The Smell of Paint in a Studio
Tuesday, August 02, 2016
As a commercial photographer in Vancouver since 1977 until the recent zombie apocalypse
that brain-deaded the industry that at one time paid for work I did more than just
my signature magazine photography. I traveled across the country and the US for annual
reports collecting daily and hefty day rates and whhen I drove (can you
imagine?) I was paid for gasoline consumed.
The folks at Emily Carr when it was known as ECCAD (Emily Carr
College of Art and Design) gainfully employed me even though I had no relevant
master’s degree in Art Appreciation. I worked for a program called Emily Car
College of Art Outreach Program ( It was Nini Baird's baby and I was with it for close to 12 years). I (and other artist
teachers, as we were called were sent to communities in the interior on
weekends to give instructive seminars. I went to places like Atlin and to a
town (twice) that no longer exists called Cassiar.
To fourth year graphics students I taught something called
Photographics in which I had to impart to my students what it was like to work
in the outside world. I remember, fondly that I brought Art Bergmann as a real
rock artist to pose for photographs and my students had to design record covers
for Bergmann. To make it more realistic Bergmann gave his opinion on the work
presented to him. I remember going to accounting with my expenses which
included the purchase of two single malt scotches. I was paid quickly and all I
had to do was mention that it was a fee by the artist for services rendered.
The third job I performed (at least twice) for the college
was to shoot the pictures for a school brochure.
The man in charge at the time (he wore green boat shoes) had attempted to use
photography students to shoot the brochures with disastrous results. Let me
explain.
One of the smells that will lure anybody into ecstasy is the
smell of paints, oil paints, acrylics, linseed oil, wooden floors and paper of
a studio. The activity of many students in that studio is also fascinating. The
problem is that little if anything happens if you wait. You must create those
decisive moments in advance and put them on paper as a shot list.
Unless you do that the head of the college found out the
smells of paint did not transfer to the photographs.
It was at Emily Carr where I first heard the term undraped.
They used undraped models in the life drawing classes. When I showed up to
shoot these I remember that the models became understandably paranoid. I told
then I would only photograph them from the rear.
As I look at these pictures I can remember most fondly the
smell of the paint, the rustling of the paper, the scribbling with charcoal and
I wonder how brochures are being shot at the University in this 21st
century.
