like dominos they fall...

it is true that i have finally mostly transitioned, though kicking and screaming, into the digital realm of photography in my general practice.  it is true that my entire darkroom set up currently haunts, in boxes, every spec of storage space available in my small brooklyn apartment.  that is not to say that i don't fantasize about letting it breathe again in some mythical blacked out barn on some imaginary property in the country i'll have when i win the lottery.  but for now, yes, i acknowledge that digital has taken me over.
  
i know it's the way the world of photography has gone, but i enjoy partially blaming some of it on the New School.  for two years leading up to my enrollment at said university, i flipped through the course guide and circled countless darkroom classes i planned to take.  although i expressed these intentions in my application, i embarked upon my first semester clueless to the fact that the darkroom where these fabled classes would occur had been torn down. when i finally became hip to this change, i was told that all of the equipment from the new school darkroom had been donated to the parsons darkroom, where i would be allowed to take classes.  but when parsons figured out ways to get around that promise i was funneled to the Educational Alliance, an incredible community force whose art school boasted alumnus such as Barnett Newman, Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko.  it was at the Educational Alliance, not the New School as I'd imagined, where i found a home in a darkroom.  


now the Art School at the Educational Alliance faces a similarly vague and sneaky fate at the hands of a building renovation.  


To read a very thorough explanatory article by the Lo-Down:  click here

To Sign a petition of support:  click here

My petition comment below: 
I came to the Educational Alliance in 2005 when the New School University replaced its historic (built during Berenice Abbott's reign as instructor) darkroom with a wide hallway. The betrayal I felt by the mindless demolition of the very reason I enrolled at the New School has not faded in the passing years. I was lucky at that time, however, to be welcomed by The Educational Alliance to finish my current semester at their lovely darkroom. I had such a great experience that I continued for several semesters at the Educational Alliance, despite continuing my full course-load at the New School. Michael Macioce was one of the finest and most inspiring instructors I have had the honor to learn from. It makes me very sad to contemplate the thought of the endangering of another historic and important art program due to thoughtless plans for renovation.



and finally, me standing proudly by my work displayed at credit suisse, an opportunity brought to me by the educational alliance--not the new school.

rez's mom

tuesday, 24 february 2009 rez's mom

it's another poll. which one do you prefer, and why? these two benefit from clicking to enlarge. i'm most interested in the sparkle the sunlight gives to little details like hair, eyes. and the fine lines that women try to hide, yet, how beautiful she is.

STILL sister

sunday, 15 february 2009 haleythey say you can't choose your family. i have been lucky enough to forge true friendships with my two sisters--we're all so different that perhaps we never would have met within a group of strangers. yet we share something very special.

additionally, you can't choose your "in-laws", even though you usually choose your partner. luckily for me, the partner i chose has an adorably sweet little brother who i've adopted as my own puppy, and he chose my dear haley.

so to review: you can't choose your family. you can choose your partner. but you can't choose your partners family or the partners they choose. so you're lucky if you like them. wow, i'm truly on the road to philosophy, no?

born from all of these limitations is my friendship with haley. she has become my little sister in the most organic, non-forced way--through preparing for a quick wedding, through sharing stories and rolling our eyes at our turkish brothers, through enduring conflicts from crazy people, through fallling asleep on each other's couches (okay, so that's mostly my habit). all of this, i appreciate.

today she is 25. just a little kitten. and what a fine model!

the title to this post is an inside joke. i apologize for publishing inside jokes. they are annoying. but that's the power of an inside joke. it takes over.

mystery valentine

oops, sorry for the lag. been dropping many of the balls i'm trying to juggle. but you forgive me, right? say you forgive me?
okay. atonement out of the way. let's proceed.

saturday, 14 february 2009 mystery valentinei always take random test shots before i ask anyone to pose because i find that first moment they look at the camera to be the best one, 75% of the the time. and if the exposure's off? really annoying. most of the time these test shots aren't in focus. they are not composed. the ground, my leg, the wall. this shot shouldn't have been any different, as i sat at enid's--my favorite east coast brunch spot--about to photograph kathleen. but when i looked over my shots this mystery girl pulled me into the frame with her intense gaze that even soft focus and paper flowers couldn't obscure. this is what i'd call a happy accident. i just couldn't throw her away. and so, she gets to be my mystery valentine.

