Behind the Lens

Yes, rows of big silver hoops line his ears and, yes, he’s rocking his signature black Panama hat and, yes, he’s punctuating his words with his jewelry-laden hands but that’s just Jerry on any given day. Today, as he shoots members of the Nevada Ballet Theatre for an exhibit he’ll show in fall, the cause of the stares is a message T-shirt — three paragraphs long.

The overall message isn’t important, a Hallmark philosophy on winners with a predictable punch line about losers; it’s the length of time it takes to read the thing. The commercial fashion photographer knows how to get attention and keep it.

Take his Studio 54 shots, for example. The one featuring multiple images of a leggy, dancing blonde in a pink mini enjoyed a prominent presence around town from ’98 through ’06. Cars slowed down for eight years on Tropicana Avenue to take in the image a little longer. It’s not just billboards for Studio 54, Tangerine and Social House, either. Between the editorial shots and the advertisements, Metellus’ photos occupy a healthy chunk of pages in every fashion glossy in town. Simply said, where fashion photography is concerned, he owns Vegas.

But tell him that and the New York-born Haitian-American will only reply with surprise. He does the same when told every local, aspiring model dreams of pouting in front of his camera and every photo assistant wants nothing more than to fetch his Starbucks order. “I couldn’t believe that,” he said with a sincere expression. “No really. Come on, people don’t say things to your face that they say behind your back.”

Metellus’ seemingly sincere “get outta here!” reactions to such potentially ego-inflating statements either result from his performance background (acting and dancing) or a genuine modesty. Most who know him would say the latter.

“It’s really rare to find a photographer who doesn’t think it’s all about him,” said Melissa Conner, a makeup artist whose credit usually appears right below Metellus’ in magazine spreads. “I’ve never once heard Jerry say, ‘I’m the one with the vision.’ He realizes we all have a vision.”

Metellus owned his first camera at age 5. Big wheels and play guns may have intrigued the other kids but he had another toy. He completely took apart one within the first five minutes he had it, exposing the film and his mind to the tool that would one day become an essential part of his life. “When you’re really into photography there’s something about holding a new camera,” Metellus said. “There’s a feeling that goes through you.”

The same goes for his subjects on the other side of his camera. There’s a feeling he gives them that creates the difference between a dull shot and a dynamite one.

Today, as Metellus instructs Grigori Arakelyan, a young ballet dancer, onlookers watch as the photographer manages to strip him of his inhibitions. The shot calls for a jump with a pose that has him touching the back of his head with his toe.

“Give me a yell,” Metellus instructs his model as he snaps his camera.

The ballet dancer launches into the pretzel pose with a stoic expression, no yell. He does it again in silence.

“Nice. Yes, yes, beautiful. Now, perform with your face a little more. Give me a good yell when you do it!” Metellus shouts, adding a loud “Aaaaaahhh!” of his own as an example.

On the ballet dancer’s third jump he finally lets go. “Aaaaaahhh!” he shouts out as he jumps with a look on his face that matches the craze in his scream. Metellus and crew huddle around the monitor that shows the image he just took. Got it. Call in the next dancer.

“I’ve watched him so many times on the set with someone just starting out, or a model who just broke up with a boyfriend or a celebrity with a lot of insecurities,” Conner said. “No matter who it is, when they leave Jerry’s studio they feel good, they feel talented, sexy. They feel worthy.”

Although he’s lived all over the world — New York, Haiti, Canada, Japan, Paris, the San Francisco Bay area — Metellus’ transient nature was halted here nine years ago by a little thing called love. It’s made for a different outlook on the globe-trotting residences. “I’m a package deal now,” he said of his now wife and two daughters.

That said, Metellus has been going back and forth between Los Angeles and Vegas to pursue his new career goal: shooting celebrities. He’s gone so far as hiring an agent in Tinseltown. So far Metellus has had the opportunity to work with Jerry Seinfeld and Paula Abdul, who he shot for the cover of TV Guide that ran last week. Would he consider moving the package deal to L.A.? “If that should happen, it happens,” he said. “But now I have three bosses.”

Metellus’ departure would mean serious changes for the commercial fashion photography industry in Vegas. The billboards, the magazines, the presence that is the attention-getting and attention-keeping Jerry Metellus would be gone. “I definitely, definitely feel like, unless someone new came to town, there would be a void here,” Conner said. “Not that there aren’t fun, cool photographers to work with now but [Metellus] is a staple in Vegas.”

And for that reason, local models, hair and makeup artists, photo assistants, stylists, advertisers and editors are all crossing their fingers that L.A. treats Metellus well, but not that well.