Chapter 10: Australia

BY THE TIME LUNCHEON was served, Lady Jane and I had become comfortable about telling our experiences and sharing the stories behind various photos.

The service on this flight was a new experience as well. There had been a stewardess who greeted me and showed me to my seat. She also brought a cart of beverages and I watched her mix Jane’s Campari Spritz. It looked good, so I ordered the same thing. I guess Prosecco is like Italian champagne. The sweet bubbly with the bitter red liqueur was refreshing.

The luncheon, however, was not served by the stewardess. A white-jacketed steward set our table for us as a red-jacketed steward prepared the meal. He ladled soup into bowls which he then handed the white-coat to be served. Then he prepared the plates of beef and lobster tail to be served. I’d never had lobster and it was a good experience. I followed Lady Jane’s example on scooping out the white flesh and dipping it in melted butter.

After the stewardess cleared our dishes, the two stewards prepared and served salads. I usually thought of salad as something that came at the beginning of a meal, but it went well after the meal. The stewardess brought us coffee and I figured out she was more like a busboy than the stewardesses I’d been used to. The steward brought us a tray of what Jane called biscuits, but were really an assortment of fancy cookies for dessert.

Throughout the meal, we talked about each other’s portfolio. It was easy to see why she was selected from the applicants for this class. Her photos were exquisite. I liked her style. Most of her portraits were taken outdoors and not in a studio. Often the scenery was blurred with a shallow depth of field that really brought her subject’s features into crisp detail. In other images, the figure almost blended with the scenery. It made a statement about the character.

“It won’t be likely that I pose for you,” Jane laughed. “All your models seem to be naked. Even if I don’t inherit the title, I’ll still inherit the physical estate of my father. I don’t want him to disown me.”

“Nudity is not a requirement,” I said. “Though I admit that many of my models if not most of them end up wanting something glamorous and daring. You wouldn’t believe the photos I took on my last flight.”

“On an airplane?”

“It was very different than this. Three rows of four seats with an aisle down the middle. Only two other passengers in first class. And it was from midnight to five in the morning. The stewardess wanted a set of poses and ended up naked in the first row of seats.”

“You can’t have shot Kodachrome for that,” she said.

“No. I loaded my Hasselblad with 400 ASA black and white. I still had to be careful to steady myself against something when I took the pictures. Usually, I’d use a tripod and release cable in that low light.”

I didn’t tell her we ended up fucking there, nor that the other couple saw us and then stripped naked in the third row. I’d seen them behind me in customs and they were still draped all over each other.

“I think we can learn a lot from each other. I’d rather like to watch you get a model naked. I might be able to use that technique,” she laughed.

“Nearly all my work is studio work. I’d love to learn more of what you do to set up shots outside. I guess that is less conducive to getting models naked.”

“It is when I’m taking cityscapes,” Jane said. “But when I’m out in the country, I’ve found blokes who were altogether happy to lose their kit. It’s monstrously difficult to get them posed so their knobs aren’t exposed.”

“That’s always been much easier when photographing women. I’ve had a couple of guys who were just too proud of what they had to keep it covered, but mostly when they see the proofs, they go to the more modest shots.”

“What about the women?”

“I think we are in an age—in America, at least—where women are feeling empowered by showing their bodies. They know very well that their mothers would frown on it, but many had grandmothers who were part of a different era growing up in which drinking and immodesty seemed to be the antidote for poverty and uncertainty. So, now that I’ve done my very unprofessional analysis, I think the women come into the studio thinking of something just a little risqué, like a bare back or such, and as they pose, they work themselves into being quite a bit less modest. Most at least want a picture that shows their breasts. Some want more than that.”

“And you don’t manipulate them into that mindset?” she asked.

“Mmm. I’ve often questioned myself about that. My girlfriends have told me that I don’t manipulate, I facilitate. Whatever.”

“Girlfriends, plural? Please tell me about this prurient lifestyle!”

I don’t think it came off as scandalous as Jane imagined. When she found out about the girls all living with me and our little toddler, she was mollified. She was far more interested in my relationship with Adrienne and that led to the movie.

