max s. gerber(the latest shot)

in many photo shoots there exists a moment when it becomes possible to drastically shift the whole dynamic, tone and message of the picture. sometimes this shift happens in a decidedly weird or silly direction. then again, i’m a big believer in the idea that you can do very absurd things in photographs just so long as you play it totally straight.

i don’t generally like smiling pictures. you may have already noticed this by now. that is to say, i don’t like it when people smile because they’re being photographed. at it’s very best that’s disingenuous. people are usually not particularly happy about being in a picture. at it’s worst it’s just plain insincere. i always tell my subjects that they are absolutely free to smile in my pictures if the smiles are real – if something is funny, let’s say. very often things are funny, i’d like to think my subjects usually end up enjoying our sessions, though at the end i find that the serious pictures resonate with me much more. perhaps this has to do with my inherent cynicism or pessimism. that’s possible. perhaps it’s got something to do with people often grinning like idiots. hard to say.

anyway, we were photographing brandon for a serious publication, for a serious article; about lawyers who had been laid off of their jobs. brandon was recently let go from his firm and instead of going after a new law job he decided to take his legal talents into the music industry as artist management and promotion. the idea was to photograph him at home (where he conducted most of his new work) and see what life was like for the out-of-work lawyer.

once we were partway through the first set up i happened to notice that on the top of his bookshelf brandon had a plastic optimus prime robot helmet. sometimes you just have to ask. i mean, really. you have to ask. you’ve got nothing to lose. so i asked. and brandon said yes. he put the robot helmet on and got back into the same shot, and everything changed. the helmet even had a voice modulator so that when he talked it sounded like a cool plastic robot voice.

paul and i both knew that the magazine was highly unlikely to ever use these pictures. even brandon knew they were unlikely to be published. maybe that’s why he was so agreeable. but damn if that didn’t make the day a whole lot more special than i thought it was going to be when i loaded up the car in the morning. at the very least i thought the photo editor would have a chuckle going through the take.

the funny thing is brandon said he loved wearing the robot helmet. why, you ask? he said:

“i can smile in here, and you can’t tell.”

and just to reassure any current or future clients who may be thinking of hiring me (you’re saints, each and every one of you. . .) don’t worry: i did variations without the robot helmet, too. ultimately one of these were published, as the picture was just one of many in a larger story, and for some totally unexplainable reasons nobody else was wearing a plastic optimus prime mask on their heads. i know, hard to believe.

a couple weeks after these pictures were taken i was at a target and i saw a whole display with about two dozen optimus prime robot helmets. they were $30. i have to tell you, in all honesty, i stopped in front of that display for a very long time and thought long and hard about buying one just to keep in the light case. i mean, you never can tell.

my thanks to the indefatigable maggie for continually hiring me despite silly things like this. you’re a saint among saints, indeed.