Tonight I was asked if my work in this series has changed over time. Yes, yes it has. I noticed this the last time i photographed, a couple weeks ago. I wanted to write about why it has changed as sort of a marker of time and its effect on art.
Over time, the wall between me and these women has started to break so there is visibly more comfortability in the photos. Also, what I mean by the photos being more "art" and less documentary is because over time I've started seeing them not so much as crossdressers but as a group of women. So the "art" comes in as the photographs are becoming simply photographs of people. A social gathering. This is not to say that a photograph of just anything or anyone can't be "art." I am saying that the best stories are told first hand. Art viewers bring their own experience to relate to a piece. As a photographer, I bring my own experience to a setting until my subjects become an experience.
In the beginning, as much as I wanted to stay away from irony, I couldn't help but capture it because my relationship with these women was purely superficial and from afar. I still see the duality in certain situations but now just the same as any photographer sees duality, irony, humor and beauty enough to photograph it.
To quote Nan Goldin, "These pictures come out of relationships, not observations."
This statement has driven this series from the very beginning. This was my goal. Fortunately, it is a goal I don't have to stop at once achieved.
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
I like my meat well done!
It's been a while since I've updated here. Mostly due to laziness...also I hadn't been so consistent in showing up. But recently I saw some benefits of my general consistency with the ladies. Last week they threw me a birthday party since I wasn't present during my actual birthday a week prior. I got a cake which they do generally. But then Rita brought out the card they had all signed and the camera bag they bought me. They bought me a camera bag. I guess they noticed that I never use one when I'm there. I was speechless.
Apparently the week before there had been some drama surrounding picture taking during a function and one of the ladies got a little bent when I started firing my camera. But Amy then pulled me aside to explain...and then told me that she's ok with me photographing her. That I've been around so much and she trusts that what I do will be tasteful. Exactly what I was hoping for this whole year. I've become one of them as much as possible and it's perfect. So they nominated me to cook dinner the next week which brings us to today.
Apparently the week before there had been some drama surrounding picture taking during a function and one of the ladies got a little bent when I started firing my camera. But Amy then pulled me aside to explain...and then told me that she's ok with me photographing her. That I've been around so much and she trusts that what I do will be tasteful. Exactly what I was hoping for this whole year. I've become one of them as much as possible and it's perfect. So they nominated me to cook dinner the next week which brings us to today.
I grilled burgers and made a pasta salad which they applauded twice. The love I feel in the group is immense and we laugh at each other like old friends and family. After the cooking and eating there was talk about children raised, one of which I wasn't aware of. There also seemed to be some light competition between two of the ladies whose names I won't mention here. Perhaps it's because they're so close in pass-ability. Speaking of which, last week was Christina's first night dressing. I didn't even recognize her. (In the past she had been the one in full male dress taking baby steps with only eyeliner.) Tonight was her first night out in public dressed as a woman. Amy took her for a walk around the neighborhood after her and a few other girls helped Christina brush out her wig and discussed synthetic hair vs. human hair wigs.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
"Viagra Falls!"
said a voice from the kitchen. They were wrapping up the night and moving the party to a club across town where Clover was calling bingo. Tonight was the "Red, White and Blue Barbecue" and adorably enough, everyone was festively dressed in the themed colors. I met someone new (to me) tonight named Lucille who is fantastic. Very enthusiastic in her stories and garb. I hope to see more of her. She told a story of a time when she had been featured on magazine covers. She was walking in the village with her daughter who, at the time, didn't know of her other life and stopped at a book and magazine stand. Her daughter pointed at a particular magazine commenting on the beauty of the woman on the cover. The cover girl was Lucille. Her daughter was clueless to this and Lucille agreed, doing her best to muffle her laughter.
I had a moving conversation with Brittany tonight regarding coming out to unsupportive partners. All I will say here is how wonderful it is to be able to have quality personal conversations with people whom I've just recently met. Not to mention being able to offer my own experience.
Tonight was a full eve with many people and loads of food being grilled. Also, I finally saw the woman who brought me to CDI for the first time last year. She was sort of cold to me. Just said that she remembered me and continued her primping for the next outing. Also also, I think one of the ladies, who had been very welcoming to me last year, doesn't like my presence. But I have the support of the other ladies there so I don't worry about it too much. Even outsiders need support too! And speaking of supportive outsiders, I am officially a member of CDI. I will be paying the small fee next time around so I can pay the members fee for dinners and functions. Rita, the President, offered this option to me and welcomed me to come more often. Apparently it doesn't matter if I'm crossdressing. I only have to be nice and supportive. And with a kiss on each cheek, Rita said, "welcome to the family.