For her part, I found Jane was an only child and technically lived on the family estate of Plympford. In reality, she stayed in London since starting at the Polytechnic of Central London. The photography program there was started in 1883. Heck of a heritage, but I guess her family home was built sometime in the 1630s.

Our conversation lasted all the way to Sydney and after we cleared customs again, we caught our flight to Melbourne with no hassle.

I saw Jane’s driver holding a sign for her as we emerged from customs. She said goodbye and we’d see each other the next day for our first group meeting. I’d been told a host would greet me at the airport, but I didn’t see any signs with my name on them. Then my eyes lit on a grinning woman waving at me.

Dale had come to pick me up at the airport.

I dragged my bags to meet her and she wrapped her arms around me to give me a huge kiss.

“I am so glad you have come to visit me!” she said. “I jumped through all kinds of hoops at the school to get them to let me host you. Josh is so excited to have you in his little class. I’ve seen the submitted portfolios of all the attendees and I think yours is the most creative. There might be some that are more technically perfect, but yours is the most creative.”

“Dale, I’m thrilled to see you. By hosting me, do you mean I’m staying with you?” I asked.

“Yes, exactly. Uh ... I know it’s been a while and things change. You don’t have to sleep with me. I had to show the school I actually had a separate room where you could stay. They wanted to give me some upper crust sheila from England. That’s just not my style. I’m rambling. Come on and let’s go to my car. It’s parked just outside.”

Dale hoisted my portfolio and tripod bag while I carried the cameras and my suitcase. I’d thought I was carrying an awfully big suitcase until I saw the trunk Lady Jane was carting. It would never have fit in Dale’s car. Nearly every car I saw since I got here looked like it was half the size of American cars.

It was nice to see Dale again and I was pretty sure I’d have no trouble sleeping with her if she wanted. It threw me, however, when she got into the right side of the car and I thought she wanted me to drive. I got in on the left and discovered the steering wheel was on her side. Then she drove down the wrong side of the road and I quickly decided I would not be driving in Australia. I was pretty sure I wouldn’t last a mile.

Dale was twenty-eight years old, I knew from having a model release from last year. She was five feet tall and a kind of dirty blonde with hair that hung to the middle of her back. And she’d professed to be a nudist when at home. She showed me to my room, and then wasted no time undressing to show me her home and studio, etc. I could only match her mode of dress and follow her around. I was pretty tired—I guess they call it jet lag—and might not have responded as obviously to her nudity as I might have otherwise. She took that as a good sign that we could be relaxed and nude without expecting to hop into bed at once.

I loved her studio. What’s more, I wished Kat could see it. There were canvases stacked all over. At least half a dozen easels had works in progress on them. She had a space in the middle where she could pose models on a platform about ten feet in diameter.

I guess one of the differences between painting and photography—one of the many differences—was that you could fill in any background you wanted in a painting. That was a lot more difficult to do with film. Not quite impossible, but really hard to do. We’d tried it in our Experimental Photography class the previous semester. It was easier to transport the studio lights, camera, and model to the location where the background was. Anyway, I had only seen a couple of photographs of her art when she taught at Columbia. Seeing it in person was a real treat.

“I want you to sit for me while you’re here. I have a portrait you took of me. Now I want to paint one of you.”

“I had a far more attractive model than you have,” I laughed.

“You had an attractive assistant, too. Don’t think I can match that. Let’s get some food ready.”

“I’m up for that. I’m afraid I won’t last long tonight before I fade off to sleep. It’s three in the morning in Chicago. I haven’t really adjusted yet.”

“Then let’s get you fed and to bed.”

Dale did get me fed, though I don’t remember a thing about the meal. I do remember her leading me to bed and crawling in with me.

We gathered for our class at nine in the morning. I felt reasonably rested, even though I’d woken up at midnight, thinking it was time to get up. Dale had a solution for that and I fell back to sleep in a post-coital stupor.

I greeted Lady Jane when I walked in. Her equipment case was huge and on rollers, something I thought was pretty cool since I was lugging the camera case and the bag with tripods.

