Monica

Something different.  My social circle at the time began to include a - for want of a better term - drag queen - out of drag.  I had seen him perform at local clubs, and I was both fascinated and a little repulsed, at the same time.  It was my first experience with drag, and I was somewhat uneasy with it. 

I wanted to photograph him, but I was hesitant to make the first move.  One night at a dinner party, he started a conversation and asked me if I would consider doing a shoot.  I was delighted, and readily agreed, and we got permission from our host to use his house, as it was rather ornate and lent itself to the kind of images we wanted to do.

I had thought about the shoot a lot, and my intention was not to do a conventional "glamour" shoot, which was what I knew the model wanted, but to "expose" the subterfuge and lay bare the pretense.  In other words, I planned to betray the model and create an "honest" image.  The idea made me uncomfortable.

On the night of the shoot, I arrived with a simple light set-up at our friend's house, and was met at the door by the model, dressed as you see him above.  I had never been "up close and personal" with someone in full drag before, and it was unnerving, to say the least.

I set up the lights and we got to work.  Immediately all my plans went out of the window, and I began to photograph him as I would any woman, adjusting the light for the most flattering shadows, arranging the costume to its best advantage.  The illusion was so strong that I was completely taken in, and any ideas I had of "exposing" the model vanished.

While we were shooting, our host's pathetic little poodle wandered in and sat down on the cape.  Her hairdo perfectly mimicked Monica's, and I shot the photo above.

We shot for three hours, much of it taken up in changing costumes and wigs.  One of the model's specialities was 1940's period dress, so we took a series of that.  The image below is a result.

During this part of the shoot, which took place in the host's bedroom, there was a large chair in the way.  When Monica, who was 6 feet tall in heels, started to move it,  I stepped in and said, "Oh, no, let me get that.  It's heavy."  The illusion was complete.

Looking back on these images today, I see that I did photograph the truth, after all.