With our boy Oli, there are only two modus operandi. Unstoppable terror or sleeping beauty. Here are glimpses of the latter, an incredibly rare sight for the occasional visitor, but a respite of tranquility for his owners.
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Who knew the C train goes from W 4th all the way to Africa? Well, apparently the answer is five million people per year, and last weekend I made my first pilgrimage along the route ending at the American Museum of Natural History. Loaded up with a 50mm and the big white telephoto, I roamed the hallowed halls with the sole intention of photographing the famous dioramas. I must admit, I felt a wee bit self-conscious shooting with the hefty zoom, a feeling only heightened by a backward glance that revealed hoards of tourists snapping happily with little more than iphones in hand. But soon the apprehension wore off, and I began to really enjoy the entire experience. The static models and restrictive perspective contrasted greatly with my usual style of street shooting, but the constrained environment presented a new and interesting challenge. The question became how can I photograph the African Mammal hall, a truly historic attraction viewed by more eyeballs than I care to imagine, in a new or unexpected way? How can I create images so that a passerby might actually mistake them for something shot on location, manipulating framing and perspective to eliminate the posed feel altogether? Often I found myself going the opposite route, seeking out overtly opaque drools or awkwardly taxidermied animal expressions, highlighting the quirky details that made each presentation unique. In the end, I am neither foolish nor egotistical enough to believe that I am the first (or last) to create images like these, but it was awesome to play tourist-with-a-camera for a day at this New York icon.
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You may think that life with young Oliver is all rainbows and unicorns. Well for the most part it is, but like every little bundle of joy, there also exists a daily routine of the rambunctious variety.
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As any self-preserving boyfriend will tell you, behind every man there’s a great woman. And while I’d love to sit here and tell you I’m solely responsible for teaching the young pup all he knows, the same rings true for prince Oli. The momma is quite literally the reason we have a frenchie to come home too, but more importantly the reason that this frenchie has turned into such an adorable little creature.
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Should Old Acquaintance be forgot, and never thought upon; The flames of Love extinguished, and fully past and gone. New Years Eve has come and gone, and with it the quintessential New Years Eve ballad. While I must admit, it does seem dubious that lyrics refer to the “flames” generated by endless sparklers sported by skimpy women transporting over sized bottles of Veuve Clicquot, it makes a good story right? Our first New Years in NYC, and our last New Years at LAVO, I think it’s safe to say we rang in 2013 in style (especially Amir, I mean look at that black watch)
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To those dedicated followers, those individuals who religiously wait six days each week for Friday’s festivus of fabulous frenchie fun, it would be understandable to assume that young Oliver is incapable of taking an “un-cute” photo. I mean, have you seen the other Frenchie Friday posts? The dude is a bonafide stud. That being said, for every pink chair photoshoot and puppy park portrait, there is an equally heinous frenchie frown. Don’t get me wrong, what we have on our hands is a uniquely photogenic pup, but like the rest of us, he does have his moments.
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If you haven’t already heard, I’m kind of a big deal. And being the bid deal that I am, I was cordially invited by Glamour magazine to come model for their upcoming February issue. OK, so maybe they were running a feature on Glamour employees and their boyfriends, and maybe they were more enamored with Oliver than I, but either way I ended up within the pages of a nationally circulated magazine. As it turned out, they only needed Oliver and I for about 10 minutes, while the rest of the time we kicked back and watched Lauren work it better than Hansel on a razor. If you have the chance, take a peek inside this month’s issue, just do yourself a favor and jump to page 62.
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I think the title says it all this week, Fly Frenchie Fly!
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Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…well, you know how that old crap goes. Contrary to what the jingle might suggest, on this Christ’s un-birthday we creatures WERE stirring, As merry models stepped out from the strobes to stand behind the camera, with digital and analog blending worse than week-old eggnog, a glorious catalog of Christmas cavorting came to life. Yet now that Christmas time has come and gone, a question still lingers, where you naughty or were you nice? The jury is out on this crew, but one thing is for certain, we certainly gave the Thanksgiving Post a run for its money. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS!
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[gwu] Graham Whitaker Unterberger 