YELLOW DJINN is who I really want to be. A graceful spirit manifest in the flesh of a hot little body. A magic-maker, wish-granter, scene-stealer. Pure verve and gleeful energy. Who wouldn't want to be a magical being?
I had conceived the Yellow Djinn in great detail in advance, down to the patterning of the face makeup and the idea that he'd have long fingernails and toenails. I painted myself yellow because I had a surplus of yellow body makeup and because I thought the color would make an aptly garish combination with the purple costume pieces I was assembling. I shaved my head and glued on a topknot that I had fashioned out of synthetic extension hair that is used for African-style braiding. I used prosthetic pointed ears. I was thrilled with the visual results and thrilled by the sensation of being physically transformed. The elation inspired me to some poses and expressions that surprised even me in their range and the specific way that they seem to articulate the character.
My dictionary defines djinn as "one of a class of spirits that according to Muslim demonology inhabit the earth, assume various forms and exercise supernatural power; a supernatural spirit that often takes human form and serves his summoner" -- in other words, a genie. My visual influences included the illustrations of Howard Pyle and Edmund Dulac for Arabian Nights-style stories and the original 1924 silent film of The Thief of Baghdad (in which Douglas Fairbanks spends a good part of the movie leaping and strutting about shirtless in voluminous harem pants). Because I am often disdainful of over-commercialized pop culture, especially that which is peddled to children, I'm a little chagrined to note that there's more than a passing resemblance to the genie character in the Disney Aladdin. He's got a bald head with top knot, no typical genie turban, and a curly motif in his beard and mustache. Oh well. At least I'm yellow and he's blue.
In the third image I used something called powdered smoke, purchased at a magician's supply shop. Put a match to about half teaspoonful and it shoots off a dense plume of smoke that lasts about ten seconds. Of course it was interesting to try and coordinate this with the self-timer on my camera. After about eight shots, the smoke alarms were blaring and the house smelled as though it had been the site of a Civil War reenactment. The phone rang. I don't normally answer the phone when I'm shooting, but I was worried that a neighbor might be calling to say that the house was burning down. But it was a coworker calling to wish me a happy birthday (it was my 41st).
I said "OhthanksforcallingI'mkindofinthemidddleofsomething" click.
Images created September 1, 1998
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