As far as getting access to stars is concerned, it often makes a big difference that I work with a Polaroid instead of a 35mm camera like all the paparazzi use. Show up at any Hollywood function with a real camera around your neck and you automatically get shuffled to the side behind a rope barrier with all the other "professional" photographers. But whenever I would show up with an invitation and my "amateur" camera, I would automatically be let in as a guest, just like everyone else. Since I clearly wasn't taking pictures for the press with my ridiculous Polaroid, I could snap away, taking candid shots in places where the professionals couldn't even get in. Paul Mazursky was throwing a party at his home in celebration of the opening of an art gallery and I was invited. Living art was to be displayed throughout his backyard. There was to be no press, it was just a private fundraiser for some charity, so it was nice to know that I was officially there as an artist, not a journalist. Naturally I brought my camera. It was a fun exhibit. Art was floating in the pool and a fisherman was there trying his luck. There were lots of celebrities there but I didn't give a damn as soon as I spied Greta Scacchi who entered alone. She hadn't really hit it big in Hollywood yet. Paul had invited her because she was up for a part in one of his films that she obviously didn't get. I mainly knew her from "The Coca-Cola Kid" which was one of my favorite films. Not many actresses can be wacky and sexy at the same time, but Scacchi was one of them. I was in love, or some other word that started with "l." I approached her and told her how much I liked "The Coca-Cola Kid" and she was genuinely flattered that anyone had actually seen it. I couldn't help but wonder how strange it must be for someone's opening line to contain the subtext that I had seen her totally naked in a shower scene I'll never forget.  I got her a drink and we continued chatting, which naturally led to my asking her if I could take her picture. She flashed me a zipper-melting smile and I snapped away, then took out my tool (not that one) and started working on the picture. She was fascinated. I sat on a bench and she sat next to me with her arm around my shoulder, moving in close to see how I worked. Very distracting. She laughed and asked if she could give it a try. I said sure and handed her my camera. She took a shot of me, I handed her my tool (not that one) and showed her how to do what I do. She moved my face around. She was addicted. We wandered the party together taking pictures and distorting the hell out of them. A year later I went to see her new film "The Player." In it she played a Polaroid artist who moved the emulsion around. Coincidence?

 

 

Emulsional Problems