Press Button To Blog - Horror Photography

I just realized the word "horror" is going to lose all meaning by end of this by how many times I'll need to use it. I'm so sorry, but there's only so many ways to write "horror movies". Flay me alive why don't you.

So. Horror photography. A very niche genre in the art to say the least. Horror movies alone have an ebb and flow in popular culture based upon the success and fails of Hollywood. Sure, there's always an undercurrent of diehard fans keeping the direct-to-video underground horror flicks coming, but rarely are scary movies at the top of the box office.

My love for horror movies all started when I was just a child of five or six years old. My grandmother actually put on the Crater Lake Monster for me one evening, an absolutely dreadful 1977 monster flick about a blood thirsty Lapras free from its Pokeball (....if we're being technical it was a plesiosaur, which was a dinosaur). In hindsight, there are Goosebumps episodes that are scarier than this VHS drivel. But to someone whose still watching Sesame Street, that rubber headed beast was terrifying. There was blood and teeth and guns! Thomas the Tank Engine didn't need weapons to solve his problems. This was revelation for my tiny brain. What was this?

After that I was hooked. Not to get into the questionable details of my depressing childhood, but I didn't have great adult supervision. It took an additional few years to be able to actually be able to watch some more by choice, thanks to somewhat free reign when visiting Blockbuster and Rogers Video. Independantly though, it's kind of impossible for a kid to know about these things in the early 90's without overt introduction from somewhere else. There weren't copies of Fangoria in kindergarten you know.

But once I had the ability to rent what I wanted, believe me I watched some very inappropriate horror movies for a child my age. The first one that I recall that actually gave me nightmares was around 7 years old, and it was the Exorcist. Peering from underneath my blankey I was mesmerized by the gory scenes and the terrifying imagery portrayed on the TV. It was Regan crabwalking down the stairs is what did it for me. I spent most of the rest of the film with my eyes shut, listening to the demonic sounds she cried out, with my young imagination doing as much of the heavy lifting as what was put to screen. Until that point the few others I had seen were in the vein of monster movies and cheesy slashers. I was attracted to the VHS cases that showed claws and teeth, where the bad guys looked like they were going Trick or Treating if you squinted hard enough. Suddenly I came across a movie that was meant to make adults feel uneasy. A monumental event in cinema that helped harold in a new genre to the mass audience. The Exorcist made horror a genre to talk about. And it was the first (and one of the few) that would give me genuine chills.

As I grew older, I began to realize that there was something more to the macabre aesthetics of horror that fascinated me. There was of course the FEELING of excitment that horror fans chase. Like those additicted to rollarcoasters. You want to feel safe while being afraid. A jolt of adrenaline to the system that's proved to be the downfall to many. But more than that was everything that went into putting it togeather. The system behind creating the horror. There are the writers, who need to craft something suspenseful and terrifying, the fabricators of elaborate costumes, the manufacturers of the bloody practical effects, not to forget the crucial element of the the many scream queens behind all of the onscreen titalation. There was a craft behind it I admired as well.

The darker subject matter that's found in scary movies can put some people off. I get that. Not everyone can stomach entrails being splattered across the room. Even though I don't have the same reaction, I get that some peoples' brains react more vicerally than mine. Perhaps I'm just desensitized. Maybe I'm psychotic. I don't know. I'll leave that question for the doctors at my involuntary mental facility which was generously prescribed by my doctor. I'm kidding of course. There are no generous doctors.

But in all seriousness. Let's get back to talking about the boobies. The tits in scary movie titalation. I've always found that there is a close relationship between horror and eroticism. Made obvious by the copious amounts of nudity found in old school slasher flicks. The skin tingling taboo of it all has always been an easy sell to audiences. Both genres have the ability to explore taboo themes and push boundaries, often in ways that challenge our perceptions of what is acceptable. The popularity of horror movies and porn have been the cause of multiple societal shifts, as fans have rushed to defend them and morality laws have been altered to accept them. Ours likes and dislikes as a people are reflected in the things we choose to create and watch. Whether it's social commentary or sex work. Beyond that, taken to the extreme is teratophilia – the attraction to monsters and creatures – and how it relates to niche appreciation for horror and fetish photography.

