picks them up and transports us into her imagination. She jumps from socialite to entertainer, from naughtiness to innocence with an ease that brings out the actress in her, and it's wonderful to witness and capture. It's easy to remember while I watch her why it is that we are friends - her easy going nature makes her a pleasure to be around and brings out the fun side of me that often gets ignored and lies dormant for months at a time.

It's the last shoot that I have a chance to get with her, her Grahamstown visit a short one this time around, but it's one that will linger in my memory, bringing a smile to my face for a long time to come - tiding me over until the next time I get to see her.

A Part of Their Story

Michael Marabini and Vicky Heideman
Grahamstown

"Hey, Mike."
Grant moves his chair away from the desk as he answers the call - never the world's best multi-tasker - and begins to pace around the house. Into a room one minute, out the next, up and down the hall - his typical phone call routine, but this is no typical phone call.
"You want me to do what?"
I motion with my arms trying to catch his attention and involve him in a game of charades so that I can figure out what's going on.
"Yes, she is."
He catches my eye, but refuses to participate any further than that.
"Yes, she does."
I narrow my eyes now, wondering what exactly it is that I "do".
"Okay, bud. Meet you there."
He hangs up the phone and sidles back in front of his computer, ignoring the glares that I am sending in his direction.
"What's going on?" I finally shout, giving in to my frustration and curiosity.
"Oh," he says as though he's just realised that I'm there. "We're meeting Mike and Vicky at Home Affairs in half an hour."
He turns back to the PC.
"Uh... why?"
"Just as witnesses."
"To..."
"Their marriage."

Fast forward three years, and there I am, my camera in hand, snapping shots of Mike and Vicky. They're fresh from their honeymoon and standing before friends and family in full wedding attire saying, "I do." It's an anniversary party, really - a reason to celebrate three years of happy marriage with those that they love most. And once again, I am a part of their happy moment. I'll also be the one to remind them of their anniversary a year down the line.

A year and a half later, and Mike and Vicky stand in my studio under the harsh, bright lights. I like to think of the pictures that I take as family photographs - a monument to the life that the two have built for themselves around each other, and a testament to the love that they share. They laugh and make fun of each other, they tease and taunt and compliment. They try to stay serious, but they just can't do it for more than a few seconds at a time - can never take themselves too seriously. It's just not who they are. Five years in and Mike and Vicky are just as in love as the day they got married. It's not something that can be said for every couple, not even for most. But I look at them, and I think to myself that I can see them being just as happy in five, ten or twenty years to come.

Thank you, Mike and Vicky, for allowing me to be a small part of your story.

Flashes and Flashbacks

Amy van Wyk
26
Grahamstown

A bright flash lights up the darkness, and I'm pretty sure that the neighbours must be getting more than a little concerned about the lightning that appears to the eminating from the garage. The fact that it is followed by thunderclaps of giggling fits can't be helping much. But if I'm being honest, I'm not too concerned by what the neighbours might think. I'm too busy having a blast with Amy

Since unwrapping the gift on the morning of my birthday, I've been dying to test out the new lighting for my studio and have been looking for any good reason to play around. And what better reason could there be than an eager volunteer and a good catch-up session.

Amy was one of my first friends in Grahamstown, and during my first year of varsity we spent many a night staying up together, talking late into the night, drinking and wandering down streets singing our own renditions of Kelly Clarkson or Gnarls Barkley tunes at the top of our lungs. She introduced me to the wanders of varsity life and she was beside me every step of the way. So, when I heard that she was back in town, my heart jumped for joy. It couldn't have come at a better time either - barely a month after Kath left me to start on her Korean adventure.

Since her return, there has been a lot of catching up to do with Amy - finding our what's happened in the years that we missed out on and reminiscing about the good old days when the dawnie was the biggest problem that we faced. So, when I had the chance to photograph and spend time with Amy in amidst our two very busy scheduled, I jumped at the opportunity.

It was the first time that I was properly able to test out the lighting, and it certainly did take some getting used to. There was a lot of fumbling and more than a little hmming and haa'ing taking place, but the photos that came out of the session brought such a smile to my face.

