pic O week

In Memoriam

2011-08-03T12:05:00.000-07:00

"Some people seem to fade away but then when they are truly gone, it's like they didn't fade away at all." — Bob Dylan (Chronicles: Volume One)

This is an element for a photo project by Walt Cotten. He left us before we could celebrate his birthday August 2nd.

That's all. See you next week.

Around the globe in LA

2011-07-18T19:28:00.000-07:00

Japanese tea in Koreatown

Music from Egypt downtown

Multi-national design festival in Little Tokyo

History of German music and art in Echo Park

OJO POP

2011-07-12T11:00:00.000-07:00

It starts with words. The words are looped and processed. Ambient sounds begin to dominate. Guitars come out. More words. A rhythm, a riff, we're rocking.

OJO performances have interactive elements. Chinatown in a basement. A captive audience in a tightly confined space.
BANG DROP IT! TROW IT! STEP ON IT! SNAP IT!
OJO does things that make me fall in love with Los Angeles all over again.

OJO is a Los Angeles-based performance, art, and music collaborative founded in 2005 by Joshua Aster, Chris Avitabile, Justin Cole, Moises Medina, Eamon Ore-Giron, and Brenna Youngblood.

Design Festival

2011-06-27T11:26:00.000-07:00

Saturday's work at Strangeways Academy in Chinatown. Come see the show Thursday June 30th 6-9 PM

Work by over 20 Los Angeles Creatives. Graphic design, drawings, paintings, photography and ....

Defining Family

2011-06-20T12:02:00.000-07:00

Sue and her daughter Marka

Why do some families have to explain themselves? Here are a few quotes from this weekend's interview with the Maberry-Gaulke family.

"When you lead a different lifestyle, you're open to public comment." Rather than resist "we chose to live our lives in ways that let people in, to make the world safe for families like ours."

Being a family with two moms is still a little different in LA. In a way the kids think its cool, in another "it's like coming out" every time they have to explain it to someone.

Xochi gets emotional when talking about the day calling it "our wedding because they're the ones being married but we're the ones being pronounced a family in the eyes of the state".

Having twin daughters drew much attention when they were out and about. In one memorable incident they politely explained being a lesbian family to an inquisitive woman. After taking it into consideration, the woman decided, "Well, I don't approve."

Cheri with her daughters Marka and Xochi

four for june gloom

2011-06-13T15:32:00.000-07:00

Photographers enjoy the cloud cover. The changing light makes for excellent shooting opportunities. Let's make pictures. The heat will bare down on us soon enough here in Los Angeles.

the light is long

on a summer day

june gloom shrouds

and paints the way

sets are fake

sidewalks bake

double take

Angeleno

2011-06-07T21:39:00.000-07:00

Los Lobos has consistently represented itself as "from Los Angeles". It's hard to think of another band that so closely associates their music with the city. Lyrics drawn from lives growing up in and being from East LA. The imagery and style is specific to their latin roots but, somehow reaches out to all who call LA home. Whether Los Angeles is your adopted or native home, Saturday night at Los Angeles Theatre Center was a rare treat. In an intimate setting, David Hidalgo and Louie Pérez of Los Lobos celebrated 40-years of songwriting. A proud moment in our city.

BBQ Colors

2011-05-31T12:50:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day had it's origin during the Civil War. It originated as a way to honor the fallen, which it does to this day. We should never forget. But I was happy to hear it did include a meal as part of the ritual. In L.A. we got together for the weekend celebration that kicks off the summer season; Backyard BBQ's in primary colors and then some.

Men Break into Song

2011-05-23T15:59:00.000-07:00

The Loyal Order of the Water Buffalo had a reunion BBQ on Sunday. What started out in the early 80's as an excuse for guys to get together, grew to become the stuff of legend in LA's music scene. Largely made up of Los Angeles band members, there were of course monthly shows. Those took place at a warehouse in Frogtown; $5 cover, all the beer you can drink. You can imagine.

Among the themes for their gatherings was a Caveman Party at Bronson Cave where no words could be spoken. The women started their own club called the Muffalos, but only the men's club endured. Just like Sunday's BBQ, women were included in lots of events. In fact, there was even a Miss Water Buffalo. Any pretensions you ever imagined rock stars to have immediately flies out the window with these guys. This was plain old American tradition being carried out. Meat filled the grill and song filled the air when members got together to sing the club's song. This weekend's reunion was a little slice of LA history and a lot of fun.

when the light ...

2011-05-16T09:19:00.000-07:00

We're always looking at the light. What direction it's coming from, the surfaces it hits and bounces from, the quality it gets as it's filtered through clouds, trees and windows just to list a few.

