Portraits of the unexpected

The bedroom is suddenly filled with the soft, relaxing sound of flowing water and leaves shaken by a gentle breeze. The blinds at the windows start to allow some light inside and the warm rays of the rising sun hit my face.

As I slowly open my eyes, a familiar voice announces that this new day will be a productive one.

I stretch my still asleep muscles for a moment and then decide it’s time to get up.

While I get my clothes on, I ask the voice to remind me of the appointments for the morning and she enthusiastically replies I need to meet Aileen for a photoshoot.

A beep from the kitchen tells me the milk is ready for my breakfast. I reach the table in the middle of the room and tell Gwen (this the name of the voice) to open the air screen and show me the latest news.

My morning routine is slow. The world is frenetic enough and, at least when I’m at home, I want to give myself the time to do what I have to do without any stress.

After breakfast, I feel a lot more energised, I start putting my thoughts together and get into the things I have to do.

“Gwen, show me Aileen’s social accounts, please”.

“I’m sorry, Teo, I cannot find anything about Aileen”.

That’s really weird. I think she’s the first person I know who’s invisible to the net. And Gwen is capable of finding everything out there.

This suddenly reminded me how strangely that commission started.

A couple of weeks ago I received an email from a young woman inquiring about my availability for a set.

I asked her what kind of images she needed and what the purpose was.

“I want to walk the street and feel like I were alive”.

Her reply left me a little perplexed, however, I thought it was a good chance to create some street portraits, which I haven’t done in a long time.

I didn’t talk to her any further in the following days, and now I’m wondering who this mysterious girl could be.

But whatever, I’ll find it out pretty soon.

“Ok, Gwen, thanks. Can you play me some music and show me the photoshoot checklist in the studio”.

The studio is a 6 meters long by 5 meters wide room, which can be accessed from both outside and inside my apartment. I love this because it allows me to welcome strangers without having them enter my house. And at the same time, I can easily access it whenever I have to edit or do some tests.

My gear is stored in a small cabinet in a corner right in front of the door that opens to the house.

Beside the cabinet, I can now see the air screen with the list of stuff I have to take with me for the shoot.

I quickly scroll the list while I put all the needed in my bag.

I love plans. And I love to have things organised. It’s something that comes from my long-time IT career.

“Teo, it’s about time for you to leave, or you will be late”.

“Thanks, Gwen. I’m moving. Please open the garage and start the car”.

I close the bag and put it on my shoulders, reach the elevator and go downstairs.

Gwen has already anticipated my next request and set the destination and is now just waiting for me to take my seat behind the cockpit.

“Ok, let’s move” I tell her.

I feel the car leaving the parking inside the garage and I can see the gate open at the end of the path.

The way to the meeting point with Aileen is only a few minutes from my house, and I take the chance to review one more time the mood board I created for this set, to be clear about what I want to achieve from the shooting.

“Gwen, leave the car at that parking lot. I will walk to meet her”.

I reach the pub sign Aileen gave me as an indication of where to meet and lean against the wall waiting for her.

Suddenly, someone pokes me on my shoulder. I turn my head to see who’s calling and everything becomes crystal clear.

“Nice to meet you, Matteo” says a smiling Aileen.

I smile back and shake the hand she gently extends toward me.

She’s aware I’m being silent, still trying to answer a bunch of questions crowding my mind.

“I know, it’s weird. But, why not?” she says.

“Yes, it is. And I’ve never asked myself why this shouldn’t be possible. To be honest, you’re the first one”.

I’m looking at her with a mix of surprise and interest. I can’t help but start firing out my questions.

“I mean, why would a cyborg want to have a portrait session?”

“As I said, why not?” she replies. “Cyborgs are almost humans after all. The sad thing is that most of ‘us’ reject this and see themselves as machines. And, in the long term, they act as if they have no feelings or emotions and they look at themselves as ‘different’.”

“Honestly, I’ve never seen it this way. I see many ‘of you’ every day and I’ve always wondered what their thoughts could be. They always looked cold and emotionless, as you say. And I thought this was sad, however, there might have been a reason. Because there’s always a reason”.

“In most circumstances, we are the result of accidents, either with cars, while doing our work or just because of bad luck. And instead of being thankful for being still alive, the majority see this new existence as a curse and become angry, cold and resentful with the world and with the other people.”

“But you don’t look resentful at all”, I tell her.

“I chose the other way. I want to be alive. Look, my artificial body allows me do to things I couldn’t even imagine when I was completely human. And I don’t want to deny myself the emotions that define my being a woman”.

“That’s a great approach, I have to say. Now, what if we start our session? This doesn’t mean I have no more questions, but maybe we can spend some time together and just talk. I realise I know so little about the world around me…” I suggest, even without noticing I’m sort of asking her for a date…

While talking, the sky has become a little veiled, which makes it the perfect condition for shooting, at least for me. The atmosphere acts as a giant softbox, softening the light and creating beautiful, smooth shadows.

I grab my gear from the bag, check the setup and look around to find some nice spots to shoot. I start guiding her to break the ice and get ourselves in the mood. I have to admit she’s great. It looks like she’s been posing for a long time. She knows exactly how to place her hands, to create movement with her body, to look into the camera or away from the lens.

What I love about urban portraits is you can decide whether to include the location in the shots or to completely blur it out to focus only on the subject. I usually tend to stay mid-way, to give a hint about the place without completely disclosing it.

Usually, I talk a lot about the set with the models I’m shooting with, to guide them and to create the feeling. Portraits are a dance of emotions. The hardest part is to go beyond the eyes of the model, rather than setting up the light or framing the image.

This time, however, I’m more silent than usual. I’m so much more focused on what I’m doing, on the particular beauty of Aileen, on what she said about her existence, and the connection with my tongue is almost cut off.

Images are flowing at a very fast pace, I can hear the click of the shutter as if it were a burst.

From time to time, the sun reaches out from the soft veil of clouds to shine at full power. I don’t want the hard contrast and shadows this implies, so I move around to find shade and still keep the soft, gentle mood I had in mind when I started.

We shot for a couple of hours and I now realise both Aileen and myself are slowly losing focus. It’s time to wrap up and end the set.

I place my neural connector on my left temple and give Aileen the second device so she can do the same. Images are now automatically transferred from the camera to the connector and we can immediately see them to check what we’ve done.

“Did you feel alive?” I end up asking.

“I did. And I’m in love with the images” she replies. “I wish more of us would stop to see ourselves as ‘different’ and that more people would stop talking about cyborgs as just “them and us” and start to have a more inclusive approach. There’s no “different” because we are all different. Each one has a personality and specific traits that distinguish them from each other”.

I put the connectors back in their case and have a last, long look into Aileen’s eyes.

There’s a whole world inside of them.

I shake her hand for more than just a moment, holding each other gaze before we walk away.

Walking back to the parking lot, the last few hours are deep in my thoughts. I’ve learnt a lot from Aileen today. I have locked myself in my home in the last few years, interacting with a vocal assistant, that I almost forgot the complexity of human emotions and personality.

“Was the job good?” asks Gwen when I get in the car.

“More than I expected,” I say, still immersed in Aileen’s eyes.

“I guessed that” flirtatiously says her. “She left you a text already”.

Meet me on Friday’ is the message.

And she left her home address…


Take care and talk soon!