From Whiplash to an Old Memory
Whiplash, a film made in 2014 by director Damien Chazelle, randomly appeared on my Amazon Prime feed this week. I thought I’d give it a shot having read that it won 3 Academy Awards including a Best Supporting Role for JK Simmons.
I remembered the image below after watching the film.
I’ve been wanting to use it for a collage in the past but only went as far as changing it to a blue tone. Back then, no ideas or points of reference came to me so I moved on. I resurrected it again for this week’s Paris Collage Creative Challenge.
Mr. Fletcher’s harsh character played by JK Simmons, also resurfaced an old memory.
The first photographer I worked for had a volatile temper. I was 19 years old making my initial foray into photography. He was about to turn 40, had a turbulent personal life, and was increasingly dissatisfied with his career. He wasn’t keen on advertising work anymore and wanted to pivot.
I recalled an ad agency's persistent request for him to bid on a print ad for a distilled spirits company. The client specifically wanted him but he had zero interest in the project. He took a deep breath, rubbed his head, and rolled his eyes in disgust. To worm his way out, he instructed his studio manager to come up with an exorbitant budget, confident that the client would retreat. His plan backfired. “Shit,” was all he muttered when they called several days later and awarded him the job. He got it done but he was in a sour mood throughout the photo session.
When his car pulled up to the driveway, you never knew which side of him would show up. Oftentimes, he was grumpy. He’d marched up the stairwells to his studio and played Tetris on his Macintosh computer (not sure if it was the Plus or the SE). On a few occasions, he was pleasant enough that he’d greet us and discuss his schedule or some business matter with his studio manager.
At one on-location shoot, this time it was a print ad for a well-known jeans brand, he decided on the spot that he wanted to photograph at a low angle. He combed through the equipment bags looking for something. He then turned to me and yelled within earshot from everyone on the set for not packing the short center column for his Gitzo tripod. I had no idea what he was talking about. I didn’t know he had one and had never seen him use it before. Luckily, the location was relatively near his studio so I headed back with the driver and retrieved it from his safe.
Another time, he stormed into the darkroom and demanded to know why it took me so long to print. I couldn’t even recall the image I was working on. He stood back and observed closely. I made the mistake of wiping my hands with a towel right after I had dipped them in the fixer. He snapped. He yanked the towel from the bar and held it like a ball in front of me. “You got fixer all over this place!” He accused me of contaminating everything in his darkroom. He continued to rant. At that point, I was exhausted from holding my feelings in and cried. He tried to smooth out the situation and said, “You need to be thick-skinned in order to succeed in this business.” Then he walked off.
An intern started soon after I did. Gone was his disdainful attitude. He was pleasant and patient as he explained things to her. They examined art books and photography magazines he fetched from his bookshelf. He was either locked in deep conversation or they laughed together as I left the studio. To check my own bias, I asked his studio manager and the rest of his staff if they noticed the difference. They agreed that he favored the intern over me.
If there was a bright side to all this, working at his studio gave me access to the best and latest equipment. I learned to use his Broncolor lights and how to operate his Linhof 4x5 camera. I can’t remember if he shot with a Hasselblad but I do recall he had a Nikon 35mm camera system. Since we didn’t talk much, I mostly learned by observing him. I took mental notes and read some of his magazines when he was not in the studio. One thing I’ll credit him for is teaching me how to coil a power cord. I still practice it to this day.
What about you dear readers? Did you ever see the film Whiplash? Did it resonate with you? If not, what did you think about the drummer collage? What music have you listened to lately?
Share your thoughts in the comments section below. You can also send me a direct message at stellakalaw@substack.com.
Thank you for spending your time with me. and I’ll see you all next Sunday!
,you know we would go at it almost every year, physically, thats why i went straight , it was bringing too much grief to everybody else. i already foresaw some very dark stuff! We have our own teachers like Mr. Fletcher here in pinoy land, me included hahaha at least in the beginning of my teaching career, but i have seen books fly around piano rooms and hit students, although Fletcher was extreme but not far from it. What it is for some is the sound in themselves is not matched by what the student is playing and can, especially the ones with perfect pitch, cause a type of physical pain.
Love this post and Whiplash is one of my favourite films, visually and from a storytelling perspective.
I did have a teacher at uni who had this attitude of trying to squeeze the best out of you in a very toxic and negative way by bullying and making you feel uncomfortable in front of other students, specially if they were of the opposite sex.
Because of him I decided to stop my goal of being a chef and became a sommelier instead.