COMING SOON 

from POWERHOUSE BOOKS

 

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 1978. Tucked away in the Ozarks, an old school bus set on cinder-blocks had been hollowed out and then set up with a couple of tables, a refrigerator with beers for a dollar each, and a little stage where this girl did her strip act.

1974 - Tallahassee, Florida

CARNY - 1975

In 1979 I was living in an old second floor walk-up hotel that nobody else had lived in for thirty some years.  Just me and eighteen funky rooms downtown in a small Missouri city.  A guy I knew at a photo agency in Los Angeles told me if I made set-up crime photographs he could sell them to magazines, True Crime, and stuff like that.  I knew a few of the downtown denizens who, like me at the time, were a bit off kilter, so I invited them to bring a date and a weapon over to my place and we could get loaded and have an axe murder party, make some photographs.  One of the guys, a Vietnam vet, got a little overzealous and beat up his girlfriend the night before, so she’d look the part.  I always felt bad about what happened but I figure he would have found another reason to beat her anyway so I live with it.

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When I was a little kid I used to like playing around with my pop’s photography equipment.  The coolest thing was the flashbulbs.  They were the same size as a regular light bulb and filled with spidery filaments. They screwed into a circular reflector and they made a pop when they fired.  My grandmother, Mamaw, lived upstairs.  She was perpetually nervous and it was great fun to sneak up behind her and scream LOOK OUT.  One time I changed all her light bulbs with flash bulbs.  She yelped each time she flipped a switch and I couldn’t stop giggling.  I was kind of an asshole but she seemed to love me anyway.

When I made this exposure nearly thirty years ago full-body tattoos were unusual.  Looking at it now the impact has softened with time.  I remember riding up an elevator with the tattooed woman in the hotel where we were in San Diego.  There was an all-american family stuck with us for the ride, mom and dad and two bland children.  I don't remember what my tattooed model was talking about but she kept saying motherfucker, loudly, until the little family unit scrunched away from us into a corner.  In the room, with just the two of us, she didn't say it anymore.  I hope she has kept her edge over the years but I also hope she has lost some of her anger toward dorks.

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Domenico Foschi

Fine art street photography is more popular than ever before.  If you are one of the few that started making exceptional urban exposures in the sixties and probably went hungry to buy film, then in all likelihood you’ve got a passel of museum and gallery shows, and the prints are selling at a premium you never dreamed of.  But if you’re an exceptional street photographer, maybe even better at it than some of the old farts, you’re lucky to get a show of any kind, and even with a show you’re not likely to sell anything because the only people who can afford it are the collectors and they require a pedigree.

Domenico Foschi’s street photos are way better than the millions of photos taken every day by the rest of the world, and he is not just another guy who does it on weekends putting his nine to five out of mind for a couple of days.  He is a talented and dedicated full-time artisan who still shoots black and white film with an old manual Leica and a single lens.  I’ve asked Domenico to share some of his images and along with that  I’ve asked him a single question: Why do you do it?

Why do I do Photography?
I do it because I cannot do anything else, photography is an integral part of me. The more you feed an artistic approach the more that activity becomes you.
The end to taking photographs is to keep taking photographs, only better.

I do it because I have already had a nine to five job for 17 years that I quit 6 years ago, and the memory of that job is always there with me like a rabid dog breathing at the back of my neck.
 
I do it because the doubts, the pain, the fear, the hardship that I go through are probably necessary in order for me to dig deeper and produce better photographs.

Why do I do street photography?
First of all I don't like using the term Street Photography.   It is too restrictive, it leads people to think that a photograph should be of a particular character.

I also use the term Street Photography for my workshops, but one of the first things I tell the students is to free their minds from any restriction the term might suggest and use the urban landscape and ANYWHERE THEY MIGHT BE WITH A CAMERA, as a treasure chest full of instances that will trigger something inside of them. It is also perfectly OK to be inspired by the street interpreted "traditionally", but it is important to always do it with a degree of  honesty.

