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I feel as if most of the time I don't dream. At least, it is uncommon for me to have upon waking more than the most fragmentary recall of more than two or three a year.
Apparently, one of these has already taken place in 2011.
Sometime before waking this morning, I had a dream wherein I was interviewing for a photographic job. I'm not sure why, because it was clear that I didn't need a job and didn't particularly have time for one, but I was interviewing anyway.
I met with the guy around Pacific Science Centre, and pretty instantly had the feeling that I didn't want to work with/for him. He was pleasant enough, but seemed to ooze that stereotypical used-car salesman unctuousness which made him feel a little slimy and less than trustworthy.
He asked good questions, but somehow had gotten my old portfolio from when I was working in photography (rough timeline: early '90s), and was asking things about the work in it. [For reference, I worked in a few studios, did some freelance work, and occasionally handled the odd assignment for the newspaper for which I wrote.] Some of the questions were reasonable- "How did you light this shot?", "What did you use to get this effect?", "What filters were used here?" Then there were some odd, but technical questions- "What were the exposure and aperture values for this shot?", "What sort of film did you use for this?"
I can answer those. The first set were pretty easy- I can still draw lighting diagrammes with fair ease, and if I could recognize from the style or content where I was working for the particular shot, I remember fairly clearly what the lighting available was in each case, at least to the number of lights available if not the actual brands/models/specs. The effects and filtering questions aren't significantly more difficult, but they're largely technical knowledge.
The second set are a little more obscure, but not that much worse, and a reasonable test of technical merit. Things shot under studio lighting are usually exposed at the synch speed the camera allows- the default then was 1/60th of a second, and whether the camera in question was a Hasselblad 500 C/M, a Mamiya RB67, or one of a number of different 35mm bodies, the lens selection is pretty straightforward- on a 35mm, for instance, portraiture usually works well with lenses between about 90 and 135mm; on a medium format you'd look at 120-180 or so. Film type is reasonably comparable- high v. low speed, different types have slightly different characteristics. He seemed a little irritated at one point that I couldn't with any certainty say whether something was shot on 120 or 220 Kodak VPS (which was pretty much the benchmark in the day for portraiture, nominally an ISO 160 film, but conventionally over-exposed 2/3 stop at ISO 100), which seemed weird, because the difference is whether the film is all paper-backed (120) or just has paper leading and following (220)- which is all contingent on the film back in use. [For those of you who may not be up on it- which I suspect are almost all who haven't been scared off by the camera-geek talk by this point- 220 film allows twice as many shots per roll as 120 by not being fully paper backed, but lacking the paper, it can more easily be scratched by any debris which has gotten into the film back. There's no distinction between the film bases at all, they'd both go into the same sorts of cameras, so even from a negative, there's no way to tell whether it had a paper layer or not.]
The third tier of questions was really bizarre. He pointed at one of the bridal portraits in the book and asked what the bride's name was. He asked about one of the subjects in a modelling composite (which I don't think is actually in my ancient portfolio, although I remember the shot in question), "Was she really that hot?" and about another "Do you think she'd go out with me." In the photojournalistic section of my book, there are a handful of prints accompanied by the newspaper articles with which they ran. One of these is a shot of former Vice-President R. Danforth "Potatoe" Quayle, who had been in town to support the candidacy of John Ellis "Jeb" Bush (incidentally, the bright one of the Bush family- he's a very good speaker and conveys the impression of knowing what he talks about, not like his ex-President brother). "Who's this guy? Why the hell would you take a picture of him?" Dude, it ran A-1, above the fold in a regional newspaper. It's at worst a demonstration in latitude, as handheld photojournalism, candid portraiture- it belongs for a handful of reasons. There are a few hockey pictures, from covering Lightning games in Tampa Bay. He critiques these as being too grainy to use anywhere. Granted, I wouldn't print most of them 8x10 or larger for personal display, but in the context of appearing alongside the articles, they're there, and at that size because everything else is printed that size. They also look reasonably sharp in their reproduction in print, to the point that you can make out the puck in one of former Lightning centre Chris Gratton sneaking a game-winning wrist-shot over Patrick Roy's glove hand- not bad for a handheld shot with a 250mm lens at 1/250th (or so) of a second exposure (and from the opposite end of the rink). It ran, C-1, full bleed, and the article is right there with it.
The interview didn't touch on any of the digital stuff I've done in the last three years and which is what I'm comfortable with shooting now. For what it's worth, I think my photographic vision is better now than it was then, because I'm not concerned with shooting things which are likely salable images and because shooting digitally lets me take a quick look to determine if I captured what I wanted right away and if not I can take another. I'm also not working under the pressure of trying to eke out a living at it, so there's a lot more joy in the art than there used to be. And I'm not shooting weddings, which stressed me out to no small extent. I think there are some decent pieces which I've shot in the last few years which would print well and would belong in a portfolio if I ever wanted to re-enter the field; but I certainly don't want to work for a guy like the one with whom I interviewed in my dream.
