Pony had interviewed him first and told me that I would like him. To be honest, I wasn’t in the mood to photograph anyone. And then Pony mentioned that Clark had come in with painted fingernails. I said, ‘No, I’m not interested. Get rid of him.’ I have no idea why I changed my mind.
I took some snapshots while he was dressed—I was intrigued by the fact that he’d brought a copy of the score to Brahm’s 4th Symphony with him. It’s one of my favorite pieces of music. I left, telling him to take his clothes off. When I came back it was as if a different man was in the room. Is it that he was hiding his own beauty, or is it that this is simply the everyday miracle of male youth?
Before I photograph a man I have Pony or Brett videotape him as he undresses. Someday I’ll make a compilation of all of them. I think you can learn a great deal about a man by watching him take his clothes off. After this particular shoot Pony told me that for the first time he felt a little frightened. He said, ‘It was like being alone in a dark room with a wild animal.'”
There was a language barrier. It took a good while before I understood that he was from Greece, a small village he was sure I’d never heard of. I asked why he’d come to San Francisco. He shook his head slowly and said “No.
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