"Bring Your Friend to Work" Day

Yesterday was "Bring Your Friend to Work" day. Well, not really. But my friend, Jude, a professional photographer, asked if I wanted to assist a shoot to which he was assigned and I jumped at the chance to see "how it all goes down."

And before you envision Kate Moss, Yves Saint Laurent and moody, arty types all dressed in black, please first envision a stationery company, a bright, sprawling office in mid-town Manhattan, my friend Jude... and yours truly, a middle-aged dentist with a fierce passion for photography.

The view from the CEO's window.

At 10 o'clock on a steamy summer morning, I met Jude on West 44th Street. We got on line (and not the type where I am Googling Ryan Lochte) for the freight elevator behind the UPS guy who, like Jude, had a hand truck piled really high with stuff to haul up to the 14th floor. How much gear does a photographer need, anyway?

Well, a lot it seems.  For all you pro togs and camera enthusiasts out there, you'll be interested to know he had not only a Canon 7D, but also a 5D, the f/2.8L 20-74mm AND the f/2.8L 80-200mm, myriad umbrellas/strobes, cobblestone-sized generators (I think), cables like crazy, mountable flashes that bounce off walls and such, and filters galore.

The shoot was for the CEO of a popular card company, to be used in an alumnae magazine. Evidently, this industry magnate was a successful alum... and I believed it! Beautiful stationery filled every last crevice of this 40,000 sq. ft. office space... on Fifth Avenue. That is a whole lot of note cards just to make rent.

The weirdest thing was hearing the CEO's introduction of me to his staff, "... and this is Gracelyn, his assistant."  Not Dr. Santos. Not Mrs. Mroczek. I was the help. And I loved it. I loved seeing my friend, a REAL photographer, in action.

I delighted in that I was somewhat anonymous, in charge of plugging things in, opening and closing blinds till Jude found the available natural light to his satisfaction, and moving stuff around. I commandeered the assortment of stuff on the shelves behind the CEO's head. Is there a by line for that? No matter. I took pride in it.

My other main task was engaging the CEO in conversation (easy) and coming up with some witty remarks to make him smile so his expressions woud look believable and natural (not so easy). Jude said I "done good" when he reviewed the shots he made after each set-up.

After two hours and goody bags of stationery for my three daughters and his one, given to us as parting gifts, we packed up Jude's gear and re-entered the concrete jungle. We picked up some hot dogs and Dasani. He gave me a little photography talk on intensity and duration, which I lapped up. I asked him some questions about prime lenses and lighting.

What I did NOT ask him was how preparations were going for his father's memorial service to be held in two days. Jude's dad, a well-loved scientist and teacher, had passed away two weeks ago in his sleep after a long illness. He was 91. Jude had been busy working on his heartfelt photographic tribute and a description of his incredible life.  "Anyone can sound interesting if you compress a lifetime into a few paragraphs, Gracelyn," he had remarked.

I begged to differ. Jude was just being modest. I knew that. Besides, it was already clear to me that his Dad had raised a wonderful human being with a keen eye for composition, a dry, quick wit, and a penchant for detail and beauty. Above all, I believe his dad taught him kindness to help people learn from his passions, like me.  And for that I was grateful.

Random New Yorker, West 44th Street, Manhattan

St. Elizabeth Chapel, Battery Park, Manhattan