On 24/7/05, Jostein, discombobulated, unleashed: >What's interesting, though, is that you call this "snaps". In my >opinion (well stated by DagT), the observational and predictional (on >a short timescale) excercise separates it from snapshots by as much as >a huge chasm. Possibly the one on Iceland with the light ray across. >:-)
I take your point. For myself, I tend to agree that a snap is a 'grab', a quick and simple photograph, on the spur of the moment. Still a photograph though, and like any art IMO it will be viewed completely on its own merits. Not for the viewer to know if it was a grab or the result of hours of painstaking work culminating in an exposure of a fraction of a second. There seem to be several definitions of 'snap'. >From dictionary.com: (as a verb) "....to take (a photograph)." and "To photograph...." or this definition from the Pocket Oxford Dictionary (Fifth ed, 1969-1976): "Snapshot (n) - shot fired without time for deliberate aim, taking of photograph especially with hand camera working instantaneously or picture so got...." I'm sure there are many other definitions that parallel these. I like the word 'snap' because as well as the above, to me it engenders a whole era of photography in 1960s London where a whole new breed of snapper, I mean photographer erupted onto the music and celebrity scene. The whole pretentiousness of this blow-wave corduroy set is brilliantly mocked by this extract from Tony Hancock's 'Hancock's Half Hour' extract. Tony (a C-list celeb) is taken by his agent (Sydney James) to get some new publicity photos by society luvvie Hilary St. Clair (Kenneth Williams)... Syd: Hello Hilary. Hilary: No! Sydney, dear boy! It's such a long time since you've been around to see me, you're a naughty boy! Syd: Yeah. Well, I'm sorry Hilary. You know how it is. Lot's of work - Hilary: I know how terribly tedious it has been. I know I'm the same. Absolutely months since I've seen the Albert Hall. Syd: Yeah, and me. Tony: (to Syd) He's talking about music, not all-in wrestling. Syd: Yeah, well. Look Hilary, I've got a customer here for you. Hilary: (eyeing Hancock) Rather perculiar friends you have Sydney. Most quaint. Syd: Yeah, well, don't start a punch-up Hilary. I want you to take some snaps. Hilary: Snaps, Sydney?? I don't take snaps! I paint with light! Tony: (mocking in a high-pitched voice) Oh swipe me, he paints with light! (pause - aside to Syd, mocking) Paints with light! Hilary: I don't think I like your friend Sydney. I wish I hadn't snapped, I mean photographed him. I think I should open the camera and let the light in! Syd: Now calm down Hilary. All we want is a set of publicity photos. I want you to get the best out of him. :-) That's the end of this post, but if you liked that extract, there now follows the entire episode, either read at your leisure, or off you go to another post :-) Cheers, Cotty ___/\__ || (O) | People, Places, Pastiche ||=====| http://www.cottysnaps.com _____________________________ ------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------- The Publicity Photograph by Alan Simpson and Ray Galton transcribed from the long play record Pieces of Hancock (NPL18054) Scenes: 1. A London street. 2. Photographic studio. 3. Mr Hancock's house. Cast: Tony Hancock......minor celebrity Sydney James.....his agent. Kenneth Williams.....Photographer to the stars, Hilary St. Clair In Hancock's house.....Hattie Jaques and Bill Kerr [A London street, day. Tony and Syd are walking to a studio to have some new photos shot for Tony's publicity, something the irritable Mr. Hancock is not entirely happy with...] Tony: So you really think my old fan-photos have been holding me back, Syd? Syd: 'Course they have. I've been telling you that your years. And I'm a good agent, but even I've had trouble getting you work. All because of those photographs. That 'Valentino' one: diabolical, it is. Tony: My 'sheik' pose? It's my favourite! Syd: Yeah. When I started showing it around, they thought I was collecting money for Arab refugees. Tony: You sure the place we're going to is alright? Syd: Alright?? This geyser is the best theatrical photographer in London! I send all my clients to him. He charges fifty knicker a sitting. Tony: Fifty pounds for one photograph?? I want it in postcard size, not Cinerama! Fifty pounds! I made my last film for less than that! Syd: Well it's worth every penny. This boy is