One notable example of this kind of fetishism is found in the character of Pinhead from the Hellraiser franchise. Pinhead is both terrifying and alluring, his extreme appearance and BDSM-inspired outfit striking a balance of horror and eroticism. His whole gimmick had been built around the concept of a sadomasochistic otherworld. It's no surprise that Pinhead is a popular subject for artists and photographers who work in the dark and eerie realm of fetish imagery. The motif of he and his compatriots has been referenced in countless derivitive works and has influenced many fashion choices in underground scenes. Other examples are the nurses from Silent Hill, another franchise that's heavily influenced by sexual desire in multiple of its stories.

Suffice to say there's a great variety in the genre, ranging from the straight forward pinup girls pretending to be vampires like Elvira, to the elaborate scenes by the likes of Joshua Hoffine meant to look like screen shots from a movie. Horror shoots present their own unique challenges though. Sure, every photo needs a backdrop or a set. But finding the right location that sets the required tone is a challenge. Most people don't like the dangerous, dilapitated look in day to day life, as it tends to bring down the neighbourhood property values.

There's the specialty artists akin to those found on reality show Face Off. It's not simply enough to have worked at a Sephora, which would otherwise be beneficial for getting talent camera ready. No, horror makeup artists need to learn how to convey decayed, rotten flesh or a mutating alien virus burrowing under the skin. If the shoot is eleborate enough, you might need a fabricator to make props ranging from simple injuries to full body suits, or a graphic artist for post production Photoshop work to bring the fantasy to life where the real world fails. Much like cosplay, horror photography will often rely on intricate and outlandish outfits, unlike what most seemstresses are trained for. Buying some fabric off a roll and cutting it down isn't going to cut it. If any of you have ever been to a leather store, or more specifically a fetish shop, you'll know just how expensive that Pinhead style gear can get.

Then there's the models themselves. Often the type to prefer to remain aesthetically delightful, models usually aren't keen on actively making themselves look worse. Find someone who has spent years only showcasing their best sides from just the right angles, then tell them to contort their faces in fear and agony and watch as they learn about all of the double chins and crows feet that they didn't know they had. You need a particular type of person who is willing to lay contorted on the ground covered in simulated vicera and pretend like they're being mauled by a serial killer. That's not the type of work that typically leads to fashion shows and Instagram sponsorships.

Creating these kinds of images also requires a great deal of creativity and technical expertise. It's not enough to simply set up a camera and have your model pose in a creepy location. The lighting, composition, camera angles, and post-processing must all work together to create a compelling image that captures the essence of the horror genres.

The use of light, shadows, and color to create images that are both haunting and beautiful. To achieve that sense of horror that comes with something that is not quite right. It's not about being gratuitous or shocking for the sake of it, but rather capturing the darkness in a way that others can appreciate and relate to. It's about capturing the beauty in the horrifying and the artistic possibility in the grotesque.

Some people might dismiss horror as morbid, or even unhealthy, but for me, it's a healthy way to for people to express their fascination with the macabre and that which lives in the shadows. It allows us to push the boundaries of what is considered socially acceptable, explore taboo themes, and challenge our own perceptions of beauty and desire. And with so many talented and passionate artists and photographers working in the genre, there is a wealth of inspiration to be found for those who are willing to embrace the darkness and explore the unknown.

Press Button To Blog - Cosplay Photography

As a lonely nerd since childhood, I have always been a bit fascinated by cosplay photography. Growing up in the 1990s, I was surrounded by the increasing normalcy of geek culture, and everything that came with it. Video games, comic books, wrestling, and board games were my thing before they were socially acceptable hobbies. Believe me, I paid for my indulgiences socially. The crowds that were into those things in the 90's weren't the same ones getting invited to parties and getting all the girls.

