Nov/090
Irving Penn: Small Trades 11/24/2009 (Getty Museum)
- Milkman (A), 1951 (Irving Penn)
Putting on your “Sunday Best” is a fascinating construct that has emerged out of a willingness to show devotion to one’s faith by casting aside the grubby clothes and accoutrements of one’s trade and “clean up” for worship. After all, religions are inundated with rules and restrictions on work, and in the eyes of their leadership, a place of worship is wholly separate from the venues of toil. Irving Penn [wiki], however, decided to flip these notions upside down in his “Small Trades” [Official Getty Site] body of work, currently on display at the Getty Museum. With a grungy, but otherwise neutral tarp as his cathedral, Penn zealously worshipped his subjects, portraying them with an emphatic sense of dignity; Penn’s world is one where a sewer cleaner occupies the same proud high-ground as the chief firefighter, and this sense of pride does not seem alien, but genuine. Next to their pride, their humanity also radiates through the prints, and the viewer gets the sense that in addition to respecting these people from all walks of life, Penn truly identified with, and understood them. By inviting these people into his studio along with the tools that so intimately connect the worker to their trade, Penn gave his “religious” icons their “relics,” which in addition to providing context to these often rough figures, crucially enabled them to feel more secure.
This concept of security ties into the psychology that is so integral to the suite; the subjects’ demeanor became an interesting facet to the project, and Penn wrote about the ways in which the different workers responded to his calls for subjects. Parisians were skeptics, questioning the project’s motives, the English were punctual and proud, and Americans thought this was their big break into the entertainment industry, often showing up in their “Sunday Best.” Beyond these written analyses, there are subtle reads into the attitudes of the subjects. In addition to the aforementioned pride demonstrated throughout the spectrum of trades and “stations of life,” the exhibit strategically grouped the professions according to location, enabling a viewer to see how a butcher looked and felt in Paris or New York versus London. In addition to variances in attire and tools, you could detect subtle differences in their countenances.
In addition to the more theoretical aspects of the exhibition, the images themselves are aesthetically stunning. In addition to his abilities as a photographer, marked by his command of light, and his excellent eye for making centrally composed images interesting (either by using dynamic poses, or artfully structuring the tools to draw visual interest to certain elements of the frame), the exhibit brilliantly emphasizes Penn’s virtuosic command of the printing of his images. Many casual examiners of photography lose sight of the fact that the printmaking element of photography is an art in itself. Throughout his career, Penn not only mastered silver halide printmaking, but he also dabbled with Selenium toning methods to bring the most out of his negatives. Perhaps his most important contribution to printing, though, were his experiments and advancement of Platinum/Palladium printing techniques. These methods, wherein the exposed image lies on the substrate surface, as opposed to being suspended in a medium, enabled Penn to get the highest possible tonal range in his prints, while also achieving a perfectly matte image. In comparing prints of the same negative with both printing methods, a stunning array of details emerge. While both prints have stunning values present, the Platinum process prints are truly unforgettable, and they seem to add an extra dimensionality to the hauntingly human portraits.
It was an absolute pleasure to visit this exhibition. I am sure that having been exposed to these images will ultimately inform my ads. Each one of these workers has a story, and their humanity would resonate well. I enthusiastically recommend paying the exhibit a visit before it closes January 10th, 2010.
- Steel Mill Firefighter, (1951) (Irving Penn)
- Irving Penn and Chris Gilbert Design, together at last.
Oct/090
DAN DEACON @ THE EAGLE ROCK CENTER FOR PERFORMING ARTS 10/16/2009
Wow.
So on the bill was Moses Campbell (rad), Nuclear power plants (holy shit, dronemetalravepunk), and DAN FREAKIN’ DEACON.
This was literally one of the greatest shows ever, and I am only blogging about it at 2:00 AM because I want to put my feelings out there fresh off the presses. Pictures hopefully soon.
Sweatiest, danciest, most crowd participatingiest show ever, complete with EPIC lights and dance marathons. So visceral, and loud, and I felt like I was consumed into the crowd to become a self aware hive mind of ROCK. It was seriously primal and full of incredible energy. I was right up next to Dan basically the whole show. For those not in the know, he basically sets up this cluster of rocking pedals and synths and lights and plays the entire show with his back to the crowd, but instead of onstage he is in the pit! I got a sweet Dan Deacon hug and I probably won’t ever wash my sweet demonbabies t-shirt now that it is imbued with the power of the Deacon Sweat™. Gross. Sorry.