I had a moving conversation with Brittany tonight regarding coming out to unsupportive partners. All I will say here is how wonderful it is to be able to have quality personal conversations with people whom I've just recently met. Not to mention being able to offer my own experience.
Tonight was a full eve with many people and loads of food being grilled. Also, I finally saw the woman who brought me to CDI for the first time last year. She was sort of cold to me. Just said that she remembered me and continued her primping for the next outing. Also also, I think one of the ladies, who had been very welcoming to me last year, doesn't like my presence. But I have the support of the other ladies there so I don't worry about it too much. Even outsiders need support too! And speaking of supportive outsiders, I am officially a member of CDI. I will be paying the small fee next time around so I can pay the members fee for dinners and functions. Rita, the President, offered this option to me and welcomed me to come more often. Apparently it doesn't matter if I'm crossdressing. I only have to be nice and supportive. And with a kiss on each cheek, Rita said, "welcome to the family.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
When I Sleep With My Stud it Irritates My Hole..
That magical quote is compliments of Bambi when discussing the perils of the pierced ear. Surprisingly she was being serious and unsurprisingly, everyone else's mind was in the gutter.
The moment I graced the ladies with my sweaty disgusting presence tonight, I was whisked away (2 feet away) to the table, seated and fed chicken. Rita later force-fed broccoli to me like a caring but sneaky mother. Just to make sure I finished the last big piece she ate the smaller one while making "yummy" noises. Then I was charged the member price for dinner. I met a new lady tonight by the name of Brittany, I think. She's the first Black dresser I've met in this group and is a musician who tours a lot. Didn't recognize her but we hit it off immediately. I snapped her picture like a celebrity and eventually, she got used to it. By this time I've definitely become as much one of them as an outsider can be.
Tonight we received the announcement that one of our members is now going by her chosen middle name which was an interesting concept. Like a re-coming out. Welcome home, Bonnie. I believe she's going the distance with transitioning so it will be interesting to see if she continues to come around afterwards.
Tonight's festivities was topped with another cake, this time to say goodbye to Wren who got a wonderful university teaching job in North Dakota. I shared the couch with Amy's wife as we gabbed about fried food and the Chinatown bus. There was much talk of travel and camping experiences. Brittany was so into our food conversation she said someone could've come over and stole her wallet and she never woulda known. Cause, well, we're talkin about food! Fried spaghetti and high cholesterol. Mmm mmm good. I tell you, the humor these people have....it's like an age old friend reunion every time. Chock full of anecdotes and recipes.
At the opening of my show at PEP Gallery in Brooklyn Bambi asked if she could have a copy of her portrait. Of course I agreed but didn't know that I had captured a milestone. That was her last portrait before the face lift. I didn't know about the surgery until she told me tonight. I thought she was kidding. Not so much. She looks fantastic. While at the tavern tonight we continued the conversation about it. Today she had her first botox injection as well. I asked if she went through with these reconstructions because of age or beauty. (Granted, she's a beautiful older woman and looks younger than I'm sure she already is. I don't know her age.) She said they come hand in hand. That she would do anything to go back to when she was 25. That she's making up for lost time. She's only been dressing publicly for a little over 10 years, privately since puberty. She doesn't feel the need to transition fully because I think she's gotten used to who she is throughout the years of having no model for what a transitioned woman lives like. Realizing this about herself when she was wee was so painful that to further complicate it was out of the question. She has the acceptance of her loved ones and coworkers. She's alright. Bambi then told me that when she was dressing in private, she'd go to the department store to get her outfit and shoes, all her everything. She'd go home and get all dolled up, makeup and all but wouldn't shave her mustache. She even had long hair then. She thought no one would know her secret if she kept her mustache. This concept had me perplexed at first but she explained to me that in her head, if people saw her with long hair and no facial hair that they'd assume she wanted to be a woman. From my own experiences I can understand that mindset so she didn't have to explain to me that logically, if the public isn't looking for differences, they won't notice...but for people like us, every detail matters.
The moment I graced the ladies with my sweaty disgusting presence tonight, I was whisked away (2 feet away) to the table, seated and fed chicken. Rita later force-fed broccoli to me like a caring but sneaky mother. Just to make sure I finished the last big piece she ate the smaller one while making "yummy" noises. Then I was charged the member price for dinner. I met a new lady tonight by the name of Brittany, I think. She's the first Black dresser I've met in this group and is a musician who tours a lot. Didn't recognize her but we hit it off immediately. I snapped her picture like a celebrity and eventually, she got used to it. By this time I've definitely become as much one of them as an outsider can be.