“Welcome to a portrait intensive,” we were greeted. I recognized the voice. “I’m Josh Logan. We are all fellow professionals in this class. You can call me Josh and I’ll use your given names as well. Except for you, Lady Jane. Must keep the Earl’s respect,” he laughed.

We each introduced ourselves and where we were from. One guy, Ari Pearce, was from the west coast city of Perth, Australia and attended RMIT during the normal school year. He had pretty much lived in Melbourne since he started school and was about to start his last year of a degree program. Of course, we were there in mid-summer and most students were out for the year. The other guy, Dominic Berti, was from an Art Academy in Florence, Italy. I thought he might be a little older than the rest of us.

Our first morning together was spent presenting our portfolios. I’d had to do a fair amount of work photographing my best pieces to make 35mm slides of them for the presentation. It looked like everyone had to do the same thing as there were only scattered 35mm originals.

I was surprised that Josh didn’t show any of his work, but he said this intersession for most of us was to work on enhancing our own style and not on mimicking his. That was pretty cool, but I hoped we’d get to see some of his work eventually. He went over the syllabus for the session and explained the kind of projects we would do. He suggested we work in black and white as we would have darkroom facilities available for processing and printing. We would be focusing on portraiture and not on landscape or architecture.

It was going to be a good session.

Then there was the ‘Welcome to Australia Barbie.’ The students and their hosts were entertained by the school administration, Josh, and two people he introduced as assistants, who would provide transportation when we were on location and help assist us all in the darkroom and the studio. We were told to tell them any time we needed something.

The barbie was steak on a grill, served with an abundance of beer. Ari and Dominic seemed intent on showing who could drink the most. It looked like their hosts were right with them.

I introduced Dale to Lady Jane.

“Lady Jane, may I introduce you to my host, the artist Dale McKenzie? Dale, Lady Jane is the upper crust sheila from England they tried to stick you with,” I said.

“Nate! Please forgive my American guest for his crudeness, Lady Jane,” Dale said. She didn’t quite curtsey, but she nodded her head to Jane, not offering her hand.

“Oh, I quite got used to him on the aeroplane,” she laughed. “I find that Americans are almost as crude as Aussies.”

“I think I like you,” Dale laughed. “Too bad I couldn’t have had both you and Nate in my clutches.”

“Honestly, my hosts are trying too hard to be proper. I’d rather cut loose just a little,” Jane said.

“You’d certainly be able to do that with us,” Dale laughed. “We’re nudists.”

“You ... You mean ... I mean ... You, too?” she asked pointing at me. I just nodded.

“Don’t worry,” Dale said. “I only have guests strip when they are posing for me. So, you are certainly welcome to visit any time. Let Nate know and I’ll spirit you away after your day of studies.”

“I may take you up on that, but it’s still early.”

“Yes, too bad you didn’t arrive a couple of days earlier. The place was a madhouse. It was our first One Day International cricket match. The telly said 45,000 people attended.”

“I do love cricket,” Jane said.

“Well, we beat the Poms by five in a 40-overs contest that went for seven and a half hours. Quite exciting,” Dale said.

We all finally wrapped up our day and headed to our homes to get started again in the morning.

Josh got us started right away Friday morning. I hate to mention that a couple of guys were pretty hungover from the coldies at yesterday’s barbie. Josh was not sympathetic. He had a model in for the day and we each got two hours with her to pose, photograph, and discuss the process as the others watched. He called on Ari to go first since he was familiar with the studio and the lab.

Our instructions were to pose the model and take pictures of her. In doing so, we needed to choose a backdrop and light the model, then use our personal equipment to take the photo. Since these would all be black and white, I’d already decided I wouldn’t be using the Nikon much in the studio. I got much better quality from the Hasselblad and superior images from the Linhof. Of course, that last one would only be used when I felt I had the perfect shot.

Ari didn’t use a medium format camera at all. He shot with his 35mm and with a large format camera I was unfamiliar with. A Tachihara from Japan. Maybe that one hadn’t made it to the Camera Warehouse yet. I used my Nikon to get a picture of him setting up and of the camera itself. I almost made a wisecrack about having a camera made out of wood, but the more I looked at it, the more I liked its design, weight, and versatility. Ari admitted that his normal use for the large format camera was landscape and wildlife photos, but thought it did a good job in the studio, too.

