Six Feet From Me: Charlotte photographer explores coronavirus distancing, discomfort
Kevin Hooper knows not to ask for a smile.
The Charlotte photographer has witnessed too often what comes next. Forced, awkward faces no one would ever actually make in real life.
Who would have thought a pandemic would bring out more genuine grins?
“For once in life, saying smile actually does get good smiles out of people, because they realize the ridiculousness of them smiling with this mask in front of their face,” Hooper said. “So you actually get genuine smiles when you say smile.”
Hooper’s seen a lot of smiles lately, even if they are behind masks. He’s photographed almost 20 people so far for his pandemic portrait series Six Feet From Me, which he’s been sharing on Instagram and Reddit.
Hooper initially reached out to friends for the series but has branched out as the project has grown. His subjects so far include an artist, an arborist, a construction worker, a hair stylist, a restaurateur, a mechanic, an urban farmer, a bike shop owner and others.
Despite the diverse backgrounds and careers of those photographed, they share one thing in common — all of us do, Hooper said.
“There are people all over the spectrum who feel different ways about different things, but I think we’re all uncomfortable,” Hooper said. “I felt like doing something that talked about that. Doing something that kind of tried to highlight the overarching common theme of discomfort.”
Hooper was in a period of discomfort himself before starting the project. His mother passed away from lung cancer in late February, and Hooper — like most everyone else — was quarantined at home soon after to help stop the spread of the novel coronavirus COVID-19.
How safe Hooper felt at any given moment fluctuated according to the information he was taking in from the news or social media. And while he was seeing a lot of division and differing opinions online, he felt that a core level of discomfort was something we all shared during COVID-19.
“The idea was to kind of poke at that discomfort a little bit, the way a doctor does,” Hooper said. “I think it’s good to say, ‘Hey, we’re uncomfortable here.’ And then on the other side of that coin, at least attempting to soothe that discomfort by opening a conversation about it, by normalizing it visually.”
For about a week and a half, Hooper debated over whether he should do the project. He wanted to make sure he could do so in a responsible and safe manner, without encouraging others to break recommendations for social distancing to help stop the spread of the coronavirus.
The very nature of the project, however, keeps him at distance from those in the photographs. He also wears a mask and takes care to sanitize all gear and anything used in the shots.
“I felt that I could be responsible and do this,” he said. “I’m yet to go inside anyone’s personal space right now. And that’s been an artistic guideline of this. I wanted to adhere to staying out of your personal space because no one is coming in your personal space right now. Or they shouldn’t be.”
Hooper acknowledges that even something so innocuous as a person coming toward you on a sidewalk can be stressful these days. And yet when he’s approached random people about the project, he’s been met with enthusiasm.
Hooper recently photographed Darion Fleming, the artist who painted the Purell mural in NoDa. After that shoot, he decided to venture into uptown, where he found a construction worker who was open to doing a shoot on his lunch break. Seeing this, a group of nearby co-workers from an uptown office wanted to be photographed, as well.
“We’re all kind of suspicious of each other right now, you know,” Hooper said. “But at the same time, I think everybody is longing for a connection because everybody is starved for it right now.”
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As for himself, Hooper admits that he will be interested to look back on all of this to see what kind of coping he was doing after his mother’s passing. “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what this whole experience would have been like had she been here,” Hooper said. “Her passing and many other things that have happened in my personal life have created this kind of season of just provision.”
Hooper isn’t sure what the final form of the project will be. A book? A gallery? It’s possible, but for now he’s simply focused on taking powerful photos and sharing personal stories. Think yours is too mundane or boring? No such thing, according to Hooper.
“I’m going to keep going as long as I feel it’s a representation of life.”
Related note: Send us your mask selfies — we want to see your quarantine fashion, Charlotte. Email pictures to charlottefive@charlottefive.com and tell us where you got your mask and what made you choose that fabric/retailer/etc.
