Still Life with Persimmon

Two weeks ago, I fell in love. Now, I'm in a relationship. And it all began this past Friday in a room with 16 strangers.

I know what you might be thinking, but there were no cocktails or fancy panties involved... or sage, butter and acorn squash for that matter.

There were only persimmons.

Yes, persimmons. Actually, I suppose it's more accurate to say I had a relationship. For already, said relations are over. And now, all I have are photos. Isn't that the way of things?

The relationship began in that room on Friday with 16 strangers before I even met those beautiful persimmons. I took a four-day food photography workshop through the International Center of Photography led by the extremely talented and gracious Susie Cushner, who photographed the soon-to-be-released James Beard Foundation's Best of the Best: A 25th Anniversary Celebration of America's Outstanding Chefs. Ms. Cushner was assisted by Benjamin Petit, a young Frenchman with a brilliant eye, beautiful portfolio, and superb technical skills. We had help in the studio from gifted food stylist Carrie Ann Purcell, who co-creates the gorgeous blog Pictures and Pancakes.

It has been a wonderful four days, but it's also been exhausting and a little intimidating. I'm not a professional, and my technical knowledge is (between you and I) embarrassing in its sparsity.

So, here I sit with a dry gin martini, garnished with a blood orange twist, contemplating relationships with food--not as ingredients that I will consume, enjoy, and be nourished by, but as objet d'arte that are visually delicious. And my, what an interesting dilemma it is to know that one does not lead to the other in the eye of the lens!

We were tasked as students to, first and foremost, take the time to observe, assess, contemplate and decide--rather than to shoot willy nilly, which is my usual approach. And frankly, I was failing at it until I met the persimmons.

They were wonderfully round and seductively warm in color. I set them in a dish upon a rich purple cloth and contemplated their enchanting features--the gray-green decay of the dried leaves crowning their tops, the tilt of one to another, their smooth curved edges, the small reflections of sunlight that graced their corners, the shadows in the cloth that sculpted the environment around them...

Oh my goodness. I fell right through infatuation into a relationship. I was so involved with my persimmons I hardly noticed that the class had returned from lunch. Susie said, "Don't move" and immortalized my affair with persimmons in the Shooting Kitchen on Laight Street with a click of Instagram. 

Relationship --- Taken by Susi Cushner

And then I immortalized the persimmons--a little less easily. As with many relationships past, we started off so passionately and then we hit a wall. My first photograph was all wrong! I overexposed and clumsily compensated. My attempt to make 'things' work was illogical. And then, I panicked when asked to explain myself.

Fortunately, photographic relationships are easier to fix than their human counterparts. A little help from Susie and a photography 101 refresher, and the result was, well, you decide...

Still Life with Persimmons

As for taste, it's been so long since I ate a persimmon I can't remember what they taste like. Now, quince, on the other hand, that is an unforgettable fruit. Once you've had freshly baked quince, your taste buds are never the same. Are they quite as beautiful? You'll have to ask me after the courtship.