The Arduous Life of a Model

I’ve taken to calling “What it Is” the art project, because it had no commercial purpose when we were creating it. We had always meant to do a record with just the two of us, we had a few songs written, and we just took the plunge, learning as we went. We didn’t plan for anything.

As a part of that, we didn’t really feel like it was important to do a big photo shoot for the record. I had the idea for the alarm clock cover, and then our friend Kayla had the idea for shooting the polaroids of Erica and me and the band on the back. She also shot the pictures for the inside cover, literally against the side wall of Eldorado. Kayla is a really great artist, especially for a home schooling mother of three, but it wasn’t like we actually prepped for anything or had any expectations. It was more like… “Kayla’s here, come outside after this overdub and we’ll shoot some photos.”

So, two years later, and we’re at the cusp of finishing this record up, and it’s a very different proposition. We’ve basically staked the entirety of our last year on this record. I quite my job. We moved, and rented out our lovely condo to reduce our monthly expense. We’ve regrouped our entire lives around the idea that The Dailies could be a commercially viable way to support both our family and our addiction to making music. Part of this game is “The look.” People want to know what you look like, not just what you sound like.

We needed photos, and they needed to be good. I mentioned in a previous post that our friend Anacleto “Mike” Rapping was going to shoot for us. We met him and his lovely wife, Terrie, at church. Both of his kids participated in the choir that I directed before they moved on. Terrie has a wonderful garden at home and will often drop a bag of fresh tomatoes and goodies into our laps. They’re “Good people.”

We met with Mike several weeks ago to talk about ideas, look, etc. We decided that we’d shoot outdoors, to avoid studio costs, and that we needed a mixture of “meat and potatoes,” face shots as well as some more creative, artsy shots. Cliche as it is, we talked about shooting at the beach, as there are two key songs on the record that deal with water as a primary image and motif. We also talked about shooting in the hills around our valley, which if you watch the local news, are often charred by wildfires this time of year. We were struck by the idea of shooting against such a backdrop, as we had basically set fire to everything that we knew and relied upon in our own lives in pursuit of this dream.

So, for several weeks, we’d been observing and shopping. Neither of us are big fashionistas. Erica has a great sense of style, but we’ve never been people of extravagant means to support her excellent taste. I, having spent most of my adult life as shall we say a… ahem… plus sized model, had not given much thought to my appearance. I’m still getting used to the idea that I can shop most anywhere and expect to look reasonably good.

Erica made a find. At a vintage store, in Redlands of all places, she found a dress. It cost $15. Our friend Kayla, previously mentioned, spent a great deal of time in fashion school, and Erica had an idea to let her go to town on it, and see what she could do.

The finished product ended up slightly different, but you get the idea. As for me… well… who really cares, right? I wore clothes.

For weeks, we’ve thinking, and preparing. I spent the past two weeks working out harder than I ever have. It’s silly, but I’ve never done anything like this, and I’ve never felt particularly photogenic, so the idea of paying a professional to take pictures with me in them isn’t something that comes naturally. I wanted to feel confident, hoping to look confident.

We practiced hair together. Yes, I submitted myself to the tyranny of the flat iron and blow dryer. No stylists here, just a couple of artists fumbling their way through, trying to look cool. Or, at least not like fools.

Last Saturday was the day of destiny. We arose at 4am. On purpose. We did the hair, gathered our clothing options, guzzled coffee, and made our way to catch the sunrise at the beach. Leo Carillo beach is about halfway between Malibu proper and Pt. Mugu NAS. If you clicked on that link, you can see that the landscape there is striking, with 3 or 4 coves with jagged rocks cutting their way up the cliff.

We were there as the sun was just starting to make it’s appearance. Mike was disappointed, as he had hoped for some early morning marine layer to go for a grayed out look, but it was clear as a bell. I haven’t been at the beach for a sunrise in years, and this one was a doozy. The waves slammed themselves into the rocks and their sprays sent thousands of droplets into the air, all to be caught and illuminated by the sun like a fireworks display.

We shot against the rocks, against the ocean, unsuccessfully dodging waves as the tide rolled in. This was more meat and potatoes stuff. Lots of face shots, simple clothes. I wore a simple black sweater and jeans, Erica wore jeans and a cool white hoodie with a faux wool liner. It was her, “Ice princess,” look, as she said. Once 10:30 rolled around, the morning light grew harsher and less interesting, and we packed up the gear and our clothes and walked back to the PCH.

We broke for lunch, and to spend some time with the kids, and a bit of a nap, and reconvened at 3:30 in the afternoon. Mike had scouted another location, this time near a park in Calabasas. As he told the story, he saw this cool looking massive oak tree at the top of a trail, decided to check it out, and much to his pleasant surprise, someone had hung a rope swing right in the center. In the afternoon, the sun came cascading through the branches, creating a canopy of amber and green light that filtered the sunlight.

Just above the tree was a burned out area from a recent fire. The golden, late summer ground cover of the California Chaparral gave way to charred black in a line that cut the hill in half. Hikers had reopened the trails, cutting brown lines through the middle of the hillside, where their shoes had uncovered the dirt underneath. It was a striking scene, at least what I could see of it through the beads of sweat dripping from my forehead, stinging my eyes. (Note… these are pics that I took, not the ones we mean to put on the cover of a record.)

We unpacked our gear and took the clothes out of plastic, and sat down to cool off. Erica went up with Terrie (using a photographic light reflector as a changing room) to change into the dress. I, being a boy with boxers, just changed.

We shot several pictures using the swing as a prop. Now, keep in mind this is all at about a 25 degree slope and more, so the swing, at the top of its arc, put it’s passenger about 10-12 feel off the ground. At one point, as Erica had gained some pretty serious momentum and was flying through the air, she said, “I feel like I’m in some bizarre, surreal perfume ad.”

We then continued our hike up the hill and shot against the burn area.

It was here that I think we captured what might become the cover. Mike was shooting us at close range, uphill, with a pathway leading up through the scarred hillside to another oaktree, aflame in amber in the setting sun. It’s hard to judge, looking at at 3 inch screen on the back of a camera, but the images I saw set my little heart aflutter.

We did some artistic shots, with some movement, one of us in the foreground, one in the back, etc. After about four hours, as the sun finally descended behind the hills and our light went away, we packed it up and went back to the cars.

I am dizzy with excitement to see the photos. Mike is sifting through the 16 gigabytes of photos he shot to sort them down to, “The best 100 or so.” This was the one part of the process that we didn’t experience last time around, and I have anxiety about the unknown. To have this done, and a reasonable expectation of success, is a major hurdle crossed. We were utterly exhausted by the end of the day. Who knew models had it so rough?

When I have links to some of the real shots, we’ll share them with you. Thanks for taking this journey with us.