I can admit this one, fine. The imperfection wasn’t some grand artistic intent. It was me moving too fast and forgetting my own plan.
I had gone into the set with a clear idea. Backlight on the cyc, a small softbox up front for the key. I wanted that wide-open look, something a little more intimate-ish, maybe even a touch dreamy (I know) if I got in close.
That was the thought, anyway.
Somewhere early in shooting of this set, that thread slipped. I adjusted, moved, kept working, but lost track of the original intent. What I ended up with sat in an awkward place between f/8 clarity and f/1.8 wispiness. Not truly wide open, not tight either. The result was a kind of incidental blur that didn’t say much. It didn’t pull you in or create rad depth. It just existed there, somewhere between intention and accident, if perhaps more the latter.
In post, I tried to lean into it. Pushed the sharpening harder than I normally would. Let it feel a bit rough, maybe even nostalgic. I had those old ads in mind, imperfect film, lenses that didn’t resolve everything cleanly all the time. There’s a charm in that kind of imperfection when it’s earned, I thought, so I told myself the lie that everything was cool and rolled with it.
This wasn’t quite high art, but it wasn’t nothing either.
What I ended up with feels unfamiliar in a way I don’t entirely mind. It doesn’t sit neatly alongside my other work maybe. It has a different texture, even if it came from a misstep. And sometimes that alone is worth paying attention to.
Briana Noir, as always, carried it with brilliance and [what seems like] extreme ease. The styling, the presence, the way she moves in front of the camera. None of that wavered. If anything, it grounded the set when my technical choices, uh, drifted.
So I look at these and see both sides at once. A mistake, fine ok, thats what it was, clearly. But also something that still found a way to become its own thing. Not fully resolved, not fully intentional, but still alive in its own quiet way.
And I for one love it.