fabulous. He does beautiful retouch-jobs. He'll make you look like a million dollars! He'll take them wrinkles out, get rid of the crow's feet under your eyes, pin your ears back, cover up some of that loose stuff around your neck, straighten the nose out a bit, put the eyes further apart - Tony: What an attractive picture you'd paint of me. I'm having no retouching done on my photographs. I face the world as I am. Syd: Well, we'll see what he says anyway. He might have some ideas when he sees you. He's never been defeated yet. This is it: 'Hilary St. Clair'. Tony: Oh my word. I'll bet he's all corduroys and blow-waves. Syd: Shaddup - get inside! (They step into Mr. St. Clair's studio) Hilary: No no no! Don't move! Now stay just where you are...the light catches you perfectly! Tony: Who? Me? Hilary: Oh! A fusion of shere heaven! Don't move! I must take you a shere poetry of line and composition! Tony: Get away. Hilary: Just tilt the head so the sunlight dances on your hair. Tony: (mocking) Oh you mean like this? Hilary: Yes! Yes! I shall call it 'In Juxtaposition'. Tony: (still mocking) No no no no. What about: 'Textures'. Hilary: Yes! Yes! That's even better! Tony: (to Syd) I'm getting out of here. Hilary: (taking a shot) I've got it! Thank you so much. That's going to be very very sheesh. If that doesn't get First Prize at this year's 'Salon', I shall be quite overcome. Now, what can I do for you? Syd: Hello Hilary. Hilary: No! Sydney, dear boy! It's such a long time since you've been around to see me, you're a naughty boy! Syd: Yeah. Well, I'm sorry Hilary. You know how it is. Lot's of work - Hilary: I know how terribly tedious it has been. I know I'm the same. Absolutely months since I've seen the Albert Hall. Syd: Yeah, and me. Tony: (to Syd) He's talking about music, not all-in wrestling. Syd: Yeah, well. Look Hilary, I've got a customer here for you. Hilary: (eyeing Hancock) Rather perculiar friends you have Sydney. Most quaint. Syd: Yeah, well, don't start a punch-up Hilary. I want you to take some snaps. Hilary: Snaps, Sydney?? I don't take snaps! I paint with light! Tony: (mocking in a high-pitched voice) Oh swipe me, he paints with light! (pause - aside to Syd, mocking) Paints with light! Hilary: I don't think I like your friend Sydney. I wish I hadn't snapped, I mean photographed him. I think I should open the camera and let the light in! Syd: Now calm down Hilary. All we want is a set of publicity photos. I want you to get the best out of him. Hilary: Oh, let's have a look then. (to Hancock) I say, you. Stand under my arc lights. Hmm. Turn around. Ugh! Heavens. I'm going to have to use a lot of shadow. There's sort of a lot to hide, isn't there! Tony: I will slosh him Syd. So help me, I will slosh him. One more remark and I'll wrap that enlarger around his neck! Haven't been insulted like this since I went to the Turkish baths. Syd: Alright Hilary, take no notice. Just do the best you can, boy. Hilary: Oh, let's see now. (to Hancock) Undo your shirt to the waist. Tony: Oh dear. Hilary: Oh. Oh what a pity, no hairs on the chest. Never mind, I can scratch some in on the negative. Tony: You are not scratching any hairs in on my negative. I'm not the hairy type. I'm more the smooth-skin 'Lex Barker' type. Syd: If Hilary says you're gonna have hairs, you're gonna have hairs! He knows what's best. Hilary: I say. What sort of legs have you got? Tony: Don't you think you're going a bit too far, my man? My legs are *my* business! Syd: Shaddup Hancock. Hilary must have a good reason for asking. Hilary: Well yes. I thought perhaps a beach-combing outfit might look rather attractive. Syd: You see that Hancock? A beach-comber. A wondering nomad. A scavanger. He's got your character already! Hilary: I know, a straw hat, the shirt open to the waist and tied in a knot, trousers cut, very raggedly, just below the knees, standing barefoot in the sand, palm trees waving in the background... Tony: I know. Looking inside oysters for bars of coconut chocolate. No thank you! Syd: He's right, Hancock. He's right. It's very 'you'. Hilary: Oh yes. It's the only one. He'll look delicious! Rip his trousers at the knees! Syd: Come here. Tony: No! Syd! Please no! Syd: Come here! (ripping fabric) Tony: No! Syd! Stop it! Syd: There they are. Tony: Well well. So much for me clerical grey drainpipes. I had these especially tailored! This is 24 and 6 off your bill for a start! Hilary: 24 and 6? Tony: Yes, mate! 24 and 6. I don't buy rubbish you know! Hilary: Aren't your legs white! (more ripping sounds) Tony: One pair of long underwear. 