Model Family: All these people are models. Only two of them are actually related to each other.
The question I get asked most often as a studio photographer is “could I make it as a model?”
The person asking the question has generally given very little information about herself (yes it could be himself, but in reality it’s mostly girls). She’s just presented one or two photos, usually everyday snaps photographed with little or no skill on the part of the photographer… or webcam photos showing just head and shoulders. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s not about everyday looks.
One of my favourite models, one who’s provided the human form for some of my best art shots, is of course gorgeous. Utterly beautiful. So pretty. So everyone says, from seeing her in my photos. And they’re right of course, but would they think so if they met her in the flesh, in every day life? I think her looks are interesting and outstanding, whilst underneath is a complex character lurking with an unusual set of personality traits, and for me that makes her worth photographing. But whether it makes for someone about whom the average British man in the street (or in the pub) would say “phwoaarrrrr”… well, perhaps not. Does it matter what they think anyway? Perhaps not again. It all depends who’s looking at the images.
But all this begs a question. Faced with a bare, plain background and a human subject, what exactly are we photographing? Is it what’s on the outside? Though we think what we’re looking at is alive, in fact everything on the outside, everything that we can see – skin, nails, hair and so on – is dead. And yet it’s definitely not a dead thing there in front of the camera. Apologies to anyone who thinks that anything written about death and dead people is morbid – just humour me for a moment. I’ve seen a dead person – my late mum, in fact – and it certainly wasn’t her. Everything she was, everything that made her herself, had gone. There was nothing left of her humanity, her personality, her mind… her soul, if you will. Tut tut, and me an atheist too.
An alive person is so much different, so… animated. But it’s more than just muscle tone and movement. It’s something inside that manifests itself through to the outside. So perhaps that part of a human subject that we’re actually photographing is the soul. Let’s just call it that anyway… it has a lovely, resounding mystique about it all. Faced with a model, I photograph her soul. Does it then matter what she looks like? Strangely, the answer may in fact be “no”.
Certainly I’ve met strikingly good looking people who photograph terribly badly, and vice versa. Are they “unphotogenic”? I really don’t subscribe to that notion at all, the idea that you’re either photogenic or unphotogenic. I think, as a concept, it’s twaddle. It’s much more to do with how you feel at the time you’re being photographed. Given that most women seem to be constantly dissatisfied with how they look, perhaps that explains quite a lot about the moment when those women are photographed that I really don’t have to go into.
On occasion I’ve started a shoot with my subject telling me she’ll probably look awful, almost certain that a good photograph of her can never be even a remote possibility. Then after a few shots I’ll show her a good one, and she’ll quite like it; she’ll start to believe. Repeating this cycle, the good ones get more frequent. Eventually she’s entirely comfortable and looking great. Am I therefore photographing what’s on the outside, or merely an external reflection of what’s going on on the inside? Certainly I’ve had my “eureka” moments… like when one lady with a tough external mask stared at her photographs in tears of disbelief asking me how I’d stripped away all the years of life’s hurt and damage and seen into her soul. Er… wow.
Anyhow, I digress, as no doubt anyone who’s read my ramblings with any regularity will realise that I do without very much prompting at all. Back to models and the question of “could I make it as a model”?
Ok, so there are of course various sorts of modelling. One size most certainly doesn’t fit all, and there are niches out there for women of all ages, sizes and body shapes… not to mention moral limits. Whether or not you’ll succeed in any of them depends largely upon criteria that have nothing to do with the way you look. Like everything in this world, the answer lies in your presentation. For a model, presentation isn’t just how you look in person and in your portfolio. It’s your entire demeanour. It’s an attitude. It’s how you come across in your written and spoken communications. It’s turning up on time and in a state of appropriate preparedness. It’s feeling that you’re in control of your own destiny.
Of course there’s a grand misconception, especially amongst young girls with model dreams, that modelling is a never-ending round of parties and photoshoots, a glamourous world of luxury and excess and adulation. Of course they have no idea of how they’re going to get there, but they think it’s a case of being noticed somehow by an agency or a scout or a photographer and then whisked away to a better life. The reality is very different. Good, successful models have to work damned hard, and the ones on their way there have to work even harder. Apart from anything else, modelling is an acting job, but unlike conventional acting which affords you time to act in a sequence of dialogue placed into its proper geographical, temporal and social context, in photography you only have 1/125th of a second or so to convey all the emotion, feeling and context of a scene. At its best we never tell a complete story but rather hint at ideas that the viewer’s mind writes into its own very personal story. Rather like stage acting, it has to be somewhat overdone, hammed up, and overdoing a pose and holding it for a long moment tends to cause aches and pains the following day for all but the fittest models.
That assumes you’ve even been offered the shoot in the first place. It’s a crowded market. How do you get noticed amongst the 100s of other girls who sent their details in? Blimey, is it even worth bothering? Thousands of others didn’t. They don’t stand a chance. The 100s each stand some chance. In other words, what you do behind the scenes matters too, even more in fact. As a model, just as with any performer, you are your own self-employed business-person, marketing yourself as a product. If you get it right, you’ll find work. If you don’t, it’s back to the day-job.
To start off with, you’ll need a portfolio. There’s no use in writing to people who might be able to offer you something if they can’t see you in action. But there’s no use having a portfolio consisting of dozens of mediocre photos either. Choose five outstanding images. Don’t get emotionally attached to certain images that may be substandard. Learn to be your own harshest critic. When you present it to someone, do so with pride, not an apology. Your approach should also indicate that you know something about who you’re writing to. If it’s a magazine, say something specific about the magazine; if it’s a photographer, mention a specific shot you like and throw a compliment. And expect no reply or at best a “no”. You won’t be chosen more often than those times when you are selected. But grow a thick skin, and move on. And remember, every five minutes spent wishing and what-iffing is a wasted five minutes. Don’t just sit there, do something!
Of course it’s also important that you look after your product. Drinking, smoking and not exercising is just plain stupid, when it’s affecting the only marketable commodity you have. If you’re going to have thighs and a bum, at least make sure they’re toned. It’s not hard. Eat a healthy diet. Try walking a bit. Or cycling. Or swimming. And lay off the fags, drugs, etc etc.
Try to tell the vast majority of girls all this and you’ll fail to get through at all. They’ll continue to mess people around, fail to turn up to shoots, and use the death of their fifth or sixth grandfather as an excuse. Clear away the time-wasters and there are very few who’ll ever make it. Are they the best lookers? Who’s to say? But they’re definitely the ones who deserve it. And ask any of them if it’s the glamourous idyll the wannabes think it is, and don’t be surprised at the answer.
