Body, Image, Photography, Propriety

I have been seeing someone--in a romantic sense that is--for a few months now. She is sharp, playful, genuine, straightforward, and in many ways a complete delight. Only now am I no longer regularly surprised by the clarity of communication, the eagerness for understanding, and the affectionate space constantly expanded to make sense of each other's thoughts and feelings. In addition, she regularly pushes herself to try out the unfamiliar; in the commonplace by tasting unfamiliar food and drink, or by the more anxious such as posing for nude photography.

This, I might add, is what inspires my thoughts and has preoccupied them for a few days.

My immediate response to Dreux being interested was fairly neutral: if she's interested in it, then do it. This isn't surprising in that I pride myself in being supportive of my partners and friends, especially when it is clear that the goal; for Dreux this would be exploring some of the uncomfortable and anxiety-producing space that captivates here. It wouldn't be that different from trying rock climbing out or--if the mood took her and the morality were appropriate--a game hunt. She wants to know what that that world feels like for her, how might it feel for others. This is one reason, or I like to think anyway, that I am so captivated by her and that she is so concerned with high quality communication.

Up until Tuesday morning, this is more or less where I left my thoughts. That morning, Dreux was looking over the photographer's work: a gallery of women, nude and clothed, mostly in wooded settings, occasionally using some fabric or prop to highlight form and light in the image. It was perhaps only then that I realized there would be a photographer actually doing the photographer. I assumed--rightly, as it turned out--that the photographer was a man. The only other person I had considered up until this point was a friend of Dreux's, well-versed in modeling and actually making a career of it. Enough friends and friends of friends have done modeling that I shouldn't have been surprised, but I surprised myself by thinking exclusively of Dreux (with only minor consideration of her friend) as the agent in this photo shoot. The image, so to speak, got a little more interesting on Tuesday.

I admit that questions of trust come to mind. I trust Dreux, and because I do, I also trust the friend who arranged the photo shoot. Neither of them have worked with this photographer, thought that is more a matter of timing than anything. Where the question of trust, or perhaps distrust comes in, is why a photographer would work so explicitly in the female form as a medium for expression. Nudity, human form, the way light works over flesh, the interaction of curvilinear forms and the angular wooded settings, I can understand the richness of such a medium. What happens (or what happened in my mind as Dreux showed me the photographer's work) was the appropriation of these women's image by the photographer. I think Dreux reflected on this as she spoke with the photographer over the phone, realizing that these images of her would not be hers.

This distinction, being of but not owned by that person, is what is most interesting and problematic. There will be release forms and contracts, just as there might be for documenting a campus event for the newspaper in which the photojournalist uses an image to tell the story of the article. What is different--or perhaps elsewhere on the same spectrum--is that the photographer isn't a journalist, he (in this case, though I do not pretend to speak in an exclusive manner) is constructing an image, a piece, a world, an exhibition with these bodies--these women's bodies--who are not his. Rather, through contract and direction, through light on film, chemical baths and dark rooms with glimmering red lights, these women have given him their bodies for use.

I think that Dreux's initial concern when she raised the topic to me--though she has not been explicit in confirming this--is that I would have some sense of proprietary about her participation. I think many partners--I want to default to men, but doubt that it is an exclusively masculine trait--would be unnerved in some way in this situation, musing in some form of, "Your body is something intimately given, intimately shared. To give your image a way is a breach (maybe a challenge of annulment) of that intimacy." This could be thought of as a "sympathetic" explanation of practices that conceal women's bodies from public places. In some ways, I understand Dreux's reasons enough to know that this is not the case; she is exploring out of her own curiosity and pressure on herself to make herself uncomfortable, if it might provide insight or amusement.

Instead--and this is why it took looking at the gallery of other images to come to mind--I wonder about the proprietary attitude of the photographer. Who are these women--and as far as I could tell, these were exclusively women subjects--to the photographer? How does he maintain them as individuals, as subjects while necessarily appropriating their image and objectifying them? And if the question is "capturing" some "character" or "spirit" of the subject (stealing from phrases that come to mind, not any words of the photographer himself), then how is direction to the model defended? Is the model preserved as anything more than just a pretty suite of forms and light, a pleasant play of light?

Let me point out two things here: First, I have transitioned from referring to Dreux directly, to referring to "the subject" and "the model." This was unintentional, though not unsurprising given my analysis and the fact that the shoot is today. I clearly have some tension arising from questions--to me, significant ethical questions concerning photography and modeling--that I cannot here answer. I can put some distance between myself and my inability to know. Second, I have--and somewhat intentionally--assumed an unsympathetic if not hostile posture towards this photographer in particular and modeling in general. I recognize this, but have hoped to provide a transition from the photographer as a passive or entirely absent agent--in my early thoughts on the subject--to the arbiter of the entire situation. I am not exactly there, but have displayed some range of how the photographer might be perceived. Dreux, I am sure given the phone discussion and her own attention to self, will not allow herself to be pushed to perform outside of what she finds appropriate. (Phrasing that clunky sentence is difficult, as this is clearly stretching her comfort zone. Does this contextualization itself allow/encourage giving up more agency or less?)

What I'm left with are questions I still cannot answer. What I can do is project various identities onto the most unknown figure: the photographer. Rather than accept not knowing, or waiting to hear some explanations/defenses, I can project various images of my own onto him. The photographer develops--without further insights and information--into a reservoir for all the voyeuristic and coercive masculine traits that I want to disown and challenge.

I am sure that there are more concise and critical explorations of modeling, informed by feminist theory and the rest, but I have been playing with these ideas for a few days and wanted to get them down. In addition, I owe it to Dreux to give space to explain what has been in my head, as this could not easily be unpacked in a strictly conversational space. Given a "passive" photographer, I have little concern about Dreux's participation in modeling. Such a photographer doesn't exist; instead, I have an agent positioned in what feels like an ethically problematic space. Ethically problematic not because of propriety of a partner--who wants to preserve the intimacy shared between them and what feels pretty much juvenile--but because of the propriety of the photographer taking a person and sublimating the body into an image (or series of images).

Have I come upon any unexpected answers? Not really. But at least I have something to share with Dreux.

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Note: This probably needs some editing, which I may do in the next few days or entirely postpone. This is just a blog after all.