As mentioned in a previous post, my brother always attempts to enhance my least desirable features when he photographs me (unresolved childhood issues I surmise – he says he has forgiven me for the “past abuse when I was 7 and he was 4 and I stole his Action Jim and dressed him up with the Barbie doll clothes”, but I don’t believe he has quite yet.)
I have now found the perfect solution when I submit myself to his unforgiving lens.
I love my brother but, man, he can be such a twit. A photographer, mainly of portraits and nudes, he always takes special care of making his models look like glowing goddesses. When it comes to family, especially women in the family, he takes malign pleasure in exposing every wrinkle, every skin imperfection, and anything that makes you appear monstrous. He probably never got over his childhood and takes revenge now.
When he wants to act upon his urge to make you feel ugly, he’ll pretext to need a model to test his new lighting (camera, lens, reflector, fill in with what the humeur du jour dictates.) This time, I decided to get pro-active and do things differently.
Now, that’s a portrait I can live with!
and I mean this in the best of ways.
When I am in Brussels, My brother Christopher, a photographer as well, lets me use his studio. I therefore tyrannically subject all my friends to unscheduled photo sessions. If you come to pick me up for a night on the town, you are fair game. I’ll give you a glass of wine to ease potential resistance and will drag you in front of the strobe.
Peter Peter Mark played along perfectly.