Nowadays, it seems like a large portion of North American economy and culture is centered around the properties that we grew up with in the 80s and 90s. It's amazing to see how these brands have grown and evolved over the years. Just recently $30 million worth of Funko Pops were thrown into a landfill, thousands of figurines for characters that weren't popular enough to sell, simply trashed. That pales in comparison to the billion dollars they made in 2021 just for that brand of toy alone. Spread that across every property, from TV, videogames, shirts, posters, books, etc. and you're reaching values of billions upon billions for things that were once consider niche.

One of the prominant results from this cultural shift has been the rapid explosion of "cosplaying" as a hobby. For those of you who somehow haven't come across this term, it's basically people dressing up as their favourite characters like it's Halloween party and they're trying to win best costume.

One of my favorite experiences in recent years was attending Comicon in Toronto, where I was able to see firsthand the amount of effort that cosplayers put into showcasing their love for the brands they grew up with. From superheroes to video game characters, cosplayers bring these personalities to life with incredible detail, making them feel like they just jumped out of the screen or page.

Now, with all that being said, I've never actually done any cosplay myself, nor have I photographed anyone doing so. I've technically taken photos of cosplayers from afar, but never worked with anyone directly as models. Which of course is something I'd like to do in the future as I expand from my diaramas and taking pictures of snails. But doing so with strangers at a convention seems strange to me. They didn't get dressed up to take pictures specifically with me, so that experience isn't the same as with portraiture. Even though I adore candid photography, there's also something lost when taking pictures from afar when the focus is on the costume and not the event itself.

Being a bit of a perfectionist, I would love working with cosplayers to create images that highlight the details of their outfits and their character, from the seams and textures to the accessories and props. It's amazing how much thought and hard work goes into some of those outfits, it's a shame to not showcase them prominantly. Understanding their nuances and creating an ambience that helps accentuate these features is also important. Sure She-Hulk and Poison Ivy might both be green skinned, but how you would want to shoot them would change. You might find the cold concrete of the city with some sort of action pose is better suited to the former, but a backdrop of trees and a sulty stare is a fit for the latter. Someone who doesn't know or appreciate the variation in tone and story that comes along with these charactors simply won't be able to do them justice unless you're trying to subvert expectations.

For me, cosplay photography is not only about the incredible artistry and creativity that goes into creating these costumes, but also about capturing the joy and appreciation that these individuals have for the characters and franchises that they revere. Like a wedding or other special occasions, the cosplayers may never experience that moment again. The costume could be a one off, or perhaps they had to travel to attend and may never again. It's not enough just to get a "good" picture for myself, but a photo that best encapsulates the FEELING they had for the brief time where they became someone else.

As a nerdy boy who grew up loving everything from video games to comic books, I love that fans now get to showcase their passion and creativity as cosplayers. And it doesn't hurt that I'm in a place where I get to theoretically assist in fulfilling someone's fantasy, because every once in a while every one should get to feel superhuman.

Press Button To Blog - Death Of A Photographer

As a hobbiest in this game, I can't help but feel a sense of dread for the future of photography for a multitude of reasons. In particular, like millions in wide ranging industries, I worry about the role that artificial intelligence (AI) will play in taking over the task of capturing images. Everything is taken out of the hands of real people and into the algorithms controlled by conglomerate corporations. Dystopian hellscape and all that jazz.

To fully understand my personal perspective, it's important to understand my journey into photography. I got into the advertising industry straight out of college, well past the heyday of the Mad Men era when half the job was partying and day drinking (not that day drinking still doesn't happen, it's just not day drunk). I mention this because I used to be told by some of the older crew about all the fun times I missed having been born a few decades late. The Golden Era had passed, and I was sitting there thirty years too late trying to bask in the remaining, ever fading light of what had become a straight laced industry dominated by percentage points and award shows. Talks around boozy lunches about wild parties with celebrities and winning trips to the Caribbean, and all the benefits of being the pioneers of an industry. At the time of course it annoyed me a bit, because who likes missing out on all of the fun? But what could I do about it? Like everyone else, there was little to do about it then to just to work 9-5 in my extremely HR appropriate office job?

