The host and hostess of the Mid-Autumn Festival show.
I’m usually on stage when the estate puts on a show. My phone rings when they need a foreigner that cleans up nice and is generally sober. I have always lamented not being able to shoot the performances I’m in. Waiting in the wings, a forced smile on my face, trying to remember my lines, generally prohibits photographic adventures.
As the Mid-Autumn show wasn’t televised I wasn’t needed. I didn’t even know the extravaganza was taking place until I wandered by. Not being able to read signs has drawbacks. It was hot, I was tired, but I trotted home for my Canon EOS 40D and my new Canon EF 70-200 f/2.8L USM IS lens.
People stared as I walked the quarter mile from my apartment to the outside stage. Carrying the camera, with a giant white lens attached, I felt like an armed soldier on patrol. I think some machine guns weigh less than the 40D with a 70-200 USM IS attached.
I pushed through the crowd, not as bad a boarding the subway, but holiday crowds, especially Grandmother with grandchildren appearing on stage, can be formidable foes. The lights went down and the music came up. The beautiful hostess, in a shiny sequined dress appeared, a dapper man at her side. As the orchestra started their first number the local press photographers appeared.
I had seen them before. While waiting in the wings at previous shows, I cursed them. They looked and acted just like their North American counterparts. Journalist and photographers must be the same the world over.
I did not want to be in the paper. I don’t want any photos taken of me (from 1993 to 1998 I think there are two photos of The Stevo in existence, one being a driver’s licence mugshot). Ironically, it was once me waiting, camera and flash at the ready, stalking stage-bound quarries. Turn about is fair play, someone said.
Children dancing as part of a Mid-Autumn Festival Show.
I shot, and shot, adjusted my exposure and ISO settings, and shot some more. Practice makes perfect, and I’ve only had the Canon EOS 40D for two months. We haven’t bonded yet. We’re getting closer, but our relationship has not yet been completely consummated.
The band did a second song and I lowered my axe. As I adjusted the ISO settings, I saw a Chinese photographer, with same gear as me, pointing his giant zoom lens in my direction. I pretended I didn’t see him. Another photographer, I saw from the corner of my eye, slyly trained his lens on me.
Crooning by the lanterns.
It’s been hot in south China as of late. Okay, it’s usually hot nine months of the year, but the last two weeks have been damn hot. Imagine: A red-faced, white man, dripping with sweat, holding a camera and ginormous zoom lens. Yeah, a great newspaper photo.
A group of dancing children bounded on to the stage. I raised my camera. In my haste I had only brought one memory card. I didn’t have many shots left. I fired away.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a weak flash. When I lowered my camera I saw an old man standing ten feet away. He held a video camera and was shooting stills of me, unabashed. A print photographer would have been more discrete. I’m sure he’s a neighborhood monitor and immediately sent my photo to someone in charge, with exclamations of a foreign reporter being present.
My card full, I beat a hasty retreat. Yeah, the new lens, attached to a Canon EOS 40D, rocks, but I stand out even more in a crowd.