When the light hit the courtyard at Santa Fe Art Colony Saturday evening, it was a good time to be a photographer . It had been overcast all day. About an hour before sunset, the cloud cover broke and the sun started painting.

Lion hearted

2011-05-09T08:57:00.000-07:00

My friend Andy announced he joined the Lions Club a few years back. Not only that, he was the president of the local chapter.

These kinds of institutions seem mothballed in the nostalgia of simpler times. Something our parents did, you know, older people. Do me a favor for this week, ask "older people" how old they are in their minds. Andy and I will tell you our punk rock days were just a couple of months ago, maybe a few years. Definitely not 30. That's not to say we're living in the past. It's that our thinking, our passion, our love of life is rooted in the values we established then. We still feel that way. In part, those values embrace what is pure in our culture.

Public service is definitely one of them. The original DIY. So when the Lions Club has a pancake breakfast some Saturday, throw down $5 and live in the past. We'll all get there someday.

This is the Stoikoff family with their patriarch Boris. They've been working the pancake breakfast for 33 years.

River Portraits

2011-05-02T22:07:00.000-07:00

After checking in to The 22nd La Gran Limpieza, volunteers went their separate ways dotting the river bed on a mission to make a difference. While clearing trash from the Los Angeles River is the purpose of The Great Los Angeles River Cleanup organized by FoLAR each year, I realized something else was at play. Watching a young man dig a cell phone out from under some river rocks with a stick, hearing the uncontrolled laughter between friends as one of them waded with drive and dedication to dig up soggy trash, feeling the energy generating from a Girl Scout troop filling up all their bags, it dawned on me. This was ultimately a form of self expression. Each person had an individual vision of what their contribution would be. I was catching them at an intimate moment. They generously allowed me to capture these portraits, then continued with humility, making their mark on the world. Did I mention they were all having fun doing it?

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I liked it better when it was the same.

2011-04-26T09:05:00.000-07:00

Manifest Destiny ran out of real estate. In it's next iteration, it recoiled back from PCH as a wave of urban renewal. You can almost follow it by the numbers in Santa Monica. There once was a JC Penney on the Third Street Promenade. Remember? Next came 4th and 5th Streets as production services and professional firms left central LA.

Everything is different now. I liked it better when it was the same.

Eastsiders often dismiss Santa Monica and vice versa. Everyone is familiar with the demarcation. East/West of LaBrea.

I went street shooting on 8th and 9th Street last week and picked up on some of how it's still like it was before. A little hug across the border to the Santa Monica we remember fondly.

Light

2011-04-18T11:32:00.000-07:00

Unintended moments watching the light.

cul-de-sac

2011-04-11T18:17:00.000-07:00

picOweek came from life's path today. After a week filled shooting jobs and assignments, no story drew me to the stuff from which this weekly missive springs. The deadline loomed. Post an image every Monday. On top of scheduling a walk with Jose, I had committed to doing a friend a favor in the morning. I stuck to my commitments, thinking picOweek all along.

Our morning walk moved to the afternoon. I drove to Beverly Hills to shoot for my friend. On the way back, I picked Jose up and we drove to my studio in Frogtown. The plan was to head down the river then up the hill to Echo Park. We set off.

Life's path the analogy goes. Jose brought it up on our walk. Elaborating, he confided that, at times, he wound up down a cul-de-sac. Now that's interesting, I had always thought those directions in life were dead ends. While both share the same navigational limitations, a cul-de-sac is way more useful.

A cul-de-sac tree is lined with trees and there's room to turn around. It offers a way out without backing up. All you have to do is be smart enough to use it and get back to the right course. Suddenly things seemed brighter. The times I had strayed from my path didn't seem like such a waste. Those to come will take on a new perspective.

We climbed Landa street, a direct route up from Frogtown to Echo Park. It's gated off at the top and the bottom, sort of a dead end on our route. We slipped past the gates, continued our conversation, laughed and wound up covering everything we had planned to. picOweek was made on the way back down the hill. I didn't know it this morning, but it was on the path.

Spring is birthed

2011-04-04T12:40:00.000-07:00

What's Carol up to now?

Perpetua & Company presented ...in passing II (an offering for the spring equinox). It was beyond words. I'll let the pictures do the talking. More to come. Please add comments below to help me explain this amazing, fun performance. The perfect Silver Lake Sunday afternoon.

ESMB

2011-03-27T23:12:00.000-07:00

East Side Motto Babes lead the Steve McQueen Ride Sunday. Maps on tanks with electrical tape. Helmets and safety gear on, and they were off.

Jeannette and Fred outside the Brite Spot

Stacie and Ezra look over the route

Ezra brought electrician's tape to put the map on the tank of her Honda

Jeannette is set

Everyone is dressed for the cold ride.

