There will be many journal entries here concerning Guy Bourdin and this is one of them.
Not often but, Guy, occasionally, shot celebrities and personalities for Paris Vogue.
We were, originally, scheduled to travel together to London to take a few pictures of Francis Bacon but, for reasons I can't remember right now, I was detained. So, Guy, his girlfriend and his son, Samuel went on ahead without me. When I finally got on a plane late that afternoon bound for London, I realized I had left Paris with absolutely no information about where I was to meet them or where they were staying that evening. After landing in London late that evening, I frantically, tried calling the Vogue office multiple times but... too late. Everybody had gone home for the night, So, I rented a hotel room with my own money, had a bite to eat at some little diner in the neighborhood with my own money and headed back to the hotel for the evening. Keep in mind, when we went on trips, all my expenses were paid. As long as I was with the entourage, that is. So, I was a pissed off that, due to my own carelessness, I was paying out of my own pocket now.
Back at the hotel, I remember laying in my bed with the window open, listening to some old British rock and roll on a radio that was built into the furniture by the bed. All in all, things weren't so bad and I thought I was pretty cool fending for myself in a strange city. Next morning, I was back on the phone calling Paris for some info. Tate Gallery, they said. I jumped in one of those London black taxis and was on my way. Loved the taxi but, I arrived late, of course, and Guy was agitated thinking, all night, I hadn't made it to London, at all. I prepared his camera, a Nikon FM and he calmed down a little. Francis Bacon arrived shortly and the portrait session was underway. First with a roll of Polachrome and then, a roll of Ektachrome. When that was done, Bacon said he was done and the session was over.
I remember Guy's girlfriend, Martine asking Bacon what his favorite color was. At the time, I thought it was a stupid question. He said, "orange". Before he left, he did consent to signing his catalog for each of us.
Vogue printed one of the images from the roll of Polachrome.
It was all pretty worth it.