The Photo Shoot.


Many people assume that being a graphic designer is quite a glamorous job, especially when I say I'm dashing off to a photo shoot or something. They might imagine me surrounded by champagne-sipping supermodels, rock music blaring in the background whilst a handsomely brooding photographer alternates between taking pictures and shagging everything that moves. I too would like to imagine that scenario, but believe me, the reality of my job is anything but glamorous. I do not art direct humans or anything vaguely alive. In fact, I make my living shooting very deceased meat and fish fillets under glaring hot lights, the air thick with pungent aromas you would rather not be smelling at 9:30 in the morning, whilst the harassed client 'ums' and 'ahs' in the background, unable to make the simplest decision about which chicken breast is more attractive.

Wait… let's go back a step. Picture yourself in the supermarket, browsing the aisles for something easy to bung in the oven for a hassle-free supper. Of course, you usually cook everything from scratch, buy organic and spend the weekends browsing farmers markets for local produce (of course you do). You also can't wait to get home from a long and hideous day at work to spend the next 4 hours creating a masterpiece of gastronomic delight that maybe only you or your partner are going to eat (of course you do). But sometimes, on very very rare occasions, all you want to do is pour a massive glass of wine and wait for the delightful sound of a ping or buzzzz. That is where I come in. Welcome to the enchanting world of food packaging. 

Now I would love to tell you that I only design the high-end bistro products that adorn the shelves of Waitrose or M&S. The luxury ready meals for two, that cost the same as feeding a family of four from scratch, for a week. The sort of food shown in TV ads, oozing and melting in glorious close-up, while the sexy voiceover describes every ingredient and process in intimate detail, making your mouth water and your eyelids grow heavy with desire… food porn basically! I would be so proud to tell you that is the sort of brand I work on… but again, the reality of how I make my money is not high end food pornography, but more a cheap quickie down a dark alley in Soho. However, even though the brand may not be luxury, the food inside the packet is pretty much the same as it's posh cousin, just with cheaper clothing. And when you are on a photoshoot, the product has celebrity status no matter what box it comes in. It is the star… primped and preened for hours, longer than any actress in hair and makeup, and as with any star, it has an entourage.

Firstly, we have the photographer, the amazing genius photographer who can make a lettuce leaf look sexy from the right angle and with the right lighting; then there's the photographers assistant, who not only has to set up all the equipment, but also has to make delicious coffee and be able to keep up morale when we are shooting the same piece of limp fish for the 30th time. We have the stylist, or rather the magician, who, armed with airbrush, superglue, tweezers, scalpel, paintbrush, food colouring and vaseline, is capable of turning a rather pale, ugly bland piece of protein into a plump, juicy, mouthwatering morsel of manna from heaven. Then there is me, the art director. My job is to stand behind the photographer, the assistant and the stylist saying incredibly important things like, "could you glue another crumb to the right hand side of that bigger crumb" or "the flakes are looking a teensy bit dry, could we spritz it please?". It's very very very demanding! And when everything looks just perfect, the client is beckoned, they say 'yay' or 'nay', and we shoot. 

This process, from the time the product comes out of it's box, to the first click of the shutter, can take anywhere from 2-6 hours. I know, utter madness! But it's all about the preparation you see. The cooking instructions on the back of the box may simply say, 'Pre-heat oven to 200ÂșC. Place fillets on baking tray in the middle of oven for 14 minutes, turning occasionally', but that is not what we actually do. Oh no. We may boil, microwave or deep fry the product to get the look we want. We might not cook it at all but simply thaw it, so it retains its shape. We can garnish and add tasty accompaniments but we do have to use what's in the box, and as one photographer said to me recently, "we can't always polish a turd, but we can roll it in glitter". Lovely. But once all this prep is done, suddenly everything happens at lightning speed. We may have only an hours' window to take all the photographs we need, before the product begins to change... slowly melting and sweating under the intense heat, or drying out completely! Even an airbrush-weilding stylist can't make an hour old, dry flaky piece of cod look appetising!! 


I know what you're thinking... you can't believe it takes 5 people, 8 hours to photograph a bit of fish! You're also probably realising why it never looks like it does on the package, when you cook it at home. Sorry about that. Well next time you're in the supermarket, taking a good look at that delicious-looking food shot on the label or box, remember it's your money that's paying for me to stand around a hot studio, making a fish fillet look that good! Thanks everyone... the next organic, locally sourced, free-range, fresh corn-fed farmers market chicken fillet, is on me!

Comments

Chalk the Sun said…
Funny! You look very different in your photo! Did you get my recent invite? A x