Photographer Robert Zuckerman doesn’t “take” pictures, “capture” images or even “shoot” film. “Photography traditionally has an aggressive and acquisitive language,” he says. “I learned early on to say ‘let’s make a photo together,’ so it’s people on both sides of the camera collaborating.” Collaborators in his current show, Portraits, at Santa Monica’s Edgemar Center for the Arts, happen to be some of the most famous faces in the world – Al Pacino, David Bowie, Morgan Freeman, Denzel Washington, all people he’s worked with over 10 years in the film business.



“There’s a certain essence that he captures,” says curator Michelle Danner. “He tells the story of the person’s life by taking their portrait.” However, back in his studio days, Zuckerman considered himself a gun for hire. On set he would shoot only what he thought the studio wanted, and when it came time to shoot portraits, he would watch the movie and try to capture the essence of the character more than the actor.



David Bowie: ‘It’s people on both sides of the camera collaborating’, Zuckerman says. Photograph: Robert Zuckerman/Edgemar Center for the Arts

“The whole point of is to try to honour it, if it’s associated with a specific project,” he says. “I approach it like a film job with my still camera. So I always kind of regarded it as an acting job. So the actors really kind of appreciated that and are able to be more natural.”



One actor who didn’t appreciate it was Faye Dunaway on the set of the 1993 thriller The Temp. She consistently shooed him away during rehearsals, promising him a later take that never seemed to materialise. Finally, one night between setups, he heard her calling his name from across a darkened soundstage and followed her voice. “I find her draped on this camera dolly. She’s wearing this skirt and the legs,” he says of the photo in which Dunaway looks absently at the floor, her skirt raised to mid-thigh, legs crossed, her feet in high heels. In a chance encounter a few years later he reminded her of the hard time she gave him on the shoot. She replied, “I know. I’m a real pain the ass.”



Faye Dunaway: ‘I’m a pain in the ass.’ Photograph: Robert Zuckerman/Edgemar Center for the Arts

Denzel Washington was another prickly customer, with a list of demands including shooting during rehearsal only, not during takes, and to stay out of his sightline. While it was rough going at first, Washington eventually came to appreciate Zuckerman’s work and the two collaborated on six movies, including Training Day, for which the actor won an Oscar. The film’s poster, featuring Washington as sociopathic detective Alonzo Harris, is one of Zuckerman’s photos.



There’s a portrait of Brandon Lee, son of martial arts legend Bruce Lee, who died tragically on the set of the 1994 action-fantasy film The Crow when he was accidentally shot in the stomach. In the scene, Lee arrives home to find his fiance being attacked. Actor Michael Massee shot Lee with a .44 Magnum that was mistakenly loaded with live ammunition.



“I noticed in the rehearsal he fell one way, and through my lens I saw in the actual take that he fell another way,” Zuckerman recalls. “They yelled ‘cut’ 10 seconds later and Brandon didn’t get up. And the medic who was there was immediately on him and examined him and said, ‘He’s got an abdominal wound. Call 911.’”



Morgan Freeman: Zuckerman wonders whether Hollywood star power is waning. Photograph: Robert Zuckerman/Edgemar Center for the Arts

Zuckerman stopped working in the film business in 2003 when he was diagnosed with a rare nervous condition known as adult polyglucosan body disease. Only 50 people are known to suffer from the genetic ailment, which creates reduced sensation in the legs and loss of muscle control. “Hollywood in all its glory stopped calling me now I’m in a wheelchair, even though my photography’s better than ever,” he says. “But that’s just life. I was forced to retire so I could get my pension and disability.”



Living and teaching in Miami, he wonders if Hollywood isn’t in the final phase of the age of the icon when box office is waning and the few hits that remain are driven more by special effects than star wattage. “I guess money talks,” he says. “I think certain people can still sell a movie: Johnny Depp, maybe Will Smith. Even he hasn’t had that great a track record last couple of films. I don’t know.”



Nor does he seem to care. His Hollywood days are over. In the past he had gallery openings hosted by Jada Pinkett-Smith and Michael Chiklis, but last week at Edgemar there were none of the people he had photographed. Two days after the opening, he returned to Miami, where he’s a dean’s fellow at Florida International University and works with kids in the public school system.



“He refuses to be defined or defied by this illness,” says Danner, who has known Zuckerman for over 10 years and has hosted numerous exhibits of his work at Edgemar. “It’s truly unbelievable to see his spirit. He remains so positive and so energetic throughout this, and he remains prolific in his art.”