She is beautiful, isn't she. A lovely vision of deep blue and rich gold. This image was taken in the early morning, in front of the Doge's Palace, just as the sun was rising, and the area was bathed in its usual glorious, warm, golden light. It all looks clear, peaceful and lovely.
Over the years, we have discovered that there is a morning ritual for performers and photographers at Carnivale. In the dark and cold early morning, before the sun rises, it all begins. Slowly increasing contingents of hardy performers and photographers begin to take their places in front of the Doge's Palace. And the term "hardy" is not used lightly: It is cold, usually bitterly so, and often damp and misty, as well. Of course it is romantic. But fingertips become quickly numb. It is hard to manage one's equipment. I still cannot imagine how the performers keep warm.
Usually the performers begin by facing the palace, standing along the waterfront. Behind them, the view is unique and impressive. In the foreground, a layer of bobbing gondolas, tied up for their evening respite. In the middle ground, the lagoon, and finally, in the back ground, the Isola di San Giorgio Maggiori. This is a lovely view, particularly as the sky begins to turn the most beautiful crimson and blue colors as the sun emerges.
With the sunrise, the scene changes direction and moves to the Palace portico that faces the lagoon. Performers sit, stand and move around in the portico, with their backs to the palace, facing the lagoon. This is my favorite time, because the area becomes bathed in a warm, golden light. It is here that the beautiful combination of the artistic masks and costumes, the architecture, the light, the colors and the performances of the Maskers can be fully revealed.
The two images above were captured in this lovely warm light, in the Portico. In our work, we are particularly interested in creating a close portrait of each Masker. Certainly, we capture full-length images of the performers, as well. But in the close view, we hope to convey something about the character of the Masker and the Mask, and the performer's engagement with us. At best, our images convey the impression that we were engaged in intense but individual photo shoots with each performer.
Ah, what a lovely fantasy. Because this is the reality:
Early morning Carnivale in Venice is, simply, beautiful chaos. A sea of photographers, all jockeying for the "perfect shot." (And, in reality, this image shows just a small gaggle). It is a complicated dance of photographic manners: Try not to trip over anyone, try not to jostle someone when they are shooting, try not to trip over a tripod, try not to stand in the way, try not to leave a shadow across someone's image, try not to take too long to set up and shoot because there is a line behind you for the image, if you move in for a close-up shot be careful as you move out. And, in all of this, the goal is to try to do your own work, to the best of your ability, to capture your view of the experience.
It it possible to take a unique view of a Carnivale performer, with all these other photographers, morning after morning, all trying to photograph the same Masker? Is it possible to take a unique view of any much-photographed person or object? We hope so. Because each image we capture reflects our interests, our passion and our eye.
Our goal is to honor the creativity, beauty and joy of the mask makers, the costume makers, the performers and the city, itself, in our photographic efforts. To that end, we will happily pull on our long underwear, warm up our fingers and engage in the beautiful chaos of photographing Carnivale.
