Strange Fruit
an excerpt

Michel took out his book given him by Spider and looked through it, falling on a page and checking out if it fit his mood.

Number Seventy

My words are veryeasy to undersand
And easy to practice,
Yet the world can neither understand them
Nor practice them.
My words have only one source:
The subtle truth of the universe.
My deeds have only one master:
Thenatural virueof theuniverse.
The people of the world have no knowledge of this.
Thus, theyhave no knowledge of me.
The fewer the persons that know me,
Thenobler are they have follow me.
Therefore, he one of whole virtue
Wears coarse lcothes superficially,
But holds a precious treasure within.

“Yes!”

The classroom’s students all turned around and awaited a response.
“Mr. Gramme? Do you have an answer for us?” Prof. Lamoreaux asked.

“Yes, I do. The answer is easy. Measure the lighting source and compare it to the lit subject. The light-intensity decreases exponentially as you move away from the light source, so in keeping with our equation… it appears to me… that the source should be placed roughly 6 feet away if we’re using ISO 400 film.” Michel smiled proudly, happy to have fallen on the right equation.

“Very good, Mr. Gramme.” But answer me this. Is there an answer in that book of yours?
The class laughed. Prof. Lamoreaux was impressed with Michel and his astute understanding of the science of photography, and he knew full well the boy had an eye for composition, but – and this is a big but – Michel had little inclination to put these talents to use. He was off somewhere else most of the time.

“Mr. Gramme, what is the answer the book gives? Perhaps it will be, and pardon me for the pun, enlightening.” Prof. Lamoreaux coaxed.

“Well, to be perfectly frank, here it is: The fewer the persons that know me, the nobler are they that follow me.”

The students in the classroom rolled their eyes and Michel got few smiles or nods except from Prof. Lamoreaux. “Very good, Michel. But what does this have to do with photography. For the moment, as you can see, the other students are studying photography. Perhaps they would like to know more about photography. Is there a connection? Anything this tells us about photography? Especially in reference to lighting.”

Michel loved this material. He was king, as far as he was concerned at making connections and forming metaphors. “Well.” He paused. “Um…” He stuttered. Oh shit. The other students grinned. Prof. Lamoreaux waited patiently. “Look at it this way.” Michel paused and relaxed. “Think of the lights as people. Their gazes look straight toward the subject, Sarah, in this case.”

Sarah looked at him with waiting eyes, a bit of disgust on her impatient face.

“Sarah is our subject and is the one our lighting shows. She is the one made known by the lights. Right now, as it is , we are simple students and have one simple light. If we were to have many lights all on the subject, how would it look?”

Michel stood up and walked over to the other fixed spot-lights around the room, turning them on, one by one, and focusing their glaring light on Sarah, from all angles. She brooded now, clearly impatient and hot under the lighting and the eyes of 15 of her fellow students.

“One by one, they light her up, from all angles, until what? She is a bland, uniformly lit subject. Boring, I’d say.” Michel paused, and felt nervous. Were they buying it? He relaxed again, fingering the beads in his pocket, letting a silence sink in for dramatic effect.

“Right now, we have many “people” who know the subject. The lights all point to her. But, as the passage states, “The fewer the persons that know me, the nobler are they that follow me.”

Michel continued his circle around the room, turning off the wall-switch first, and one by one, the spot lights, until one was left.

Sarah sat, waiting. Michel approached her with a photographer’s gaze, penetrating, analyzing, and he reached up with his hand to move her chin sidelong to the light. She cringed at his tattooed arm reaching up to her, Lotuses and waves of water and wind pouring down from his hand toward his elbow. But she knew her place as subject and participant and allowed her pose to move.

Michel stepped away and looked satisfied. Sarah sat on the stool with one solitary spotlight illuminating her figure from the right. Long shadows from her angular nose crossed her cheek, and even her eyelashes stood out like combed streaks of light across her face. One eye was lit, the other glimmered with a reflection. Her pose was tucked and not completely open or expansive on the dark, silhouetted side, and it was blazingly lit and dramatic on the other, right side of her body.

Prof. Lamoreaux smiled. He clapped encouragingly, sensing that the class was not altogether enthused to have a philosophy or even a photography lesson from the likes of Michel. He was tattooed and pretentious. Smart but a slacker. He hadn’t a clue what he was talking about most of the time, though he would like to pretend he did. A lot of what came out of his mouth sounded like bullshit, and this was no better.

“The fewer the persons that know me, the nobler are they that follow me.” Prof. Lamoreaux repeated. An apt lesson for lighting. She does look quite noble, or rather, dramatic, as you have lit the subject.” Michel smiled. He winced, suddenly aware of his pride and the stares from around the room. “But please, no more reading while I am giving a lecture.” Prof. Lamoreaux sternly insisted. He turned on the wall-switch and gave another glance at Michel before starting the class back on track again.

With his notebook out and Tao te Ching safely tucked away, Michel got cozy again in his chair to the back of the class. All eyes were forward and watching the chalk board. Prof. Lamoreaux began talking about some crucial equations and kept glancing to the back to check on Michel who was fast doodling in his notebook, eyes on his own page and the wonder of his own pen. Prof. Lamoreaux frowned but continued teaching to the class.