Distance

2011-03-21T12:39:00.000-07:00

something in the rain helps memories fade
soft light, steady flow, clearing in the distance
the river was blessed this week

Monday:
Two shots from my neighborhood

More to come

Tuesday's addition. I'm teaching a beginning photography class. I'm impressed with how students pick up on even the most obscure references. Covering conventional topics like depth of field and exposure techniques, do I show them how to mess with digital artifacts by taking out of focus photos and pointing the camera towards bright light? I like the way the tree branch to the right broke up. What I will teach them is taking a picture a day. How that becomes a visual diary, and maybe tells a story. Just practicing what I preach. See you Wednesday.

What a drab Wednesday. Despite that, I had a great class at Homeboy Industries, ran all my errands, shot Elizabeth Taylor's star on Hollywood Boulevard, hit the gym for Yoga and exercise and made a quick stop to shoot for the blog. Mantra for the day: When the world gives you beige, shoot it.

Lines drawn, arbitrary or otherwise. Heading into the weekend. The river drags debris downstream, drops other debris by our door.

Pretty Things

2011-03-14T17:28:00.000-07:00

Oh you pretty thing. This weekend, fashion plastered LA in more ways than one. Austin Young opened his exhibit, "Your Face Here" at pop tART Gallery. The walls in the tiny space were covered with 100 portraits shot over the past month. I only knew a handful of the characters but there appeared to be a fair representation of the art, music, drag, gay, straight, old, hot and young scene. It's a teastament to Austin's personality as an artist. He embraces the entirety of the city. As a photographer in his own right and as a member of Fallen Fruit, he's been making positive contributions to the city's image for some time now.

Up the Wilshire corridor, Concept LA kicked off Los Angeles' take on Fashion Week. Mike Vensel is winning the spitting contest over which show represents L.A.'s designers. It appears his attitude is to put the emphasis on the clothes. Imagine that!

When I can get the right access, I like covering fashion shows. The creative environment backstage is electric. Designers, hair and make-up artists are meticulous with each model. They have to create at least 3 distinctive looks in one night. Everyone manages to stay calm, models are kept moving from station to station. Finally they arrive at the wall behind the runway where dressers put the clothes on, sometimes moments before they walk out. I have great admiration for what they do. Great thanks to all those professionals for their patience in letting me share their space to capture these moments.

Steps to Nowhere

2011-03-07T13:01:00.000-08:00

I finally made it up the stairs built into the hillside above Interstate 5. They lead to nowhere. Next to them, are three cement structures; are they retaining walls or foundations? They're curious, these stairs, mirroring their more popular sister structures across Fletcher Dr. A rambling set of footings above the Arco station get all the attention. Remnants of the Red Car trestle are repurposed into art instalations on a rotating schedule. These steps, along the freeway and Riverside Drive, above Home Restaurant, are for the most part dismissed. They are abandoned on a stretch of road that serves as a thoroughfare, an alternative route, a bypass, a shortcut.

Another set of stairs down the road lead to another void. This one, often lush with overgrown weeds and grasses catches the eye with a sensuous "s" curve. I've visited many times since moving to Frogtown.

Frogtown is a sliver of a neighborhood delineated by Interstate 5 to the west and the banks of the L.A. River to the east. Building the freeway meant tearing half the neighborhood out including a library and a grocery store. Older residents still talk about the sacrifice they were submitted to. The place was never the same. Bicyclist in colorful Lycra gear, hunched over their handle bars try to claim the river path; a newer version of Angelinos who pass through Frogtown with the same blinders as the commuters. Slow moving Chinese, white and Latino residents taking their walks along the river are brushed by and for the most part ignored. This serves to make the analogy.

On this day, overcast, the city tucked under an atmospheric blanket, I am home. I take the time to climb the hills. What's left of the day on a dismissed piece of real estate becomes special and uniquely L.A. This is what was abandoned when the freeways were built. Part of me doesn't know the specifics, the other part accepts and embraces what it is now. Where history crosses culture, where architecture meets kitch, where nationality is served curbside on a paper plate. To be Angelino, to truly become a part of the city is to appreciate these disparate, random confluences. If you tuck your head into the wind or drive to get to point B, you won't see the city. If you can't tap into the Gestalt, you'll never belong. Giving yourself over to it is the easiest thing you can imagine.

picOweek returns

2011-03-03T12:40:00.000-08:00

Pipe in with what picOweek is/was to you. With humble self-contrition, I kick it back in gear this Monday 3/7. A few nice people have asked about where it's been. The kindness of thought and the time taken to look at what I have to share sincerely amazes me. I hope to rise to some new level for you. I don't know what that is, only that it's a path. And so, please do share your impressions and musings on posts past and those to come.
Until Monday then, a few from Project 365 heading into the weekend:

Petrol & Alcohol

2010-08-16T12:19:00.000-07:00

On camera flash can sure get old. Are you with me shooters? Whenever the opportunity arrises, and I'm not too busy, I get to an event early and set up additional strobes. They all fire from my Pocket Wizards. All the cords are either tucked away or hanging from a single light stand. I prefer the Lumedynes, they are battery powered, compact and reliable.