I have never been happier with the photographs that I have taken in my studio, and I have Grant, Jono, Robert and Sharon to thank for the beautiful lights. But it would have all been for nothing without a subject. So I have got to thank Amy for the amazing experience.

THANK YOU ALL!

Sprinkling of Magic

Erica Wertlen
Grahamstown

“You know you’re still shining, right?”

I turn to my housemate, confused for a few moments and he just stares at me, a giggle hidden behind his lips. For a minute I think he’s finally lost it, an evitability when residing in the same house as me. And then it all comes back to me as I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window, the small dots of glitter reflecting in the light.

How it didn’t dawn on me earlier, I don’t know. The stuff is everywhere – adorning my bedroom, my car and my camera bag; refusing to be contained by the laundry basket that houses my glitter-stained clothing. It only makes sense that a speck or two would have clung on harder than the rest despite my best efforts. After all, I’m practically sleeping in glitter-soaked bedding. If anything, I’m surprised there isn’t more of the stuff on me.

But what is a party without glitter? One that doesn’t doesn’t involve Erika, of that I’m fairly certain. Which is why it was felt by all involved that a party celebrating her growing a year older, a year wiser, and celebrating another year that we get to spend in her presence, HAD to involve glitter and tons of it.

So, when Erika arrived at her party expecting nothing more than a quiet night in with her friends, the surpise kicked off with a glitter bomb hidden above the door, with friends waiting behind it to welcome her into her latest year of life. Friends who were dressed to the nines for the carnival theme and friends who all wanted nothing more than to see the look of pure, unadulterated love, joy and awe on her face when she saw the gift that awaited her.

Being the presence of pole-dancing in this small town, it was felt that little could capture the essence of Erika more than giving her her very own pole to light up the stage with. Well, nothing material would have matched it in any case. The box filled with photographs and messages of love from all those around her came pretty close as well. But an evening spent with those that she cares about was the icing on top of the birthday cake of celebrations.

So, when I catch my reflection, the thoughts that come back to me are of an evening of fun, friends and freedom filled with beauty and dancing and sprinkled with the little bit of magic that glitter provides.

“Oh well,” I announce in response, and turn away, the glitter sparkling in the light and bringing a smile to my face.

A Day of Royalty

I can tell as Lwando got into my car that he’s excited.
“Lara,” he announces, his broad smile filling his face and extending to his eyes, “this is Nonkosazana.”
The name flies from his lips naturally, easily. I blink back at him, trying to bring up the courage to attempt the pronunciation myself, and they can see my unease, but rather than taking offense, they giggle to themselves, a shared secret amusement at my English-locked tongue. It reminds me of the giggles that I used to hear in class whenever I spoke Afrikaans in my overly-English, bordering on British, accent.
“But you can call me NK,” she says with a grin, and I smile back, relieved.
“It means Princess,” Lwando informs me, and it strikes me how appropriate that is. She looks like royalty in her cream dress, her hair haphazardly plaited and falling elegantly down her back. Lwando’s princess.

I start driving to our house, and I chit-chat with Lwando in the front about work and life in general, while NK sits in the backseat, silent, taking everything in. We arrive five minutes later, and I walk them through the house, letting them greet Grant as I open the studio, and then leading them into the garden and the garage beyond it. 

I close the door behind them and darkness fills the room, engulfing us in its shadows. I turn on the lights, one at a time, and can feel the heat of them instantly. This will need to be a quick one – hot days are not conducive to long studio sessions. The two of them stand in front of the camera, uncertainly, and I take my place behind it, smiling at them reassuringly before my face is hidden entirely.

And so it starts.
“Look at me.”
“Look at him.”
“Back to back.”
“Change places.”
“Stand up.”
“Sit down.”
“Smile.”
“Kiss.”
I feel like the puppetmaster, pulling on strings as the photos come together perfectly, as I had pictured them in my mind.

