Hello Ms. Rubber, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Road...
(or, scorn is easy, respectful communication is hard...)
A hard day at the salt mines today!
I think it must be the hardest thing for your work to be a spectator sport. I feel that way when I teach, and I have the same feeling about models and photographers and folks who have to perform their job in front of a bunch of gawkers, well-wishers (and no-so-well wishers.)
And it becomes clearer to me why there are so many art shots of sweaters in books and magazines, and so few good, clear shots of the knitterly details that make a sweater comprehensible to the average knitter. You see, it's all so - well - J. Jill... (I'll explain later)
We all like to feel that we can express ourselves in our work, be creative and artistic. But there are restrictions and parameters, some of which can feel tighter and more constraining than others. Hand-knit & crocheted design is like no other kind of designing; aside from the creation and execution of the garment, instructions must be written so that an average knitter can decipher them and recreate the sweater. Key are the visual clues; schematics, charts, and not least, the actual photo of the sweater.
It's like writing a sonnet - rules must be followed, but within those parameters there can be great creativity. Finding a way to bridge the creative and the pragmatic is the hard nut to crack.
No one likes to feel like they're an automaton - mechanically dishing out what someone else has cooked. We determine if this is how we view ourselves, though. I realize that it must be very hard to be a photographer and have folks tell you what shot they need, what's vital to be communicated, when all you want to do is take a beautiful and compelling picture. However, making needs known is not a show of disrespect - it's communication.
So what have I learned in the past two days? Here are the unspoken lesson I've gleaned:
The lowest form of photography - to an artistic photographer - is catalog work.
A knitting book is just slightly above catalog work in the evolutionary scale of for-pay photography
It is possible for a hairstyle to be too J. Jill... (who knew?)
Questioning two styling choices (out of dozens) is a sign of disrespect. (once again, who knew?)
When a photographer says, "What detail do you want here?" there is no right answer. Or at least there wasn't today.
The real difficulty began and ended with two styling elements I questioned: The White Cloche Incident of Thursday spilled over into Friday when I made matters worse by questioning a pair of pants.
The lace peplum top had been styled with a pair of tattersall trousers, but because of the lace ruffle that runs around the bottom of the piece, the pairing looked very busy around the crotch area. This particular sweater is a really hard garment to style - it has odd lines, it's unusual. I felt that - being one of the more feminine pieces - a skirt would work better (and would provide a flat background to show off the lace.)
By questioning the pants I had crossed some invisible line, which was unfortunate. I brought in a few skirts, one of which we ended up using for this shot, and apparently that compounded my sin. Shoots are hard - so many raw feelings, such a heightened sensitivity permeates everything. At the end of the day the work was done, I think the photos will be absolutely gorgeous, and although I had to struggle for some of the shots which I hope will demonstrate the techniques clearly, we got them.
It just feels a shame that I had to push hard for some of them. Why asking for a skirt instead of pants for one shot should be the cause of so much grief is both a great mystery, and also painfully obvious - artists have pride, pride can get hurt.
The frustration of the photographer was palpable. It was the frustration of somone who had control of all of the details of the shoot (from the location to her stylist) only to find that she also had the input of a wacky and strong minded designer who felt it was vital to communicate knitting details in the photographs. I felt bad, the photographer felt stifled (hence the J. Jill crack, and other comments about catalog work...) but oddly - the day was still enjoyable!
I absolutely adored the hair and makeup woman, we laughed all day, and the models were so sweet! Our escort at the gardens, Hazel, was terrific and the stylist and I were able to carve a working relationship and even feel a nice bit of respect for each other at the end (I hope...) The book designer and I bonded a bit - and everyone breathed a sigh of relief that the last day of the shoot - mostly still life shots - will be designer & art director free.
Having been in this situation from the other side (as a stylist) I know how hard it is - sometimes the hardest thing in the world. I do appreciate that.
However, I have to admit that the absolute best moment in the day came when the assistant photographer looked up at the model as the above outfit was being shot and innocently commented to the stylist, "I like that skirt - it's really nice!
That was priceless.
I think it must be the hardest thing for your work to be a spectator sport. I feel that way when I teach, and I have the same feeling about models and photographers and folks who have to perform their job in front of a bunch of gawkers, well-wishers (and no-so-well wishers.)
And it becomes clearer to me why there are so many art shots of sweaters in books and magazines, and so few good, clear shots of the knitterly details that make a sweater comprehensible to the average knitter. You see, it's all so - well - J. Jill... (I'll explain later)
We all like to feel that we can express ourselves in our work, be creative and artistic. But there are restrictions and parameters, some of which can feel tighter and more constraining than others. Hand-knit & crocheted design is like no other kind of designing; aside from the creation and execution of the garment, instructions must be written so that an average knitter can decipher them and recreate the sweater. Key are the visual clues; schematics, charts, and not least, the actual photo of the sweater.
It's like writing a sonnet - rules must be followed, but within those parameters there can be great creativity. Finding a way to bridge the creative and the pragmatic is the hard nut to crack.
No one likes to feel like they're an automaton - mechanically dishing out what someone else has cooked. We determine if this is how we view ourselves, though. I realize that it must be very hard to be a photographer and have folks tell you what shot they need, what's vital to be communicated, when all you want to do is take a beautiful and compelling picture. However, making needs known is not a show of disrespect - it's communication.
So what have I learned in the past two days? Here are the unspoken lesson I've gleaned:
The lowest form of photography - to an artistic photographer - is catalog work.
A knitting book is just slightly above catalog work in the evolutionary scale of for-pay photography
It is possible for a hairstyle to be too J. Jill... (who knew?)
Questioning two styling choices (out of dozens) is a sign of disrespect. (once again, who knew?)
