Fashion photography: fusion of art and theater
His intimates whimsically call him ''Frank Schramm III, famous photographer.'' One has even written an appealing rock ditty, ''he's a photographer . . . a famous fashion photographer.'' Famous? well, not to most of us perhaps, but Frank E. Schramm III is one of a handful of big-time fashion photographers - 50 or so very talented people - who, despite brutal competition, have ''made it'' in a glamorous and hugely profitable business.Skip to next paragraph
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Schramm's name may not be familiar to you. But chances are you've seen his work somewhere in the past few years - in Vogue or Harper's Bazaar or in an elaborate color catalog for Macy's, Lord & Taylor, or Bloomingdale's.
Of course, while you may have seen Schramm's work, what you've noticed are tableaux featuring uncommonly comely young women and men often wearing uncommon clothing in sometimes fantastic and sometimes ''real'' settings which, in any case, are never quite believable. Yes, you've seen Frank Schramm's photographic work, but, paradoxically, you probably haven't really looked at his photographs.
And that, says Schramm, is as it should be. A fashion photograph, he explains , must be attention-getting without calling attention to itself. Whatever else it does, a fashion photograph is intended to persuade you to buy something - clothing, cosmetics, diamonds, even fast cars. And almost always, it is intended to persuade you that the fantasy world depicted is somehow connected with your own world. If the photo is of a $4,000 Bill Blass frock, the real objective is to get you to buy the $250 copy that will be forthcoming in a month or two. If the product is cosmetics, the goal is to suggest that you too can be as beautiful, in your own way, as Catherine Deneuve or Isabella Rossellini. And who's to say it's not so?
To be an effective marketing tool, a fashion photogaph must possess aesthetic and artistic excellence, Schramm points out. But in most cases, the art must be subliminal and unnoticed. The photo must be striking and command attention - but again, not to itself.
Schramm's studio, in New York's Greenwich Village, is in the parlor-floor-through of what was once a late 19th-century brownstone residence. The studio, however, is strictly a late 20th-century phenomenon, loaded with costly high-tech goodies - all kinds of lighting and strobe systems, special wiring, backdrops, arches and runways, bright dressing and makeup rooms, enlargers and drying cabinets, file cabinets of all sizes and shapes, hundreds of rolls of refrigerated film, innumerable cameras, from Polaroid to view-models , and innumerable lenses, from fisheye to super telephoto.
Schramm acknowledges, with apology, that for the few who succeed, big-time fashion photography is financially very rewarding. Indeed, it's been so rewarding for Schramm that he is no longer able to say precisely how much he does earn. He is aware, though, that success in his field depends on more than just luck and talent - even great talent.
''It sounds old-fashioned,'' he says, Schramm, ''but in this business hard work is essential. And you've got to be in control of the business as well as the creative and technical aspects of the work. A good manager is also es-senntial: I'm fortunate to have such a competent, dedicated manager in my partner and sister, Emily.''
Typically, Schramm's shooting schedules are brutal.
When this reporter visited his studio, two shoots had been scheduled for the day, one lasting until mid-afternoon, the other beginning early in the evening. The first, part of a series that had already been in progress for two weeks, involved Bloomingdale's annual holiday mail-order fashion catalog: a bright, glossy production of some 70 pages.
On hand for the shoot were people from Bloomingdale's - an art director, a project coordinator, several people to manage the wardrobe and accessories - as well as a makeup artist, a hair stylist, Schramm's two assistants, Emily, and of course Schramm himself.