He played some raging tunes (all of my faves, including Ohio!!!) and we did some crazy interpretive dances and a giant collaborative snake around the building project which I will call “They will know us by the trail of hipsters.” Maybe too difficult to explain, but trust~ it was incredible.
THEN THE BEST PART, which is maybe deserving of a separate post? I dunno… THE BEST PART (maybe even better than Dan Deacon? It’s tough… But certainly more “unique…”: I picked up these two dude hitch hikers outside of the show as I was leaving, who needed a ride to a bar. So I did what any normal, self respecting person would do! I took them. To a bar called “Footsies.” One was a pretty large dude with long hair, and the other was from Colombia. Both mid thirties. Both BLASTED. I drop them off and they insist that they buy me a beer. Each. Pretty funny. Colombia told me about his love life trials and tribulations, and they both kept introducing me to their friends as their hero. Lots of hugs with strangers. Lots of arms around my shoulder telling me about how I was a beautiful person and the beers wouldn’t be enough but somehow I’d be thanked for being so “beautiful.” One of their girlfriends grabbed my ass. I was offered many illegal narcotics. I was totally out of my element, but what a story, hey? I had my beers and I departed mysteriously into the night. PAY IT FORWARD, PEOPLE! So far my worst fears about them spiking my drinks have gone un-answered. Thank god. I LIVE TO TELL ANOTHER TALE!
Also the Dodgers won today. 1-1. My boys in blue dropped game one of the NLCS in 1988… The rest is history, heeehee.
Tomorrow UCLA vs. Cal at the rosebowl! I am going with my Cousin Matt, his girlfriend Adina, and my Aunt… They’re all big Cal fans, so I gotta step it up for the BRU-CREW! GO BRUINS.
Good night.
Sep/090
FYF Fest 09/05/2009 @ Los Angeles State Historic Park (?!) “Hipster Woodstock”
F Yeah!
This was an obscene amount of fun.
A few of Gabe’s buddies hit up my apartment and chilled for a while, and we grabbed some hot wings on Colorado Blvd., then we hopped on the Yellow line from my apartment to Chinatown to see one of the most insane lineups of music I’ve heard of in a while.
We get there to encounter a gigantic line for Will Call, but some crafty line cutting manouvres later, and finding the shorter $8 ticket line, we finally made it in.
First on our agenda was fuzzed out, psych garage, “beach punk” of Wavves. His set was short but sweet. His drummer had an epic mane of metal hair, and they were down to rock. The droney, haunting, high pitched harmony yells were a great additional texture for the songs, and the crowd was super into it!!
The next in line was to be Dan Deacon, but he canceled last minute. Shit. Oh well. He was replaced by garage punk outfit “Carbonas” who I enjoy in recorded form but the vocals seemed a bit flat live. This fact was rectified by their pretty decent musicianship. It still rocked!
We stayed at the “Oak” stage for local heroes Mika Miko, who rampaged through a frenetic, rockin’ set. One of the two female vocalists has this amazing red telephone that they have amplified, and they wail through it! One of the girls also had a lust-worthy T.V. Yellow Gibson SG!
One of the arguably best sets was next- Me and the guys pushed forward to be in the pit for my all time favorites, the Thermals. Hutch wore an amazing Sleater Kinney shirt to fully rep the Oregon vibe, and they blew us away with an incredible set full of favorites old and new. Before they launched into their first song, Hutch and I went back and forth bantering about his mic check noises. A few of my smartass replies put a smile onto his face- and he replied, kindly enough, by playing a set that put a smile on mine. The pit got pretty crazy and we kicked up a ton of dust. Dancing and singing caused a problem in that when we left the pit, my entire being was coated in a film of dust, including my mouth and teeth. Gross! Worth it.
Dazed, dazzled, and starting to feel exhausted, we boldly tread towards the “Redwood Stage” where we would ultimately finish our night.
Hardcore stalwarts, “Fucked Up” took the stage and instantly a gigantic slam dance mosh circle materialized. The brutality and violence of the music instantly transmitted to the blood/sweatsoaked crowd, and it surged out of them in an orgy of flailing bodies, human catapaultings, stage dives, and what looked to be fights. Frontman Damian Abraham’s vitrolic screams, and over the top showmanship helped make this a memorable ruckus indeed, and he had it right when he did an improvisational rap declaring the Fuck Yeah Fest “Hipster Woodstock, coz we’re playing hipster punk rock”. Impressive stuff. My ears are still ringing!
