Philippe, I think our disconnect problem is that you and I are talking about two entirely different ways of working.

The first week of art school, I met a real cute uninhibited blonde hippie who would eagerly model anything I needed for class in order to feed herself.

One day I found myself wandering around the (unfamiliar) streets and back allies of Hollywood with this girl, shooting essentially reportage, hoping she would spontaneously do something photogenic to accidentally give me a shot for my school assignment.

At some point, I realized that my main motivation was the immense enjoyment of spending the day with a very pretty young girl, and her only motivation was to run up the model fee as high as possible. Neither of us had a clue what the picture was, which we were there to make.

Very soon, in order to stay in school, stay married, not waste so much film, and work more efficiently, I began pre-planning the pictures I would make. No more leaving things to dumb luck.

Once, I needed to photograph a 1960's kaftan thingie for a fashion class. Lots of drama was required. I spent the day wandering around meadows in Calabassas. With a compass I located a steep hillside, covered in large rocks and dead branches which sloped upward to the west. I marked the spot for the tripod with large pile of stones.

Next day, I drove out there with a professional model from Nina Blanchard Agency, dressed in the large robe. I set up the 4x5 with a 90mm lens and attached an old Honeywell potato-masher to the top of the front standard. Film was Ektachrome E3.

Setting the exposure with the f-stop for normal with the flash and 2 stops under for the daylight with the shutter. I waited for the sun to begin to set.

The resulting shot showed the model posed standing full-length, properly spot-lit within the flash, and a small pool of white light around her feet.

The sky and hillside were dark because of the underexposure for the daylight. The large rocks on the hillside, and a big dead tree, behind the model were all edged in bright red light from the setting sun behind the hill. It added the drama I needed and popped them away from the deep blue sky.

The technique worked to well, I later used it on a brunette with black Spanish lace around her head, wearing a floor-length white satin designer coat with black embroidery, black patent leather shoes with stiletto heels..

This time, in b&w, I shot on the flat roof of a commercial building, placing the 4x5 camera at ground level, looking up at the full-length figure. I carefully placed the sun directly behind the model’s head, creating a halo. I had been there, alone, the day before with a compass and newspaper sunset table. I knew exactly when and where the sun would be, and where to place the camera and model.

Same underexposure for the daylight, throwing the rooftop into black silhouette. The coat was lit normally with the Honeywell.

Neither of these shots amounted to artistic rocket science. And yet, their magic greatly benefitted from a little pre-visualization and planning. Necessary as a poor college student, working alone with zero budget.

I never leave the studio now without a pre-planned firm shot list. Like working in my woodshop, I begin with a blueprint, rather than randomly nailing boards together, hoping something nice comes out.

As long as you spend the day wandering around the woods with a model, hoping something photogenic will happen, your session will be a delightfully enjoyable crapshoot, and you will require all the magic filters you can muster. I know. Been there. Done that. It was 1967.