notice

friday, 13 february 2009 peajay
peajay is a damn good tattoo artist and generally a very pleasant, laid-back guy. he hasn't worked at the shop too long so i don't really know much more about him than that. still, it was a big bummer when, this day, he gave notice. bought a house and moving to mass with his wife, thank you. and now, since our other artist departed a couple weeks ago, it's left us in a scrambling situation to make big decisions about the fate of the shop. cross fingers. click on photos for enlarged view. and as usual, please help me in my editing process.

bored and boring

thursday, 12 february 2009 rez's friendto be fair, she didn't know us and her plans had been completely derailed for the evening. instead of being at some fabulous party, she was sitting in a tattoo shop after hours while we all worked out travel arrangements for an upcoming business trip and her friend gave the boss accupuncture. perhaps i'd be bored too. but come on, it's non-stop fun around us! yawn.

and i'm not using the above following photo officially because i want to keep rez up my sleeve for later. but wanted to share. she's in school for accupunture. yikes. i've already refused her generous offers of treatment. the boss did smile with glee after the treatment and declare himself to be feeling really good.

rez and i both got a kick out of this needle being stuck in the foot of the tattoo--double power!

ten-four big red

wednesday, 11 february 2009 ladyfriend
still haven't found a tenant for the beautifully lit sublet. so it continues to be the place where i do homework.
a friend of a friend called me up all excited about the place. this was before i got all cynical from traipsing down to red hook daily only to be turned down. so i was so excited by his enthusiasm that i didn't even have a chance to object when he said, let me get back to you after i talk to my ladyfriend. ladyfriend? first of all, no couples allowed, and second....ladyfriend?
i imagined him holding his cb radio in one had while the other hand idly twirled the greased ends of his handlebar mustache. imagine my surprise when she walked in.and i'm sorry, i can't remember her real name because ladyfriend? too classic.

really between the two shots. tell me which you prefer...
oh, and, they didn't take the place because he also forgot to mention his dogfriend, the pitbull.

a starry night in brooklyn

tuesday, 10 february 2008 barbarabarbara chose to commemorate three major surgeries/accidents of her life each with a big star. the design, as all tattoos do, evolved through a combination of idea and aesthetics, a healthy dose of listening to suggestions and closing ears to others. most relevant in the end (of course in addition to the original idea) became the trademark hand of the artist (boss of mine), who uses these stars in nearly all of his drawings and the felicitous juxtaposition of the brownish stars with the galaxy of freckles already swirling on barbara's arm (click on photo for better view of this phenomenon).
it is fitting that barbara came into my life via her last surgury, for which mieke served as her physical therapist. no, wait! mieke was with her for that last accident! mieke originally was her therapist for the previous injury. and barbara is just one of those people that you want to know--with equal parts listening ear, yarn-spinning tongue and oversized heart. yep, she's a star.

"we should have been brother and sister!"

wednesday, 04 february 2009 josejose said it as we stood sandwiched between artful new yorkers at the highline ballroom. we were gossiping, and as usual, we were nodding our heads at each other saying things like, "i know exactly how you feel", and "i totally do the same thing".

and it's true. jose started out as my boss--the boss everyone but me feared. he respected me and the work i did and so he praised me and treated me gently, like a kitten--or a little sister. between visits we do a lot of "we HAVE to get together", until finally, one of us gets stuck with an extra ticket to a concert and we share. we've done this 6 or 7 times, it seems. sometimes spontaneity is the best and most successful plan in the overscheduled, fast paced world of new york city.
this night was cold. really cold. but i delighted in the luxury of getting a ride from home to the show and back again. in a car. i pretended i was rich folk and wore heels and a dress and just a jacket. no seven layers of tights and thermals and undersweaters and hats and double gloves and diaper scarves. i still died on that one block walk to the venue. after the show i sat in the car shivering and pre-setting my camera and the plan. okay jose: i'm gonna run out and get the focus. then i'm gonna wave to you and you run out and stand right there. and try not to scream. and at 9 degrees my fingers would barely move and i'm just lucky he's in the picture plane at all!

and we ran back to the car shaking and squealing and me screaming TURN THE HEATER ON!!!