Apparently, one of these has already taken place in 2011.
Sometime before waking this morning, I had a dream wherein I was interviewing for a photographic job. I'm not sure why, because it was clear that I didn't need a job and didn't particularly have time for one, but I was interviewing anyway.
I met with the guy around Pacific Science Centre, and pretty instantly had the feeling that I didn't want to work with/for him. He was pleasant enough, but seemed to ooze that stereotypical used-car salesman unctuousness which made him feel a little slimy and less than trustworthy.
He asked good questions, but somehow had gotten my old portfolio from when I was working in photography (rough timeline: early '90s), and was asking things about the work in it. [For reference, I worked in a few studios, did some freelance work, and occasionally handled the odd assignment for the newspaper for which I wrote.] Some of the questions were reasonable- "How did you light this shot?", "What did you use to get this effect?", "What filters were used here?" Then there were some odd, but technical questions- "What were the exposure and aperture values for this shot?", "What sort of film did you use for this?"
I can answer those. The first set were pretty easy- I can still draw lighting diagrammes with fair ease, and if I could recognize from the style or content where I was working for the particular shot, I remember fairly clearly what the lighting available was in each case, at least to the number of lights available if not the actual brands/models/specs. The effects and filtering questions aren't significantly more difficult, but they're largely technical knowledge.
The second set are a little more obscure, but not that much worse, and a reasonable test of technical merit. Things shot under studio lighting are usually exposed at the synch speed the camera allows- the default then was 1/60th of a second, and whether the camera in question was a Hasselblad 500 C/M, a Mamiya RB67, or one of a number of different 35mm bodies, the lens selection is pretty straightforward- on a 35mm, for instance, portraiture usually works well with lenses between about 90 and 135mm; on a medium format you'd look at 120-180 or so. Film type is reasonably comparable- high v. low speed, different types have slightly different characteristics. He seemed a little irritated at one point that I couldn't with any certainty say whether something was shot on 120 or 220 Kodak VPS (which was pretty much the benchmark in the day for portraiture, nominally an ISO 160 film, but conventionally over-exposed 2/3 stop at ISO 100), which seemed weird, because the difference is whether the film is all paper-backed (120) or just has paper leading and following (220)- which is all contingent on the film back in use. [For those of you who may not be up on it- which I suspect are almost all who haven't been scared off by the camera-geek talk by this point- 220 film allows twice as many shots per roll as 120 by not being fully paper backed, but lacking the paper, it can more easily be scratched by any debris which has gotten into the film back. There's no distinction between the film bases at all, they'd both go into the same sorts of cameras, so even from a negative, there's no way to tell whether it had a paper layer or not.]
The third tier of questions was really bizarre. He pointed at one of the bridal portraits in the book and asked what the bride's name was. He asked about one of the subjects in a modelling composite (which I don't think is actually in my ancient portfolio, although I remember the shot in question), "Was she really that hot?" and about another "Do you think she'd go out with me." In the photojournalistic section of my book, there are a handful of prints accompanied by the newspaper articles with which they ran. One of these is a shot of former Vice-President R. Danforth "Potatoe" Quayle, who had been in town to support the candidacy of John Ellis "Jeb" Bush (incidentally, the bright one of the Bush family- he's a very good speaker and conveys the impression of knowing what he talks about, not like his ex-President brother). "Who's this guy? Why the hell would you take a picture of him?" Dude, it ran A-1, above the fold in a regional newspaper. It's at worst a demonstration in latitude, as handheld photojournalism, candid portraiture- it belongs for a handful of reasons. There are a few hockey pictures, from covering Lightning games in Tampa Bay. He critiques these as being too grainy to use anywhere. Granted, I wouldn't print most of them 8x10 or larger for personal display, but in the context of appearing alongside the articles, they're there, and at that size because everything else is printed that size. They also look reasonably sharp in their reproduction in print, to the point that you can make out the puck in one of former Lightning centre Chris Gratton sneaking a game-winning wrist-shot over Patrick Roy's glove hand- not bad for a handheld shot with a 250mm lens at 1/250th (or so) of a second exposure (and from the opposite end of the rink). It ran, C-1, full bleed, and the article is right there with it.
The interview didn't touch on any of the digital stuff I've done in the last three years and which is what I'm comfortable with shooting now. For what it's worth, I think my photographic vision is better now than it was then, because I'm not concerned with shooting things which are likely salable images and because shooting digitally lets me take a quick look to determine if I captured what I wanted right away and if not I can take another. I'm also not working under the pressure of trying to eke out a living at it, so there's a lot more joy in the art than there used to be. And I'm not shooting weddings, which stressed me out to no small extent. I think there are some decent pieces which I've shot in the last few years which would print well and would belong in a portfolio if I ever wanted to re-enter the field; but I certainly don't want to work for a guy like the one with whom I interviewed in my dream.
