The Accidental Performance Art Photographer: Part I

The entire theatre space went dark. A final dress rehearsal of Sunday Will Come was about to begin. There were no audience members in the seats, just a small group of creative individuals who helped put the show together. I stood silently near the stage floor, holding the camera tightly in ready position and waited anxiously in complete darkness. In a split second moment, I was jolted with an overwhelming sense of responsibility. Then a thought hit me, “What in the world was I doing here?!?” The stage lights lit up. My mind went blank and my body jumped into action. Most of what happened next is a bit foggy. The only clear memories I have now are the stinging in my eyes from the sweat, and the constant dialing of my camera settings to adjust to the ever shifting stage lights. When the performance stopped and all the lights came back on, a feeling of dread came over me. Oh man, I think I blew the whole shoot. Sean San José, who had performed on stage walked up to me smiling and patted me on the back. He asked if I’d gotten any good pictures. I smiled back and replied, “Yeah, I think so.” In truth, I wasn’t sure at all, but the only thing I could do was to put on my best poker face.

As soon as I got home, I downloaded all the images from my CompactFlash cards and began editing. I wasn’t pleased with what I saw. That night, I went through every single shot and picked out the ones I thought were passable. Once the work was done a couple of days later, I burned the production photos onto a disc and dropped it off at the theatre. There was no news after that. Maybe they didn’t like my photos. Oh well, I guess it was worth the try.

This was my very first production shoot.

In February of 2009, about eight months prior to the Sunday Will Come dress rehearsal, I was making photos on the streets of Tokyo. I spent few weeks in the sprawling city, exploring and getting lost with my camera. I’ve travelled to Japan three times previously, but this was my first street photography excursion there. It was an eye-opening experience that truly cemented my love for street photography. Later that summer, I showed some of the Tokyo photos to my cousin, Erika Chong Shuch. She’s a brilliant choreographer and performance maker, who had an appreciation for the art I made over the years. I was a fan of Erika’s work and went to see her performances when I could. To my delight, Erika really liked my photos. After she finished looking over them, her face lit up as if she had an aha-moment. Erika then asked me, “Would you photograph my new show?” I was happy to be asked, but wasn’t sure whether this was something I’d enjoy doing. One of my attractions to Street photography was the improvisation and having the freedom to make my own artistic choices. And, there were no one I had to please with my work other than myself. The last thing I wanted was someone art directing me, so I expressed this concern. Erika assured me that I’d be given complete freedom to photograph the way I wanted to. I told her I’d give it some thought.

It was September and I’m at the Buena Vista Park in San Francisco, getting prepared for the Sunday Will Come promotional shoot. The show was premiering at the Intersection for the Arts in the city late October. I met Erika, Sean San José and Dennis Kim (aka Denizen Kane) at the park. Sean is a respected theatre maker and performer in the Bay Area, who at the time was also the theatre program director at the Intersection. Dennis is a Bay Area underground rapper and spoken word artist, whom I met for the first time at this shoot. They were the performers of Sunday Will Come. Four of us went off to several different locations inside the park, where I photographed them in various poses, all done impromptu. I was using my Canon 5D mark II, which was the only camera I owned at the time. The shoot took a little over an hour and luckily, it all went without a hitch. Few of the photos taken that day were later used for promo materials and one ended up as a poster for the show. Before leaving the park, Erika asked me if I’d be interested in photo documenting the rehearsals. I was unsure. She added that it’d be like street photography, except I’ll be capturing candid moments inside the rehearsal space. I said I’d do it on two conditions. The photos will be black & white and I have freedom of movement in the rehearsal space. She said, okay.

After Erika and Sean had a short discussion about a particular scene, they began working out their movements while Dennis walked toward the stage floor with his guitar. For few hours, the three of them collaborated together with high spirits, constructing ideas, movement and music inside the magical space. I went to several rehearsals, trying my best to be a fly on the wall, photo documenting their creative process. No one told me where to go and what to shoot. It was just me, my camera and the performers. Having this freedom meant, I could experiment with how I compose the shots from any spot in the rehearsal space. I ended up with a lot of photos, and it took me a few days to go through them all. After the last rehearsal wrapped, Erika offered me another gig. It was for the production shoot of the show. The other photo shoots had gone well, so I didn’t hesitate in accepting this final assignment.

About a week later on October 17th, I was back at the Intersection for the final dress rehearsal. The once relaxed atmosphere inside the theatre space turned a bit serious. Everyone there seemed to be under some pressure knowing the show was about to open the next day. Everything had to be done right. I’ve never sat through or photographed a dress rehearsal before, so I had absolutely no inkling of what to expect as I waited. There were no manuals or lessons on how to shoot a dress rehearsal. I would have to basically figure things out as everything unfolded. I chatted with Light Designer Allen Wilner about the stage lighting. He helpfully pointed out certain parts of the show where the lights were either going to be very low or bright. I anticipated the constant changing of lighting during the performance, so I practiced speed dialing the aperture and shutter speed on my camera, like a cowboy practicing the quick draw before a duel. As I was walking toward the stage, the lens that I thought was securely mounted onto my camera came loose and dropped to the floor. It made a loud thud noise, turning some heads toward my direction. Okay, that was embarrassing. I quickly picked up the lens and inspected it for any damages. A broken lens was the last thing I needed. Fortunately, there was just a small ding and nothing else. What a way to start my first production shoot. I took some deep breaths to calm my nerves. Then, all the theatre lights went off. The dress rehearsal had begun.

After I submitted the production photographs, I didn’t get any feedback. Did they hate the photos? The silence was killing me, so I called Erika after a few days. Trying to play it cool, I asked how things were going and slipped in a question whether anyone had taken a look at the photos. She said the photos turned out great and everyone loved them! My thought was, really??? Was she just being kind? Even though I was a tiny bit skeptical, hearing those words from Erika gave me a huge relief.

I opened up the October 20, 2009 issue of the San Francisco Chronicle and turned to the Arts & Entertainment section. It felt so rewarding to see one of my production photos printed alongside the positive review of Sunday Will Come. Now it was all over. The entire experience from promotional, to rehearsals, to production shoot were the best photography courses that anyone could have taken. I gained a lot of knowledge and it was definitely going to help me with my photography work. Although I had some hesitation in the beginning, I was very glad to have decided to take on these new challenges. A realization came later that my initial reluctance stemmed partly from not wanting to disappoint the people who depended on me to do the right job. In short, I wasn’t sure of myself or my abilities. The lack of experience caused my lack of confidence. What it came down to is ultimately, I had to start from somewhere to begin my artistic journey as a photographer. Once I broke through the self doubts and fears, I was able to get on a path to becoming a seasoned photographer and acquiring some amazing experiences along the way.

Shortly after my work in Sunday Will Come ended, I took another trip to Tokyo, immersing myself back in street photography. I believed Sunday Will Come was a one-time adventure in performance art. When I returned home, my novice photographer days quickly faded and I fell deeper into the fascinating realm of dance and theatre.

To be continued…

The Accidental Performance Art Photographer: Part I

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