Looking at today's Street Photography's "landscape" I have noticed a lack of individuality and I can notice a lot of struggle by part of the photographers to find their own voice.  I believe this happens precisely because of the restrictive nature of the term "Street Photography". The term, I believe, forces the photographer to work with a set of stereotypes that are the results of the examples of what has been done before.

I find that photographers who roamed the streets in the past century( and this is probably true for artists in general ), were far freer than contemporary photographers. There was very little labeling, no google searches and no need for photographers to box themselves in a genre, or at least not at the extent we do it now.  

At the end what makes our work unique or at least important are our fears, our anger, our doubts, our nightmares, our own convictions, and our own irony and sense of humor. If we apply these values to the images, then our work will be unmistakably ours.
 I understand,  this approach initially is not an easy one. It is based almost completely on improvising, which requires confidence in our ability to recognize valuable moments, and trust in Life's generosity in providing those moments, but that is the most important lesson if someone wants to create important photography.

So, the reason why I do what I do now is creative but also psychological.  My photography has always been based on personal psychological demands, it has been a tool that has been needing sharpening through the years as I progressed and explored different subject matter and approaches.
At the end, the apparent subjects in my photographs are merely a pretext, They are devices chosen in order to show facets of a fragmented self.

You can see more of Domenico’s work here: Domenico Foschi

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LIVE NUDE GIRLS - Hollywood, Ca.  1987

I paid fifty dollars to photograph these two nude models.  The one on the right had fun and the one on the left had zero enthusiasm.

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My Pop - 1972

 In the sixties, when I was an adolescent, my father had a photography studio in the Missouri Ozarks.   He shot a lot of weddings and payed me fifteen bucks to go along and hold an extra strobe light with a car-battery-sized battery on a strap.  The flash had a doohickey that tripped my light from the strobe on the camera, so I walked around hitting people with flattering highlights.  The weddings were mostly done in dumbass churches so while my dad was time-exposing the ceremonies I would take one of the twin-lens Rolleiflex’s out to the car and photograph a dime store picture we had of Jesus, a very nice looking guy by the way; leading-man material. My pop had spray-painted a portion of the picture black and matched it up  with a homemade vignette on the camera lens then double-exposed, the bride and groom in a soft candlelight pose with Jesus, that handsome devil, looking down on their nuptials from heaven above.  My pop sold a lot of those shots.  He had a whole arsenal of goofy gimmicks that kept Sothern’s Studio flush and our lifestyle cushy.  I could have stayed there and inherited the studio, lived a comfortable life.  At my age you sometimes look back at the missed opportunities and regrets, but in this instance it’s nice to know I made the right decision.

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Guy With Budweiser - 1975

I don't remember making the exposure above but I'm glad I did.

Had a great time last night at the Hoop Dreams Comedy Show that Austin Wolf-Sothern & Doug Freedman put on once a month at the Neon Venus Theater in Hollywood.  I haven't laughed that much since last month's show.  I'll be writing more about that at a later date.
I’m sad for the people who got blown-up in Boston but I’m happy I live in America instead of one of those countries where drones blow-up people with more regularity. 

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Photo by Kelly Rae Daugherty

I spend a lot of time looking at other people's pictures when I should be doing other things but it's worth it.  I've been looking at Kelly Rae Daugherty's pictures for a year or so and I like them a lot.  They’re familiar like they live in the back of my mind somewhere in the way-past and at the same time they are unique, this is not something I’ve seen before.  I especially like her studio work.

I wanted to know more about Kelly and she was gracious enough to answer some of my questions and share some of her photographs.

 For me, your work seems somehow synonymous with the fact that you live in San Francisco.  Have you always been there or did you escape from somewhere in middle America and how do your roots inform your work?
San Francisco has a strong aesthetic character due to its geography, allowing the people who live here to resonate their personal uniqueness which adds to the over-all feel of the area. It is only natural that my photography captures this aesthetic, especially with my street photography.