I had already been interested in photography as a teen before my short-lived advertising career, but due to being, how do the kids say it nowadays..."under-privilgaed"? I wasn't able to get into the hobby the way I would have liked, so I pushed it way back on the burner when dinners go-to-die, to focus on other interests, namely working so I could put unburned food on the table. Obviously photography is an incredibly important, crucial part of advertising though, so it was almost always something on my mind as I studied and evaluated campaigns as a part of my education. Regardless of how witty the copy, viral the idea or flashy the celebrity, shit still needs to look good in order to sell. And that's where the photographer would come into play. Who wants to eat a burger that looks like it fell on the kitchen floor? Who wants to stay in an AirBnb when what's on display look like crime scene evidence? Why bother hiring the latest busty starlett if she looks like she belongs in the in memoriam section of an awards show? So I know better than the average person how important photography all is to a successful marketing mix.

Then I left the advertising indsutry and started working in the security field, where among other places I worked in various clubs and bars. Then of course similar stories continued from the old guard, telling me about how I missed the golden years of working as a bouncer as well. Thanks to the proliferation and celebration of "gangster" culture, gone are the man to man street fights that have since been replaced by group beatings and casual public shootings.

Nowadays, working in security you're mostly always at a disadvantage against the people who might want to do harm. If someone threatens to kill you, you stand there and take it. Only if they attack you first can you get physical, and by then you've already been hurt. Nowadays society is geared towards protecting the perpetrators rather than the victims. You used to be able to do a little bit of street justice when the occasion called for some, let's call it, "regulating". But now there are cameras everywhere and unfortauntely most of the time the bad people that cameras are meant to deter don't actually care. It only seems to work against the people who have to deal with the dredges of society to hold them accountable to the law that is powerless to prevent problems to begin with. "Oh, why did you punch that career criminal when he got in your face and said that he'd come back and murder you and your collegues? Oh my how unproffessional. To jail with you!" On numerous occasions I've intervened when someone has been violent and out of control, who were hurting entirely innocent, random people... only to then have some idiot's camera shoved in my face and told that I was a bully, or racist, or whatever else simply because I won the fight while preventing others from being injured. But it's more important to have something to angrily upload without context to social media than it is to actually know what's going on. It's simply the worst feeling to put yourself in harms way for the benefit of others only to be punished for it.

Then I left security to start working in the less stressful hospitality field, specifically in cooking. I'll give my dear readers a guess as to what I discovered there as well. I've missed all the fun parts of the culinary indsutry! Everything is now apparently derivative, too frou-frou, that the excitement of burgeoning food scenes had long since died down to the point where every city now has every type of cuisine doing the same thing every other metropolis is doing. Restaurants had/have been dying en masse due to inane COVID policies and lingering economic downturns. Workers are quitting in droves due to the low pay, dreary working conditions and the horrible treatment from both customers and coworkers. The whole industry fucking sucks. Even if you're successful, it still majorely sucks. Sweating into rich folk's food as you slave away in a sweltering kitchen under never ending hours, just to get a photo in an outdated magazine and your name recommended in travel foodie blogs. There's a reason every chef you meet is a miserable prick unless you're giving them money.

Listen. I'm appreciative of all the opportunties I've gotten. Through sheer hard work and a dash of luck, I've been in somewhat better positions than many of the people my age and the experience at the time. And I would never take away all of the personal growth and wealth of stories that I've received in return. But let's be honest, it is still fucking demoralizing to be told that in almost everything you do, that it was better before you got there, through no fault of your own. Perhaps it's just the emo teenager that's held hostage deep within my psyche, but I was so sick of being told that I was too late to be a part of the party.

As a technical millennial (don't hold it against me) growing up in the 90's and 2000's, I had already missed the years that many consider some of the best in modern history. Gone were the days where you could settle down and create a comfy life for yourself just by working hard. You might never become rich working in more blue collar jobs, but you could provide for yourself without struggling. Now unless you're lucky enough to be truly, highly successful, a lot of people find a lot of what was once achievable by the average person to be little more than a pipe dream for people in this day and age. Buying a house? Forget about it, people can barely afford groceries and renting a roof over their head.

