On fame

Earlier this year I had my first few inclusions in the contributors' pages of some of the magazines I work for on and off. I'd never anticipated being excited about this, um, honor, but I did remember always being somewhat fascinated by the types of people who seemed to create and mold the content in the magazines that I read. So cool, so blasé, so different than me... so it seemed. Each short interview that I gave for the little bio they run, pasted under a thumbnail portrait, lasted about 45 seconds and ended up going in some absurd direction which, though vaguely connected, had almost nothing to do with whatever subject I had photographed for the magazine. In my favorite contributors' page interview thus far, in The Fader, the published version ended up basically misquoting me by saying to the effect that "John Loomis hates famous people." It was inaccurate because I didn't actually say that, but not because I love famous people.

For the record, as I don't have feelings strong enough either way use such terms as hate or love, I really just don't get fame. I don't understand the culture of obsession and false love surrounding some of America's stars. I'm fascinated by it and love to try and document it when I can, but I'm completely baffled by its existence on so many levels. In my experience, which is limited to (the girlfriend and I don't have a TV) whatever clients have been silly enough to hire me to photograph some sort of celebrity, "famous" people are often the most boring people in the room. Rappers are some of the worst offenders in my mind. Holy shit, you guys are boring, for realz, dogs.

I got off track here somewhere... and to tie off that loose end above, dear clients, you would certainly not be silly to trust me to photograph celebrities, just don't expect me to create their celebrity if it doesn't already exist through some sort of dynamic use of photography or lighting. I'm not that guy, which of course you already know. Anyway, yeah, famous people... the exception is of course the incredible and incredibly talented people who also happen to be popular or famous. While writing this I've been listening to Gonzalo Rubalcaba, a Cuban jazz pianist who now lives in South Florida, and who I was lucky enough to meet and photograph recently (though not lucky enough to make an interesting portrait of through a lack of time and his exceptional shyness). Meeting and getting to spend a little bit of time with artists and musicians who are filled with passion is one the best parts of my job. (I'd really, really, really like someone to hire me to spend a week photographing actor/writer/historian/magician Ricky Jay at some point. Huh? Ricky who? I promise, you've seen and heard him, you just don't know how amazing he is).

The Fader intern, from the first paragraph, had actually asked me the generic "what was your favorite assignment?" sort of question, which is what led us down the whole hating celebrity path. I probably answered, "well, I'm not sure, but I really just like meeting real people and learning about their stories." And that's the thing of it. Real people are so much more interesting to me, both because they are usually more interesting often than our beloved celebrities, and that the digging into who they are and what is important to them is often such an exciting and surprising journey that enlarges my view of myself and the world. (I'm reminded of the monologue in Adaptation where Chris Cooper's character is describing the relationship between each orchid and the insect that pollinates it and that their dance in effect teaches us how to live). Because they are "real," and I consider myself in that category, and because they have given me the privilege of entering into their life and sharing of their passion, everyday/normal people (which I'm trying to use in the best way possible) are by far my favorite to photograph. And in photographing them I can give myself the best possibility of sharing something and connecting; something that is already too rare in life.

This is a portrait of Jerry Beam, one of the real and amazing people I've met recently, on my botched assignment in Orlando for Newsweek to photograph the city's new law against feeding its homeless population. Jerry has been living in Orlando for about 9 months since his truck broke down on his trip South from Columbia, SC, with his girl, Cheryl, below middle. They've recently been living under an overpass of US-408 near downtown with several dozen others, but its been getting bad out there with a bunch of young punks trying to hurt some of the older members of the community (they killed an elderly homeless man earlier this year). Jerry has been trying to get work and move Cheryl into one of the shelters for women, but spaces are very tight and the men's side of the shelter is more dangerous than living on the streets themselves. They, and homeless people all over the nation, depend on the efforts and charity of churches and community groups to give them a hot meal and a bit more time to get their lives back.

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