With my studio work, it may be the whole cultural and historical experience of living in San Francisco for the past eighteen years which has rubbed off on me. This includes the amazing history of photographers who have lived in the Bay Area: giants like Ansel Adams and Edward Weston, Imogen Cunningham and Anne Brigman. These photographers who were involved with creating Group f/64  were a tour de force in defining the role of photography which is emphasized in the permanent collection at the San Francisco MOMA and through the art history classes at the San Francisco Art Institute.

I was fortunate to get into The San Francisco Art Institute’s painting program in 2002. I became intrigued with photography during my first year and decided to study analog photography with Henry Wessel Jr.  The photography department was created by Ansel Adams in 1945, so you can imagine how it felt to walk into the department every week knowing that I was standing in the same space created by this iconic photographer of the past. It took about two weeks of getting used to the camera then I fell in love with the medium of photography instantly. Once I started taking pictures, I never stopped, and now I have been taking pictures for over ten years, and I am still intrigued by the medium, especially in the realm of exploring portrait photography which has been the emphasis of my work from the beginning. 

Of course my past, prior to coming to San Francisco, has also played a major role in my subject matter. I grew up in a small town in upstate New York.  A high security prison runs the main employment of the town, so there was a feeling of oppression for me and it seemed like a lot of unhappy people. In my mid-twenties I had had enough of the prison mindset, so I decided to take my last three hundred dollars to buy a train ticket cross country to Eugene, Oregon. I hitchhiked some of the way, and as you can imagine I had some fairly interesting experiences and meetings with people along the way. I lived in Eugene, Oregon for two years before I decided to move to San Francisco. The living experiences I have had on the West Coast have been colorful!  I believe these experiences have allowed me to be a type of chameleon in a positive sense, allowing me to be open-minded, helping me to see the picture whether that be a street, location, or studio image. 

 

 Seems your social conscious is up front for everybody to see, though subtle and without anger.  Do you think your politics inform your work?  Do you feel you have an agenda or is it just that who you are comes out in the work? 

I  do not have an agenda though some of my images are socially charged. I have had some intense and defining, personal experiences in my life that have been released visually through my work over the years,  mostly to let off steam in order to heal from these intense experiences. I have found a great amount of healing by expressing myself through the medium of photography. It is a great tool for deciphering one’s own deeper concepts which may be too constrained by expressing one’s experiences through words. I enjoy reflecting on certain past images and revisit some photos often. I am grateful to have them, for images are powerful, and they convey a deeper understanding of our human psyche. It is a collective bank of seeing where we were, who we were, and where and who we are now. That is a powerful and insightful tool for knowing oneself which is a strong platform to allow one to broaden their artistic vision.

I love your studio lighting, where did you pick it up?  Where did your passion for lighting come from? 

I taught myself lighting. It was difficult at first, but after a year, I got the hang of seeing light and shadow. I was amazed at how difficult it was to see studio lighting through a camera. For the first year, I would load up my photos and see  the shadows and lights on my model were all wrong, so I would go back to the next studio session and try to fix those mistakes, and of course more would pop up. Through trial and error, I was able to develop the aesthetic I was trying to achieve, and during that time,  I also studied a lot of old photos, especially studio shots from the 1920’s which spurred me to try to recreate the feel of an old photo so much that it would be hard to tell the difference. The concept of messing with time within an image has always intrigued me, and lighting a subject can help explore that facet within an image. Currently, I am still exploring new ways of using light and shadow with my models.

Your pictures are very theatrical and dramatic, is that a reflection of life as you see it, or something more glamorous like life as we dream it?

My studio work allows me to be more creative.  I love using my imagination on the spot to create. I try not to read too much into what I am doing while I am creating and just see where it takes me.
I learn a lot more about myself in that way. The drama may come out with our poses due to being in a created space. Also, many of the models I work with are artists too. There is a lot of collaboration. They have wonderful vision.

What is your ultimate goal as an artist working in photography?
My ultimate goal is to keep creating, keep discovering and keep building on my work. Every year I realize that I see something in a new way through the photograph.

Anything you’d would like to say?
Thank you. It is great to be an artist!

