The Art of the Pirouette (and Other Things I Don’t Understand)
The afternoon largely consisted of me issuing a series of painfully inept, wildly metaphorical instructions, which Lucy then had to translate into something graceful. She handled my bumbling directions with the kind of weary, noble tolerance usually reserved for a Spanish waiter trying to explain a menu to a British tourist who refuses to speak anything but very loud, slow English.
Yesterday, a rather peculiar thing happened in Plymouth: the sun came out. In this corner of the world, such a meteorological anomaly usually triggers a mass migration of the local populace toward the nearest beer garden, where they sit in a state of pink shouldered delirium, clutching pints of cider and wondering what that big yellow ball in the sky is.
I, however, had managed to convince the immensely patient Tania and her remarkably talented daughter, Lucy, to forego the siren call of a liquid lunch. Instead, we spent the afternoon tucked away in my studio, a place that remained stubbornly, almost heroically, immune to the outside warmth.
Now, Lucy is a regular star of the LS DRAMA Workshops and a veteran of the theatrical stage. I’ve had the pleasure of capturing her actor’s headshots before (which, I suspect, are currently making her Spotlight profile look far more professional than anything I ever did at that age). But this particular session was a different beast entirely: we were here to capture the fluid, gravity defying world of dance.
I should confess right now that this shoot was a triumph of collaboration, mostly because I am a man of a certain vintage in possession of two left feet and a complete lack of any rhythmic sensibility. My personal vocabulary of ballet is, to put it mildly, non-existent.
The afternoon largely consisted of me issuing a series of painfully inept, wildly metaphorical instructions, which Lucy then had to translate into something graceful. She handled my bumbling directions with the kind of weary, noble tolerance usually reserved for a Spanish waiter trying to explain a menu to a British tourist who refuses to speak anything but very loud, slow English.
Despite my linguistic failings, the results were, if I may say so, rather splendid. Through a combination of clever lighting, some frantic camera adjustments, and Lucy’s sheer athletic prowess, we managed to capture a gallery of images that I am immensely proud of. It turns out that when you pair a talented dancer with a photographer who is mostly just relieved no one tripped over a power cable, magic happens.
I’m already looking forward to the next time a group of talented performers graces my studio. Though, next time, I might try to learn what a plié is beforehand.
Ready to capture your own moment of grace (or just a really good headshot)?
Whether you’re a dancer, a budding thespian, or just someone who needs a photo that doesn't look like a CCTV still, I’d love to help. Head over to my Studio Portraits page to schedule your session, or drop me a line at mjcplymouth@gmail.com to chat about your next project!
Full-length studio shot of a female dancer balanced on one toe in a classic ballet pose. She is looking upward with arms outstretched, while her sheer maroon skirt billows dramatically around her. The lighting is bright and high-key, emphasizing the silhouette and the fluid motion of the fabric.