Props

At my dad’s fiftieth birthday barbecue, Joe and Pete came over with six packs and water rockets. They were the kind of aqua-explosives that required excessive pumping in order to maximize the height of the launch. During the party, they worked as a team, Pete holding the module still while Joe torqued it up good before letting it fly. The rotation of the rocket acted as a lawn sprinkler, spraying water on those below. What impression I gave my friends that my dad was into air-propulsion jet toys I don’t remember. But I do remember the air show. Pete chortling in his hushed, rollicking way while Joey cranked them up with boyish enthusiasm. Those things were flying all over our yard, and at some point one of my dad’s softball teammates tapped the ash off his cigar and asked what those fucks were up to.

Joe often brought props to a scene. Whether it was water rockets to enliven a backyard party or jello-colored dinosaurs to grace the dashboard of his van, the introduction of objects to a place deliberately changed the atmosphere. Since Joe was also a master of video production, it’s not surprising that many of his photos owe their interest to the props, sometimes called mise-en-scene, that lend elements of story to the moment contained in the frame.

David in his Bedroom 1994.

In “David in his Bedroom,” the props share the stage with the person they serve to describe. The black coffee, Camel cigarettes, busy ashtray and book overturned and opened to a page all make up the foreground and combine to imply that we have intruded on someone perfectly content in his isolated world. The guitar and television on the right border sit opposite a window covered by a printed textile, further enclosing David with his humble belongings and sealing him off from the outside world. Still, this is not the filthy artist living in abject squalor, as the peeping bottle of Clorox - not center stage but center frame – reaffirms for us that a life of chosen seclusion need not be one without everyday practicalities.

Phil at the Mantle 1994

Joe was a perfectionist with his sets. Every detail within the frame had to contribute to the overall effect; otherwise it was jettisoned. In “Phil at Mantle” the gothic effect is achieved with the help of the objects that column the center of the picture. The old-fashioned perfume bottle brings us to a world of antiquity, and reminds us that self-adaptation occurs every time we put something on, including fragrance. The spider plant that rains down in regenerative sprouts visually mimics Phil’s hair, even merging with it in the mirror image. The bonsai acts as a calming device, stabilizing the viewer as we negotiate the division of opposing worlds, the actual and the reflected.

Giorgio with MacDonald's Cup 1994.


I think Joe was having some fun with “Giorgio with MacDonald’s cup.” He might even have been calling attention to the whole act of using props by blatantly abusing the practice. Can we really contemplate the complexities of life, as Giorgio seems to be doing here, sipping from a cup whose place of origin brags of one billion served? If you’re a fan of irony, like me, you’ll appreciate the effect Joe is after here. And it comes with fries.

For the most part, the props that appear in the above photos are either pre-arranged or manipulated by the photographer for full effect. But not this one. Joe got lucky with “Girls Getting Ready.” Let me rephrase that. What I mean is that the props that make this photo interesting are readily available to him. First of all, he has entered what is traditionally forbidden territory – the bride (Amy) getting ready while her attendants fawn all over her, plying her with compliments and wine. Thus, we are all privy to the private affair.

Girls Getting Ready 1995.

Not only that, but someone besides Joe seems to have entered the room, judging by the variety of reactions that look offstage. As we swerve across the room and gauge the undulating figures, the expressions of annoyance, indifference, modesty, puzzlement, shock, and cheer heighten our curiosity and up the dramatic stakes. Who has barged in and what have they seen? The tangle of snow-laden branches in the window framing Alice and Sarah add to the tension, and seem to slither into the room. Moving back across the room we follow the serpentine swirls of the wall shelf and mirror sconces, one of which shines light on Andrea, while the other coils over her head. I’m not trying to suggest witchcraft here, but the empty wine bottle and open paper bags add to the secrecy. Just what kind of sorcery was afoot here we are left to wonder. The prim little flower girl in the center stands as straight as the bride, clutching the bouquet tight and balancing the occasion of the photo with puritan decency. Joe’s artistic instinct is timed well here, as the props that already exist season the mood of the photo.

Joey understood how objects in a frame could jazz up atmosphere, but he used them both sparingly and purposefully. A perfume bottle, a loaded ashtray, a wax cup, and long ago a water rocket were all things he used to suit up the scene. My dad’s birthday celebration would not have been as memorable without those rockets shooting up and raining down.

Me, Joe, and Pete at Dad's Fiftieth. Taken by my mom, I think, after putting an end to the antics. Medfield, MA 1984.

Discretion was a mode of discipline Joey cared little about. It got in his way and would make him shrug, even today. He knew what was necessary according to his own quick survey of the immediate landscape. The rest was audience.