Thank You Kelly.
http://www.kellydaughertyphotography.com/

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 1978.  Stalled in traffic.  This girl knows I’m watching.  She’s around sixteen years old and wants to give me a hard-on.  She turns her head away to show me she doesn’t care even though I think she cares very much.  I’m twenty-nine years old and trying to decide whether to take out my dick or pick up my camera.  I wonder about the guy up front, driving.  Her father?  Has he ever looked at her the way I’m looking at her? Is he the why of her promiscuity?  Would he come out of the car swinging a tire-iron if he knew what she is doing to me and what I’m doing to her?  I’m in no hurry for traffic to start up again.

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Just found out a guy I was friends with in junior high and high school died in 2011.  Also found out he had left the Ozark hills behind and lived within thirty minutes of me here in sunny Southern California for the last thirty years.  I vaguely remember someone telling me a while back that he lived out here and he’d had multiple sclerosis.  I never bothered to look him up because I didn’t think I really cared, though now that he is dead I kind of do care and feel like I fucked up.  I’ve been seeing more and more people dropping dead which is just one of the drawbacks of aging.  I remember a time we would defy death, double-dare it to come and fucking get us.  Now the idea of nonexistence terrifies me as I watch it growing closer.  I guess I’m just glad I lived long enough to become the person I am, though I would have been a better person if I had contacted my friend before he died.

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Friday night PBS American Masters is doing a show on Philip Roth, the greatest living American writer of fiction, at least in my opinion.  I don’t think a lot of younger people, for me that’s under forty, read Roth because he’s an old fart, and I think more than a few baby boomers don’t read Roth because all they really know is that he wrote Portnoy’s Complaint, a long time ago, and it was funny and controversial, a long time ago.  So if you’re looking for a good read sometime check out Roth’s American Pastoral or the Human Stain, two brilliant books he wrote when he was an old fart way past the preceived age of relevance.

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The picture above is by Stacy Kranitz.  I posted a link on Facebook a while ago about the her photography and I plan to post more stuff at a later date.  I met her last week and it was a very good day.  I’m not really posting pictures this time but rather a film she made.  It's visually beautiful and ninety minutes long.  If you stay with it, it will stay with you and that's a good thing. There is an openness of both subject and artist along with a compelling indictment of the good old US of A. I find it a little scary that so much of it seems familiar and I had fun watching it.  From The Study On Post-Pubescent Manhood.

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It’s been ten years since the United States invaded Iraq and everybody agrees it was the wrong thing to do but what I don’t understand is why so many people still insists that the military boys and girls made a great sacrifice for us.  They made a great sacrifice of themselves for nothing that is good, in fact it was all for evil.  For the first five years there were troops who joined-up with Uncle Sam during peace times, hoping to learn a trade or get an education.  They got fucked, they didn’t sign up for blood and guts; they never thought they’d have to pull a trigger for real.  But still, they didn’t do it for me, they sure as hell didn’t do it to protect us in our daily life of abundance.  They are not heroes.  Any poor sap sent someplace they don’t really want to go, or know better, terrified of getting blown to bits at any minute and then gets blown to bits, is unfortunate to say the least, but not a fucking hero.  If we remember them, let’s remember them as victims.

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We went to the Hammer Museum to see a retrospective of Southern-California-artist Llyn Foulkes, and while I was familiar with some of his more iconic images, I didn’t really know the work.  If you live in the Los Angeles area I can’t think of a better show to go see.   His paintings are sculpted in such a way that it was difficult to not reach out and touch them and his politics going back fifty years are as relevant as today’s headlines.  I think I liked it as much as anything I’ve seen in LA since a Francis Bacon retrospective about fifteen years ago.  I’m posting some of the images here but they don’t do justice to the actual work up close.  Go see it.  Hammer Museum - Llyn Foulkes

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People’s Park - Berkeley, CA - 1984

