I'm much better in person.
I do really enjoy my Italian neighborhood here in Brooklyn; I could shoot for weeks within a five block radius. I’m sure fellow photographer James Mahon is missing the local hospitaliano just a bit (though he found an absolutely beautiful house.)
ABOVE: As protected as your house can get apparently.
I shot a story that is running in the April issue of Maxim, on the newsstand now. The editors of the magazine were given dance lessons by Cheryl Burke (above) from Dancing With the Stars; the whole thing was exactly as fun as it sounds. Wait, actually you can SEE how fun it was through the magic of video. Thanks to photo editor Stacey Pittman and all of the now expert salsa dancing editors. Special shout out goes to production director Amy Fritch, who made it to the final Dance Off. (DISLCAIMER: Amy and I went to school together and she has seen me at the height of my adolescent art school arrogance… which has luckily eroded away from years of humbling work in the field.)
Chris Knox, the pride of New Zealand, is one talented songwriter. Do a quick search and find some material to listen to; perhaps the best song to enter in on might be “Not Given Lightly” though hardcore fans might argue that. He had a stroke last year and the music pool reeled. Chris has inspired many and many wanted to give back. The result is a bunch of his friends (folks who’s music you already love; Yo La Tengo, Stephin Merrit Magnetic Fields, The Mountain Goats, Lambchop, The Bats…) got together and made one wonderful cover album called ‘Stroke.’ Click this link to hear samples of all the songs or simply buy the album.
Several of these artist as well as some more (New Zealand’s The Clean, Kyp Malone TV On The Radio and in a very rare appearance Jeff Magnum Neutral Milk Hotel) will be playing a sold out benefit here in NYC in May. The show sold out in minutes on Kickstarter, and the production costs are being kept very low so most of the (at last count) $40,500 will go towards Chris’ medical bills.
I had the pleasure of eating a delicious vegetarian dinner prepared by Chris and partner Barbara Ward at their home in Grey Lynn, Auckland a couple of years ago. The night ended with beers, watching shooting stars and listening to music until the wee hours. They’re both really gracious, wonderful people and I wish Chris the best as he continues to recover.
I know Chris would love the fact that this was posted on April Fool’s Day.
It seems like sacrilege to post such cold imagery on a 70F day in Brooklyn, but I just got these prints back yesterday so it’s back to The Process. I picked up the roll which must have taken me two months to shoot and as I leafed through the photos I wondered if I had already moved on from this system of making work. I mentioned before that as I discuss the making of the work more and more, I run the risk of becoming so self-aware that I destroy the chances of making good work in the future (using this method.)
I was relieved when I came to the above photo. Shooting slowly on film allows me to keep some mystery even to myself – I have no idea what the object in the photo is or what the spikes are surrounding it, to me it looks like a heart impaled on spikes. I certainly don’t even remember taking it. The scan doesn’t show the range of subtlety that the print has (in working with a variety of print sizes, I’m coming to the realization that the 4×6″ machine print is the initial way that I fall in love with the image and that’s they way it should stay.) Had I shot this with a digital point and shoot, the auto-flash would have been a lot stronger and probably killed the mood. Also I would have been dealing with the image immediately, instead of two months later and all mystery would be removed. I’m glad that the film stock determined the palate as well.
It’s exciting and it’s a winner. I hesitate including the additional shot below, though I do like the way they naturally pair together. But the photo above is way beyond it.
Finally there’s some fresh air here in Brooklyn, time to hit the streets and shoot.
I was listening to an interview with Broken Bells yesterday on Soundcheck on WNYC; Broken Bells is project comprised of James Mercer (lead singer of The Shins, above) and Danger Mouse. I photographed The Shins for Rolling Stone a few years ago and had a fantastic goofy time. Now I had people tell me I looked like James several times before actually meeting him so while I was at the shoot putting my camera together, I kept my face turned away from him and asked, “Hey James, when people say that you look like someone, who do they say you look like?” “I don’t know” he replied, “but I look like you.” Then we moved on to Kevin Spacey.
I shot in a tight space just six feet away from the reception desk in the Rivington Hotel. James was role-playing a therapist, taking notes while the rest of the band (three guys) squeezed in on a not-too-wide leather chez lounge. They were all lying on their backs, freely associating quite loudly while James nodded and wrote it all down. Guest were checking in (people who had no idea who The Shins are) while bandmates Marty and Jesse were yelling things that are listed below (see “Dr.” Mercer’s notes.) The Hotel was not happy. I’ve never laughed harder while shooting.
A year or two after that I ran into Marty (who is no longer with the band) out in Seattle at the SubPop 20th Anniversary festival and had a chat with him. He admitted seeing me from across the lawn and mistaking me for James (and this is someone he would see every day.)
The photograph above points to our similarities but I think more to our differences. And my strange bent fingers.
Polaroid SX-70 Sonar (auto-focus disabled) and expired Time Zero film.
These posted scans are references, the actual Polaroids have such subtlety, the palettes of the two are different in part due to the age of the film – you can scan this, rephotograph this or reproduce this but you will never be able to recreate the quality of the image on the surface of the print.
This is also to let you know that I don’t sit in my lair all day over-intellectualizing and articulating the process – nothing’s more engaging than shooting!
I’ve slowly become somewhat obsessed by the ‘before and after’ corresponding to the birth of the internet and ultimately what boils down to analog vs. digital time periods. Recently I found myself somewhat profoundly connecting with a scene from ‘Crocodile Dundee’ (1986) where the lead character finds himself trapped with the locals late at night in a NYC bar. Having lived in New York, pre-digital era, I was reminded of what that experience felt like. The doors might as well been locked because without cell phones, the people in the bar were your cast and crew for the evening; the deck you were being dealt from and you had to make something out of what (who) was there. This environment had the potential to force you into conversations or situations that you might not have expected you’d be involved in. There was an un(der)appreciated freedom to being truly unreachable and this wonderful feeling is probably best documented unintentionally in Hollywood movies of the time. With today’s digital disconnect, one may all too easily find themselves pressing a magic button to “phone a friend” instead of engaging in a conversation with your barstooled neighbor. And while the argument could be made that one could choose to leave their devices at home, who would? What a paradox – by disconnecting from your portable communication device you have a higher probability of truly connecting with someone. Relating this to the creative process, often times a lot more creativity can generated within parameters (“you have to make X within this radius, with these items, in this amount of time.”) When one has limitless possibilities it’s easy to get stymied, lazy or simply overwhelmed.
I’d like to say that I’m simply working to figure out what systems work best for me, so I can be happy (and connected) and make the best work that I can make – that I’m not making a value judgment. But that’s not really true. I’ve spent a good deal of time excitedly documenting people who make things and contribute culturally. I believe that cultural life is richer when people are truly connected and when there are parameters and hierarchies; when artists try to best each other without the constant distractions of remixed digital nostalgia. I have a vested interest in what the new guard generates, I want the bar to be just as high.
Currently I’m making decisions on how to present a body of work I made which documents NYC nightlife from 1994-2001, the period just before the internet and digital technology starting changing the idea of subcultures, presence and connectivity. More on that project as I develop it but this is definitely a lead in.
