SNOWJOB

With the blizzards Upstate today it reminded me I hadn't posted our own New Years Eve snowfall.

BLACK MAGIC JOHAN: Santana comes to NYC

My last posting on the New York Mets was in reference to their historic meltdown at the end of last season, so I'm sure this will once again be the kiss of death as the best pitcher in MLB, Johan Santana, in his prime comes to the Mets in a four way trade from the Minnesota Twins. I say this because just like the Democratic party the Mets have a way of shooting themselves in the foot, of turning a sure winner into something, completely...not a sure winner. Visions of Frankie V "Sweet Music" Viola, come churning into my head. The last great Twin to arrive back home with all the credentials for an amazing run. Twenty game winner, Cy Young Award winner, World Series winner, New Yorker and a lefty, what could possibly go wrong? Lets hope we don't have a 36 degree April day and Willie decides to leave Santana out there to pitch 158 go 'rounds. A late season collapse of 2-11 in his second year does not a joyous homecoming make. As Dylan says "Don't fall apart on me tonight babe, I just don't think that I could handle it". So here's to our new arrival and may all the good magic, whether it be white, black or from Carlos himself, be with him and our team.

ABOUT FACE

Putting together a cohesive body of work can be daunting and end up taking what seems like forever but here is Bill Bernstein with not one but two completely different portfolios, both coming out in under a calender year. One of my first posts was for his Paul McCartney show last Feb in Soho. His new one is at the Bowery Mission opening on Thur night called "About Face", an essay on the men who daily try to turn their lives around using the Mission as a starting off point. Bill has volunteered at the mission for many years and knows many of the men personally so look forward to seeing this intimate insight into what can sometimes be a heartbreaking or heartwarming endeavour.

OUT OF DATE

I'm a big fan of using all sorts of outdated film, paper etc, just to see what you will get, most of the time not much, but its worth a try. This present from my friend Lori was even too much for me. Check out the date.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY: THE CHRISTMAS CLASSIC

For all, not just the Irish, who will not be going home for Christmas. Fairytale of New York in twenty years old this December. I know you've heard it a million times already but you can watch how all the boys looked in their prime, yes TWENTY YEARS. I have very fond memories of the song itself as I returned to Ireland, for the first time in five years, the year it was released. There was little or no crossing of the cultures at that time, very little MTV, little in the computer world and certainly no Internet. I had not heard it in NYC. I don't know if it was even released that first year so to arrive in Ireland and find some old mates with the # 2 song in the UK, #1 in Ireland and for it to be set in my new home town, in the middle of Christmas, seemed right and fitting indeed. It was being sung in every pub by every man, woman and child who had any kind of a voice at all. The fact that it has held up so well is a testament to Jem Fenner and Shane for writing a brilliant and poignant piece of music. That it has reached the heady heights, in terms of its Christmas legacy, makes all us Pats and exPats and New Yorkers a little proud, a Christmas song of our own. It was voted the #1 Christmas song of all time in the UK the last 3 years running. And of course here's to Kristy, who must be looking down on all this and wondering how that old " cheap lousy faggot" is still alive and singing that song. She must be thinking "Happy Christmas me arse" is right.

SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA WILDFIRE REMNANTS

Here are some of the images from my series of the California wildfires. I set out on this project with very little preconceived ideas about what it might look like except I wanted to shoot large format(naturally) and give it my own spin. Shot over a period of three days, just as if it was an assignment, I covered a fair amount of territory and captured varying degrees of destruction and how it affected its surrounding environment. My wife's family and many friends all live close to the firing lines so I'm reasonably familiar with these deserts, which was a help and it also made it more personal as we followed the coverage very closely as the fires themselves were raging. Unlike Katrina, this is such a personal almost individual catastrophe. Not everyone was touched by the blazes, the randomness at which the fires touched down meant people from the same street shared very different experiences. Your house burned to the ground, your next-door neighbor's fine, not a scratch (plate 1). How do you get your head around that? Living in the desert the blaze could pass you by 10 feet and your safe, or pick you out like a heat seeking missile and torch you (Plate 3). On the photographic side, after looking at 30 or so images I found some familiar threads running though this and my previous series which was pleasing, but it feels unfinished so a return in the new year is in the works.

