For the fall fashion spread in 360 West magazine we were trying to come up with a concept and location to shoot at. Hot weather, warm fall clothes, modern styles made for all kinds of bad combinations. During a meeting I mentioned a post modern house that I had passed numerous times on bike rides. It had a Frank Lloyd Wright feel, tucked in the woods away from a quiet street. Empty, it had recently been listed with a real estate firm so it was at least possible.
After some more discussion it was decided that it would be perfect. Propped with some modern furniture in a sparse way it would give a gorgeous background to make the cloths stand out. It really had some potential to look different.
Some last minute scheduling problems meant I had no idea about the model or her look. She shows up with a really short haircut, gorgeous alabaster skin and really dark accents. Really dramatic stuff that lent itself perfectly to the environment we had chosen.
As we got busy, the pics were looking great. The classic Alfa Romeo under the carport looked perfect. All along we were amazed at how different the environment felt, especially in the middle of a city in Texas. It could have been the hills of northern California or suburbs of Illinois, woods of Vermont even but not here. Asking about the history of the house, a neighbor mentions that she took art classes from the former owner in her studio. A gorgeous added section with a wall of windows looking on the trees all around.
When she mentioned her name a chill rose up my spin. Helen Sylvestri, the first art teacher my brother and I ever had. She was a fixture in the art community. With an eye for seeing artistic talent in the very young and the ability to draw it out and help it flourish. She became a mentor to us both.
Though my brother passed long ago, and I stopped using a brush and pencil for a much more mechanical device. The vision and senseof compositoon that she taught still comes out in my work everyday. As I looked at the images during editing, the similarities between our model and a younger Helen was uncanny. It was just a reincarnation of her style and glamour.
I had known that she had passed a few years ago, but seeing those images brought memories of her rushing back. The last time I saw her we had passed at a local store and spoke for a brief moment. I failed to tell her that I really appreciated all that she did for me. Mrs. Sylvestri, thank you for all you instilled in every one us even if we failed to tell you while you were here. You were one of those teachers that really made a difference.
Posts
