By Connie Mabin
The Associated Press
CLEVELAND - Four-year-old Aaron Dudley is up on a sofa, mugging for the camera with a playful grin and twisted face, tiny biceps bulging in outstretched arms folded into a muscleman pose.
Hanging next to his photo is a close-up of his 10-year-old sister, Quartney Leonard. She's not smiling, her chubby cheeks are framed by a cascade of coal-black curls and her sad, dark brown eyes are a sign that the siblings aren't typical children.
Aaron and Quartney were homeless when Cleveland photographer David Hagen invited them, their brother and mother into his studio. . There they found professional lighting, cozy sets and the respect usually reserved for fashion models.
Gazing up at the picture recently at the opening of an exhibit of Hagen's work at Creative Impetus Gallery, Quartney was pleased.
"Because it's beautiful," she said softly, smiling.
That's exactly how Hagen wanted the girl and other homeless people he photographed over the past two years to feel.
At the hours-long shoots, Hagen provided breakfast, music and conversation. He photographed the subjects using professional lighting but in their own clothing and without professional hair styling or makeup.
Hagen, a commercial photographer, worked with advocacy groups to select subjects from Cuyahoga County's 26,000 homeless. His portraits have been compiled into a book, Face to Face, that Hagen hopes will break stereotypes and move people to help.
He photographed 34 people. Hagen and the Northeast Ohio Coalition for the Homeless, which helped print the book, hope people who see the pictures will donate time or money.
"I wanted to photograph the homeless population in a way that might make them look like you, your father, mother, brother, sister, friend or neighbor," Hagen said.
There are no grainy photographs of dirty men pushing a shopping cart full of tin cans down a big city street or panhandlers begging for change.
Instead, there are black-and-white and color portraits like that of Twila Felder, wearing denim overalls and a giant smile.
"Look at all that joy just busting out of me," Felder said as she proudly showed off the picture next to a more serious one.
They were taken two years ago, just before Felder says she sought help for crack and alcohol addiction that caused her to lose her Cleveland home.
"When I saw both of these pictures, I knew what I had to do. I had to go through the storm to reach sunshine," Felder said.
In the tiny gallery, Hagen's shots grace the walls and some hang by wire from the ceiling. There are children, families, middle-aged men and elderly women. Their faces are black and white; some wear scars and others show deep lines. All of them glow in warm studio light.
Hagen became involved when a friend picked up wedding portraits Hagen had shot. An advocate, she was sad about losing a grant for a planned calendar featuring Cleveland-area homeless people.
There was a personal connection: Hagen's brother was homeless for a time in Florida. So Hagen offered his camera and his time.
"My thought was I'd photograph them like I'd photograph my brother," Hagen says.