#TheseSoliloquies – Act I, Scene IV: Let's Ride // Cast: Kyle Coan
Act I, Scene IV: Let's Ride
Cast: Kyle Coan
Prelude:
I can’t say I really know anything about motorcycles. I mean, other than they look really cool and incredibly dangerous at the same time. And I admire them from afar, but then also get pissed off when they pass me on freeway as I'm siting there in bumper-to-bumper traffic. And I know my dad had one (before my existence), and when he shares stories, they all seem to end with the “And all I can say is that you’re lucky you have a dad” kind of closing note. But yeah, that’s all I got, folks. Well, and a predictable follow-up note: I’ve never photographed a motorcycle before. Correction, I’ve never taken pictures of any kind of motored vehicle before (excluding accidental background noise of cars driving by). And since there’s definitely a theme to my #TheseSoliloquies portrait series of: exploring unfamiliar territory and growing experience as a photographer–we now have Kyle and his Harley entering Act I.
Act I, Scene IV: Let’s Ride. I want to say the star of this scene is Kyle Coan, but the truth might be that his bike was the one that stole the spotlight. I met Kyle a little over a year ago during my final stretch of working at FINIS Inc. What I loved most about working for that company were all the relationships that I gained from my time there. I can whole-heartedly say that many of the people I had met there have become some of my dearest friends, and have encouraged me grow into the curious creative that I am now. But, I haven’t known Kyle for that long, so, the jury’s still out on this one. I think our friendship grew once we realized that we both speak (with a thick accent) the language of sarcasm. Which inevitably of course, leads to endless shit talk and messing with one another. So in all honestly, who really knows if we’re actually friends, because seriousness tends to be set aside, and then nerf guns come out to play instead. In conclusion, Kyle’s not the worst human I’ve encountered though. And as one could expect, when I asked him if he was available for a shoot, the conversation went through various forms of: “Yeah, I’m down. But I’m also probably busy and will probably flake. But yes, this weekend? But like you’re gonna pay me, right? Oh, I forgot I double booked and the other thing is more important. I changed my mind I never wanted to do a shoot. Confirmed, Saturday it is. Let’ do this.” Somehow, we made it from joking that I ever even asked him to do this, to actually making it happen. And here we are now.
The backdrop of Scene IV: Let’s Ride are the lovely roads and hills of Grizzly Peak in Berkeley. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer day, and as I was told, it was a great day to go for a ride. Though, the real topic in reflection of this shoot is actually: what do you do when you don’t love what you’ve made?
This can be a tough thing to address sometimes. Especially if your talent or client is asking for photos and you feel reluctant to share them. I think one of the hardest parts about admitting this defeat, is trying to make it clear that it has nothing to do with the person you’ve photographed, and really, it’s just your own damn mistakes. And you feel bad that you didn’t capture them in the awesomeness that they are and you wanted. Now to be honest, I’m not unhappy with this shoot with Kyle. I really dig a lot of the shots I grabbed. But yeah, I’m also kind of bummed that I didn’t do certain things differently. And I encountered familiar feelings in this shoot that reminded me of past projects I’ve done, and the disappointment with what I had produced. So much so, that it held me back from sharing–which led to me missing deadlines, losing confidence in myself, and ultimately, brought down my cred as a photographer and designer because I went about those situations all wrong.
Okay, real talk, how many times have you created something you weren’t proud of? Oof, I know, right? There are definitely ones that come to mind that make me cringe when I think about the workings behind why things didn’t play out right. Not properly prepping my gear or scouting. Running late to a shoot and then having to rush everything. Reviewing photos thinking “Why didn’t I change that setting? Why didn’t I bring any lights, a tripod, an assistant? Why must I be this way?" And of course, the other hardest part about not loving what you’ve created, is knowing that in the end you still have to deliver. Yeah, sure, there might be a reshoot option. But that’s a time suck. And passion projects can be different in this sense–no one needs to know that you fucked up, because no one knows what you did unless they were there. But, when it’s for a client…goddamn it. What do you do then? Do you send over your work and, 1) give an explanation why things look the way they do, 2) say nothing with hope that maybe they won’t see what you see, or 3) do some other option that I know exists but I’m blanking on at the moment.
Whatever choice you go with, the truth is, you still have to stand by your work. Because in the end, you did make it and it looks that way because of you. And you can blame as many higher powers, past selfs, weather gods, traffic controllers, and the person who got your coffee wrong that morning– all you want, all the live-long day. But if you want people to take you as a professional, respect you, and work with you again–just fucking own it. Because let’s be honest, you don’t know how they’re going to react or what they’ll say. Admit you messed up. Don’t go into detail on all the little pieces and why things didn’t line up to “prove” how it’s not your fault. That doesn’t matter. Tackle it head on. People are more inclined to work with you, if you make it a conversation and not a blame game. Don’t wait around in hopes that you can make it better. Address the situation and learn from what happened and what’s to follow. Because as much as we’d like to think magic exists, until it shows itself, we gotta chug along.
Start Scene:
Why does messing up relate to this shoot that I said I wasn’t unhappy with? Riiiight. Okay. Well as fun as the shoot was, I clearly encountered some difficulties. I’m trying to take into consideration that this was my first time doing a shoot like this, and all learning experiences take time. But, yes. Two things. First is, I wish I had an assistant. Having an extra hand would have been stellar and then I could have done some side-by-side and follow shots. I still feel like a dummy for not thinking about this ahead of time, because having someone who could drive while I shoot would have been epic. I also was trying to do panning shots for the first time. Thank goodness Kyle was patient and accepting of my broken record of: “Damn, I missed it. Could you go again? Just ride to that point and back again–this is the last time, I swear.” In all honestly, I probably should have practiced some panning techniques with a slower moving vehicle ahead of time, but you live and you learn. And second, I wish I had scouted more. Even though Grizzly Peak is my backyard, I realized only once driving up there, I hadn’t explored the area much - and if I did, I’d have a better idea of where would be a good place to go, instead of relying on Kyle to tell me. It’s always good to ask your talent for their thoughts, and knowing he has rode through the area quite a bit did help me gather some good information. But also, Kyle and I are most likely looking and thinking about things differently. And if I just had went a day before to simply drive through the area more, I could have given clearer direction to him, have more secluded areas mapped out, and know what backdrops I wanted to play with. It’s so scenic up there, every turn is a bit different from another–and I wish I got more of that and had a more structured plan.
Most of the time, shoots don’t go exactly as envisioned. That’s just a fact. And I know I’ve been a bit all over the place with this post– but we still got some dope shots. Kyle was a stud and looks badass, and I know how to make next time even better. Go ahead and take a look at a handful of images for our time cruisin’ around below. Thanks Kyle for letting me experiment, as well as letting me sit on a Harley for the first time.
