From Issue 105 — Serious Play – The Art of Dismemberment
Light and sweet, please, I say to the counter gal at the Italian bakery down the street from me in Astoria. If you’re a New Yorker, you know what’s up. Milk, 2 sugars, Bunn brewed coffee with that orange handled carafe, that tastes better than any bougie coffee you could think of when coming back from a 6am street shoot in FiDi, and suffice it to say, I know bougie, and coffee.
I’ve had my fair share of cups of coffee over the years. When I was a printing apprentice with Chuck, who was from India, the bodega across the street made his coffee like the kind he had living in India… half a bag of sugar, 3 creams, splash of coffee and a Marlboro Red to go. I’d have the same, sans cigarette.
When I’m on set with luxury brands, it’s Keurig or bust. Recording sessions in midtown, deli coffee and a bagel. Midday client meets, French Press and black. While I adore the life of light roast coffee and it’s complexities, for me coffee is just magic. It’s the same magic I see when my client’s eyes light up for the first time that tickles their soul.
I sit down with my guy Frankie for a few minutes to chat it up. He’s just back from holiday in Corsica, and for me, the coffee is my respite before writing this letter. He pulls out a photo a beautiful woman he’s seeing.
She’s got the eyes.
And then he ask’s me… “Why is it most women I photograph with my phone tell me that that’s not them in the photograph?”
I reply along the standard response lines of, maybe it’s the angle, the light, insecurity (this is a whole article unto itself), the mirror vs. reality, and other odds and ends. But honestly, after 15 years grinding it out here in this city, it’s all in the eyes.
Like so many cups of coffee over the years, I’ve tasted eyes of all backgrounds, economic worlds, faiths, professions, power structures etcetera in the studio. And the truth of it, if you’re really tasting, I mean really listening, the eyes, they all tell different stories and aren’t bothered by that surface level banality. No two sets are alike. Facial expressions, body positions, outfits, hair & makeup may say one thing, but the eyes, they can’t hide. They don’t and they won’t, regardless of how hard you and I try.
Honestly, I wish I didn’t search them out or find them, those moments of expression, it would likely make me a better fashion photographer. But I’m drawn in, addicted. I want what’s behind the expression of happiness, sadness, joy, exasperation, tumult and other adjectives. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll take the Gucci shoes, Chanel bag, and Dior outfit to capture you in, however those are just the appetizers to the main course.
But first, Coffee.
KARJAKA, I has our eyes on the multimedia-ed artist Isabella Ronchetti as this month’s cover artist. What’s behind those eyes is an absurd journey through the surrealist art that is Isabella. Explore her studio, story and soon to launch kickstarter of her surrealist card game in this clearly boring Issue of KARJAKA.
