Stefan Pasborg

Stefan Pasborg

I do the same thing, blink my eyes as soon as the shutter goes. I don’t  know why, many people do it. Stefan did it as well, so much, that we had to come up with something different. We were at his home, his partner and baby had gone to bed, however I had struggled through an icy winter evening, spending a couple of hours stuggling across town to reach his place, so I wasn’t in a hurry to leave the warmth of his house in a trendy surburb of Copenhagen. He felt differently from the beginning. I had him lie on his back, backdropped him with his favourite albums. I tried a few more attempts at a more benign facial expression, but it was futile. Nothing worked. Closed eyes each time. In the end I explained arrrgh in frustration; followed by a laugh! Try that I said. Arrgh he went! It worked and we wrapped it up to its centre fold place. Jazz musician’s hospitality doesn’t always extend to a kind warm drink for a winter weary photographer.

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