Man On A Mission

The package arrived in Rio last night. It contained an Ilford camera loaded with black and white film, part of Blipfoto's latest and commendable project.

I am the second to hold Camera 9 on its global travels, and was instantly reminded of how at the youth hostals of Calais or Bruges or wherever, I used to dutifully pass on maps of Europe which I had inherited at the start of my Inter-rail trips to newbees setting out on their own trips around the Old Continent. The thoughts are the same, where has this map or camera been, where will it go, how many hands will hold it with keen eyes pressed to the viewfinder, what kind of scenes will it capture and in how many countries? This Ilford camera may not be the Olympic Torch but it's the next best thing!

I've got 36 hours left in Rio and I'm determined that this will be the place for my contribution. But where to go, who to take, and it's got to be a stranger so the guy who's serving me just now and, crucially, has served me before in the photocopying shop won't do. Don't worry, there's a whole city out there, the whole blooming 'marvellous city', with lots of people I don't know, so take it easy. What's the time? Where's the sun? I'll try the Nossa Senhora park. In truth, this location has been flitting about in my intentions all day but as I head east along the main street of Copacabana the thought comes: No, this won't do at all, it's got to be Arpoador (the nexus of land looking out over both Ipanema and Copacabana). 'Taxi!'

I get dropped off and start the short walk through the Garota de Ipanema Park to my location. I suddenly feel powerful, like a minor god...who will it be, what stranger will I select? There are quite a few to choose from en route, him over there on the bench or her buying a coke, or that kid with the surf board? No, keep to the plan, don't get distracted. It did still feel strange to be eyeing up possible subjects, but there was also something powerful about having a mission, and a mission with permission granted, which made it all seem possible whereas in 'normal life' I tend to chicken out of doing proper portraits of strangers. Note to self: you don't need anyone but yourself to give you this mission or grant you permission, you can do it any day of your life. And it's fun!

'Hello', I address a young black man.
He looks at me, his sunglasses something of a barrier, as if to say 'What's your game?', but nods his head up the way giving me permission to continue.
Thankfully, I had the Blipcard provided to hand. 'I'm a photographer taking part in a global photographic project and...'
'Is this your company?', he studies the card.
'No, but I'm a member of the community...there's thousands of us around the world.' I give a long, hand-gesture heavy explanation of how 'this very camera' in my hand (which is film and not digital) left Scotland for Latin America and has now arrived in Rio and will go onto God knows where, although I mention America and Australia to impress, and the fact that there are many other cameras doing the same all over the place and that one day, Inshallah, they will all end up in Auld Reekie and someone will develop and splice all the pictures together in some sort of film or exhibition, and he could be part of it all!
'I work as a model', he said. Keep going, I thought.
'So, can I take your picture?'
'Yeah...where do you want me?'

Luckily, I have done enough of a recce of the location and sun angle and background and physical structures and accessories to move directly into place and strike the pose I want, although I don't touch the props. 'Here, like this.'

He doesn't hesitate. I'm glad the sun is falling well on his face as planned, but worried about my own slightly lower than envisaged shooting position.
'And what's in it for me?', he asks.
'What?', it was out before I knew it, but maybe I shouldn't have been surprised.
'You get the photo, what do I get?'
'Well...', I mentally review the instruction sheet that came from Blip Central with the camera. It's silent on this point. So, the decision's mine ...it's my stranger and my shoot...I've got a millisecond to make it....and to keep the framing.
'You get R$50'
'Fine, shoot away!'

Believe me, the single, brittle, plastic and nearly inaudible click that a disposable camera makes when restricted to one shot is not a very adequate response to the imperative 'shoot away!' Snapping an Airfix-kit propeller from the packaging frame is more satisfying.

'Thanks!', I say.
'Thanks?'
'Yes, I've got the shot....looks great!'
'You've got it....honest? When can I see it?'
'Ooh...' I do a quick calculation of tens of cameras making 26 stops each around the globe with postal and goodness knows what other delays along the way, and then the processing and editing time, '...maybe 2-3 months....make that nearer six.'
'And I can see it here?'
'Yes....but you've got to add ''.com'' after the word ''Blipfoto'', and then look for something to do with ''Ilford''...look just give me your email and I'll send you the link when it's all ready.'
His phone rings. 'Give me two minutes, darling', he says to his girlfriend, 'I'll call you back. I'm with my photographer at the moment'. My chest fills with pride at being referred to in such a way for the first time in my life.
'All ok?', I ask, slipping a note into his hand and carefully putting the camera away; I've wound it on against instructions; old habit's die hard.
'Fantastic, man! Thank you!'
'Thank YOU!'

From the brief glimpse I had of the shot through the viewfinder, I'm happy with it. Now, I'll wait and hold my breath and pray, just like in the good old days, that it does turn out ok! Can't wait!

The scene above is taken at Arpoador Point but my Ilford subject is not in shot!

PS
Many thanks on your kind comments on yesterday's shot and narrative.
Bb