Thursday 29 December 2016

Best wishes for 2017!


Neutral expression? Mouth closed? Eyes open?
What? All at the same time?

I had to renew my passport this month, so had a session of self-portraiture, which is not something I do very often, not least because it involves finding a tripod. Passport photo requirements are quite specific:
Your photos must:
be a close-up of your full head and upper shoulders
contain no other objects or people
be in clear contrast to the background
Not a problem. Oh, and...
In your photo, you must:
be facing forward and looking straight at the camera
have a neutral expression and your mouth closed
have your eyes open, visible and free from reflection or glare from glasses
not have hair in front of your eyes
not have a head covering (unless it’s for religious or medical reasons)
not have anything covering your face
not have any ‘red eye’
not have any shadows on your face or behind you
You can’t wear sunglasses or tinted glasses. You can wear reading glasses but your eyes must show fully through clear lenses without glare or reflections.
Blimey: bang goes the idea of wearing a "V for Vendetta" mask, then. And red-eye is kind of my look. But, finally having got something suitable (or sort of suitable – it's not easy being neutral, especially not wearing my customary wraparound mirror shades), I decided to play around with the less suitable ones.

Thus, above we have my "Self-portrait in the fashionable tintype manner". Strange, how much older (and how much more skeptical) I look scowling for the camera than I do in the mirror... Either there's some psychological phenomenon at play here, or I must get a better camera. One that reflects my inner perception, rather than the stark reality. This is still much more like what I think I see in the mirror:

Your host, ca, 1961

Despite its defects, that school photo did get used in a passport, of sorts. Of course, passport photo requirements were less strict in those days, and the production values rather lower:


Oddly enough, I do still have exactly the same missing teeth, though I'm pretty sure they did turn up at some point between then and now. As did a lot of things that also seem to have vanished along the way: good friends, close family, even solidly familiar buildings, all have been disappearing into thin air, leaving not a wrack behind. And I can't find my bloody Kindle anywhere. This year does seem to have been particularly forgetful of some beloved public figures, though, doesn't it? I do hope David Attenborough is wrapping up warm, in these last days of 2016. If it hadn't become such a cliché, I would yet again invoke Walter Benjamin's Angel of History. But it's the right time of year to indulge in the bittersweet melancholy of remembrance, and to raise a time-honoured toast: absent friends!

Regretfully, however, I suppose I must accept that the scowly first photo is a truer reflection of reality than the smiley second. The years do pass, and our faces and demeanour change with them. Every ten years or so, this requires a new passport photo to be taken. But who knew that, 55 Christmasses later, this grizzled clown would emerge?


Ah, well. Another Christmas, another paper crown... Hey, I wonder if that counts as a head-covering worn for religious reasons? That would make for a much more interesting passport, wouldn't it? Profession? Oh, still King; on paper, anyway...

But, if you're prepared to accept 50% of my genetic material as a sort of self-portrait, then here I am looking my very best, on the beach at Lyme Regis on the afternoon of Christmas Day:


Oh, brave new world, that has such creatures in it! Though I suspect she'll never forgive me for the gift of the family nose, pretty as it is when worn by her.

So, no matter what you think of what looks back at you in the mirror each morning, or how many passports you've got through, or how many year's end celebrations you've witnessed, and despite any perfectly justified forebodings, may the coming year treat us all well!
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.
Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities (1859)
Nicely put, sir, nicely put. I think you still hold on to your narrow lead in the competition for "Best Opening Sentence EVER!"; and plus ça change, eh?

8 comments:

Huw said...

Mike,

My eldest's passport needs renewing so I took her photo this week. It's tricker now she's over six as the requirements are stricter (no smiling!) but one for my few photographic skills is turning out suitable photos. Half the battle is in the printing: ensuring the crop and dimensions are such that the distance between crown and chin is 29-34mm. I suspect most photo booths or camera stores are less exacting.

Lovely picture of your daughter. Wry bemusement.

Best wishes for 2017,
Huw

Mike C. said...

Huw,

I suspect they don't care as much about their own rules as they claim to! The one I eventually sent (online) failed on several counts, but was passed as acceptable, which surprised me. Obviously, being a photographer, I preferred the one where the eyes were most sharply focussed, despite its other shortcomings... Unfortunately, it's also the one that looks least like me. I anticipate delays at various borders over the next decade...

Best for 2017 to you, too,

Mike

Huw said...

Mike,

Unfortunately I have to get a photo countersigned by an upstanding member of the community so didn't have the option of online submission.

The top photo is very Peter Blake.

Huw

Mike C. said...

They can be very difficult to find at short notice, those pillars of the community, can't they? Luckily, one of our neighbours works in a bank, so we can sign each others' stuff.

But: you think I look like Peter Blake?? Oh, God...

Mike

Huw said...

We annoy two friends of the family who are accountants, but in alternation.

And any artist of a certain age with a white beard of a certain style reminds me of Peter Bkake. In a good way, if that helps?

Huw

Mike C. said...

Huw,

There is no good way to remind people of Peter Blake. The subject is closed... ;)

Mike

Zouk Delors said...

... and definitely no sneering contemptuously down your nose at officers of the Crown!

Your handwriting was so much better then (even if your understanding of "date of birth" was less precise).

The schoolteacher who had known me (and you) well since age 11 was rejected as guarantor of my true likeness for my last passport but one, on the grounds he was currently off sick from supply teaching, so not attached to a particular school. I eventually got my endorsement from the landlady of the pub where I used to go for karaoke, who didn't even know my "real" name till she saw it on the app. Luckily that was good enough to carry through to the latest, which (as a renewal) didn't need independent verification.

Mike C. said...

Zouk,

My handwriting was fine until bloody George Partridge insisted on changing it... He had a personal vendetta against italic, and demanded cursive "loops". It's never recovered, and I've never forgiven him. I hope there's an afterlife just so he can be made to change his handwriting every day... And then be made to stand in front of a class of boys, each of whom will whack the palm of his hand with a ruler. Hah!

Mike