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I was at Trader Joe’s with Linda and the guy bagging and scanning our groceries asked if we were having a good weekend.  I don’t talk to strangers but Linda is friendly so she tells him so far the weekend is alright, it’s a pretty day.  He says it’s Saturday night, you all have plans?  Linda tells him as a matter of fact we’re going to a gallery opening.  He tells me Wow, what I’d do that she gets to drag me to an art thing?  I tell him I don’t mind, in fact I enjoy it.  He says well, at least it’s not opera, know what I mean?
I do know what he means: I’m a guy and therefore I’m obligated to disrespect cultural enlightenment and be a dumbass.  But I don’t tell him that, wouldn’t want him thinking I’m some sort of fucking pussy.
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White Smoke & Mirrors.  There’s a new Pope at Guppy Guzzlers Inc., but he’s going to have to hire Don Draper and his crew to create a new image.  I don’t know of any nefarious activities the Papal Thugs haven’t already engaged in, so what’s it gonna take to destroy the concept in general?  Seems like people just can’t let go even though they have one foot and a leg stuck in the mire of a twisted history.  Supposedly this new guy is impersonating Mahatma Gandhi and may not be a complete idiot, but I have my doubts, let’s all say a little prayer.                                                                         *********
Sometimes I look at the work of other photographers and I wish I were younger and in better shape and smarter than I was when I was younger and in better shape.  I’ve been looking through Marco Vernaschi photos online.  I was lucky enough to be included, along with Marco, and a talented group of images makers, in MONO, the big beautiful and amazing photography book put together by Luca Desienna at Gomma Magazine late last year.  For anyone who isn’t familiar with Marco’s work I’m posting a few here along with a link to his web page. Marco Vernaschi page.

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Blane tells everyone he knocked out his father's teeth with a baseball bat.  No one really believes him though everyone figures he's capable of considerable violence. 

Blane is quick to explain how he's only known J-Boy for a couple of days yet he's gonna fuck up anyone messes with J-Boy or his dog, whose name is Judo. 

J-Boy hopes to avoid violence though he likes to imagine Judo grows to the size of a wolf and then fucks people up at his command.

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 The picture and quick narrative above is from SAD CITY, a zine I’m doing with Tony Fouse at Straylight Press.  We haven’t yet set a pub date but as soon as we do I’ll be posting the usual ad nauseam bombardment of self-promotion on Facebook and everywhere else I can attract attention.  Tony is one of the rare breed who makes a living as a commercial photographer and also makes wonderful photographic contributions to the art world.  He has a book out now, also published by Straylight Press, called LIVE THROUGH THIS which along with the exhibits, has been receiving a lot of well-deserved attention.  Tony and I are both represented in Canada by La Petite Mort Gallery, along with an incredible group of edgy and brilliant artists. I’m pretty awestruck to be in their company.  Tony and I met on Facebook.

And on the subject of Facebook... 

Went to a 43rd birthday party Saturday night for a LA artist friend, Matjames Metson.  Had a great time and I always enjoy meeting people who are more interesting than I am.  Most everyone there was in the arts and one conversation that came up more than twice was Facebook.  We were all pro Facebook.

Yet, a lot of people bitch about Facebook and they do it most often on Facebook.  Lack of privacy, unwanted advertising, and in the photo world people like to carry on about copyright and plagiarism.   Quite honestly, my reaction is usually, Who fucking cares?  If not for Facebook I wouldn’t be writing this because nobody would read it.  Prima donna that I am I like to Google myself now and again and I’ve seen my Lowlife pix with and without my byline posted in countries where I can’t decipher a single letter.  I think that’s a good thing.  I will concede that if one of my pix was used to advertise a product I’d probably be irritated, but then it’s not likely an image one of my street whores is going to be used for selling consumer goods.  I’ve also heard photographers crying that someone swiped their idea or concept, everything down to the haircut.  It’s a world full of thought and sometimes other people are thinking the same thing your thinking, we are seldom all that unique.  I guess what I’m trying to say is, loosen up all you tight-ass dickheads, though, unfortunately, tight-ass dickheads don’t read what I write or care what I think.  That’s one of the things that makes them tight-ass dickheads.