12 and 6. Hilary: Yah. Well, that's better. So those are your legs? Tony: Yes, *these* are my legs. If you don't take that smirk off your face, you'll be on the end of one of them in a minute. Hilary: Well, let's face it. They are rather odd, aren't they! Tony: What's odd about them? I've got one on this side and one on that side, haven't I? What more do you want? Hilary: No, I'm sorry, I don't think the legs ought to be in. Tony: Pardon? After slashing my trousers about? How dare you! My legs are out, I'm out. Syd: Aw, you better keep the legs in, Hilary. Have him standing in water up to his knees. That'll do it. Hilary: Up to his straw hat I think would be better. It's going to be very difficult, Sydney. I don't think there are three inches of him in proportion. Syd: Aw, surely you can do something with him, boy? Look me old boy, this is very important, son. Hilary: Alright, I'll do it for you, Sydney. (short pause during which Hilary trips the shutter) Right. I've taken it. Tony: I haven't posed yet! Hilary: It doesn't matter. All the hard work's to come now with the things I've got to do to this negative. I'll be up all night. Syd: Right you are. Come on, Hancock. Let's leave him alone to get on with it. Tony: You call a taxi. I refuse to walk through the streets of London with me legs poking out. Hilary: I'll send the prints around tomorrow. Tony: That's very quick! Hilary: Well I don't want them in here any longer than I can help it. Syd: Well, ta ta Hilary, thanks a lot. I'll send you a cheque tomorrow. (to Hancock) Say ta ta to Hilary. Tony: No. Syd: Say ta ta to Hilary. Tony: No. I don't like him. he said rotten things about my legs. Come Sydney, we were away. (Sydney and Tony exit, short pause, door opens again) Tony: Can I have my shoes and socks please. [The next day at Tony Hancock's office] Hattie: Mr. Hancock, they've arrived! Tony: What have? Hattie: Your new photographs! (opens envelope, examines photos) Oh! What a difference! They're beautiful! Oh! Wallaby Jim of the island! Tony: Show me! Oh dear, oh dear. My goodness, is this me? Yes, of course it. I recognise the shirt. he's done a good job, I'll give him that. This is the most handsome and fascinating man I've ever seen! Hattie: Remarkable what he has done! It's only because your name's on the bottom that I realised it was you! Bill: But what's he done to your ears? Why aren't they sticking out? Tony: They don't stick out that much, anyway. Bill: They do when there's a wind behind you. Tony: Only a strong wind. Hattie: Well, I think it's lovely. All the women will fall for you when they see it. That big chest. The slim waist. The fine, sturdy, muscular legs. That noble face. That *wonderful* hair on your chest. Oh! It's the sort of man I've been dreaming about for *years*. Tony: (to Bill) Hello, we shall have to watch her. Put a drop of bromide in her tea. Bill: Pop, what's he done with the wrinkles? Tony: Why don't you shut up and just accept what's in the photograph? Bill: I can't. You haven't got a big chest and a slim waist. You've got a slim chest and a big waist. Tony: Alright, so he's moved it up a bit. That's photographic license. Bill: Yeah, but how's he doing it? Tony: How should I know how he did it? Probably cut the negative under me chin and above me legs and turned it upside down. Bill: How did he straighten the nose out? Tony: I don't know how he straightened the nose out, but if you don't watch it, somebody's going to have to do the same thing for you. I think the photo's a very good likeness. I'm particularly impressed with the way he's captured the beauty of my legs. Ha! He didn't think they were photogenic at the time. In fact he was quite nasty about it. But he's done well, they've turned out very smooth. Bill: Do you notice the insides of them are straight? Tony: (looking harder) what about it? Bill: You know what I think? Tony: What? Bill: He's taken one, split it down the middle and moved it over. Tony: He has not! He - (the truth dawning) he has, you know. You're dead right, he has! Look! I've only got two and a half toes on each foot! Still, that doesn't matter. We can always say the rest of them are buried in the sand... ------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------
