Reflections
Photography being the quirky thing it is, all professionals have stories. A photographer I shall call Dave told me this one.
He was once commissioned by an international arts magazine to photograph a collection of figurines in the Arts Museum of a European city which I think should also remain anonymous. It was to be done on a day when the museum was closed to the public.
He arrived, and was shown to the room by the curator. The figurines, some six inches high, were stunningly beautiful, arranged neatly under a large glass dome-like cover. He saw immediately how he would photograph them. Flash, reflected off a white sheet. A nice, soft light.
He thanked the curator and asked him, ‘-The cover - shall I lift it off - or would you rather do that yourself?’
The curator gaped at him. ‘The cover? Oh, no! The cover must not be removed on any account. The cover must remain at all times.’
He turned and left.
It was just one of those things that the professional has to put up with. But it was a big problem. The cover was reflecting the windows and the figurines were partly obscured. Also, any gear he used in front of the glass would be reflected. And, naturally, flash, even indirect reflected flash, was out of the question.
But, somehow, he must make a roll of pictures.
There was a way.
He went out and bought a huge roll of black paper and some strong adhesive tape. He borrowed a ladder from the curator - having explained how he was solving the problem - switched on the lights and, four hours later, all windows were blacked out so that not a hint of window was visible in the glass. The figurines were laid bare. He switched off the lights. There was just enough daylight for photography filtering down from three small skylights.
Shooting would take half an hour. He'd get the paper down, set off to the airport and hope for a flight home.
He was getting out his gear when the door opened and a small man in overalls came in, carrying a workbox. He placed this on the floor next to the glass dome. Then, with Dave staring at him, unbelieving, he embraced the dome, lifted it off, placed it gently on the floor, took a feather duster from his workbox and began dusting the figurines. He looked up and gave Dave a crooked smile.
That’s professional photography for you.
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Text and illustration ©Paul Wigmore 2010