p.s. would anyone care to join me in scratching their heads in wonder that next month we will celebrate jose's 50th birthday? what?

p.p.s. oh, is it valentine's day? what's that?

p.p.p.s. jose was day 1 of my assignment. the first.

connection

thursday, 05 february 2009

john was my teacher. he's a brilliant and humorous speaker. when the end of my semester came and he asked me to be his teaching assistant, i jumped at the chance, not because it pays well, but for the same reason his devoted people come back every semester, year after year, to sit in his classroom, complain as they do that it's too hot, too cold. just to hear him talk about art. he expands my mind and continues to facilitate my understanding of something that a few years ago seemed beyond my grasp. and he mixes his yale vocabulary with a goofiness that is so endearing.

incidentally, i've also done finances and photoshop work for his wife, tended to his plants in his glorious carroll gardens brownstone while he vacationed, and then there was the introduction to a now infamous artist to whom i've devoted my professional life in the past year. a pivot point.

here you see him with his handy, homemade--not quite perfect but makeshift pointer which replaced his holy grail perfect pointer of old. i also love the way his colorfully patterned, untucked shirts bear the awkward creases as if they've each come fresh out of a plastic package.


your favorite? hit the comments.

oh, but wait! john was my subject last thursday, so in the week that has elapsed, i had forgotten my inspiration, what i was going to say about him. i only remember that i forgot it (yes, i'm so helpful to myself). it was something about john being the person i communicate with the most via eye contact. he communicates timing to me with his eyes and i advance the slides. luckily, he has lovely eyes.

warning: homework alert

i've assigned myself the task of photographing somebody different every day this semester for my visual diary class. i believe this idea popped into my head as a direct rebellion to spending a semester photographing myself for my photographic self portrait class. initially i wanted to somehow standardize the photos so they would work together but this idea was met with protest from my very encouraging instructor. so i've let them develop (hee hee, photographer's pun!) as they will, as they surely would have anyway without the in-class lashing. most of the images are taken very quickly, with no real time to overanalyze. and i think that's good. i'm already half a week behind in sharing them with you, so without further ado, i'll just start from yesterday.

sunday, 8th of february, 2009
cristina wanted to sublet that hypothetical place so badly. still in detroit, she almost declared she'd take it sight unseen. for her i held off on calling many craigslisters. for her i rearranged my schedule and then my weekend schedule. when she pulled up in a mercedes (okay, so it wasn't hers, but still, you don't find me riding around in a 'cedes) i knew it wasn't good news for our little hypothetical funky studio.
she really didn't like the carpet. who could blame her? but look at that gorgeous light! she was a good sport though, and allowed me to photograph her in our probably only five minutes ever of acquaintance. NEXT!

running of the mouth

okay, so finally i can take down the nablopomo icon on the right. for those of you who were confused as to why i just wouldn't stop posting in november despite having nothing of worth to say (as opposed to all of those other months that i'm writing epic novels)--it was a challenge. a very tedious and silly challenge that i got much worth from but also drove me kind of crazy. nablopomo stands for national blog posting month. you get the idea. there are over 10,000 people registered, so you feel a kind of kinship in checking in with other sites and sensing their dual frustration. i felt such relief on the day it was over, and ironically, had to fight the urge to write a post to tell you about that big relief. then for a few days i felt like i could never bring myself to post again. and now, back to feeling normal. i know. you really appreciate hearing these mundane details. you really appreciate nablopomo for loosening my very tight lips...

so on to other topics of inundation and tedious challenges driving me kind of crazy: the self portrait class. i can't tell you how tired i am of taking pictures of myself. and what an absolutely horrible model i am. and yet, some of you continue to want to see my homework, so i'll give it to you and qualify as the world's most narcissistic blogger, which is quite a distinction, considering the twisted nature of posting your journal online every day....

for last week's assignment, each of us was handed an index card declaring a body part that our next self portrait had to emphasize. i was given 'mouth'. this was true torture considering it's the body part i've grappled the most with this class. i've learned that i haven no control over my mouth (hey, and i'm not talking about the drivel that pours forth from it--though that, in this case, would fall under the culpability of 'hands'). apparently when i think i'm looking neutral, i'm scowling. when i think i'm smiling, i'm smirking. when i think i'm relaxed, you can see my flexed jaw muscles. very attractive. very frustrating.i was also coming up with zero ideas and getting quite irritated with myself for being such a wasteland of inspiration. then i solved the problem in the way that works best every time--pulling out the damn camera and just shooting. having no 'big plan', i scoffed at my images but my class was shockingly happy with the results.