When a local motorcycle club hosted a "Naughty School Girl" event, I knew there would be some fun shots. Great bunch of guys and music, fueled by petrol and alcohol. Very Southern California. I'll let the photos do the talking.

The Waking Man and the hole

2010-07-26T14:04:00.000-07:00

A man died last week. He lived in our neighborhood. Until yesterday, I never met anyone who knew him. He was the Walking Man. Driving home from work, going to Trader Joe's or meeting friends for dinner, you'd turn the corner and there he was. Shirt off, holding a newspaper and moving at a steady clip. Practically everyone I know saw him on a regular basis year after year, but never talked to him. So when he died suddenly last week, why did it hit everyone hard? There was a big hole in our community that no one could define.
Almost immediately, a page appeared on facebook. There would be a memorial walk over the weekend. It turns out the guy that put it up never met him either.

It was in the paper, the controversy behind his death. Something we didn't know about the shirtless man everyone saw, but few talked to. People said that the walk might not happen, or that fewer people would come out because of the dark news. The hole in the community still needed to be defined, though, so lots of people showed up. Even the two Councilmembers form the area showed up.
So what I think happened is that the Walking Man, with that rhythmic pace on that repeating circuit punctuated by his sudden exit, transcended himself.
He was the constant for people in Silver Lake. Quiet but reliable. Peaceful but moving. As reliable as the end of your day, close to home, regrouping and preparing for tomorrow. But something you never had to address until now. When I read the article in the paper, it only made it more obvious that it wasn't the Walking Man that died, it was us. In whatever way we personally co-opted the Walking Man, he took that with him. That's the hole.

On Sunday, guys brought newspapers and took their shirts off. Families joined neighbors, retracing the Walking Man's steps. What I wonder is if anyone stepped back to seriously ask themselves what they were doing there. It's not unlike other times a city is thrown into tumult. But this time, the confusion was internal. Silver Lake has changed for people who have lived here for decades rather than years. It has changed a lot for people who have lived here years rather than months. People move into an area and start to redefine it for those who were there before. But everyone had the Walking Man. On Sunday, they all came out to see each other, and to walk, and maybe even talk. What will happen next?

Dinner with horses

2010-07-14T10:02:00.000-07:00

Up the river from openSHADEstudio, there's horses. I know they're there. I see them when I take rides on the bike path. I talked to Steve, who boards his horse at Taking the Reins. He rides it across the river, under the freeway and into Griffith Park. How amazing is that?
It's heartening to live in a major metropolitan area with big patches of nature portioned out, not to be encroached on. Steve was one of the guests at a fundraising dinner Sunday. We were served dinner on a long table, set in the middle of the barn. Surrounded by stalls, each inhabited by a horse with its own color markings, size and personality, this had to be one of the top ten best places I've had dinner in L.A. (just for comparison, Tim and Bridgitte's wedding in the river, under the 6th St. bridge is another). From my place setting, savoring Meg's amazing trout dinner, I could sense Bucky's presence from a stall 30 feet away. He was massive. When I went to greet him, waiting for dessert, he would have none of it. Strong spirit, lots of energy, independent, my kind of person, except he's a horse. So, if we ever get a chance to dine together, feel free to be a Bucky, I kinda dig it.

Americana the Beautiful

2010-07-05T12:34:00.000-07:00

I love this country. It's not the greatest country in the world. Politicians say that. Ignorant people believe that. I love this country because of the people who carve out large slices but also want everybody to have a piece of the pie. Hope you were out at a 4th of July BBQ this weekend, saying hello to your neighbors or hugging your family.

Seeing this Cougar, still in one piece out in the summer heat, made me happy and sad at the same time. Happy that someone was smart enough not to crush it, and sad that it has been abandoned at some level. If this photograph is a metaphor, let it be the neglected greatness that is preserved in little slices of Americana. I love this country when it is humble, honorable, fun, gregarious, and Detroit. Car design had some of it's greatest moments there. I think that's why I love "the greatest country in the world". I'm going to keep rooting for it one way or another. In this case, let it be a beautifully designed muscle car on a driveway in Echo Park, Los Angeles, California, USA.

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