Getting a good photograph of the Little Monkey beaming one of his face-splitting smiles is a task akin to capturing a yeti’s likeness. Partly this is because Mrs. Monkeyshines and I are prone to parental cooing, which renders one somewhat helpless (as the appearance of a mythical man-beast might do, albeit for different reasons). But assuming one has the presence of mind to grab the camera, there’s a chance that in doing so, the Little Monkey’s attention will be diverted from the source of the amusement, killing the moment. If the Softly, Softly, Catchee Monkey technique for camera-getting is successfully applied, one then has to do similar in lining up the photo – if he clocks the camera, he’s liable to switch from smiling to stony-faced interest.
I tend to eschew flash photography, as a rule, as I find it washes out pictures and destroys colour (us English are already pallid enough); in any case, if there’s one thing sure to startle a baby, it’s a bright flashing light. My camera is sufficiently smart to alter the exposure, shutter speed etc. in imperfect light, but this exacerbates the last major obstacle, which is that a baby’s mirth is often a whole-body experience. Smiles can be accompanied by a giddily bobbing head and flailing limbs, and although it is, of course, wonderful to see such unrestrained glee, it makes for a blurry picture.
But we have, on average, 3.8 photographs for each day of the Little Monkey’s life – so eventually, probability kicks in, and that elusive yeti of a smile is committed to film (well, pixels), in addition to blissfully saccharine memories of Mrs. Monkeyshines and I. Marvellous. Even if he does look a bit like a ventriloquist’s dummy.
And finally, a pictorial aside, contrasting the abominable snowman with the adorable Little Monkey.
Leave a Reply