THE WEEKENDER (Yuletide Edition)

The Weekender and wife took the ludicrously scenic Route 22, up New York State, instead of the Taconic to Old Queechy last Saturday in hopes of procuring all thinks Kringle. On leaving Millerton and coming over a hill we were offered this Grandma Moses vantage of the most beauteous Taconic Hills. It really doesn't get any more Yuley that this. Go here for larger view

A CHRISTMAS TRADITION

This is one of the many thing I love about being a New Yorker. I heard this show the first year I arrived in the city and thought I'd found everyone I had been looking for.

"Just before Christmas in 1970, Jonathan Schwartz decided to do something a little different for his morning show at the late, still-lamented WNEW-AM.

He asked his father, songwriter Arthur Schwartz, to fly in from London and join him to talk about music, play some of that music and sing songs.

Thirty-eight Christmases later, Arthur Schwartz is gone. But the show goes on, and Sunday on WNYC (93.9 FM), Jonathan will host what has now become his annual Christmas talk-and-music gathering, noon-4 p.m.

This time around, guests will include Andrew Bergman, John Wideman, Charles Osgood, Tierney Sutton, the John Pizzarelli Quartet, John Guare, Jessica Molasky, Tony Monte, Mark Simone, Hillary Kole, Mike Renzi, Jay Leonhart, Judy Carmichael, Harry Allen and various members of the Schwartz family - which in a real sense, says Schwartz, describes everyone there.

"It's a show that's about family," he says - a family that makes music and talks about a wide range of subjects in a way that makes the listener feel part of the family, too.

It's one of New York radio's warmest holiday traditions." NY DAILY NEWS.

Along with Phil Schapp he has probably the greatest encyclopedic mind for American Popular Music but in terms of broadcasting he has no peer

This is simulcast on XM Satailite radio

Along with Aimee Mann's 2nd Christmas Extravaganza on Friday night, this will get me totally in the spirit of the season.

FALLING MAN IS ON THE BEACH

With the Jackanory out of town I guess someone has to step up to the plate, especially with his Master's Voice in town. Richard Misrach spoke on his newly released book ON THE BEACH at Strand bookstore tonight. He was wonderfully eloquent, very forthright about his new use of digital manipulation, his newly acquired method of cropping for the book and the prints, and in his explanation of the work in general. As I said in the previous post, from what I had seen of this new project, I wasn't too jazzed. Of course the beauty of the composition, the light, you name it, all there in spades but the subject matter I find only vaguely interesting. Well the man himself stood up and explained that all of this work came from his fear and alienation after 9/11. That the singular humans floating above and within the abyss were metaphors for that ugly day seven years ago, and for life in general. Free falls, fleeing, drowning, escaping, all the movement within the frame can in some way be traced back to images we have seen in the media from that September day. OK. Enough said. As my wife said everyone owns 9/11 in his or her own way, process it how you will. I think everyone was a little stunned at the admission as the Q&A was a little week to say the least. The title comes from a post WWII book of the same name where the world is annihilated by a nuclear explosion. That was the serious part of the night, now the lowdown. They wheeled the books in on carts; you could extend the Great Wall with size and the amount. The line for signings was quite long but I figured lets do it, he's here and the book itself looks very impressive. I'm getting antsy in the wait; the wife needs both a drink and her dinner and who jumps the line for the autograph, in true NYC 1980's fashion, none other than Sylvia Plachy. My one is ready to rip her a new one, hypoglycemia kicking in and considering Sylvia's abysmal display on the ovation show I was about to let her do it. But as I got my signed copy and handshake, I was able to deftly move away the wife from the oblivious Plachy and swiftly leave the premises. I could see others in the line beginning to fume as she for the second time hogged the limelight with the maestro. We then went to our fave Cafe Loup on 13th St and had soup.

YES MASTER

Very excited this week as we have two nights to catch the Master, Richard Misrach himself, appearing on the East coast. His new book is out, ON THE BEACH, signing at the Strand book store on Broadway and 12th street and then Pace/MacGill has an opening for the very same, the next night. Everyone has one of those photographers that when you see their work for the first time you go, aaah yeah, THATS what I've been trying to do. Misrach is one of those for me. After getting out of school it was great to see someone who was actually alive using an 8x10. Misrach is one of the Large Formatists who continued the view camera tradition long after it was out of vogue in the late 70's & early 80's. He was able to combine a modern social ethos with an archaic tool and create a new photographic palate. His Desert Cantos work shot him out of the mainly photographic world and on to the art stage itself. He worked solidly through the 90s culminating with two books in 2000 & 2001 Golden Gate and The Sky Book. Golden Gate blew me away when I saw the work at the opening. Such breadth and dept of color from our natural landscape, amazing. But like all idolatry, there comes a time for a let down and I think it maybe tomorrow night. Just like the team that breaks your heart by not making the playoffs on the last game of the season ON THE BEACH may be that defining moment for me. I can't wait for the prints, excited about the book but in all honesty I'm just not that crazy about the subject matter. Maybe seeing it all together will be the answer. If you have a chance try to get to one of the events, do, he doesn't show up that much on the East coast, and see what all the fuss is about, it should be worth it.

