|
|
 |
Sculpture Park Commission
One of the great advantages of being a so-called 'jobbing freelancer' (a rather derogatory term I always feel - a bit like referring to table tennis as 'ping pong') is that if you fancy something a bit different and are prepared to put out the feelers, it really is possible to achieve a more rewarding variety of work to spice-up your professional life just when things seem to be getting a little stale. Without turning yourself into a jack-of-all-trades, opportunities and commissions which you once thought were out of your range, ability, or interest, can go on to inspire you and test your resourcefulness and creativity while you find yourself enjoying every minute of it. Personally, I'd rather stay as a freelancer because of this variety, even though, it could be argued, I might earn rather more standing for hours on end in the rain outside some seedy London restaurant waiting to get a shot of some here-today-gone-tomorrow C-list celebrity.
In order to bridge a short-term gap between the end of one studio lease and the start of another, I rented some studio space from a group of local artists who had formed themselves into a registered co-operative (of which I had to become a member) and carved-up the floor space of a large unused warehouse into smaller high-sided studio units available at a very affordable monthly rent. Ok...so facilities were a bit limited, and it was not the ideal place to bring certain clients (the type who expect comfy sofas and cold water dispensers), but it was nevertheless a very vibrant, productive and creative environment in which to work.
I've always enjoyed working with artists and sculptors, and became good friends with many of those I worked around. It was the kind of place where you couldn't help bumping into new people all the time. One year on from this particular episode, I had a call from the co-ordinator of the Norwich Sculpture Park asking me if I'd be interested in a paid commission to document the siting and opening of their bi-annual sculpture trail. This opportunity came about because I had got to know and mix with most of the artists from this community and they had put my name forward as a 'possible contender'. The photographers generous fee had been raised by the overseeing committee through an intensive bout of fund-raising from grant-giving trusts and local businesses (artists in my experience are very good at this sort of thing!) and what seemed to push my name up to the top of their selection list was the fact that I had lived and worked within their community and was generally considered to be a 'good egg' and someone who would treat the commission with the necessary degree of respect. The brief itself was a very open one as I was expected
to shadow the comings and goings of the 20-or-so artists involved and
present a coherent exhibition at the end of it. The fee payable was half
upfront and the remainder on completion. I was given a generous materials
budget at the beginning and had to watch my expenditure like a hawk throughout
the duration of the commission. As with many commissions of this type,
it was up to me to arrange my time accordingly - no art directors or account
managers standing over my shoulder on this occasion.
I had decided from an early stage that I would be working in black & white and using natural light in all circumstances. I didn't want to use colour because I felt that this would primarily be a project based on the people and places involved and colour could so easily (though not always by any means) mask or deflect our ability to read the subtleties of form and texture which b&w so readily responds to. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoy working in colour but on this occasion I wanted complete control over the whole process even though I knew the production of the images would necessarily take longer. Added to this, I was aching to get back into the darkroom and get my hands wet with all that messy chemistry of b&w processing again since a good 90% of my recent commissions were all done in colour.
I felt also that it would be important to take a naturalistic, reportage-style approach to the commission. To attempt anything more 'arty' I felt would be to selfishly impose a style statement of mine upon the collective endeavours of a lot of other peoples blood, sweat, and tears, so there would be no formal portraits, no interruptions or interventions on my part - I would simply observe and record as honestly as possible the comings and goings of this hard-working and dedicated bunch. Over the course of the following week I managed to contact most of the sculptors involved in the Sculpture Park and worked out a loose timetable based around when they might be available, what they might be doing (ie just how photogenic their particular activity would be on that day), and generally just tried to introduce myself to them and pick up any 'vibe' about whether they were laid-back and cool about anything, slightly anxious but willing to co-operate, or really just wanted to be left alone. I'm pleased to say that I found virtually everyone ready, willing, and able to allow themselves to be photographed - only a tiny minority were camera-shy, but after reassuring them that (a) they wouldn't have to pose, and (b) that I would not disrupt them or their preparations in any way, they came round to the idea in the end.
As work progressed I realised that much of the time required
to complete the commission (paid for within the overall fee) was being
spent either on the phone or on tedious administrative tasks rather than
on the photography itself. I'd come across this issue several times before,
but in this instance, I was having to re-schedule other jobs to make way
for a particularly interesting afternoon with a tree artwork installation,
or having to make abrupt assessments as to whether one artists last minute
work with an arc welder would make a better subject than another artists
delivery and placement of their work at the only indoor site of the sculpture
trail. All the artists of course simply had their own agendas to keep
to - it was up to me to judge which events were to be visited and which
would be passed-over.
After meeting-up with an artist at wherever they happened to be, I'd chat with them for a minute or two and explain that I would merge into the background and that they would go about their work eventually becoming oblivious to my presence. In the main this worked well and after ten minutes or so, they accepted my presence but chose to ignore me except when I moved in closer for a reaction shot or to highlight some detail in a piece of work. I had to adopt some pretty extreme positions in order to get the pictures I wanted - in some cases climbing up a tree before the artwork and artist, and in other situations I had to wade knee-high in a river in order to get a shot of artists at work on the riverbank.
As far as the printing was concerned, I decided to develop and contact print each film as and when it was ready, and save up all the printing to do in one uninterrupted weekend once I had gathered all the material together to scrutinise and edit from the contact sheets. In this way I'd be able to review the project in its entirety. For me, this is one of the most enjoyable aspects of a black & white project - to sit down with a large whisky in one hand, an agfa loup in the other, and revisit the whole experience through thumbnail images. Its possible to be much more objective and self-critical by saving all judgements over printing until the end rather than interrupting the gathering of material now because you become excited by the prospect of one amazing image which you just have to print immediately. Out of 9 rolls of 36-exposure film, I ended up printing 20 exhibition prints. It doesn't take a mathematical genius to work out that for every image I decided to print I left 16.2 pictures well alone. For a documentary project of this type I'm more than happy with that ratio. This might sound a little trigger-happy but there is just no point in being stingy with materials when your reputation and your own standards are threatened with compromise. In some of the situations I found myself in with this commission, I could spend 4 hours with one artist and take 6 photos, or I could spend an intensive half hour with another, and come away with 26 photos - each situation drives its own demands, and instinct determines the pace at which your film is used, not financial constraints or other inhibiting factors.
Once the Sculpture Trail exhibition was opened to the public, my prints were shown and they went on to become an archive in their own right. Some of the participants wanted prints which I printed and sold separately at a reduced rate, and other smaller 10'x 8' prints were used for publicity within the arts press and also to accompany further fundraising activities. Because of the large network involved in this project, many other opportunities and sales came my way over the following year. As an 'economic sector' the artistic community are forever under-funded and under-valued. Working with this project was a joy because the people involved were refreshingly open-minded and enthusiastic about what they do - unlike some of the vain, grey-suited company directors of Broadland Widgets plc or some other such commercial enterprise. I felt professionally-refreshed after completing this commission and was grateful for the opportunity to do it. Despite spending more than double the allocated time paid for in order to complete, I gained much more in terms of my own creative energy and rejuvinated enthusiasm for the medium of photography - this fortnight of activity enabled me to take a step back from the usual pressures of freelance life and return (with a spring in my step) to more usual routines once the exhibition was over. I'd do it all over again if I could.
|