Now, against my better judgement I decided to get more involved in another industry that's has already had it's best days way behind it. There will always be a need for cameras, and to a degree a need for photographers for events that people would rather trust an expert for (like a wedding). But slowly photographers are going to be replaced as well, just as I'm trying to make my way into the fold. Suffice to say, it's disheartening.

I knew that it was going to be a difficult task, carving out my own niche in an oversaturated market against others with more experience. At the time I made the decision to invest in myself, I thought that with my overall skillset from previous positions, that the deficit I faced could be overcome. I knew how to market myself and my future business aspirations, I knew from extensive customer service roles how to interact and work with people to get customers satisfied with the end results. I thought I could do this.

And then, just as I began studying and playing around with my camera, with hopes and aspirations of one day making money in the field doing a job that I genuinely enjoy...then came the worst timeline's version of Artificial Intelligence. Well I suppose it's not THE worst, but it's a distant second.

On a macro level, in the time since A.I became such a debated topic, hundreds of thousands of people have already been estimated to have lost their positions due to redundency. Why hire a human who complains and needs time off and stays out sick and wants raises? Just get the computers with programs like ChatGPT to do it. As computers and algorithms become more advanced, it's becoming increasingly easy for people to take great photos without having any real photography experience. With the help of tools like Photoshop and other editing software, anyone can create fantastic images basically out of thin air.

It's not just AI and editing software that's a threat to photography, either. Advances in cellphone camera technology mean that more people than ever before have access to near professional grade cameras right in their pockets. Sure, afficiandos can argue that it's just not the same, and that the artificial upscaling required in phones leads to a loss in quality. For the majority of uses though, consumers can't tell the difference between a photograph taken on a Leica M11 vs a Google Pixel. Frankly, it's starting to feel like the art of photography is becoming obsolete. I can't help but feel a little lost. Was it a bad idea to put all my eggs in one basket, so to speak? As much as it pains me to say it, I think that it may be time to start looking at other career avenues. The world of photography is changing, and not in my favour.

The recent emergence of programs like Midjourney has made it easier and more affordable for people to create images without any real skill, experience, or passion. While automation undoubtedly has its benefits, it also has the potential to destroy the very thing that makes photography an art form - creativity.

As mentioned, we have already witnessed programs like ChatGPT decimate writing careers as businesses turn to easier, cheaper, and faster ways of producing content. Within a year of its launch, ChatGPT had already caused the end of many writing careers as businesses turned to the program for content creation. Which was a large part of the recent Hollywood writer's strike. It's not difficult to see how the same thing could happen to the photography industry as well.

Photography, like writing, requires creativity, intellect, and a special touch that separates professionals from amateurs. As AI technology continues to disrupt the photography industry, I fear that we may see the emergence of an overabundance of soulless, drivel void of any real meaning or emotion. The very essence that makes photography such a powerful and engaging art form may no longer exist, leaving the industry with nothing but hollow imitations of real talent.

There is certainly a place for AI and automation in the photography industry, and it can be used to enhance and complement the skills of professionals. However, I believe that the true value of photography lies in the unique perspective and skill of the artist behind the lens. Photography isn't just about capturing an image in perfect focus and lighting, but rather capturing the essence of the moment and the emotion that inspired it. The ultimate question about AI is whether it can mimic the human eye and emotions, or whether it can only present a 4K soda can being crushed by a mountain troll or whatever the fuck.

I value the art of capturing raw emotion in my shots. To do this, I need to have a deep understanding of the subject I'm photographing, the environment in which they exist, and the mood or emotion that they are experiencing. This level of understanding and connection is something that can't be replicated by a machine or a program.

In conclusion, the rise of AI technology and programs like Midjourney pose a threat to traditional photography as we know it. It's important to remember that while automation can enhance the skills of professionals, it can never replace the creativity and unique perspective of the artist behind the lens. To truly capture the essence of life and emotion, we must rely on the skills and passion of real photographers who are dedicated to their craft. Anything else is just a facsimile of real talent. Whether or not the average photography has real talent is a question for another day.