After half an hour, I shoot my last studio shot, and turn off the lights. The relief is tangible, flowing from them like sweat.
“How did you find it,” I ask NK nervously. She has been so quiet that I do not know what to think. I don’t know her well enough to tell if this is her personality or if she is uncomfortable. I wait in anticipation, but am not left waiting for long.

"Fun!" She sounds surprised, and I'm taken aback. "I was expectinng it to be so serious!"

I laugh at the thought of a serious photo session.

"What would be the point of that? No one would see your personality!"

With the formalities over, it is time to move our session to the Botanical Gardens for a little more fun. Here, I can tell that both Lwando and NK are in their element. There is no need for direction as NK jumps from bamboo branch to bamboo branch, forgetting about the camera for minutes at a time. This is not acting, not posing, this is who they are, and this is what I love. Soon they are stealing kisses at the fountain, for themselves more than anyone else, their laughter filling the air as I fade into the background.

  

         

 And as the afternoon finishes with a stroll by the river, I realise that I haven't stopped smiling since they first got into the car - Lwando and his princess, a young couple and their closeness.

In the Mug

I have said it before and I will say it again. There is one group of people that have kept my photography alive this year, and that is the Rhodes Chamber Choir. With recitals happening at least once a term, dinners, parties and more, they are my one consistent job here in Grahamstown.

That’s why, when Elethu came to me with a challenge, I was very keen to take it up. The challenge, if I chose to accept it, was going to be an advertising campaign. The theme? Mugshots. The Choir is looking for new members to start next year and will be holding auditions in early 2013. I put together a simple photoshoot to provide flyers for the auditions.

The photoshoot itself was simple enough – five people arrived to have studio shots taken. There was no particular requirement in terms of makeup or anything along those lines and it was just the average, everyday portrait shoot in my studio that I am perfectly used to. The poses were incredibly simplistic, which made giving instructions very easy – look straight at the camera, don’t smile, act crazy, turn to the left, don’t smile, act crazy, etc.

The difficult part came in after the photos had been taken and it was time to edit them to look more like mugshots. Each person had been holding a black notebook in place of a nameboard, and I had to try and make the notebook look less notebook like and more nameboard like. I tried a few methods – from trying to create a nameboard of my own, to Googling nameboards that I could use, and ended up finding that the simplest way was just to use what I already had. With that in mind, I went about trying to make the light a little harsher, the colours pop a little more, the nameboards stand out a little more and the background look more like a height scale as they use in mugshots.

My first step in trying to process the images and make them more mugshot-like was actually to Google it, but I found no helpful resources. If anyone is interested in how it was done, I am willing to put together a short tutorial. Just let me know in the comments, and if there are enough takers, I will write one up!

The end result? I must say, I was impressed with it myself. And, from the look on Elethu’s face, he didn’t think they were too shabby either! It was my first editing intensive job, and I think I pulled it off despite a few panic attacks in the beginning.

What do you think? How did I do?

Portrait of the Artist as a Young Photographer

I love taking pictures. If you hadn't realised that much by now, then I don't know where you have been. Perhaps not reading this blog or around me when I have my camera. But more than anything, I like taking pictures of people.  Wedding photos, studio sessions or just out and about around town, there is something about taking photos of people that makes me happy.

It's the hidden looks and the personality that shines through when  you least expect it. It could be during a studio session with a person who feels uncomfortable behind a camera. You shoot, you instruct, you try to bring out the best light and the best details, but the photographs are nothing without that little smile that comes with the thought of how silly this all is.

It could be during a recital when a person is singing away, part of a large group, part of a whole and you just see the music overwhelm them, you just see the joy in their eyes that comes from doing something that they love, and you manage to capture that joy in one quick shot.

It could be someone who has not even noticed you standing there, someone who is simply happy for one reason or another. You don't need to know the reason, you don't need to understand to see that the person is just simply, blissfully happy.

It's those photos that make me feel that I have accomplished something. I have a feeling that if someone were to take pictures of me taking pictures of people, that is the kind of shot that they would get. Me, at my element.