Next up for me was the night’s second biggest disappointment, following the Dan Deacon cancellation. Tim & Eric of Tim & Eric Awesome Show Great Job! Took to the stage amidst an atmosphere of anticipation. I find their CD pretty entertaining, but they didn’t play anything I recognized, and their presence was a bit flat. I wasn’t too sad to see their set end.
They made way for No Age, another band of LA heroes. Their set reverberated with musical skill, and there was an amazing amount of cans being used as showers… It was raining soda and cheap beer and the effect was visually stunning! They played proficiently and it was a really good set.
Finally, we pushed forward to the pit for Black Lips, which ended up being the perfect cap to a pretty perfect day! The pit became a wall of humanity that bobbed, weaved, and pulsated in unison. Crowd surfing, total loss of personal space, bumping and grinding ensured that everybody will have gotten their quota for human contact for the foreseeable future. Their set was rowdy, and totally brilliant. They played a mix of favorites spanning most of their career, and “Bad Kids” might have been track of the day. Energetic, enthusiastic, and unstoppable.
When the dust settled, we were exhausted, and we had to take a cab home because the last train had departed 5 minutes prior to us arriving at the station… But the general consensus was, that despite our exhaustion, we were sad it was over. We were thoroughly rocked.
Thanks FYF Fest, see you next year!
Sep/094
Ween 9/02/2009 @ Grove of Anaheim
More like the Grobe of Anaheim, am I right?
Anyway, I went to this show courtesy of my friend Jamie, who is really close friends with my brother Gabe.
As many of you may or may know, I am a massive Ween fan, and this was my 6th Ween Show.
As bummed as I was that the venue was in Anaheim, the guys totally rocked it, and it was up there with the best.
I’ll let the set list speak for itself:
01- she wanted to leave
02- light me up (before you kill me)
03- piss up a rope
04- learnin’ to love
05- porkroll egg and cheese
06- did you see me?
07- voodoo lady
08- albino sunburn girl
09- spinal meningitis (got me down)
10- she’s your baby
11- stay forever
12- take me away
13- the grobe (for the grove)
14- papa zit
15- puerto rican power (don’t get too 2 close 2 my fantasy tease)
16- gabrielle
17- springtheme
18- my own bare hands
19- booze me up and get me high
20- frank
21- the mollusk
22- your party
23- tear for eddie
24- don’t get 2 close (2 my fantasy)
25- sorry charlie
26- i’ll be your johnny on the spot
27- the goin’ gets tough from the getgo
28- drifter in the dark
Encore-
29- buckingham green
30- object
31- ohio/ tender situation
32- what deaner was talkin’ about
33- roses are free
Fantastic. Masterful musicianship, and appreciative crowd, and smoke thick enough to cut with a bendy straw.
It’s always sad when Ween depart, leaving melted faces and ecstatic music fans in their wake. Jamie loved his first Ween show, and I’m ready for another encore!
Aug/090
Deerhunter 8/27/2009 @ Eagle Rock Center for the Arts
This was sort of last minute, and it was absolutely riotous.
The kickoff to a film festival honoring bikes, Deerhunter took the stage in a venue unlike most I’ve been to. A long narrow hall with columns flanking the crowd proved an intimate setting, and Deerhunter maximized the space with their far reaching, far out sounds. They jammed through their set with a relaxed ease belying the frantic, often jangled collage of distorted sounds. They rocked so hard at one point that the power supplying the makeshift stage went out and there was a brief interruption. When the festivities resumed, front-man Bradford Cox jibed “Okay that was our FIRST set. Round two is all Grateful Dead covers!”
Jokes aside, they meant business, and played a flowing set. The most unique moment, however, was the post-encore sound collage which lasted about 15 minutes on its own. With the trailing sounds of the encore song ending, Deerhunter (led by Cox) began to manipulate the feedback with their impressive array of distortion and effects pedals into a long, coked out tapestry of sound that left a major part of the crowd confused/irritated/and quite frankly lost. Some left, and those who did missed out on a harmonic explosion… A bittersweet symphony of fuzzed out, drone-tastic feedback sounds that actually ended up sounding totally coherent, if not a bit loud.
The spontaneous nature of the outing really made it worthwhile for me. I had only decided to go like 2 days before the show, and it ended up being a great night!
Aug/090
Fishboy (Round 1) 8/23/2009 @ Tribal Cafe
My friend Justin is the Bassist in the seriously rad band “Fishboy.”