AND ITS FREE, kind of

Free Health Care Fair for Artists. This organization has been extremely present lately in the community and this forum seems very prescient, especially at this moment when both our democratic front runners seem bamboozled by the whole health care system. If any artists are in need of health care this would seem to be an event you must attend.

ON THE ROAD

I spent last week in Los Angeles, part of a 8 day stretch of work on the West coast, and then seg wayed down to my wife's old home town of San Diego. While I was there I began to research the wild fires and its devastation for the unfortunate ones who lost their homes . Not on a New Orleans size or scope but the individual randomness of it all. These blazes were so disprit, one house standing the next one incinerated, all based on the direction of the wind and some errant ember. I felt queasy about going in to document what had transpired, not really my cup of tea, but at the same time had not seen anyone tell this side of the story. So out of my bubble and comfort zone and .........I haven't seen my effort yet but I will have something to show reasonably soon I'm sure. Anyway that's me with the mother-in-laws ladder, cant really carry one on the plane anymore, so you have to borrow as you go. Thanks to Joanne and Evan Bloom for all their help down there.

HOUSE AND GONE

Ran into old friend photographer Francois Dishinger (see Francois's GQ spread in last month's issue) last night and he told me House and Garden magazine was closing in December. Francois has done oceans of work for them through the years and was feeling for all his compadres who will be out looking for new work. New people at new magazines means new work. He didn't feel so bad after that. Anyway, Lots of large format guys have cut their teeth on that magazine and found ways into the Conde Nast labyrinth of work. My lasting memory of the mag came last December. Everyone was blogging and talking about Robert Polidori's opening at the Met, for his book on New Orleans. The scope of the tome he had produced had people apolectict, and now the work was being elevated to the Holiest of sights. The MET. But there was Big Bob out in someones garden doing his three page spread for H & G. When your working your working.

HEART AND SOUL

The history of Joy Division sounds like it would be one of those crazy, sordid rock n roll THS. Eclectic artist commits suicide amid working class carnage of the Thatcher regime in 80's Britan. But it couldn't be further from that old chesnut. Partly true. Suicide, wastelands of young Englishmen searching for a vent from an right wing administration that had left them for dead. But Joy Division's anger was as much personal as political and their sound crafted by the band and producer Martin Hannett struck a different chord among the angry young men of the 70's music revolution. Ian Curtis, who died may 18th 1980, left a far more moving legacy than most rock deaths. Not a live fast-die young and leave a good looking corpse suicide, his was one of doom and desperation. One that many an unemployed youth could eerily identify with. The two albums, recorded a year apart, Unknown Pleasures and Closer, redefined not only the musical landscape of the time but how young men perceived themselves in the chaotic days in the height the Tory regime. Bleak, and unremitting, these guys tapped into a much more mature ennui. Once they had released She's Lost Control and Love Will Tear Us Apart, the days of Teenage Kicks had been put to bed forever. To be perfectly frank when I heard Closer for the first time, it scared the shit out of me. They were talking about life and death and love in a truly profound way. A scary way, real. A new voice that seared into ones soul. They created a sound that would be emulated, copied and revered for the next twenty five years. To say they are THE most influential band of the last quarter century is no hyperbole. They are. To see their legacy just look at the bands littered throughout the last quarter century, including the big ones, U2 and REM, and here the nerve jangling guitar first created in Factory Studios, come searing out of every pore and every chord they play. Look at New Orders critical and commercial success, to see their vision realised. "Here are the young men the weight on their shoulders"
All of this comes about with the advent of Anton Corbijn's film Control.
I am thrilled that the man who created a photographic style all his own based on his love of this one band, got to make this film. I was ready with my sweaty $10 to be first in line and but on writing this entry two weeks ago I became wistfully blue, the thought of my youth long gone, it all seemed too much to go through again, so I left it to my compadres to evaluate the film which by all accounts is just... great. Thank you once again Ian.