Tonight we received the announcement that one of our members is now going by her chosen middle name which was an interesting concept. Like a re-coming out. Welcome home, Bonnie. I believe she's going the distance with transitioning so it will be interesting to see if she continues to come around afterwards.
Tonight's festivities was topped with another cake, this time to say goodbye to Wren who got a wonderful university teaching job in North Dakota. I shared the couch with Amy's wife as we gabbed about fried food and the Chinatown bus. There was much talk of travel and camping experiences. Brittany was so into our food conversation she said someone could've come over and stole her wallet and she never woulda known. Cause, well, we're talkin about food! Fried spaghetti and high cholesterol. Mmm mmm good. I tell you, the humor these people have....it's like an age old friend reunion every time. Chock full of anecdotes and recipes.
At the opening of my show at PEP Gallery in Brooklyn Bambi asked if she could have a copy of her portrait. Of course I agreed but didn't know that I had captured a milestone. That was her last portrait before the face lift. I didn't know about the surgery until she told me tonight. I thought she was kidding. Not so much. She looks fantastic. While at the tavern tonight we continued the conversation about it. Today she had her first botox injection as well. I asked if she went through with these reconstructions because of age or beauty. (Granted, she's a beautiful older woman and looks younger than I'm sure she already is. I don't know her age.) She said they come hand in hand. That she would do anything to go back to when she was 25. That she's making up for lost time. She's only been dressing publicly for a little over 10 years, privately since puberty. She doesn't feel the need to transition fully because I think she's gotten used to who she is throughout the years of having no model for what a transitioned woman lives like. Realizing this about herself when she was wee was so painful that to further complicate it was out of the question. She has the acceptance of her loved ones and coworkers. She's alright. Bambi then told me that when she was dressing in private, she'd go to the department store to get her outfit and shoes, all her everything. She'd go home and get all dolled up, makeup and all but wouldn't shave her mustache. She even had long hair then. She thought no one would know her secret if she kept her mustache. This concept had me perplexed at first but she explained to me that in her head, if people saw her with long hair and no facial hair that they'd assume she wanted to be a woman. From my own experiences I can understand that mindset so she didn't have to explain to me that logically, if the public isn't looking for differences, they won't notice...but for people like us, every detail matters.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Catch Up
Unfortunately, I was unable to photograph tonight as planned. Instead, I will fill all of you in a bit so you can better understand where I spend my Wednesdays.
This apartment in Midtown, Manhattan is not owned by one person. The group was founded by one person (whom I met at their annual prom dinner) and is funded by its members like many other organizations. There is a president, vp, treasurer, secretary, etc who are elected at the end of each term. I'm actually not sure how long each position lasts. Anyway, this is a safe place for crossdressers to go whether or not they are closeted. It is a place where crossdressers and some transgender women come so they can live out their femme identities.
There are meetings and talks as well. Informative speakers sometimes come to discuss issues within the community and femininity. A big name in femme etiquette with whom these ladies are close with is Miss Vera. Miss Vera runs and founded the Finishing School for Boys. It's exactly what it sounds like. She teaches the nitty gritty of presenting as a woman for those not born into a female body. I also had the pleasure of being present when the ladies had an ear-piercing party. One of the dressers, Amy, brought her wife in to pierce the ears of those who desired so. Amy's wife is so supportive of her husbands lifestyle that she shops with and for her. She dresses her up and whatnot. They love each other. And their love is, unfortunately, rare. Amy's wife is not photographed because that would "out" Amy.
The astonishing thing here is that no matter how they present as women, the change over is astonishing. Sure you might notice differences between women born women and a few of these ladies but the minute they come out of the bathroom changed back to their male persona, minutes pass before I can figure out who just left the building. One of the most important aspects of this series is not photographing the ladies between genders. That theme is so overdone these days but more importantly, I don't see them as men and neither will the public. The livelihood and honesty that bursts from their experiences as women is nothing to be muddied with by their inevitable change of clothing.
