I went to Paris with Liz Smith (the fashion editor of the Observer) to photograph Yves St Laurent at his salon. We were told by Pierre Bergé his partner who was in charge of YSL, that he might not have time for the portrait sitting just as we arrived. The reception room was very sumptuous with rich red-wine velvet and gold chairs. I said to Liz “This is what I imagined a high-class Paris bordello would look like, but I never could afford to go to one. And besides the very idea scared me to death”. We both started laughing; our laughter was interrupted by the formidable figure of Pierre Bergé. Pierre looked at Liz, myself and my assistants with Napoleonic disdain as if to say who are these people?
Liz walked over and deferentially introduced herself trying to endear herself to him. Monsieur Bergé whispered something to her and took her into another room. My assistants and I waited bemused, I said to them “I don’t think this is going to happen he seems a bit up-tight with us to say the least” We all sat waiting in the luxurious silence of the temple of Yves Saint Laurent, trying to be reverent whilst suppressing the thought that this trip may be becoming a total fiasco.
After about 15mins Liz come back into the reception room, looked straight at me and leaned toward me and said in an urgent whispered tone “ We’ve only got fifteen minutes, they are going give us a room upstairs. You can’t say anything to Yves under any circumstances whatsoever, you will have to speak through Mr Bergé his interpreter”. I wondered how on earth I would direct Yves to be photographed the Pierre, as my French language skills were learned from Peter Sellers in the Pink Panther films, our day was not going well.
I had taken light readings moments before, but now time was the enemy, I shot a couple of polaroid’s. I would have liked to check them, but I had to carry on shooting because there was no time to do anything else. I was using a Hasselblad camera with their new magazine that they had just given me, when I had got to twelve shots Bergé exclaimed “A moment there is no film left in your camera Mr Arrowsmith” I replied ” Yes there is, this is a 24 shot magazine that Hasselblad has just brought out” He looked at me for a moment and then said ”Ah formidablé I must get one for my Hasselblad, such a wonderful camera. I am used to the 12 shot magazine, with mine”. I continued to shoot, the polaroids where developing on a chair behind me but I hadn’t had a chance to look at them to confirm that the exposure was right. Mr Bergé said “Can we see” and with some trepidation I peeled back the polaroid to reveal, to my great relief a perfectly exposed image. “Oh wonderful; Mr Bergé said showing it to Yves, who calmly nodded his approval.
“Can I take a couple more rolls?” I asked attempting to extend my time. By this time time Loulou De La Falaise the muse of YSL appeared from behind me. Unbeknown to me she had been there all the time, “Oh Hello Loulou” I said, “How are you, long time no see. The Paris collections 1971 I think?” (and that is a whole other blog post!). Seizing the moment I said, “Can I take some shots of Loulou and Yves together? “Fine” said Mr Bergé who seemed calmer now he knew, I knew what I wad doing. I was glad to have managed to extend the time by proving my competency and I finished the shoot just as Yves looked as if he was getting slightly tired of it all. “One last shot” I said and that frame is the picture at the top of the page.
- Clive Arrowsmith is still shooting stunning images, staging exhibitions and is as passionate about photography as he was when he first pressed the shutter at The Paris Collections. He is available for global media opportunities related to his work and photography generally. Bespoke prints from Clive’s archive are also available by special request, for any enquiries (email Eugenie here). Clive’s book Arrowsmith: Fashion, Beauty & Portraits is available here and Lowry at Home: Salford 1966 is available here