The model was a young woman who wore a cute sundress, appropriate for the eighty-degree weather we expected today. I could imagine her headed to the beach, wearing a bikini under the dress. I thought Ari’s poses were a little unimaginative and I was really surprised at the rate he burned through 4x5 negatives. He must be made of money. We had to furnish our own supplies as well as the equipment.

Josh mentioned that in his critique. He suggested that doing photography with the 35mm would save money while he waited for the perfect shot to capture on the large format.

Ari admitted that he did that when he was shooting landscapes and animals. He captured a lot of scenes with the 35 because it was faster and if weather or light was changing, he could get the shot even if he missed the opportunity on the Tachihara. But in the studio, he knew the light was perfect and didn’t think he needed to use the 35 as much because every shot would be right.

Dominic was the second photographer up and our model, whose name I’d learned was Krista, came out from behind the dressing screen in a different outfit. This was a two-piece with shorts and a nice summery blouse. She wore sandals and a sun bonnet. Dominic learned some from the critique of Ari, so he shot a lot more pictures on his 35 and fewer on the large format. The result, though, was that he shot almost nothing on his medium format camera.

After lunch, Lady Jane got to set up her equipment. I was amazed at her large format camera. It was a Sinar F2 8x10 with a 300mm focal length. That sounds like you’d be shooting something a mile away with the Nikon, but it equated to about a 50mm lens on the smaller camera. I was really looking forward to seeing her photos of Krista. She had some cute poses with her leaning over the stool rather than sitting on it. Pretty cool.

I don’t know how I managed to luck out with the last session. Everyone was tired. We’d had three two-hour studio sessions and an hour lunch break. It was already four o’clock. I grabbed a few items from the cafeteria during lunch and was looking forward to working with Krista, who I found to be a pretty malleable model who followed instructions well and had a gentle personality. Not to mention the fact that she was extremely easy on the eyes.

“Hey there. I’m Nate,” I said when she emerged from the dressing area in a very American looking pair of cut-offs and a tube top. She was barefoot and had a headband pulling her hair back from her face. She’d done a really good job of changing her look for each photographer.

“Nice to meet you, Nate. What would you like me to do?”

“Mmm. Have a seat here and relax,” I said. “You’ve been working hard all day. Are you getting tired?”

“A little. Mostly, bored. It hasn’t been a very exciting day.”

“Want to spice it up a bit?” I asked.

She grinned at me.

“Think we might get to offend Lady Upherbutt?” she whispered.

“I think she has a full set of all the bits I’d like to photograph. Why don’t we start by unbuttoning and opening your shorts?”

I reached directly to her waistband and opened the button and zipper, folding the sides out to expose almost to her slit.

“You should know I’m not wearing anything under those,” she giggled.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” I answered.

I positioned her and started taking pictures, returning to change her position. I touched her pretty freely to see how she would respond to physical directions. She seemed fine with it all. We both just shut everyone else in the room out as I moved lights and got her to relax.

“I think we’re ready to lose the top,” I whispered as I put an arm around her. “I considered just pushing it down, but I think taking it off completely would be better.”

“Go for it, mate.”

I turned her to face away from the class and reached under her arms to pull the tube top off over her head. While her arms were still upstretched, I took the opportunity to massage her breasts a moment.

“Keep that up, I might ask you to marry me.”

“Ah, that would be so heartbreaking,” I answered. “I have three girlfriends already and can’t choose one to marry.”

“I hope they don’t mind you playing around down under.”

“I think they’re hoping I will,” I laughed.

I started with photos of her back. It was lovely and strong. She reached back with her left hand and then leaned back a bit to look over her shoulder at me. I quickly grabbed the prop I’d brought from the cafeteria. The cafeteria had some parfait type pudding in a tulip glass with a little umbrella in it. It looked like the Mai Tais they served on the plane. I handed the glass to Krista and then had her slowly turn toward me by degrees with the glass held between her breasts and her head tilted slightly back.