Many of my photographs feature a woman named Ashley. I am growing close to her as the project continues as she is most comfortable and very experienced in front of a lens. When I first met her I was confused as to what her situation was. I was sure she was a transitioned male to female. As it turns out, she started dressing only 6 years ago and is not on hormones. As none of these women are 24/7, Ashley would be if she had hair. She only doesn't dress at home because of the wig discomfort. She is absolutely one of the most elegant and graceful women I've ever encountered, dresser or not. The way she maneuvers around a room and through doorways is something to be admired. She's like a Hepburn, really. Either one. Take your pick. Her humor is perfectly timed and her experience is admirable. When this series was shown to a graduate school board, she was mistaken for Nancy Reagan. A classic New York woman, she is, and I have started to spend time with her outside of the gathering place as I hope to do with some of the others.
I will leave you with this snippet of a story:
On a certain Wednesday night, a first-timer joined us in her best efforts. Her clothing was droopy, makeup inexperienced, and her wig was jet black and tangled like one sold at a costume shop. She was as sweet as pie and a little on the quiet side. I would be too as these gals are intimidating at first. She sat on the arm of the sofa and watched as her peers blew innuendos and caddy jokes at each other. Little by little she got involved in the goings-ons. What I will never forget was when some of the other ladies started to give her tips on presenting as a woman. They were delicate with her. The nest of tangled jet black straw became less and less drastic as one of the women began to brush it for her. Then another joined in the styling. The new girl sat on her arm of the sofa as two of her elders did what they could with a comb and brush. Like big sisters to their younger sibling or even a mother to daughter... "Next time DON'T get jet black. [says another as the combers shake their heads.] Look at your eyebrows....go with auburn. Jet black is always a no-no."
The newcomer agreed and blushed with appreciation. There was barely an age difference between her and her "elders" even though this was her first time physically acknowledging her femme identity. As I witnessed this rite of passage I couldn't help but think the amount of relief this newcomer was feeling after a lifetime of being closeted. That age is not a formula for experience and a mother's instinct need not be reserved for mothers.
This apartment in Midtown, Manhattan is not owned by one person. The group was founded by one person (whom I met at their annual prom dinner) and is funded by its members like many other organizations. There is a president, vp, treasurer, secretary, etc who are elected at the end of each term. I'm actually not sure how long each position lasts. Anyway, this is a safe place for crossdressers to go whether or not they are closeted. It is a place where crossdressers and some transgender women come so they can live out their femme identities.
There are meetings and talks as well. Informative speakers sometimes come to discuss issues within the community and femininity. A big name in femme etiquette with whom these ladies are close with is Miss Vera. Miss Vera runs and founded the Finishing School for Boys. It's exactly what it sounds like. She teaches the nitty gritty of presenting as a woman for those not born into a female body. I also had the pleasure of being present when the ladies had an ear-piercing party. One of the dressers, Amy, brought her wife in to pierce the ears of those who desired so. Amy's wife is so supportive of her husbands lifestyle that she shops with and for her. She dresses her up and whatnot. They love each other. And their love is, unfortunately, rare. Amy's wife is not photographed because that would "out" Amy.
The astonishing thing here is that no matter how they present as women, the change over is astonishing. Sure you might notice differences between women born women and a few of these ladies but the minute they come out of the bathroom changed back to their male persona, minutes pass before I can figure out who just left the building. One of the most important aspects of this series is not photographing the ladies between genders. That theme is so overdone these days but more importantly, I don't see them as men and neither will the public. The livelihood and honesty that bursts from their experiences as women is nothing to be muddied with by their inevitable change of clothing.
Many of my photographs feature a woman named Ashley. I am growing close to her as the project continues as she is most comfortable and very experienced in front of a lens. When I first met her I was confused as to what her situation was. I was sure she was a transitioned male to female. As it turns out, she started dressing only 6 years ago and is not on hormones. As none of these women are 24/7, Ashley would be if she had hair. She only doesn't dress at home because of the wig discomfort. She is absolutely one of the most elegant and graceful women I've ever encountered, dresser or not. The way she maneuvers around a room and through doorways is something to be admired. She's like a Hepburn, really. Either one. Take your pick. Her humor is perfectly timed and her experience is admirable. When this series was shown to a graduate school board, she was mistaken for Nancy Reagan. A classic New York woman, she is, and I have started to spend time with her outside of the gathering place as I hope to do with some of the others.
