(( So. Here is my story from the lounge. - I've fleshed it out a little bit for the forum and corrected a couple of typos
I've added it as a new topic as adding it to the lounge thread might break the continuity of the story. It actually came just before Conlans' tale
.. enjoy .))
I was on a shoot last week in Manhattan, in a place called the Wolcott Hotel. A throwback to an older and more opulent city.
I meet the photographer in the lobby, which is where we're going to be shooting.
He takes some shots. I think we get some good stuff and I'm feeling pretty good about the shoot so far .. I might be a small cog in the Templar machine, but here I am queen.. I can still work it. Athough truth be told. I can pretty much do this stuff on autopilot now.
Then he does something really weird. Weird even for a fashion photographer.
He only proceeds to rip open his camera, yank out the film, drop it in an ashcan conveniently located just outside the lobby and promptly set it on fire.
or course I'm kind of taken back by this and ask him what gives? ..was I not giving him what he was asking for? I'm pretty sure I was following his directions.
he looks at me and says
"oh.. you dont know the story about this hotel?"
I reply that I don't
He then proceeds to tell me this story
In the twenties, then as now, the hotel was used a lot for pictures. it's classic New York glamor
There was an up and coming photographer, the talk of the city. he took pictures of the rich and famous. His pictutes were highly sought after and appeared on the front pages of all the magazines of the time.
The story goes that he was there taking some shots and took some initial pictures. he had a set up a makeshift darkroom so that he could quickly develop test pictures
So after his first couple of rolls, he says to the people in the room "I'll be right back..i just want to see what these came out like."
After an hour up in his room the people got concerned and the hotel staff had to break down the door to his room.
They found him hanging in the bathroom his face was contorted with fear. Whether this was due to the hanging or not was a matter of debate among those who had the misfortune to lay eyes on this gruesome scene.
Newly developed pictures and the negatives presumably from the first roll of film were burnt in the trashcan - whatever they had captured forever destroyed
His second roll was still in his camera. It was with great trepidation that this was developed – but it was found to contain nothing untoward. Whatever he'd had the misfortune to photograph was only on the first set of film.
And that is why every photographer who takes pictures in this lobby, always destroys their first roll of film.
-o-
I cannot vouch for the truthfulness of this tale. A lot of photographers can be prone to theatrics and also love nothing more than scaring pretty girls .. they seem to get a kick out of it.
If that was indeed his intention, then I think he was somewhat disappointed that it did not scare me as much as he had hoped.
After all, this kind of thing was very normal to me now.
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