Photographing Life at the Met.
On an somewhat cold spring trip to New York City, I stopped by the Metropolitan Museum of Art with my toxic ex-girlfriend and her sister. After a quick stop at B&H that morning, I loaded a roll of Fuji Pro400H into my Canon Elan 7e.
Now, normally I'm more of a Kodak kid. I rarely use Fujifilm, although I do respect them as a company for their deep background in film and their impressive line of digital cameras. I grew up shooting Kodak film due to the fact that I have a history of using motion picture film stocks, and Fuji doesn't really help me out in that department. Thus, I am a Kodak kid.
Regardless of this fact, when I asked the kind man at the darkroom section of B&H what film they had, he listed off some eh-films, and then told me his list of "Professional films." With the eyes of two employees and my (still) toxic ex-girlfriend and her sister on me, I awkwardly laughed and said, "I'm a professional."
And so I bought Portra 800 and Fuji Pro400H.
With that little story out of the way, let's continue:
Fuji has not disappointed me. While I typically hate the muddy green colours that some Fuji stocks and even some Kodak stocks show in the shadows, Pro400H honestly feels much better than that of a lower end stock like Ektar. Looking back at recent rolls I shot of Ektar, all I see is the shade of "vomit of a dead filmmaker" in the shadows.
Anyways, the Met is gorgeous. The last time I had been in an art museum was probably when I was 12, unappreciative of the arts, and tired from waking up at 6:00 A.M. to get breakfast at a Jewish Deli.
I didn't even like bagels until I was 18.
All my hopes and dreams of being a respected photographer were crushed when I saw the true, bleeding art that this world had to offer. All my years of training in composition and lighting are meaningless when staring at the sculptures of the gods and the finest paint ever to be spread on a canvas.
And so I leave you with these photographs taken of some of the finest art this world has ever seen. Like imprints of disappointment, and mere copies of the subject. Photographing art is a sin, and it is a sin I have committed.