I will leave you with this snippet of a story:
On a certain Wednesday night, a first-timer joined us in her best efforts. Her clothing was droopy, makeup inexperienced, and her wig was jet black and tangled like one sold at a costume shop. She was as sweet as pie and a little on the quiet side. I would be too as these gals are intimidating at first. She sat on the arm of the sofa and watched as her peers blew innuendos and caddy jokes at each other. Little by little she got involved in the goings-ons. What I will never forget was when some of the other ladies started to give her tips on presenting as a woman. They were delicate with her. The nest of tangled jet black straw became less and less drastic as one of the women began to brush it for her. Then another joined in the styling. The new girl sat on her arm of the sofa as two of her elders did what they could with a comb and brush. Like big sisters to their younger sibling or even a mother to daughter... "Next time DON'T get jet black. [says another as the combers shake their heads.] Look at your eyebrows....go with auburn. Jet black is always a no-no."
The newcomer agreed and blushed with appreciation. There was barely an age difference between her and her "elders" even though this was her first time physically acknowledging her femme identity. As I witnessed this rite of passage I couldn't help but think the amount of relief this newcomer was feeling after a lifetime of being closeted. That age is not a formula for experience and a mother's instinct need not be reserved for mothers.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Wilkomen!
I have decided, out of inspiration from another blog, sheer boredom plus! the realization that valuable information and experiences are not being remembered on a certain topic, to create a written documentation on an ongoing photography series titled, Women et Homme. And what better place to do it than the oh so public venue....the internet?!
Strangely, for a photographer, I am intimidated by the publicity that this day in age encourages. That is, regarding the recurring theme of my projects. (However, it's this publicity that does a little ignorance fighting and a lil' bit of honesty exposing.) Sex and gender is something that everyone, regardless of their identity, deals with everyday. And it is sex and gender that never fails to create a daily ping of discomfort and confusion. For everyone. I don't care who you think you are. It happens, whether you know it or not. So take my word for it. Moving on...
Women et Homme
I stumbled across the Crossdressers International house while pursuing a location for a different series. Just a glance materialized into hours of schmoozing and laughing. I had come across the image of New York I had only heard stories of. Months later, I returned with my camera, not to make observations but to form visual and verbal relationships.
These women born men have no interest in operations and hormones though this doesn’t mute their enthusiasm in identity. From dinners within the confines of this small, Midtown garden apartment to events in restaurants and excursions to their favorite tavern, these seemingly unordinary people find their place as ordinary women. This project is not laced with boas and is not meant to exploit their identity like so many documentations of gender performance are. The seemingly average lifestyle of these women is what most interests me. What the general public fails to recognize is the difference between crossdressing and drag. Crossdressers perform gender as a way to live out the female side born into them and sometimes to fulfill sexual desires. Crossdressing is mostly kept behind closed doors whereas someone in drag performs gender for entertainment or political purposes.
These women’s stories are littered with wives and partners, children and professions. Some come from supportive backgrounds and some remain secretive. As we all bring personal experiences in relating to our peers, we can only bring truth to what we understand. As a photographer, honesty is my responsibility.
-Evan Schwartz
Strangely, for a photographer, I am intimidated by the publicity that this day in age encourages. That is, regarding the recurring theme of my projects. (However, it's this publicity that does a little ignorance fighting and a lil' bit of honesty exposing.) Sex and gender is something that everyone, regardless of their identity, deals with everyday. And it is sex and gender that never fails to create a daily ping of discomfort and confusion. For everyone. I don't care who you think you are. It happens, whether you know it or not. So take my word for it. Moving on...
Women et Homme
I stumbled across the Crossdressers International house while pursuing a location for a different series. Just a glance materialized into hours of schmoozing and laughing. I had come across the image of New York I had only heard stories of. Months later, I returned with my camera, not to make observations but to form visual and verbal relationships.
These women born men have no interest in operations and hormones though this doesn’t mute their enthusiasm in identity. From dinners within the confines of this small, Midtown garden apartment to events in restaurants and excursions to their favorite tavern, these seemingly unordinary people find their place as ordinary women. This project is not laced with boas and is not meant to exploit their identity like so many documentations of gender performance are. The seemingly average lifestyle of these women is what most interests me. What the general public fails to recognize is the difference between crossdressing and drag. Crossdressers perform gender as a way to live out the female side born into them and sometimes to fulfill sexual desires. Crossdressing is mostly kept behind closed doors whereas someone in drag performs gender for entertainment or political purposes.
These women’s stories are littered with wives and partners, children and professions. Some come from supportive backgrounds and some remain secretive. As we all bring personal experiences in relating to our peers, we can only bring truth to what we understand. As a photographer, honesty is my responsibility.
-Evan Schwartz
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