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...
