BLEMMIES: Frequently-Asked Questions

What are Blemmies?

Blemmyae (or Blemmyes) are a mythical tribe with no heads, whose faces are on their chests. They were believed to live in Africa, sometimes described as cannibals, and were most likely based on an actual African tribe of the same name (who were neither headless nor cannibalistic). Blemmyes were written about in ancient and medieval European manuscripts, and are the subject of medieval woodcuts (such as the one at right) in which, despite being African, they are portrayed with light skin and Caucasian features. “Blemmies” is my affectionate modern nickname for them.

Why did you choose this subject matter?

I’ve always been interested in old maps — particularly from the era in which much of the world had not yet been explored, and unknown areas were labeled with notations such as “Here be dragons” — so I came to know about the Blemmyae many years ago. How they made the leap from the back of my mind to the front of my mind I can’t say; but in any case, it occurred to me that making photos of modern-day Blemmies would be a perfect project: Not only would it draw attention to the capabilities of Photoshop (which I was teaching to college students at the time), but it would also give me the opportunity to collaborate creatively with the people I’d be photographing.

Did you take the photos yourself? If so, where?

I took the photos in my house. I’m not a frequent photographer, so I don’t have anything resembling a professional photographic setup. I shot my models against a seamless paper backdrop, which (since I don’t have a proper stand for the giant roll of paper) ended up looking kind of crinkly — but that’s okay; the crinkles added some variety to the background. I used a relatively inexpensive point-and-shoot digital camera; the lighting was provided by household lamps. The low lighting required a relatively long exposure time, so I mounted the camera on a tripod and asked the models to hold very still.

Did the face and body of each Blemmie come from the same person?

Yes. During a photo session, I shot the model’s body first, and downloaded the best shots to a laptop computer. Then, when I was ready for the face shots, I displayed two windows side by side on the computer screen: a body shot on the left, and live video from the camera’s viewfinder on the right. This allowed me to direct the model so that his or her head position and facial expression matched the body on which the face would later be superimposed.

How long did you spend working on each image in Photoshop?

Usually about eight hours. In addition to the obvious tasks of removing each person’s head, cleaning and sculpting their upper body, and applying the face, I did many things that (I hope) are not noticeable: For example, I almost always combined body pieces from a variety of photos — an arm from this photo, a leg from that one. (That’s because things that look graceful or natural for a headed person often look unnatural once the head is removed, so I had to restore a look of naturalness by means of quite unnatural techniques.) Because my attention during the photo shoots was on the model’s body and not on the props, I occasionally re-photographed props (or pulled them from stock images) and added them in later.

Who are the models?

They’re friends who volunteered. It was more difficult than I expected to find people to be models. Some people were uncomfortable with the degree of undress required, and others just thought the whole idea was too weird. So I’m especially thankful to my artistically free-spirited friend Julie Cornett, who was the first model to pose as a Blemmie.

Where did you get ideas for the poses?

Usually from the models themselves. I tried to shoot each model doing something he or she does in real life — for example, cooking, woodworking, yoga, or playing a musical instrument — in the hope that their comfort with that activity would carry over to the Blemmie they would become. Other poses came from my own ideas about how Blemmies would have to adapt everyday activities to their unique physical requirements. For example, my friend Julie is a musician, so I wanted to shoot her playing a guitar, but I realized that a normal-sized guitar would cover too much of the Blemmie’s face. I decided to look for a ukulele, but eventually found something even better — a miniature six-string guitar — which is what a Blemmie guitarist would most likely play.

Why did you want to make such creepy images?

It actually bothers me when people refer to the Blemmie photos as creepy, sick, or disturbing. I guess their unusual appearance takes some getting used to, but I’ve come to think of them as regular people who face some challenges dealing with an unusual body type, and who also have to deal with prejudice from headed humans. I tried to imbue my Blemmie photos with compassion and humor. It was always an interesting process when my models and I tried to look at life from the point of view of a Blemmie, and figure out how that Blemmie would accomplish activities that the rest of us take for granted. There are still some things I don’t know: How do they hear? How do female Blemmies nurse their babies? How do nearsighted Blemmies correct their vision? I suppose these questions will remain unanswered until I meet an actual Blemmie.