Communication

As I mentioned in Wednesday’s post, last weekend saw the start of work on my photo story about Q-West Gallery, Queenstown. I had been assured by my super-secret contact that all individuals involved had agreed to participate in my little project. All was in readiness for my arrival.

Said arrival occurred on the day before the opening of the gallery’s latest exhibition – a collection of sculptures by regional artists. I headed to the gallery to get a few shots of the final stages of the preparation for the opening event. I stepped in, greeted those people I had already met, was introduced to others, and prepared to shoot. I surveyed the scene, found my first shot, raised the camera to my eye and *CLICK*.

“Did you just take a photo of me?” came the indignant cry.

“Yes,” I replied, somewhat nonplussed. “It’s for my project. You do know about my project, don’t you?” (Okay, so it’s not verbatim, but its close enough. I’m only misquoting myself, the other line is 100% accurate!)

The reply to my question came in the form of blank stares and puzzled glances. It turned out that no one had seen my proposal nor did they know anything about it. Upon investigation I discovered that my contact had run it briefly past one person who thought it was an okay idea.

It was about this time I popped my cork.

I had sent the proposal through to my contact and asked that he share it with everyone involved specifically so that everyone was aware of what was going to occur and could decide whether or not they wanted to participate. My contact assured me that he would do exactly that. He didn’t do exactly that, or anything like that. So... POP!

But I am a big boy and knew that it would not be appropriate or dignified to throw a tantrum in the middle of the gallery. Instead, I went for a walk and muttered under my breath, gesticulating wildly. Having people think I was a lunatic was okay, so long as I didn’t lose my dignity.

On my walk, once I managed to calm myself, I realised that the whole situation was my fault. So where did I go wrong?

Point 1: I made assumptions. I assumed that my contact understood why I had written the proposal and why I required all relevant parties to read and approve my proposal. I assumed my contact had passed on my proposal and, when he replied that there was agreement, I assumed that he had done as I asked. And, rather foolishly, I assumed that the rapid response (one to two days – I know! I know!) was due to excitement over my idea.

Point 2: I didn’t create a paper trail. I should have included a disclaimer or form or something for those who read the proposal to sign and return, acknowledging that they had read the document and agreed to participate in my project.

Point 3: I should have taken model release forms to Queenstown with me and had them available should the need have arisen.

I got back from my little walk, put my camera away and set about helping with the final set up and clean of the gallery in preparation for the exhibition. After a while the number of people at the gallery lessened and, importantly, the person who had objected to being photographed left. I took out my camera once more and, careful not to photograph anyone, I set about documenting the gallery and the art on display.

Later in the day, when the opportunity arose, I sat down with my super-secret contact and we discussed why the proposal was so important. I outlined for him the ways in which the images would be used, why such usage might require informed consent and the potential legal repercussions for me if such consent was not explicitly given, even if only verbally (I’m going to do some research into Australian laws that apply to photography and write a post about that some time soon.) At the end of the conversation my contact agreed to take a copy of the proposal to the gallery in order to get some explicit consent coming my way.

The next day I went down to the gallery to see if anyone had seen the proposal and what their responses were. Happily, everyone that read the document agreed to participate, even expressing a level of enthusiasm or excitement at the prospect. Just in time for the opening event of the exhibition I had verbal, explicit consent to start my photographic project. I got some great images of the crowd attending, the art on display, and the artists themselves (I’ve shared some of them here). And only 36 hours after I intended to start shooting.

I suppose the problem, ultimately, stems from the fact that I assumed I could bypass best practice, dodge all the paperwork and just shoot. I figured the identity of my super-secret contact (if you don’t know read my post about Queenstown) and his position within the gallery was a neat work-around. Nope! I should have done it right the first time.

So where to from here?

I’ll be heading back to Queenstown around the end of this month; ostensibly I’ll be there to dog sit for my parents, but I’m also going to use the time to get some one-on-one time with each artist. Hopefully I’ll get to interview them, get some nice portraits and some shots of them at work on some project or another.

Before then, I have some work to do. I’m going to get online and find a model release form I can tailor to my needs, as well as an appropriate document to get signed by the gallery officers, thus giving me official permission to shoot. I’ll take these with me on my next visit and start making a paper trail for myself.

I’m going about this all backwards, I know. And I am paying for it. I mean, think about this; because I don’t have anything in writing giving me permission for my project, the gallery is well within its rights to say “We changed our minds, you can’t do it.” and then I’ll be sh*t out of luck. Time, money and effort wasted.

So how am I going to sum this one up? What am I taking away from all this? I guess it comes down to one word:

COMMUNICATION

If I had communicated my intentions clearly to my super-secret contact I wouldn’t have had to go through all the drama that stopped me from shooting. But it’s more than that.

I shouldn’t have left it to my contact to pass on my proposal. It wasn’t his job to communicate my ideas and wishes, it was mine. I should have communicated with each member of the gallery individually and provided them each with their own copies of the proposal to study and consider. Then, before even taking my camera out of my bag, I should have gone to each member with the ‘permission slip’ (for want of a better term) and got signatures on paper. Then I could take photos. But I’d have release forms with me just in case I needed them!

That’s what should have happened from the start, and what is going to happen from now on – with this and every other project from now on.

Has anyone else out there had a similar experience? What did you do? What would you have done in my place? How do you go about preparing for a shoot? Share your thoughts and experiences; I’d love to hear from you...