Photo Subjects Have Their Say
When we talk about the power of photography, we are usually referring to the medium’s effect on viewers. But photos also have an impact on their subjects. In this article we talk to the subjects of some well known images about their sudden fame, the experience of being photographed, and what it feels like to become a symbol that is scrutinized and studied by thousands of strangers.

Photo by Mary Ellen Mark

ERIN CHARLES, 36
Des Moines, Washington

Mary Ellen Mark’s 1983 picture of Erin “Tiny” Charles was first published in LIFE magazine for a story about teenage runaways in Seattle and later landed on the cover of Mark’s book Streetwise. In 1984, Mark and her husband, filmmaker Martin Bell, directed a documentary based on the essay, also called “Streetwise,” which was nominated for an Academy Award in 1985. The image of Tiny appeared on the movie’s poster.

I first met Mary Ellen and Martin [Bell, Mary Ellen Mark’s husband] at this club called The Monastery [in Downtown Seattle]. I happened to be high off of weed and Mary Ellen was trying to talk to me, and at first I thought they were the police, so I was kind of rude to them. And the next day I saw them and apologized and we started talking and they said they wanted to do a story for LIFE magazine and asked if I wanted to be in the photographs and I said “yes.”

We did this shot one day around Halloween. I’m not really sure what I was dressed up as...everyone thought maybe a hooker. [laughs].

I like it. Mary Ellen does really good pictures. She always liked the straight, serious look. She doesn’t like a lot of smiling because it’s more natural when you look serious. I was always the type that liked to smile, though, so it was kind of hard to pose there without smiling.

A few months after the photos, they came back to Washington to do the movie. I’ve kept in contact with them ever since.

I didn’t think the movie was going to be as popular as it was. I didn’t think it was going to be nominated for awards and stuff. I got to go to New York and sign autographs for the poster and did a couple of talk shows.

After the movie came out, like five years later, I had someone come up to me and tell me how much they liked the movie and asked how I was doing. But I don’t get recognized much anymore because I’ve changed quite a bit. I gained weight [laughs]. And I don’t go downtown or go to clubs anymore. I don’t hang out like that, because I’ve changed my life around.

Mary Ellen and Martin just came here in December. I love it when they come around. They’re like my second set of parents that I never had. They were supposed to come and film me having my ninth baby, but [the baby] came kind of early. They still came and did interviews and photos and stuff. They’re putting together pictures and interviews I’ve done throughout the years with them.

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Photo by Larry Sultan

IRVING SULTAN, 90
Palm Desert, California

Irving Sultan is the father of California-based photographer Larry Sultan and the subject, with his late wife Jean, of Sultan’s book and exhibit “Pictures from Home.” The book Pictures From Home (1992) combined Sultan’s family snapshots, memorabilia, interviews and original, intimate and probing portraits shot over the course of a decade.
“Larry Sultan: Pictures From Home,” made its debut as a completed body of work in 1992 at the San Jose Museum of Art, San Jose, California, and was exhibited in numerous museums all over the world, including the Gallery of Photography in Dublin, Ireland, and The Corcoran Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.

I didn’t pose for that picture. I was watching a ballgame. Larry was taking pictures of my wife and myself for almost ten years. He would fly down from Northern California to our condo in Palm Springs and bring many rolls of film—there was film all over the place—and he’d just be snapping pictures of us. Over a period of time, you’d get used to it. I’d be having breakfast, he’d take pictures. Reading a newspaper, he’d take pictures. In bed, he’s taking a picture. So, I got quite used to it, and so when I see that picture, I don’t think I posed for it, I was just watching a ballgame.

Photo by Larry Sultan

The golf swing picture? Oh gee, I hate that thing. I was doing something, and I always have a golf club around that I practice with, and Larry said, “Take a swing with that golf club,” and I took a swing and I didn’t know he was taking a picture. I said, “Don’t you dare print that. It’s a terrible golf swing. Weak. Terrible.” And he has a smile on his face every time he tells me, “Hey Dad, someone else just bought one of those pictures. They love it.” But I don’t know how they love a golf swing like that. It’s beyond me.

It is a strange feeling [knowing that the pictures are in galleries and museums]. Of course I joke with Larry a lot of times—I’ve been to a few [openings]—and I would say “You know Larry, this is such a popular book, but not one person has come up to me and asked me for my autograph.” [laughs].

It’s been about 15 or 20 years since the book was published. It gave me a much deeper thought and understanding and appreciation of my son. To me, there’s a lot of love and feeling there. And it was reminiscent to see the things we’ve done and accomplished when we went through life. And from what Larry tells me, the book seems to have a life that continues on.

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Photo by Sally Mann

LEAH STONE, 29
Albuquerque, New Mexico

Leah Stone is a subject of Sally Mann’s book At Twelve (1988), a collection of portraits of girls on the verge of adulthood, which preceded her most famous, and controversial, work, Immediate Family. At Twelve was exhibited in numerous galleries, including Edwynn Houk Gallery in Chicago, Illinois, and Picture Photo Space, Tokyo, Japan.

My family was on a picnic up on a mountain in Lexington, Virginia. Sally had seen us, and thought we looked sweet or something, and called a few days later and asked if she could recreate that scene. We actually took the picture in her backyard. But I don’t think she reformed the pictures to be anything they weren’t originally. Everything that she captured was very genuine. And I thought it was very innocent.

I remember having to be still for quite a while and I felt special. I remember it being really casual. And I remember her being a really interesting person.

Honestly, I don’t see any implications in the picture. It was so innocent. I think because it was a college town, I think growing up I spent a lot of time with adults. I was very comfortable around adults and I grew up calling all of them by their first names. It’s a very low-key, friendly town.

When I was a baby, Sally took a picture of my mom and me at a log cabin out in the country. I’ve known of her since then, and I would see her at Lexington functions, and she and my mom were friends. Most of the subjects in the At Twelve book were from around the Rockbridge County area.

Sally is very well known there, but very private. Everyone is proud of her, and proud she is from our town, but no one makes a big fuss about her.

I loved the picture. I got quite a bit of attention from it in the beginning. That was fun. And it’s still fun today, to go to Borders or Barnes and Noble and be able to find it. As she became more famous, it became even more exciting. To know that I was in a book by Sally Mann is pretty cool.

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