It was no surprise, then, that when they arrived in LA for a set at the Tribal Cafe that they’d have at least one “superfan” in the wings waiting for it.
I show up at 7, to watch the end of a Jazz set, before the night’s festivities acts arrived. Hilight was this sweet Jazz guitar solo:
Sweet Jazz Guitar Solo... Didn't catch the band name.
After that ended, the night’s scheduled festivities began.
Some local acts would precede the touring lineup of Fishboy, Iji, and Watercolor paintings.
First up were local industrial folk trio “Black Sparrow Press.” One of the guitarists had a Woody Guthrie homage on his guitar… “This Machine Kills Six-Packs.” Fitting, as at times the trio did have a very Guthrie-referencing repertoire, their Folk ravings inspired in equal parts by the Dust Bowl Troubadour and their home roots of San Pedro.
Black Sparrow Press
Uke!!
Black Sparrow Press Kicks out the Jamz
After Black Sparrow Press’ Screamy Folky goodness, the drummer/uke-ist stayed on to assist local singer songwriter Sean Arenas, or “Sean Homemade” if you prefer. His acoustic set was really subdued in comparison, but he made up for that with meaning, and emotion. He is a talented songwriter that I am looking forward to following.
Sean Homemade
Sean’s set was too short, but with many bands to run through, time was of the essence. Next up was a spirited duo who I think called themselves the Bromantics. They announced that they’d started the band last Thursday (!!) and so the name wasn’t totally finalized. They do power poppy jams, and the guy and girl swapped instruments (guitar/drums) halfway through the set. Slight edge to the guy on guitar, girl on drums, but it was a fun set nonetheless.
Bromantics
After the dancing subsided, fishboy were to take the stage. In between the other sets I got a good chance to get to talk with the guys, who were really appreciative of the fact that I’d showed up in their t-shirt.
Fishboy Taking the Stage
They tore into the set with gusto, and I got some great video footage… The hilight being the final set where Justin handed the final song selection over to yours truly! Between Taqueria girl and Proper Name Spelling Bee, the choice was clear: Spelling. They ended with it and it was a rip roarer… The crowd seemed equally into it, and I’d made the right choice!
Locked and Loaded.
Justin Slappin' de Bass
Adam tickling the Ivories
It was hard to see them leave the stage. They looked and sounded so comfortable up there!
Next up, Iji, who Justin described as “Calypso Fishboy.” Excellent. I met their singer, Zach who seemed really enthusiastic. Their set really took me by surprise. It was phenomenal, and I remarked to him after that performing looked cathartic, and a relief for him. He agreed. His enthusiasm and love of music is infectious and shone through his performance. Amazing.
Iji
After Iji, local (Santa Barbara) favorites Watercolor paintings quietly took the stage. A Sister (harp) Brother (Uke) duo that had to compete with the refrigerator sounds in the Cafe during their blissfully serene and warm set. Beautiful stuff. Contemplative.
Watercolor Paintings
Having lulled the crowd into contemplative relaxation, the curtain call band, Local act “Big Whoop” ended things with a bang. Fun orchestral pop rock made an impression. I look forward to big things from them.
Big Whoop!
After some goodbyes, the Fishboy gang pressed me into coming up with them tomorrow to see the show at Biko Garage in Santa Barbara. Who was I to turn down that kind of offer? I will report on it, assuming I am not rocked into oblivion!
Aug/090
Jay Reatard @ Amoeba 8/18/2009
This was incredible for a few reasons:
1. Free
2. Took the metro rail from my apartment to basically a block and a half away.
3. Stood in the very front, literally 3 feet from the stage.
4. His sound check was the greatest free-flowing heckling fest I’ve ever witnessed. The Amoeba sound guy was inept, and Jay basically had his way with the poor guy behind the boards. When the sound guy reprimanded him for his language: “Seriously? Motherfucking Seth Rogan uses more profanities than I fucking do. PG-13 Amoeba. Fuck.”
5. The set raged. Totally angry, psychedelic, and ruthless. Energy, explosive loudness, and total enthusiasm.
6. Post show signing, he drew devil horns and signed the cover of the new LP for me.
7. Because I was in the front, he decided to have a long chat with me. He was glad I was so enthusiastic/dancing/pumped, and he told me about how he was the highest he’s ever been.
8.
Yeah!
More Photos:
Chuggin a brew
Rockin' the flying V @ Amoeba 8/18/2009