Becoming HeyEmmaJaye Chapter 2
So, I asked one of my close friends that was in a local band if I could swing by their practice and take some photos. That is when I learned that anyone in a band will ALWAYS accept free press, in any way that they can get it. When I showed up to practice later that afternoon, I had met the rest of the band, but didn't know them as well as the guitarist. I was reluctant to start shooting, until he looked at me and said “well, we’re gunna start, are you?”. As cheesy as it sounds, that set it off for me. It was now or never. And as the sound started bouncing off of the walls, I found myself doing the same thing. I was composing photos in ways that I had never done before. I did anything that I needed to get the shot that would fly into my mind in an instant. Whether it was climbing onto the couch, or laying on the beer stained ground. I was captivated in the sound and in the way that they moved their bodies. They were so free. There was no direction intended, but the way that they moved with the music was like a cinematic daydream. I was lost in it. I can remember feeling like a fly on the wall that afternoon. Never getting in their way, almost pretending as though I wasn’t there. But I felt exclusive and like I had broken a level of intimacy. Just as Gary spoke about in class.- I had made it to the “in side of inside”.
“It is one thing to get on the inside of a special place, but another thing to to notice, or capture something inside of this special place”
- Gary Harwood (Lecture 2)
And by the time they were done, dripping sweat and exhausted - I found myself the same way. Anything that I had held onto on the way to that practice was gone. My energy was light again, I was happy again, and for the first time in a long time I felt like I truly belonged somewhere. As we were leaving the guitarist’s house, I had kept my camera in my hand. Keeping it accessible - like Gary had taught me.
“Some of the best visual people never shut off. They never slide into neutral. There is always this buzz, or current - because something can hit at any moment”
- Gary Harwood (Lecture 1)
The band and I had walked out back by their van, because I wanted to see what they toured in. And there was something about the way that they fit together - something so effortless. I had to capture it. The last photo I took that afternoon was of the band against their van. Two of them were looking at me, the drummer looking off past me. It was beautiful. A beautiful ending to the evening. I rushed back to my little apartment and started editing. I focused on these photos for hours. I had shot in monochrome, so there weren’t many adjustments that could be made, but I didn’t care. I was obsessed with every detail, until the following Tuesday. My fourth class, and the one that would change my entire world forever.
We were instructed to print out the photos and bring them to class. This was something new to me, but something about having your work physically in front of you was invigorating. I took my seat in the front row. I had decided after the very first class, that I didn’t want to miss a thing that my professor said. My margins were constantly covered with notes and quotes from the man that inspired me more than I had ever been inspired. And when I took my seat that day I was instantly terrified. Maybe intimidated is a better word for it. But either way, I was reluctant again to show my work. A few of my peers showed their assignments, including a friend that I had made after the second class. His name was Patrick. And he was a phenomenal artist. He photos instantly made you “feel” something to your core. I looked to him for advice, inspiration and the motivation to suck it up and show my work for the very first time. As my professor walked towards my desk and looked at my photos, all he said was “are you kidding me?” In that moment I knew that I had failed him. I could feel the disappointment in his tone, and see the confusion on his face. My work was shit, and I was devastated. Until he says, “Emma Jaye… this is what you are meant to do”. He went on to talk about the composition of the photos, the tones that I used, the moments that I captured and how all 10 photos had a strong point to them. I couldn’t speak, to him or to anyone. I said thank you and smiled, but I was truly in shock. On my way out of class he pulled me aside one last time and said to me again “this is what you are meant to do”. As I left Franklin hall that day, I had tears rolling down my face. I had found something that I not only loved to do, and was “good” at, but most importantly it made me feel something that I had never felt before. As soon as I got myself together, I called the guitarist and asked him when I could photograph them again.
TO BE CONTINUED
