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Marilyn & Me

Thirteen years ago, I was shooting for Playboy special editions and I got a call from Playboy Studio West saying they were interested in me and my photography. Here I was, with a job offer on my way to PSW and I felt like Heaven had opened up and shone its brilliance upon me. Touch me and I swear I was so hot you would’ve burnt your fingers! It was like a trip to Wonderland and I was Alice. However, unbeknownst to me I was about to meet the Red Queen.

I walked in that morning without a care in world. Why should I worry? I had a very impressive portfolio and I was unquestionably proud of it . . . or so I thought. Being hired quickly turned into a dressing down and a harsh slap back to reality at the hands of West Coast Editor Marilyn Grabowski.

Before I tell you the details of what happened, let me clue you in on a few things about Ms. Grabowski. Have you ever seen “The Devil Wears Prada”? Well, compared to working with Marilyn, TDWP looked more like a kiddie cartoon movie filled with teddy bears and tea parties. The woman knew how to skin a cat before it touched the ground and had an unrelenting way of snapping you back to reality in half a heartbeat, intentionally or otherwise. No happy smiles, rainbows or magic unicorns here. I’ve seen grown men cower in fear like little boys and almost wet themselves at the thought of having to stand tall in front of her desk, and rightfully so. It is said that Hef had two Marilyn’s in his life; one was an angel, and the other… well, was not.

That being said, and despite being ruled by her iron hand, Marilyn had the astute, clear eye of a leader who had earned her stripes and a rightful place behind the desk from which she issued orders to an entire battalion of photographers and photo professionals. She had our respect, and most important, our trust. Her message to me was crystal clear.

The day I met her, Marilyn told me I had the potential to become one of the greats in the industry because I had am eye and a career that she’d been following for quite some time. That was the good news. However, I had one problem. While my models were excellent and technique was unmistakably professional, she essentially told me that my portfolio was like a cold steak;

I had THE BEEF, BUT NO SIZZLE!”

Upon hearing this, my house of cards collapsed once more. I was crestfallen and felt worthless; my career seemed to be nothing but a cruel joke and a waste of time. I guess she saw this on my face and told me gently (well, her version of “gently” anyway) that she needed a master, not just anther photographer with a nice, but inadequate, mediocre portfolio. I was told to “be at the studio at 9 a.m. the next morning. We’ve got work to do!”

That first day at PSW was another opportunity and the start of something big. I took this opportunity to start over. Again. I slowly took baby steps in search of learning how to add “the sizzle” to my already existing “beef” of photography skills. I wasn’t exactly a good chef at first; sometimes the steak would be raw or slightly underdone while other times it was burnt to a crisp.

Understandably, it was a learning curve that was out of this world and definitely not for the faint-hearted.

And on the subject of PSW, the one thing that might surprise you is that we hardly ever talked about the cameras and equipment we used. Sure, we’d enjoy showing off a piece of new equipment and others would “oooh” and “aaahhhh” over it like a newborn with us as the proud papa, but that was about it. What we did talk about was the light and the endless qualities it had, as well as how to apply it correctly in a given situation. I can imagine housemates Van Gogh and Gauguin having the same discussions over morning coffee before heading off to their day of painting. Not to sound pretentious but it’s this that keeps us in touch with the divine gift of life and enjoying, even treasuring, what’s been given during our short stay on this earth.

The entire process taught me two things, but I guess since they’re interrelated, it’s actually the same thought phrased differently. The first one is that the reason many photographers don’t make it is because they stop trying. Simple as that. The other is that we’ll never truly be “ready” unless we decide to make it so. I know of many photographers that spend their whole career preparing for that big moment that’ll never come because they’re too busy getting ready for it. They don’t see the opportunities as they pass by, and even when they do, they let it slip through their fingers because they’ve convinced themselves that their opportunity – their “golden ticket” – will arrive on their own terms.

Did you know that opportunities are never lost? That’s because someone will always take the ones you miss!

As the years rushed by, pictorials were born almost on a daily basis and nights filled with endless studying and practicing; learning how to make the impossible possible, a wealth of lighting scenarios produced, all designed to impress the editors, and – given the chance – even Hef himself. At one point, I forget exactly when, I wondered if the day would ever come that I would be able to step back and say, “I made it.” For the longest time, all I had gotten was the usual pat on the back, a muted “nice job, Jarmo,” or maybe a quick “good lighting” now and then – that was it. There was no official graduation day or initiation ceremony to confirm I was part of the team. I tried not to let it bother me and by that time I had built up a pretty tough skin, thanks to my relentless editors . . . but still.

And then, like the proverbial bolt out the blue, it hit me. The mere fact that I was working shoulder-to-shoulder with the best in the country and seen as an equal, not an outsider; not the “new kid” or a part-time wannabe, was proof that from Day One I had been accepted. I belonged. The second I stepped through Playboy’s front door for my first day of work proved that I already had what it takes. I was part of the team due to the diligence, perseverance, and plain, old-fashioned hard work I had brought with me.

As green as I was that day, the editors saw I was qualified to do the job even if I couldn’t see it for myself. Their job was to push you to your limits and then some. After the first week, I felt as if I was going to die. After the second week, I wished I had! Just when I thought I had reached my limit, they pushed for even more and there were times it took everything I had to keep going, but it was worth it. What people don’t see is when you work for someone, whether it’s Playboy or only for your local studio, it’s their name up there as well.

It’s their reputation you’ve got in your hands so you’ve have to do your best to make them look good.

Let’s take a look so we can see the big picture: I show my pics to the editor, who in turn shows them to the higher-ups. Those “higher-ups” sometimes included Hef. In the end, I might have had the photo credit, but it was my editors’ names and reputations on the line. If I wanted to look good, I had to make them look good. To take it a step further, it was even the magazine’s reputation. No pressure, right? Make others happy and you’ll be happy all the way to the bank.

You know what, though? The biggest reward was never the money even if the paychecks made life a little more comfortable. It also wasn’t being able to photograph some of the most beautiful girls in the world. It was nice having them around but when all is said and done it’s just another day at the office and there are deadlines to meet as you have to stay focused and on point. For me, the priceless moments was the spectacular journey of being able to fully express my vision and to be able to count the masters of photography as friends and peers, not just colleagues or co-workers.

I’m so grateful to them for lifting a finger and pointing me in the right direction. There is no way I could have learned all they taught me on my own. No matter how much equipment you have, you can never gain someone else’s experience without them taking the time to share it with you. I like to call this form of sharing from “father to son” or “master to apprentice.” As you are now, I once was. As I am now, perhaps one day you will be. Along with the gift of life, we were all given a superbly unique vision. Some pursue their vision and manage to capture what they seek, living a reality which came to fruition through their hard work while others merely chase an ever-elusive dream and when the reward exceeds their grasp, they give up.

Want to hear my advice? Keep your expectations low but your standards and goals high. It’s never an easy trip to the top which is why so many people never get there even though they may have the means and abilities to do so. I can’t predict whether you’ll fail or succeed, only you can determine that. However, what I can tell you is that you’ll need to bring a soft cushion to sit on and a few snacks because it’s going to be a very bumpy ride and the trip might take a little longer than expected. Running out of gas, getting flats, and engine trouble will happen now and again but quitting, giving up, and going home will never help you reach your destination.

Nuff said…

Jarmo Pohjaniemi

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