L’art de renard et rose: The beginning of
things to come
A seaside town, a flat
to ourselves, and a wonderful weekend of catching up.
It was as if the skies
knew we were coming. They were on their best behaviour, providing actual rays
of sunshine on Saturday afternoon and glowing softly for the rest of the time.
The sky on the (very early!) Sunday morning was beautiful - shades of pinks and
purples lighting our photographs perfectly. Compared to the dull weather
usually experienced this was an absolute blessing!
We’d been planning
this weekend for a while, emailing back and forth whenever we both got a spare
minute in our frantic lives: discussing ideas, inspirations, artists, prop
lists and anything else we thought of. As a result we both had quite clear
ideas in our minds about the photos we wanted. This is potentially brilliant,
but can be limiting as you’re constantly working towards that one photo in your
head instead of letting the creativity flow and going more with instinct or
spontaneity.
Florence:
The first shoot we did
was more about fun than anything else - leaping about in the sand, daring to
venture into the freezing waves and spinning about in fancy frocks. Although we
were lucky with the weather we encountered the problem of unbalanced light with
the contrast between the foreground/subject, and the bright sky behind us. This
became frustrating while shooting, as we lacked a flash to balance out the
requirements of needing different exposures for the foreground and background.
Dresses all belonged
to Roz (I’m not ashamed to admit she’s definitely the fashionista of the two of
us!) and worked perfectly for the shoots.
The seaside location I
speak of is Barmouth, a small town in Wales where the usual dress code is
unsightly tracksuits or the walkers’ uniform of muddy boots and anoraks. It’s
safe to say we may have caused quite a stir strutting out in evening gowns, fur
coats and wellies! In fact at one point we had some tourists filming our shoot,
which was quite hilarious.
The next morning we
very begrudgingly got up just as the sun did and trudged down to the beach to
take the photos planned the night before. Safe to say we were both on the verge
of cancelling as we lay in our warm cosy bunk beds when the alarm went off at
7, but I’m so glad we forced ourselves up!
The photographs were
created very much with the little mermaid in mind. As she crawled out of the waves, leaving her natural home behind, she
noticed the two, slim pale limbs where her shimmering tail had once been. She
lay, exhausted, on the steps basking in the new morning light, and wondered of
days to come in this unfamiliar world.
Rosalind:
Numb toes, stiff
fingers and sandy hair are the natural side effects of seaside shoots in
November. As Flo and I swapped from photographer to model and back again, we
rubbed our hands and hunched in cosy faux fur. The wind was cold, but the waves
were colder still. For each serene facial expression there was a matching
photo, quickly deleted, full of grimaces or tensed shoulders. But such are the
sacrifices made for the sake of photography. There’s always a bacon sandwich or
a pot of coffee to return to; a retreat to the warmth of the indoors after the
bitter bite of the sea.
I was the luckier of
the two – requiring only a brief jump into the estuary on Saturday afternoon.
My skin was already buzzing from repeated leaps across the sand, but my shins
tingled as they made contact with water. Such discomfort did not detract from
the dizzying brilliance of the shoot though; of Flo and I venturing out into
the landscape, cameras and tripods in cases and towels on standby, to work
together. It’s the process of forming a narrative, whether one is snapping and
framing or moving and posing. Both roles require particular skills. Portraying
a certain character or mood is quite different to deciding on composition, but
somehow the two of us achieve a synthesis – collaborating together on each
image.
The clothes I provided
were pulled out of my dressing up box the previous evening. My suitcase bulged
with pink satin, translucent fabrics, silks, drapery and velvet – with just
enough room for practical clothes and a book. I had enough ballgowns to dress a
small group of debutantes, and more than enough to fulfil the brief.
The two of us talked
quite extensively about the paradoxes of the sea – the combined qualities of
vulnerability and strength, safety and danger, serenity and storm. These formed
the basis of the loose concepts behind each set of photos. We wished to inhabit
some of these juxtapositions, working towards the concept of passivity versus
power. We looked up welsh folklore and traditional tales – drawing on a
combination of sirens, selkies, mermaids and women of the water. But
ultimately, along with the desire to evoke a story and suggest beauty, these
shoots were also about the two of us spending time together, enjoying our work
and having a bloody good time.