our lady of moisture

a few days ago, i asked you to all to grace my comment section with a sentence describing me. this was not merely a cheap tactic for ego boosting--though next time i need one, i surely will consult your responses. jeez! you guys are nice!

my assignment, of course, was for my photographic self portrait class. i was supposed to illustrate a sentence written about me via a photograph.

perhaps i should have clued you in to my intentions, because the responses i got, while supremely kind, didn't much lend themselves to the assignment. additionally, my teacher's preference was to ask a semi-stranger for the line...which prettty much left you out in the cold. thankfully, i met a friend of rafter's who was willing to offer up the following:

the sparkly, ginger-topped kitty joe gave me moisturizer i had previously refused.

while the sentence was grounded in mundane reality (rafter asked that i school his drummer in the difference between day and night moisturizer as a way to deter his habit of slathering his face with rafter's night moisturizer twice a day), my mind spun off into the divine, the religious, the kitch. the virgin mary. hopefully the above image made you think of something along the lines of this treasure brought from mexico by kim and tristan:

i imagined our lady of moisture dispensing lotion and more to the parched, withered and bored. the gold frame from the dollar store was a total necessity for presenting the image, as was the sharpie i wrote on the glass identifying our idol as 'our lady of moisture'. convinced?

the outtakes:
i thought maybe the dripping pool of lotion may offend some sensibilities (cause i'm so good at caring about that!), so i tried one with the bottle.


the third shot happened as i walked toward the camera as the self timer was already set.

abi

today haley and emir got to experience the madness firsthand that usually only emre gets to see. that of me doing my self-portrait class homework. first it consists of me trying five million different ridculous ways of securing my camera into as suitable position, usually resorting to the use of electrical tape and various t-shirts and boxes to prop it up to the right angle. all because i don't have a tripod. whose stupid idea was it to take a self-portrait class without a tripod? i guess it was mine. then they got to see me doing stupid things with chotchskis from the 99 cent store and donning silly costumes and make up. emir was kind enough to be a stand in model for my focus. assignment to follow. it's so not done yet though.
what i've learned: i'm a terrible model. have no idea nor control whatsoever over what my face is doing. had to prop up a mirror to get anything decent at all!

help! i need yours!

alright, internet, it's time to pony up. i need your help with my homework. listen, it can't be all fun and games over here all the time.

i know, i know. i'm a cruel person. and worse--it's going to involve MAKING A COMMENT. gasp! i know, heaven forbid. but i especially need you lurkers. i especially need those of you who don't necessarily know me that well.

so here's the deal. i have a homework assignment. i won't tell you what the final outcome will be (till next week when you hopefully see it for yourself). but...

what i need from you is this: WRITE A SENTENCE ABOUT KITTY JOE. a descriptive sentence. that's it. write it in the comment section. just click on the (0) comments at the bottom of this post and write! you don't have to sign in. you can just write your name or anonymous.

now get to it! the time of turkey and laziness isn't for another few days.

please? how about this--i'll send a PRIZE to the person whose sentence is used for the assignment. now don't everyone crash bloggers site at once....

hide 'n seek

rushing off to class. here's my homework. it took me ALL day.

new york, thanks for delivering

remember when you were thirteen years old and K-R-E-O or whatever equivalent radio station you listened to asked you to call in for prizes? be the 9th caller and win concert tickets, the chance to meet the glamorous djs at the sonoma county fair...yeah, i never won either.

my niece, on the other hand, seems to be blessed with a bit of luck, as she called in to radio disney and won a trip for 2 to new york city, boutique hotel on the upper west side and vip passes to the regis and kelly show. i know. pretty fancy.

so i crammed two days of work into one very stressful day yesterday so i could be the tour guide to her and my sister. so i'm lying in a manhattan bed reading my complimentary copy of the new york times listening to the taxis below while they follow cue card prompts for applause at abc studios.

