Oct 14 2007
Breasts
I close my eyes and I see breasts. I open my eyes, look out the window and again I see breasts. That would have been normal if I was living on the ground floor of a beach house, but I live in an old building in Amsterdam on the fourth floor and my view consists of chimneys, clouds, roofs and pigeon shit, lots of pigeon shit, no breasts.
Why am I having these visions? Well, somebody made a remark about my erotic photographs being at least four years old and I felt challenged by that remark. I honestly do not know why. I was doing fine; I was photographing whatever I felt like photographing without focusing on theme, composition, perspective, interpretation, exhibits or publications. In fact I was getting closer to my camera than ever before. The results may not have been very impressive in the eyes of the art critic or the voyeur, but I was doing fine.
The person who was so observant to note that all my erotic photographs were at least four years old, was accurate. I photograph what is part of my life and four years ago I lost my appetite for sleeping around. Believe it or not, but this dirty old fool was getting sentimental about carnal pleasures. I get all choked up just typing this — but I am living the life of a faithful man.
Nobody who really knows me is going to actually believe this and that is understandable. Never trust anything that is written, photographed or filmed and you shall live a long and happy life, my grandfather used to say.
Just a few moments ago I was watching a very old interview with the Red Hot Chili Peppers and they were asked how they felt. The singer replied: “Well, we are sitting in the sun and we just had our dicks sucked off, so we are fine!” I guess that same attitude marked my life from my 16th up to my 49th and that was okay until one day I woke up with the idea that it had all been enough. For 33 years I had been looking for something; that little bit extra that had lacked in all my relationships with the finest of lovers and I guess I saw no point in looking any further. If that little bit extra had actually existed, I would have certainly found it. Statistics do not lie.
But what is a man like me – whose work is and has always been about sex and more sex – going to do with an attitude like that? Right! Getting closer to my camera, paying server bills, doing some site maintenance and listening to the stories of his lover coming home from work. So, like an old rocker asked to sing at the 30th anniversary of his band’s split-up, I decided to go on stage one more time — producing new material for a solo exhibit to be held in 2008.
I had little knowledge of where I was heading. The only thing I knew was that I wanted to photograph women, no younger than 40. A friend with a lot of contacts arranged 8 models and off I went. My lover joined me just to protect me from regressing to my normal behavior and it was really nice to have her with me, but there was really no need to shield me from the models or the models from me. God, I was so nervous!
According to my log I did 24 sessions in just over two weeks, downing countless bottles of South African white wine to work up the courage, and all that resulted in about 720 photographs. The ordeal is far from over yet, another 10 models are planned for the coming months.
I should be selecting the material I have already shot, but I am too afraid to even have a quick look at it. I know what these images will look like. Nice women, warm women looking into the lens of an overweight middle-aged photographer. Keywords: Empathy, Pity, and Amazement.
Still, I will not give up. Next January my new HansVanDerKamp.com will be up and running and all material will be new!