I AM SPARTACUS! I AM SPARTACUS! I AM SPARTACUS! I AM..... THE BP

Well the Bitter Photographer has gotten the rumour mill humming with his posts on many of the photographer bloggers. Posting annonomously, I'm sure someone will figure out who it is in time to come, but for now many names are being bandied about as to who it is. His / Her posts, are slightly disparaging but I'm sure taken with a grain of salt. Whats irony if it doesn't sting a little, right, though Alec does seem to be unfairly coming in for the brunt of it. Chin up, what doesn't break you will only make you stronger. Get some posts going and get back in the game man. I'm sure someone is in his sights next, a Photo Editor or will that bite the hand that feeds him? Now if only kubrick were alive to bring it to the screen. If BP has the same package as Kurt were all up shit creek.

ROAD TO MOROCCO

If I was ever going to hit the height of celebrity highs, this is the iconic image that I would like to be recreate for myself. Beautiful woman, exotic local, indifference to the whole surrounding, fabulous. It is 1960's billionaire John Paul Getty and his beautiful Dutch wife Talitha on the roof of their Marrakesh home, The pleasure Palace. Its a sad image in lots of ways because non of the protagonists are still alive but for me it reflects not only a place in time, but of that new young generation of globe trotters, taken to wearing local costume but still oozing European wealth and flamboyance. Taken in 1969 by the 5th Earl of Lichfield, Patrick Anson, better know as Patrick Lichfield, major celebrity in his own right and no stranger to the lifestyles of his subjects, by his own admission. I bring this up for two reasons. One, I assisted for Patrick years ago and grew very fond of him, a terrific man. After his untimely and shocking passing I tried unsuccessfully to purchase this image from his studio in London, for my own new home. It is my favorite image of his. Maybe if Ian is reading we can again try to get this going. And secondly my wife is in this historic North African City as we speak. I hope she logs on to see this and know that she is safe to enjoy her visit without me waisting every bodies time, spending days on end, trying to recreate this scene with the two of us on any Marrakesh roof top I could find. Oh, apparently I am being brought back a djellaba looking thing JP is wearing so no one is safe at Old Queechy, N.Y. next summer

AutoChrome Redux

Well its happened. The day that we all knew was approaching, the one that would descend upon us like the plague, Leave us nowhere to run and have us ready to sell the shop. No not the Mets missing the playoffs, but close. Chrome, the almost forgotten word in photographers lexicon these days, raised its ugly head to a very young art director last week, a she turned on it like an ugly step child. Alright, so she had never heard of it, but considering its my film of choice and I am very close to it, it was a shocker. Your first time always is. The day is here, the ones born into the digital age are coming home to roost. This is the platform on which many of the great modern photographers based their work, so the far away glaze in her eyes threw me when told her how I work. It was pretty dismaying to find someone in such a position of power? to have never heard or SEEN a positive. I then called it a slide and there was some recognition but it wasn't till I pulled it out and showed her, excuse me, in all its 8x10 glory, that the light bulb went on. Baffled she was. "How do you do photoshop on it, you don't, its all in camera first. " It really was like Christmas morning for a three year. Pure wonderment. Now this wasn't some podunk agency, this was one of the big ones in a large market, and when I showed her the size of the camera, well, if anyone says size doesn't matter.... So this is what we are up against. Everyday someone new and much younger than many of us, joins an agency or magazine and at times it does feel like its back to the drawing board. But hopefully I can use this meeting?, lesson? and parlay it into something at least like a job. For the kiddos all this chrome stuff is new again, little bit like discovering Joy Division 27 years later, and it can be beneficial if you can manipulate it to your advantage but you really do feel father time breathing down you back. Neg people, its not far behind you either.

THE THIRD PERSON

"Not Chelsea or Milan. I want to stay with Barcelona - that is my wish, that is the wish of Ronaldinho."
Words from the worlds greatest living football player. Does this make the BP (Bitter Photographer) the worlds greatest living photographer. Speaking in the third person, is that what I've been missing all this time, damn.

PROJECT DIVERSITY

This is the Queens Council for the Arts in NYC, new project. Going on all through September and November at a gallery near you.

PAGING Dr HEIMLICH!! PAGING Dr HEIMLICH!!

Now that our New York Mets have accomplished something no one in the annals of Major League Baseball has, the greatest choke job in sports (ehhhhh, sorry, Yankees 4-3 lose to the Red Sox must be greater) still, its time for the post mortem to begin. Two New Yorkers have written today on the agony of the every day fan. Both hit right at the core of what it is like to live and die with a sports franchise. Mark Vaccaro in the NY Post and the great Richard Cohen in the Washinton Post. Of course the NY Post came up with the heading