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A Merry Little Christmas(24)

By:Melanie Schuster


"Thanks for the compliment. That's the second one I've gotten today.  This is my serious-artist drag," she said with a short laugh. "Now let's  just hope it impresses Miss Shabazz."

A.J. put his long, strong hands on her shoulders and gave her a little  shake, quickly followed by another embrace. "Look, sweetie, I keep  telling you you're the real deal. Your talent will speak for itself. Get  your coat and your other goods and chattels and let's get going. You're  going to knock her socks off," he promised her.

Angelique gave him a shaky smile of gratitude. "I just hope you're right."

In a short while, they were shown into Aneesah's sunny office at the  museum. She met them at the door wearing a chic navy pantsuit with a  beautiful Kente cloth throw over one shoulder. Her smooth brown face  glowed and her shining black hair shone with good health; not a hair of  her stylish, short coiffure was out of place. "Good morning! I'm so glad  to meet you both," she said with a warm sincerity that immediately put  Angelique at ease. She showed them to comfortable chairs and made  pleasant small talk while offering coffee or tea. Soon it seemed AJ.'s  prediction proved correct: she was completely impressed with everything  she saw in Angelique's portfolio. After A.J. and Angelique set the  mounted matted pictures on the easels placed in the office for that  purpose, Aneesah went into her own little world.

She was talking softly to herself and blotting moisture from her eyes,  and then looked up with a huge smile. "I'm sorry, I don't usually go off  like that, but I've never seen anything quite like this," she admitted.  "I've seen some of your work in Hour magazine, and in Elle, but these  are just incredible. Tell me again how you got started."

Angelique took a deep breath and looked at A.J., who raised one brow and  gave her a nod of encouragement. "Well," she began, "my brother Clay  was a photojoumalist. That was his passion; it had been for as long as I  can remember. He used to have a camera with him all the time. He took  pictures of everything and he's the one who taught me how to use a  camera. I used up roll after roll of film taking all kinds of terrible  pictures." She laughed at the memory. "Clay was really patient with me,  though. He traveled a lot, but whenever he was home he'd show me  something new, how to set up a shot, how to use different cameras and he  even showed me how to develop. I never really did anything with it  until years later, though."

She paused for a moment and glanced at A.J. again. "My family's company,  the Deveraux Group, has about twenty different magazines and about  fifteen newspapers, as I'm sure you're aware. After I tried college, my  brothers tried to find something for me to do in the company. I kind of  went from place to place, from department, to department, wreaking havoc  everywhere.

"I was the prototype of the spoiled little debutante. In fact, I was the  gold standard of the Black American Princess, too cute to work and too  rotten to stay in school. Luckily, my sister-in-law Vera had the  compassion and foresight to put me with A.J." She looked at him again,  this time giving him a huge smile that lit up the room.                       
       
           



       

"A.J. let me work as his assistant, and that's where my education in  photography was continued. He taught me everything he knows about  photography. Trust me when I tell you he's forgotten more than I'll ever  know. He also taught me how to be a professional, how to respect my  craft and the people with whom I associate. He taught me how to be an  adult, basically. When he decided to leave fashion photography and make  documentaries, I went with him and I took pictures of everything I saw. I  met so many wonderful people and learned so much, I can never repay  him. I owe everything to this man," she said passionately.

By now A.J. was looking a bit uncomfortable with this praise, and  Aneesah was looking at him with distinct interest. He tried to deflect  the plaudits by pointing out that Angelique's vision was totally her  own. "Regardless of what she says, you can see her talent in the prints.  She has a gift for capturing the essence of the moment and making a  story come alive in a photograph, which is, of course, what art is all  about."

Aneesah agreed wholeheartedly. "I completely concur. These African women  are all so beautiful, but there's so much more than beauty in their  faces. Were these all taken in one place?"

"Yes, they were, they were all from the same village. All those women  have either full-blown AIDS or they're HIV-positive," Angelique said  quietly. "All those women have children, all of whom also have AIDS and  HIV. And their husbands, who were infected by women working as  prostitutes to support their families, infected each of them. This is a  hard fact of life in many parts of Africa, unfortunately. I have  pictures of the children, also, but I didn't know if you'd be interested  in them."

Aneesah's face wore an unreadable expression and she was quiet for a  long moment. "I don't know if you're aware of it, but I have an MFA in  art history and my doctorate work is in cultural anthropology. What your  pictures are depicting was a large part of my dissertation. I'd very  much like to see those pictures. More importantly, I think that the  public in general would like to see your pictures. I think they need to  see your pictures. Like these pictures of women working; I'm in complete  awe of them."

Angelique almost ducked her head at the praise, but caught herself in  time. She was proud of the series of images of women at work. Like all  her work, they were in black and white, developed on matte paper to  better display the texture of the subject. She had shot women working as  exotic dancers, showing them as they got dressed to perform, and as  they dressed to leave work. Their stories were written across their  faces like tattoos. She had taken shots of women working in fish  canneries, in sweatshops, in diners, in institutional laundries, as well  as female firefighters, basketball players and mechanics. There were  women working in the small beauty salons that sprang up like weeds in  every city, women cleaning floors and laying concrete. There was an  amazing cross section of America depicted in her work.

"I want to call it Working Girls, but everything is so politically correct these days, I'm kind of hesitant," she admitted.

"You can call it anything you want. You know, your work reminds me of a  combination of Gordon Parks, Moneta Sleet and Diane Arbus," Aneesah said  as she continued to peruse the pictures. "These are the ones that made  me cry," she added as she pushed a series of photographs across the  desk. They were all of disabled adults, some with Down syndrome, others  with different physical challenges. There was nothing sentimental or  glamorized about the shots; they were just realistic depictions that  gave the viewer another frame of reference for the subject. After  another lingering look, Aneesah turned her full attention to A.J.

"You know, I'm quite familiar with your work as well. I think anyone  who's ever picked up a fashion magazine is familiar with Alan Jay-you're  one of the best-known fashion photographers in the world. But I also  saw your film when it screened at the Detroit Institute of Arts. I was  moved by it, completely in awe. And you're from Detroit?"

A.J. smiled and assured her that he was indeed from Detroit. "Born and raised in Hamtramck, graduated from Cass Tech."

Aneesah smiled in return. "So did I. Graduate from Cass Tech, I mean."

They looked at each other for a long moment, and then Aneesah collected herself and went back to the matter at hand.

"Angelique, what I'd like to do is have your work featured in a special  exhibit. It's obviously too late for Black History Month since it's  already February, but I'm thinking about April," she said, consulting a  huge desk calendar. "Will that give you time enough to have prints ready  for sale?" When Angelique looked surprised Aneesah gave her a smile of  encouragement. "This is going to be an extremely successful exhibit,"  she said warmly. "This is going to be the start of something huge for  you. I'm very honored that we're going to be the first place to showcase  your remarkable talent."                       
       
           



       

She looked at the pictures on her desk and on the two easels and sighed  with satisfaction. "You know, you should be putting these into book  form. What you need is an agent," she said firmly.

A.J. grinned widely and leaned toward Aneesah. "Thank you so much for  saying that. I've told her the same thing several times. I'm glad she  heard it from an expert."