By Betty Meng Li
Nov. 7, 2010
It was a beautifully sunny day in early October. Although the slightly chilly breezes served as a reminder that fall was already here, summer lingered in Central Park. There, the sun was still warm, leaves still green, and people were still taking their time jogging, strolling or rowing boats. Walking along the picturesque paths in Central Park in that adorable weather made me look forward even more to what I was going to do.
I was going to model for my friend and photographer Gabriel Diaz. And there he was, waiting already at the Angels-in-America fountain, equipped with his photography set. To be honest, having originally teased him into doing this for my birthday, I did not expect him to actually photograph me. But Gabe had put a lot of thought into how we could make the most out of this modeling session. We had spoken at length about what kind of clothes I should wear for the day. He had sent me on a mission to purchase a bubble gun for modeling purposes, and he himself had managed to obtain a surgical mask, which he also intended to incorporate in the photos. In addition, he had arrived at the Central Park much earlier than I did that day to find a spot and do a few background shots, as he had told me. It seemed pretty clear that Gabe did not get a SLR just for fun.
Shortly after we met, Gabe took me to the spot where he would photograph me. It was an elegant stone bridge with floral designs on its sides. Although it was a new part of Central Park to me, Gabe told me that the bridge was a coveted spot for photographers. Looking around, it was indeed a bustling place for both pedestrians walking above the bridge as well as for rowers who crossed back and forth beneath it. Modeling in that situation, as you might imagine, attracted a lot of attention – all friendly though, and that felt pretty cool.
What Gabe had in mind was to photograph me in different poses and spots, and then place all of “me” together in one photo. With that goal in mind, he fixed his camera on the stand and placed it firmly at one spot, so that he could try to shoot all the pictures with the same viewing angle. In addition, he was very particular about where I would pose and about the relationship between one pose and the next. “Betty,” he told me, “now try to imagine yourself looking into the other ‘Betty’ who was just standing there.” I tried my best to cooperate, and to improvise. Gabe was always honest and straight-forward with his opinions. Sometimes he would favor my improvisation and be very supportive of it, “I love how you squatted just now – let’s do that again.” At other times he would offer an alternative, and he would say, “hmm… I’m not sure that the sunglasses are that great an idea, because they cover a big part of your face that I would rather see on the photo. How about you take them off for now?”
We often found ourselves proposing and negotiating ideas like that. Although my ideas developed themselves mostly on the spur of the moment, Gabe often took them over and gave them a coat of professionalism. There was one “professional” suggestion that Gabe made and that I did not take: sitting on the railing of the bridge. “Sorry Gabe, but I just don’t want to sit on my silk dress …” I said with a shrug. “Ah well,” said Gabe, “it’s okay. Let’s do something else then.”
In addition to asking me to be conscious of my multiple poses and positions, Gabe had a reason for advising me to purchase the bubbles. Although I considered blowing bubbles and modeling at the same time primarily a fun thing to do, bubbles served functional purposes for my photographer. According to Gabe, bubbles filled up the distance between one Betty and the next, and thus could better connect the different Bettys and present a more vivid story. On the other hand, Gabe seemed to like how the action of blowing bubbles brought out many different, interesting facial expressions. “Look that those pursing lips,” he burst out, “they look great.” He encouraged me to blow as big and many bubbles as possible, and was eager to capture them reflecting bright sunlight. People who were passing by often looked at my bubbles with abundant curiosity; and it was pretty sweet to see children get easily excited, then jump and run around to chase the bubbles.
The other facilitator to our modeling session, the surgical mask, attracted many curious looks too. It is worth noting that by the time I wore the surgical mask, I had also changed into a long white sweater dress.
Gabe had “approved” my choice of that sweater because it would not only go along with the white surgical mask, but would also match the dimmer light cast by the setting sun. He said that he had been interested for a while to work on a composite photo where brighter and darker lights exist side by side. White color, in his opinion, is perfect for a darker background.
I think the white sweater indeed looked great for the last series of photos we took, and we took them in time just before the sun hid its face behind the apartment buildings on the Central Park West. The only thing I didn’t like about the sunset hours, however, were the mosquitoes bites that just bloomed throughout my legs, and they itched as they surely would. Luckily, I was too occupied to scratch them. I was busy imagining what final product Gabe would “recreate” with his computer using the photos that he had created with his camera. In fact, I was lucky to witness that recreation in photoshop take place – before the computer crashed to be precise, but it was still a very interesting and inspiring process. I hope to share that experience soon on this blog too.
What Gabe had in mind was to photograph me in different poses and spots, and then place all of “me” together in one photo. With that goal in mind, he fixed his camera on the stand and placed it firmly at one spot, so that he could try to shoot all the pictures with the same viewing angle. In addition, he was very particular about where I would pose and about the relationship between one pose and the next. “Betty,” he told me, “now try to imagine yourself looking into the other ‘Betty’ who was just standing there.” I tried my best to cooperate, and to improvise. Gabe was always honest and straight-forward with his opinions. Sometimes he would favor my improvisation and be very supportive of it, “I love how you squatted just now – let’s do that again.” At other times he would offer an alternative, and he would say, “hmm… I’m not sure that the sunglasses are that great an idea, because they cover a big part of your face that I would rather see on the photo. How about you take them off for now?” 
We often found ourselves proposing and negotiating ideas like that. Although my ideas developed themselves mostly on the spur of the moment, Gabe often took them over and gave them a coat of professionalism. There was one “professional” suggestion that Gabe made and that I did not take: sitting on the railing of the bridge. “Sorry Gabe, but I just don’t want to sit on my silk dress …” I said with a shrug. “Ah well,” said Gabe, “it’s okay. Let’s do something else then.” 
Gabe had “approved” my choice of that sweater because it would not only go along with the white surgical mask, but would also match the dimmer light cast by the setting sun. He said that he had been interested for a while to work on a composite photo where brighter and darker lights exist side by side. White color, in his opinion, is perfect for a darker background. 
