Learning Business in a Seedy Strip Club

The art of negotiation in an Arizona strip club

(Content warning: includes NSFW images)

We all learn the art of negotiation in different ways. Mine was at a strip club in Tucson, Arizona, October 1978. You might be thinking my life is at risk, negotiating with the bouncer for not tipping enough. I wish, would have been easy as a college student with minimal cash. No, I was in a photo class at the University of Arizona studying with world class photography professors. There was one guy, Harold Jones, he started world famous The Light Gallery in New York City, and despite his diminutive stature he knew how to get his class to listen up. One day, about a month into the class, he asked us to think about the hardest subject and to go make photographs of whatever that might be.

My professors at Davidson College's Center for Special Studies thought I was doing a photography externship at the University of Arizona... when I was really learning business in the dressing room of a seedy strip club. Tucson, Arizona. Fall 1978.

Always the shy kid, I just turned 21 a few months earlier. New in Tucson, I used to drive around in my Jeep Cherokee looking for interesting places to shoot. The exit off the I-10 on the way to my one-room apartment took me past a strip club. That was it! I came up with my photo challenge. My challenge: shoot documentary photos of the dancers in their dressing room. Just the thought was both daunting, and exhilarating.

I shot these images while working on a student documentary project at the University of Arizona’s Center for Creative Photography program. Tucson, Arizona. Fall 1978.

“Hi, I want to take pictures of your dancers”

I made a quick portfolio to show the front door guy. I clearly remember pulling up in the late afternoon, the tires crunching across the parking lot, small stones popping from the tires as the vehicle slid to a stop on the slippery gravel. Halfway through I wanted to turn around, my heart pounding, but the dust that enveloped the truck had a will of its own, pushing me inexorably towards the door, the late afternoon sun painting my shadow on the door as I reached my hand to pull open the well-worn handle. No going back now.

I shot these images on a 5 year old Nikon Nikkormat camera with a 50mm Nikkor lens. Tucson, Arizona. Fall 1978.

Standing before the bouncer in his rugged biker leather, my eyes adjusting from the afternoon light to the grungy interior, the smell of a thousand beers staining the floors and dance music pounding in the distance. He looked at me silently as I laid my portfolio on the counter. “Hi, I want to take pictures of your dancers.” His head tilted, but no words. “I’m a student at the university assigned a documentary project” as senseless babble spilled from my nervous lips. He listened then in a low voice said “I’ll check” as he disappeared through the double doors. Waiting, I scanned the room looking for a fast exit. Within a few minutes, the bouncer was back, with an almost dissapointed look on his face. “Yep, cool with the girls, go meet them. Second door on your right.”

Kodak black & white Tri-X was always my go-to film choice. Due to the “available darkness” in the dressing room, I pushed the exposure 2 stops for the low light resulting in the excessive grain. Tucson, Arizona. Fall 1978.

I knocked, the door opened just enough to see a female face, she opened it wide enough for me to slip in. “You want to take our pictures?” she said, wearing a ruby red halter dress and matching lipstick. I explained my story, told them I had no money but would share photos afterwards. She looked at another dancer doing a crossword puzzle. Turning back to me, with a somewhat sexy half-smile and a nod she said “Sure, good with us!”

The dancers asked several times if I would watch and critique their "performance" which made me really uncomfortable. I had never been in a strip club before... I wanted to only be in the dressing room, where the women could be people, not performers. As curious as I might have been, I was there to photograph them as who they were in between shows. Tucson, Arizona. Fall 1978.

Postscript: What a lesson! It wasn’t all easy going though. I photographed the dancers on two occasions and came back a 3rd time with a bunch of prints. One of the women who would not let me take her picture said “I apologize for being hard on you, I thought you were trying to take advantage of us, so many men do, but you kept your word.” I learned if you ask with integrity, explain your position, wear your heart on your sleeve, and deliver as promised, you will achieve your goals. Harold Jones, my photo professor, taught me more about business in that assignment than any business school. Lessons I carry with me today.

Technical: Nikon Nikkormat camera. 50mm Nikkor lens. Kodak Tri-X pushed 2 stops to 1600 ASA.