From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Every photographer has their own style and characteristics, and Bruce excels most at capturing emotions.

He strives to capture the emotions within the subject of his photography, honestly expressing elements of personality. Through his lens, he is always able to capture those fleeting, subtle emotional fluctuations. This, he believes, is the most precious quality in a person, and also the way that photography gives time a different meaning.

This is also the reason "GQ" sought Bruce's help to fill the vacancy, even though they knew Bruce had already completed two suit-themed shoots in a row.

If anyone could capture different qualities and colors under the same suit theme, then Bruce was undoubtedly the best choice.

Bruce immediately captured Anson's nervousness.

But Anson gave an unexpected answer.

"No, I'm not nervous. I'm just… stiff."

Thinking about it carefully, that statement wasn't wrong.

Bruce's lips twitched slightly, but the smile didn't fully form. He shook his head in denial, "You're too conscious of the camera."

Anson didn't understand, "I thought you were supposed to look at the camera when taking pictures."

Here, a psychological concept is involved: the fourth wall.

When watching a stage play, the left and right sides of the stage and the backdrop constitute three walls of the entire space, with the audience seating area making up the remaining side.

Therefore, the fourth wall is an invisible wall assumed to exist between the stage and the audience. This transparent wall separates the audience and the actors.

If the actors are aware of the existence of the fourth wall, they can concentrate on performing and ignore the presence of the audience.

If the audience ignores the existence of the fourth wall, they can fully immerse themselves in the performance, ignoring other influencing factors.

It is precisely because of this that in television and film shooting, the actor's gaze needs to avoid the camera as much as possible, to avoid breaking the fourth wall and destroying the sense of immersion, unless it is the director's carefully designed use of the fourth wall to create different forms of immersive experience.

But flat photography is different.

The model needs to look directly at the camera, break the fourth wall with their eyes, communicate with the audience, and complete the emotional transmission. This is a very important action.

Although it was Anson's first time as both an actor and a model, he still understood the basic theory and didn't make simple, fundamental mistakes.

So, where was the problem?

Was the approach wrong? Where did it go wrong?

Bruce didn't respond.

He knew Anson was correct. Flat photography does require communication with the camera. Although body language also accounts for a significant proportion, the power of the eyes cannot be ignored. Like the finishing touch in painting a dragon, it always requires the eyes in the end.

However, being too conscious of the camera led to stiffness in the limbs and expressions, not only destroying the overall balance, but also completely failing to capture Anson's charm and temperament. Even the smile at the corner of his mouth didn't reach the depths of his eyes.

Works photographed like this have no vitality.

So, how should the balance be struck?

This is the model's task, but it also requires the photographer's guidance. Words were already on the tip of his tongue, but Bruce noticed a detail—

At this moment.

Just this moment in front of him.

When the shooting stopped, without the flash and without the shutter, when he disengaged from the shooting state, the instant Anson opened his mouth to respond, his radiance returned. It was as if black and white had turned to color, and that vivid, bright Anson had broken free from the constraints of the paper and come to life.

So magical.

Bruce forcibly swallowed the words back down. He didn't respond and didn't pay attention, instead pressing the shutter with his right index finger again, capturing this moment before him.

Click!

The air was silent.

Anson: ???

The shutter and flash interrupted Anson's question. He was completely caught off guard, looking at Bruce with a bewildered expression, "What are you doing?"

Bruce had an idea.

"Don't pay attention to me, and don't be conscious of the camera. Treat this space in front of you as a playground. Move around, don't stay in one place and don't pose. Move according to your own ideas, release yourself completely, and leave everything else to me."

At this moment, Anson realized that he was still lacking in experience. Was Bruce asking him to go crazy and run wild in the studio?

Bruce didn't give Anson time to think, waving his hands to signal, "Move around, don't be restrained, do you need music? You can dance yourself."

Anson looked down at his outfit—

A suit.

This was a suit, not sportswear. How was he supposed to move around?

Moreover, unlike his usual casual suits, this suit was very fitted. From the shoulders to the elbows to the waist, he could feel the constraints everywhere.

A little bit of force and he felt like the clothes would tear. How was he supposed to move?

Anson had the illusion that he had accidentally broken into a fitness class, and before he had time to figure out whether it was spinning or aerobics, the instructor was leading the way like they were on steroids.

Involuntarily, Anson began to move—

But how should he move?

Street dance?

He didn't know how.

The more he thought about it, the more absurd it became, the funnier it seemed. The whole situation was full of humor, but Anson still moved, letting go and starting to sway.

Yes, sway.

Swaying like a six-year-old child wearing his father's suit, pretending to be in a meeting and making important work decisions, swaying without purpose or direction.

In his previous life, Anson was weak and sickly as a child. A little rain would give him a fever, a little wind would give him a cold, and eating the wrong thing would cause him to vomit and have diarrhea. His parents were worried about his health and sent him to learn martial arts to strengthen his body. It wasn't Shaolin Temple kung fu, just military boxing, fighting, and so on.

Kung fu or not, Anson hadn't tested it, but his body did become stronger little by little; moreover, he truly learned how to use his body.

Anson didn't expect that those things could actually be used now. Although the fitted suit was still awkward, his movements did become more lively.

So, does this count as "completing work while playing and earning money along the way"?

Click. Click. Click.

Bruce was recording.

In his hands, of course, was a film camera. Professional photographers now don't and can't use digital cameras, whose technology hasn't fully matured, for work.

Therefore, Bruce had no way to view his photos on the computer in real-time, but he had eyes—

Observing with his eyes, feeling with his intuition.

Having worked as a professional photographer for these years, five or six years in total, Bruce's greatest strength and talent was capturing that vitality.

In Bruce's own words, it was vitality.

So he liked to photograph life.

Such as animals. Such as humans.

Using film to record the moment when life blossoms, whether it's sadness or happiness, loss or joy, even nothingness can be frozen.

At this moment, Bruce was observing.

The situation had indeed improved, much better than the fixed poses just now.

Anson should move, not be imprisoned in place like a statue.

But it wasn't enough.

Not nearly enough.

First update.