allyson, being the thirteen year old celebrity hound that we all were (at least, in my family), asked me immediately, "auntie kitty, do you think we'll get to see any famous people?" this obsession started a few years ago when she mailed me a key chain attachable mini-sharpie pen to take to my catered events, where i could lose my job for soliciting autographs. and yet, didn't i endure the humiliation of nick lachey calling me 'allyson' and thinking my 11-year niece was an excuse to talk to him? and did i not interrupt ashley olsen in the middle of her entourage at the museum of natural history gala? i did. because i was desperate to make her happy.

well this time, i figured she was out of luck. the chances of her running into a celebrity in one day in new york are slim, right? the pressure! ah, how i underestimated my fair city. jessica simpson in the airport (okay, so it was in san francisco, but still, new york gets dibs because she was already en route). christian slater in front of starbucks. so what if she didn't know who he was? amy and i were excited and i got that thrill of feeling really old when explaining he was the bees knees back in our day. two blocks further, new york backed me up with a christian slater tv show billboard she noticed.

and the ultimate--sitting at dinner at vyn*l (um, i think that's how it's spelled, but who knows. the star could be misplaced. this creative spelling, by the way, cost me an extra buck when i called information and they said, 'no listing for VINYL'. cute. very cute) allyson asked me about parson school of design.

niece: auntie kitty, do you know about parsons school of design, where they film project runway? it's my favorite show.
me: why yes, allyson, in fact (cool points ratcheting skyward) it's actually called 'parsons the new school for design'. it's part of my new school.
niece: oh my gosh, that's so cool! i want to go there and be a fashion designer.

ah, how things change, especially aided by reality tv. last i checked, she wanted to be a brain surgeon. but that's the fun of being thirteen.

the next ten minutes were filled with inquiries into the possibilities of me running into anyone at project runway at my school and if we could go there and then of course, the possibilities of her running into anyone from project runway. i told her that, actually, i had run into christian, last season's winner, at the cringe book release after party. but we didn't exactly exchange words. meaning, i sat at the table along with everyone else pretending not to know who he was, while smirking, which is stupid because i don't have a tv.

and then.

and then allyson gasped because at some point during this line of questioning, SOMEONE FROM PROJECT RUNWAY HAD SAT AT THE TABLE TWO FEET FROM US.

niece: oh my gosh, oh my gosh, it's SUEDE!!!!
i would have never known. it leads you to wonder how many celebrities your sorry, unschooled in pop culture ass walks, eats and drinks among in new york city. lucky for them that i'm so clueless.

clever name for a designer, by the way. the next twenty minutes were spent with allyson waffling back and forth about talking to him. he appeared to be out on a date with a cute boy, or 'with a friend' as a thirteen year old mind would think. i worried he would give attitude, be upset. but on the contrary, he jumped up and said to her, "oh my god! i've been staring at you and your cute hat all night!" He hugged all of us, encouraged her to follow her dream of being a designer, posed for photographs and gave her his card.

she's beaming. so i repeat: new york, thanks for delivering. oh, and Suede, thanks for being sweet.

honey, it's time to do your homework

time for everybody's favorite. it's wednesday-what's-going-on-in-my-self-portrait-class, otherwise known as 'look at me me me me'.

the challenge: to photograph myself at 80 years old.

the product:the idea: pretty simple. i was away in turkey so i pretended to be an 80 year old turkish woman.

the result?: you tell me.

the outtakes:

with all due respect

maria: "what class did you just come from?"

me: "photographic self portrait. wouldn't be my first choice, but at this point, i'm getting near the end of the list of photography offerings. plus, it's a teacher i've had before and love. i'd take his class even if it was only about....(thinking hard to come up with something ridiculously off-putting)....standing around staring at holes in the ground full of shit.

maria: "my dad teaches that class."

me: "oh, right--archeology!"

the markers of identity

homework due today: photograph someone else as you.

what an interesting assignment! i was immediately excited by it--an unusual reaction to an assignment. my usual internal response to homework, specifically in photography classes is dread. lame, i know. what does this say about me as a photographer? answer: i'm terrified of living up to others' expectations. what do i do?!

with this one, though, i knew just what to do. emre. my lover as me. simple. on the couch.

then i reconsidered. it seemed like a cheap shot. dress a man in drag. well, i'd use a woman if she were my lover, but a man is what i got.

