by Scott Montgomery on May 28, 2019
I have one extra day built into the end of my schedule in a town I don’t know well. I don’t have the time to spin up a crew and frankly don’t want to. No crew, clients, layouts… just me and a camera. I looked at talent online a week before to see if someone sticks out, that’s interesting, that I can build a story around. Ed. Once I saw him I knew the story. My parents had struggled financially. I watched my father take jobs he didn’t care for because he had to make a check. Choosing photography was my rebellious promise to myself that I wouldn’t be him.
I asked Ed to meet me and come with a few business suit options. I borrowed a briefcase. The only pre-visualized shot in my head was I wanted a diner of some sort: I knew it would have big window light.
We set out him driving and me looking. Stop!! go around the block! Our first shots were at an older apartment building: red brick with bare ivy gripping the walls — I’ve always been fascinated with ivy covered walls. Ed’s a little confused and gives me a range of expressions — smiles, some over the top. I pull him down. I show him a few of the images and it clicks in for him. Ed’s an actor and as such he gives into the character and what I was going for as his director. The rest of the day he’s in Ed mode. He knows an old interesting building we can get into. He knows a diner we plan for our lunch break. Ed honestly orders string beans and a coffee with a side chocolate shake. Sometimes the gods shine on you: I would never have come up with that.
All images and video above ©2019 Scott Montgomery. All rights reserved.
I’m a dad to two daughters, second rodeo husband, have really solid kitchen skills and will try to play with your dog (we travel far too much now to have our own). I can talk to nearly anybody. I need coffee in the morning. I expect to share a bite of what you’re eating: food is communal.
I love to capture relationships. The messy, scratched up, dream filled mile markers which drive us crazy and feed our soul. My work is about those people, those memories.