I met a Facebook photographer friend last week.  If fact I friended a couple of photographers both of which have bodies of work that impress me more than my own work impresses me.  They make me want to be young again but don’t make me regret getting old.  Ziv Ish is a thirty-six-year-old photographer who lives and works in Tel-Aviv, Israel.  His pix are gutsy and gritty, political and technically terrific. I’m posting a few of Ziv’s pix here for your viewing pleasure.  Take a look at his web page as well.

Before signing off, a little pandering.  If you have read this far and are still reading please feel free to share both this blog and the Nocturnal Submissions column at VICE, with people you share stuff with.

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Sisters I met late one night while wandering around a motel filled with working girls.

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CURB SERVICE galleys are in.  Next step, need to figure a way to get James Franco to buy the film rights and then play me in the movie.

Saturday night we went to the first show at drkrm’s new space in Chinatown, a retrospective of nonagenarian photographer Art Shay.  Mr. Shay had the kind of career I might have dreamt for myself forty-five years ago and there were pictures on the walls I’d love to have on my walls.  He’s a charming and talented photographer and he was at the opening signing books and chatting away.  He earned his accolades and it’s not so much that I hope I’m as sharp as he at his age as I just hope I’m still alive.  The new drkrm space is terrific and the Chinatown galleries on Chun King Road are becoming a very groovy place to be.   It was a beautiful night and the opening brought together a big friendly and diverse crowd.  Since first showing at drkrm Linda and I have become part of a creative family of drkrm people and I’m a happier man because of it.  I didn’t take any pictures but photographer Michael Eivaz did and this is the link.  Michael Eivaz

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Later Saturday night, around three, I went out looking for pictures.  I was successful though had an experience I haven’t had before.  Along Santa Monica Boulevard east of Vine and west of Vermont, I spied with my little photographic eye a woman keeping to the shadows in a kind of long sparkly skirt and skimpy top, looking like an upright mermaid.  So following procedure I circled around the block then pulled close to the curb and zipped down the window.  “Are you working?” I asked.

She was young and very pretty.  “I’m not a whore.  I’m so so sorry for you but I’m not a whore.”

I told her I was sorry to have bothered her and drove away feeling kind of slimy.  In spite of all my rationalizations for what I do, it wasn’t a very good feeling.

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I’ve had this page for a few years but this is my first actual blog post.  I only recently finished writing CURB SERVICE so I don’t know how much I have left to tell about myself.  The hard part is just to write and then leave it alone and then write some more.

My third Nocturnal Submissions column at Vice.com came out last week.  It was titled “Fuck The Police” which I thought was catchy.  I got a good response and a couple of fan emails which was nice.  I also got some negative feedback which was also nice.  I’ve yet to receive any angry comments but I persevere. 

There is one response that really pisses me off: Men who refer to the women in the photos as unfuckable.  I’ve heard that a few times now and it’s a dumb-ass asshole thing to say.  That said, every once in a while the women in the pictures are pretty fucking hot.

We’re getting the Curb Service galleys this week and it’s time to go and solicit blurbs which reminds me of all the years I spent writing agents and editors and collecting rejection slips.  I’m hoping to visit some book stores where I can hawk my charming personality and generate pre-orders and enthusiasm.

I have five prints in a show at Mindy Solomon Gallery in Florida, goes for a couple more weeks.  I’m posting a couple of them here.

The Wet Spot

Linda & I

As time goes on I need to find more things at home to photograph.  I've always liked photographing people more than photographing stuff.  For the most part I've had problems with celebrity portraits in galleries, seems like they are more about who is in the photos and at times with little else to recommend it.  At the same time when I was learning portrait photography I worshiped at the alters of Edward Steichen and Arnold Newman.   Maybe I'm just envious; I've never done a celebrity portrait but I'm available for hire.

Edward Steichen - Self Portrait

Arnold Newman - Igor Stravinsky

Gloria-Swanson by Arnold Newman

Pablo Picasso by Arnold Newman

So this is my first post which seems short compared to most of the blogs I read.  Hopefully I can get into the habit of doing this and maybe even finding interesting things to blog about.