i felt lazy though, imagining the hyper-creativity and uber-impressive technique twists my classmates would employ to approach this assignment. but then i scolded myself for judging by comparison, just as i would discourage a friend in doing. sure, it's great to be inspired by others, but to abandon my very clear inspiration out of a feeling of inadequacy just wouldn't do. let me be inadequate, but let me be myself.

am i just making excuses? regardless, i was excited. as i said, such an interesting assignment. i was forced to distill my own identity markers. at least superficially, physically, what represents me? i discovered that these physical markers are not necessarily strictly superficial. even if you shop only at old navy, it still says something about your personality. these are conscious choices--expressions--i should say.

so i started out by giving my long red wig a haircut. this wig is leftover from my highly successful jessica rabbit costume, and has been used so many times by myself and others that it's a knotty mess anyway. no great sacrifice.

selected a nice vintage dress of the kind that stocks nearly half of my closet. a trademark since my teen years.

over-accessorized with jewelry because with me, more is always more.

a touch of make up.red toenail polish. my hands may always be a ragged mess, but you'll find my toes often brightly painted.

the toe ring--a necessity. a nerdy little detail (thanks for noticing, kim!) back in 1995, when i worked at a metaphysical bookstore in good ol' nor-cal, a roaming silver salesman pulled up to my counter with his giant suitcase of glitter and gave me a silver toe ring. i put it on right there in the store and for thirteen years it's never left my toe.

the tattoo is a jackpot. a gorgeous marker. i was amazed at how decently i was able to render it, considering i can't draw to save my life.

the mug? a nod to both my huge desire to sitck my nose in everyone's business in the name of help, as well as my stubbornness and sometimes cocky (!) self-confidence. i admit that i am a strange mix of self confidence and insecurity.

so all of these 'me' details populate the couch where i write, where i read, where i slouch with my laptop. they populate my 'other half'. emre was surprisingly co-operative, as i attempted to costume him in dress after dress and necklace after necklace that wouldn't nearly fit around half of him. he's not the skinny emo-looking guy i met 5 years ago. he only softly mentioned, "you know, i've never done this..." what? imitate your insane, camera-wielding girlfriend? not surprised. no complaints though.
oh. except the wig. the wig! when i put it on him, its synthetic red strands combined with the aggressively, well, aggressive, beard and muscly body shoved into a polyester sheath to look abso-frikin-loutely hideously disgusting! like the most amateur drag queen. like the most pathetic bearded freak show lady (no offense to freak show ladies--surely you all look better than emre did with this wig on).

the wig was bumming me out about the whole project. and emre too.
"it itches! can i take it off while you draw the tattoo?"

okay. okay. already he was agreeably listening to my indie rock whatever i listen to that he hates, to 'channel kitty'. a pretty effective way to force your boyfriend with polar opposite taste in music to listen to yours, by the way. try it sometime. it garnered even less complaints than my old standby--the 'driver always controls the music in the car'. note: this one only works when your boyfriend (like mine) grew up in the city, therefore does not have a drivers license.

so the wig came off. temporarily. and when it did, emre pointed out, "i look more like you without the wig. i mean, we have the same haircut..." true. and really (hopefully), i don't look too much like the drag queen he was conjuring up. so the wig stayed off.
and aha! i decided to use the wig in the shoot anyway. t his was the eureka moment. i would let the wig fall onto the couch below his head area, like i was discarding my red hair, my feminitity. it wasn't emre channelling me, it was me channeling my masculine side, pulling off the mask of kitty....

do you see where i'm going with this? it was the twist i felt i was missing.

and after the tattoo drawing and the extensive coaching of positioning....(can you close your legs? and let me see the tattoo. but not like you're displaying it. oops, and can i see the lettering on the mug, where did the mug go? oh, and foot down so i can see the toe ring. wait, can you close your legs again?)....i forgot about the damn wig. i remembered it when emre was back in his normal clothes and i was wiping the tattoo off with rubbing alcohol. and i imagined the last three hours all for not.and i thought: well, maybe i don't need a twist.and finally, me, the day before, practicing. emre is far more glamorous than me. and prussia? yeah, she refused to pose with emre. she wasn't fooled by the dress. and by the way, this purple dress didn't wrap around half of emre's torso...