UNEASY Margaret Atwood

We began making a real connection when I told her about my experience nine years earlier photographing Robertson Davies. I had never felt so unsure about how to approach a subject. What could he find interesting about an awkward 27-year-old photographer? Atwood told me that Davies could not have written such carefully and lovingly observed novels if he were not interested in people. And then she went on to tell me a funny story:

One day, a middle-aged film producer came to discuss a possible project, accompanied by his young mistress, whom Davies described as dowdy, unkempt, with tousled hair, little makeup, awkward shoes. And he told Atwood (with his wife standing next to him) that this was not what a mistress should be—she should have beautifully manicured hands and a glamorous hairstyle, and dress extravagantly. What else was a mistress for, if not her excess and decadence?

After sharing her funny story, with 15 minutes left, the session began again, and we made this interesting picture together.