When a photographer says, "What detail do you want here?" there is no right answer. Or at least there wasn't today.
The real difficulty began and ended with two styling elements I questioned: The White Cloche Incident of Thursday spilled over into Friday when I made matters worse by questioning a pair of pants. The lace peplum top had been styled with a pair of tattersall trousers, but because of the lace ruffle that runs around the bottom of the piece, the pairing looked very busy around the crotch area. This particular sweater is a really hard garment to style - it has odd lines, it's unusual. I felt that - being one of the more feminine pieces - a skirt would work better (and would provide a flat background to show off the lace.)
By questioning the pants I had crossed some invisible line, which was unfortunate. I brought in a few skirts, one of which we ended up using for this shot, and apparently that compounded my sin. Shoots are hard - so many raw feelings, such a heightened sensitivity permeates everything. At the end of the day the work was done, I think the photos will be absolutely gorgeous, and although I had to struggle for some of the shots which I hope will demonstrate the techniques clearly, we got them.
It just feels a shame that I had to push hard for some of them. Why asking for a skirt instead of pants for one shot should be the cause of so much grief is both a great mystery, and also painfully obvious - artists have pride, pride can get hurt.
The frustration of the photographer was palpable. It was the frustration of somone who had control of all of the details of the shoot (from the location to her stylist) only to find that she also had the input of a wacky and strong minded designer who felt it was vital to communicate knitting details in the photographs. I felt bad, the photographer felt stifled (hence the J. Jill crack, and other comments about catalog work...) but oddly - the day was still enjoyable!
I absolutely adored the hair and makeup woman, we laughed all day, and the models were so sweet! Our escort at the gardens, Hazel, was terrific and the stylist and I were able to carve a working relationship and even feel a nice bit of respect for each other at the end (I hope...) The book designer and I bonded a bit - and everyone breathed a sigh of relief that the last day of the shoot - mostly still life shots - will be designer & art director free.
Having been in this situation from the other side (as a stylist) I know how hard it is - sometimes the hardest thing in the world. I do appreciate that.
However, I have to admit that the absolute best moment in the day came when the assistant photographer looked up at the model as the above outfit was being shot and innocently commented to the stylist, "I like that skirt - it's really nice!
That was priceless.
11 Comments:
I agree with you; the skirt was a far better choice to show off the top and its lace.
to me, the top and skirt displays a natural smooth flow.
the top and pants reminds me of a speed bump - top, bump, pants. and yes, this pairing just screams "look at my crotch!"
I just put "men who knit..." on my amazon.com wish list; I have a birthday coming up soon. and if not received for birthday, the holidays are fast approaching.
anne marie in philly
Love the peplum top with the skirt - I also think it is shown off to its best with that companion piece. I would NEVER put it with those pants! Good for you for holding your ground.
If you need to have a little more input on the photo shoot than most of their clients, that's your right. Although the photograph has their name on it, it's YOUR work that's being photographed. When you get right down to it, YOU are the one who is paying THEM. She who signs the checks calls the shots. (Even if the checks aren't being signed directly by you - but you know what I mean.)
Maybe you can try a hypothetical with them. "Say your photos are going on display at a gallery. You walk in and find that the gallery owner is making decisions about what kind of frame to use, what matte color, where the photos are being hung, and so forth. What would YOU do?"
It sounds like they may not understand that to you, these knitted items of clothing are your works of art, and YOU HAVE INPUT, DAMMIT. (Or maybe they do understand and don't care - in which case, maybe next time you can find a more understanding set of photo people, who will be more appreciative - or at least tolerant - of your desire to be involved in the process.)
Well, I was going to type what Erika said, but she said it so well.
It's your artistic work. Also, THANK YOU for being firm about knitting pictures showing the knitting! When I go to knit something, I use the directions and the pictures. Sometimes, what a pattern designer can't say in words, I get from looking at the finished product.
You're great!
Having been an art director for various studio and outdoor shoots, I have to say that the photographer takes the photos, the stylist creates the look, and the client and the art director have THE FINAL SAY. You were in the right. Toes will get trodden upon, but in the end it's YOUR PRODUCT. Stylists, photographers, models, etc. are paid to do a service, and that's that.
Love the assistant's comment! Ha!
- MJ
I agree with Erika. This isn't a time for a stylist's ego. It's not about the stylist - it's about your designs. Period. They are working FOR you, not WITH you. The project isn't a collaboration.
That said, I wonder how many stylist and photographers *do* win these battles? There are far too many knitting books and magazines whose photos show far too little of the actual garment or object I am attempting to knit because of poor styling/lighting/mood choices.
Um, really who cares if the models hair looks too J. Jill? I'm not knitting the hair style but I am knitting the sweater.
Glad you pused to have the knitting details showing in the photos. In Inspired Cable Knits by Fiona Ellis (also published by Potter), some of the sweaters have no photo that shows the details, even the cable designs are sometimes blurred. It is really frustrating for such a gorgeous book to be lacking photos that allow the knitter to see the construction and details of the knitting.
Glad you pused to have the knitting details showing in the photos. In Inspired Cable Knits by Fiona Ellis (also published by Potter), some of the sweaters have no photo that shows the details, even the cable designs are sometimes blurred. It is really frustrating for such a gorgeous book to be lacking photos that allow the knitter to see the construction and details of the knitting.
I just saw your new Knitty Gritty episode. I loved it. You were so meant to be on t.v. I always love watching the episode where you make the chair seat. Now I have 2 I can watch.
And the mention of the group for your Corset-a-long. It brought back fun memories!
:)
Do you think Marc Jacobs or Tom Ford have photographers that diss them (to their faces, I mean?)
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