"I have a shy smile from Kimmy again," gently admonishes Eileen.
"Kimmy!" whine the two boys in unison. Perhaps Miko and Kris will one day perfect the sandblasted smiles of our veteran politicians, but at this young age, they prefer summer poetry classes to posing for a camera–and their sister just prolonged their agony. Eileen Grey is unfazed and call for the dogs.
Bruno, Bridget, and Brandy shuffle into the studio like little shaggy soldiers and obediently join their masters. The three dogs behave admirably–for all of four seconds. In an instant, the mayhem resumes. Kimmy, Miko and Kris each embrace one dog, hoping to calm their now squirming pets. It doesn’t work but a noticeable change has just transpired. The kids are now having fun and their mother is relieved.
"It’s growling!" says Miko. Eileen–now sprawled like a sniper on the floor, holding a camera that must now feel as heavy as a bowling ball, cajoling her subjects to squeeze more chummily together–would be excused for ignoring this untimely lament given the chaos unfolding underneath the bright lights of her studio. Instead, she asks, "What’s growling? The dog?"
"No, my tummy. I’m hungry," says the boy, hardly the retiring wallflower type. She promises him a burger and fries after the shoot. Diego, her assistant, wheels in a Little Tykes cart upon her instructions. The three dogs are scooped up and plunked down the toddler-safe toy. The potential image would rival a Winnie the Pooh and Piglet reconciliation scene for sheer cuteness, but the dogs do not share Eileen’s artistic vision–they are trying to jump out of their little prison. Our intrepid photographer pauses to think.
"Who is behind the curtain?" she asks the family. "Why are the dogs looking that way?" She draws it open and sees the culprit–the family driver. The dogs equate his smell to road trips (these pets love to travel). Eileen banishes the poor man and instructs him to entertain himself by window-shopping around The Podium. Problem solved. The dogs are less restless; now, if only they would look straight at the camera. To attract their attention for the ideal photograph, Eileen does what any self-respecting professional photographer would do. She meows.
That does the trick. The humans are smiling and man’s best friends have been suckered into striking a pose. Mission accomplished–yet another perfect portrait from the Picture Company. The excited family is now milling around Eileen’s digital camera, looking at their images in its small viewing screen.
The Picture Company, tucked away at the third floor of swanky The Podium in Pasig, commenced business in January of this year. It specializes in taking fun and creative portraits of families, children and babies. Owned by 32-year-old Eileen, her husband Vince and partner Dale Diaz, the pioneering portrait studio was created to address the general frustration every parent experiences when attempting to get their kids to smile for the camera.
"I’ve always wanted to put up a studio for kids, but we weren’t sure if the market was ready," says Eileen. "After so many attempts to take the picture of my own kids, I thought…hey, I’m a mom…there really is a need for friendly photographers who understand the psychology of kids!"
A main draw of the studio is its use of digital equipment. Many traditional portrait studios are now riding the digital wave; Picture Company, the first informal portrait studio in the Philippines, employed the technology from its inception. The benefits are obvious. You may view your shots on one of the company’s two iMacs and select only the ones you want for printing. Digital cameras also allow photo-graphers to click away without worrying about the small fortune they have to cough up for film. This results in unashamedly trigger-happy lensmen and increases the likelihood of capturing the perfect photograph.
"We deal a lot with spontaneity, movement, energy–we have to educate parents who come here expecting a formal, stiff portrait. We put this up because we wanted to capture the child’s inner spirit. A lot of clients will tell their kids don’t laugh because they want a smile and not a laugh. But your child is only this age once and their personality will change as they grow older. We want to catch it the way it is now," says Eileen.
As if working with children is unpredictable enough, Picture Company is now willing to insert the pet variable into an already volatile equation. The Podium, which normally prohibits animals inside their premises, has extended Eileen special dispensation. Explaining her inspiration to include pets in her shoots, she says, "I have a friend who does pet portraiture, and I always see all the dogs well behaved in the photos so I thought it was going to be easy! But we put up the company because we love kids–and kids love their pets."
The former stay-at-home mother (Eileen was a resort owner before she married) realized early on that the success of her new business hinged on the resourcefulness of its staff. She set up a mock studio in her mother’s house and took in applicants to see if they were "childproof". There are scores of good photographers, but could they handle the occasional Dennis the Menace? Were their spirits unbreakable?
"We wanted to see if they were patient enough to stay. We were really looking for people who loved kids. Everyone who works here is all-around. We’re all cashiers, janitors and photographers. There are five full-time staff and we have a lot of part-timers who have day jobs and come here at night or during weekends."
A wide range of props capable of seizing the attention of even the most sugar-revved child simplifies their work. Choo choo trains, fuzzy bumblebees, magic slates, train tents, seesaws, balloons (non-helium, of course), striped rubber fish, Sesame Street dolls, a pajama-clad Mickey, multi-hued golf balls and spaceguns fill up a large ante-room beside the studio.
Inside the studio, kids can choose from a wacky wardrobe of elaborate costumes. There are wizard outfits, Dr. Seuss and Viking hats, even hats with stegosaurus plates. The girls can decide to dress as ballerinas, Cinderella or, for the more maternally inclined, the maltreated maiden’s fairy godmother. Tiaras and magic wands are just two of the many available accessories. There’s also an outrageous fur-lined mirror topped with a dunce’s cap.
Still, kids will do the darnest things. "Crazy things happen with older kids. There is a lot of psychology that goes on with the more difficult ages like, let’s say, three-year-olds who are asserting their autonomy. What we do is make them drive a car or ask them to show us stunts like taekwondo moves or catching a soccer ball," says Eileen.
Every parent knows that getting a child to smile for the camera is often as difficult as getting a tax refund from the Bureau of Internal Revenue. Here, a little reverse psychology goes a long way. "We want to catch them that way. I always tell my photographers not to say, Smile! We still do it sometimes out of force of habit, I admit. There was one kid who refused to smile so I said, ‘Don’t smile! Don’t smile!’ The more I did that, the more he started laughing."
Eileen distributes flyers that summarize the tricks of the trade gleaned over the last months. For clothes, solid colors are best–bold patterns distract from the face. Making sure shoes and socks match is an obvious one that is nonetheless often overlooked. Bring a comb or brush and a damp washcloth to tame fly-away hair (a neat trick, that one). Bring a dry snack for toddlers, something that will not soil their clothes. Toddlers can be problematic. They easily pick up your stress and become nervous, so come in early and let the photographer interact with your child to make him or her comfortable. For group portraits, coordinate everyone in the same style or color.
Lately, Eileen has learned that stage mothers can be as much trouble as unruly kids. There is a fail-safe solution–the staff simply declares, "Ok, it’s Mommy’s turn to play in the playroom!" Works all the time.
Eileen may be imperturbable dealing with kids and pets, but the grown-ups are often another matter. The only time she needed to excuse herself from a shoot was when a twenty-something couple wanted their torrid kissing session immortalized for posterity. As the passionate exhibition steamed up even old, jaded Mr. Furry Dunce Mirror, Eileen muttered an apology, handed the camera to one of her staff and left the room beet-red.
Lecherous photographic subjects aside, Eileen and her inventive staff can handle any situation. The portraits that line the reception area’s walls are colored testaments to the freshness of unaffected, off-the-cuff snapshots. Not every picture is worth a Dickensian thousand words, but one taken at the Picture Company is personal history at its most honest.