Annie Lebowitz/Cindy Sherman

I’ve been dreaming of a photography project based on a photographer I absolutely cannot find, even when I put in all the words I can think of in Google*.

The project is to suspend a camera above my bed, set up to capture images throughout the night, then view the images in quick succession, effectively creating a movie of how I move while I sleep. The camera captured an image every five minutes, and there are now 94 images.

Thanks to Jason and his PC (stupid camera doesn’t support Mac for included remote capture program) I was able to rig up everything and last night was the first night of shooting. The downside is that unless I figure out how to do this with my Mac, Jason will be in all of the pictures. Unless he sleeps on the papajeaun.

I was going to upload a set to Flickr, but I seemed to have used all my bandwidth for the month.

I wasn’t sure how dark the shots would be (sans flash) so I left the lights on. There was some discussion that it would affect sleep, and therefore affect how we moved, but neither of us felt that we slept any worse for it. I think having a flash of light every five minutes would be awful, although it’s probably worth a try, maybe on a weekend night, because of how it will give the picture a Cindy Sherman frozen look, with darker shadows. As it is, there is a subtle change of light because there’s a window (upper right in the picture) that starts affecting the images. You can see it a little in this photograph. The flash would probably overpower that, but maybe trying low light (going more for shape than detail) the light would be a big part of it. I plan on experimenting with this for several more nights. There’s a definite pattern to movement that probably correlates to sleep cycles. I’m already insanely satisfied with the outcome.

*The photographer I’ve been inspired by brings models into her studio and has them fall asleep on a spread of black fabric. From a second level looking down, she photographs them as they sleep. She develops that film and projects the positive image onto textured surfaces like barn walls and photographs the wall. The total effect is a ephemeral sleepy old-timey image. I can hardly describe it. It makes you feel calm and warm, but because you’re looking at the person through a mask of rough texture, it’s not as voyeuristic. You look less at a guy curled up asleep, and more at the shape of a human at a moment when they are peaceful but unaware of their peace.