4th of July, 2013

image

Evocative photos of men who were around for the American Revolution. They make you imagine those times, before pretty much everything we now see around us even existed.

Fast-forward 200+ years. I look around and I see a nation of flinty, hard-working, well-educated, modest people. Who are proud of their nation’s gains but constantly work together to improve, resulting in a country ranked at or near the top of most quality of life surveys. Who have civilized, highly-advanced, safe, cultured cities, which people enjoy yet also crave the rustic life of their rural cottages, where they can get their hands dirty and enjoy the simple, even austere, pleasures of their ancestors. You can really sense the thread back to our early founding fathers in these people, and appreciate the fine results of those long-ago sacrifices.

Then I remember I’m in Finland.

They’ve only been independent for almost 100 years, so still time to make a mess of things. But it’s impossible not to notice how Finnish society gets so many hard things right and we seem to get even the easy stuff wrong these days. Of course I understand we are infinitely different countries, and the complexity and size of America makes everything more difficult.

On this 4th of July abroad, I think about what I love about my country and wouldn’t trade for anything. But being away also gives quite of bit of perspective. Yes, many things have improved in the big picture over our long haul, not least the situation for minorities and women compared to past generations. And I know what you’re thinking, yes, the US even with its flaws can be a pretty exciting (ahem) place compared with the sometimes bland perfection of the Nordic countries.

Yet we are up to our eyeballs in so much that shames the legacy of those who created this country. I don’t have to list our ills. Frankly we probably wouldn’t even agree about what the ills are, though that would be a helpful first step.

Instead of (or at least in addition to) an annual spectacle of mindless whoosh-bang-bang, I wish we could use the 4th of July as a annual reminder of the need for self-improvement, for reexamining priorities, shedding petty baggage, and renewing our internal sense of the social contract. Not to be a buzzkill, but it would be great if we could get in the habit of remodeling ourselves as worthy heirs to this country. I used to think of the US as innately tending toward continual, almost compulsive self-improvement.

We certainly seem to have gotten away from that in many regards, to put it kindly.

The Spring Tune

Brushing off some music I’ve had in my pocket for some time, hopefully I’ll be doing some recording over the winter. This came to mind, poetic words for creativity in general from a children’s book by Finnish author and illustrator Tove Jansson. If you don’t know The Moomins (which means most Americans), you’re missing out:

It’s the right evening for a tune, Snufkin thought. A new tune, one part expectation, two parts sadness, and for the rest, just the great delight of walking alone and liking it.

He had kept this tune under his hat for several days but hadn’t quite dared to take it out yet. It had to grow into a kind of happy conviction. Then, he would simply have to put his lips to the mouth organ, and all the notes would jump instantly into their places.

If he released them too soon they might get stuck crossways and make only a half-good tune, or he might lose them altogether and never be in the right mood to get hold of them again. Tunes are serious things, especially if they have to be jolly and sad at the same time.

But this evening Snufkin felt rather sure of his tune. It was there, waiting, nearly full-grown – and it was going to be the best he ever made.

Then, when he arrived in Moominvalley, he’d sit on the bridge rail and play it, and Moomintroll would say at once: That’s a good one. Really a good one.

- from “The Spring Tune”, Tales From Moominvalley

Waiting Room Review

tumblr_m26louU3sP1qz5g5zo1_500.jpg
tumblr_m26louU3sP1qz5g5zo2_500.jpg
tumblr_m26louU3sP1qz5g5zo3_500.jpg
tumblr_m26louU3sP1qz5g5zo4_500.jpg

Nice review of The Waiting Room over on the phot(o)lia blog.

http://photolia.tumblr.com/post/20511639880/the-waiting-room-bill-crandall

Belarus, a post-Soviet country “squeezed between Europe and Russia”. The most common association is probably Chernobyl and current political regime referred to as “the last dictatorship in Europe”. No surprise that those few photographers who get to that part of Europe focus on one of those issues. Bill Crandall did something very different. He came to Belarus to document everyday life and he spent one decade visiting the country: observing, learning, reflecting. [S]ome images are just surreal, others are very intimate, many are captivating but all of them create beautiful and intriguing narratives […].

full post

Wings of Desire

Since I started teaching in 2008, I haven’t really had a true summer break. Various family matters have always seemed to take over right on cue. I actually finished the week before last, but last week my daughter had not yet started summer camp. So today I mark as the first real day of summer. Meaning hours each day - actual blocks of time - to rest, think, have coffee, read, and of course immerse in long-neglected creative efforts like publishing my Belarus book, making music, developing some web projects, etc.

So I watched Wings of Desire again the other day on DVD - as normal creative sustenance, to revisit the late Peter Falk’s role, and to see how it all holds up. Man, not only does it hold up, it’s perhaps gotten better since it was made in the 80s. Then I watched it again today, this time with the running commentary by Wim Wenders and Falk switched on.

My goodness I’m glad I did. In a gentle, almost languid way, they (mostly Wenders but Falk too) provide beautiful and often profound insight into so many new layers of the film. You will make connections you didn’t perceive before, more fully appreciate the truly amazing BW cinematography, and grasp what a miraculous and unique movie it really is:

That Wenders was working without a script or storyboards. That the circus was named for Henri Alekan, the film’s cinematographer (of Roman Holiday and La Belle et la Bête fame, among many others). That many of Peter Falk’s scenes - like sketching the old woman, and trying on all the different hats - were based on things Falk himself was doing anyway on set. How much of a historical document the film has become with all the recent changes in the Berlin cityscape. That Solveig Dommartin did all her own trapeze work, all without a net even during training, and once badly fell. That there was an alternative ending with Cassiel, the other angel, becoming human too.

And don’t reach for the remote during the closing credits, Wenders keeps talking and it’s fairly mind-blowing. As the credits roll, the first thing that appears is a dedication to ‘Yasujiro, François, and Andrej’. He explains it’s a reference to directors Ozu, Truffaut, and Tarkovsky, and how their work inspired him. It’s an exquisite moment. I recently discovered the complicated, spiritual genius of Tarkovsky (thanks Gabriela and Mark!) and could totally see what he meant.

I had to post all this right away, while my synapses are still smoking. Maybe this is all ho-hum or too precious for some people. Whatever, that’s their loss to dismiss moments such as these, when something you thought you knew suddenly takes on a whole new life and richness, and makes transcendent creative connections that are universal, of the highest order.

Ah, summer break. Nice way to start.

NYC for de Volkskrant

tumblr_lldemkxaeB1qz5g5zo2_1280.jpg
tumblr_lldemkxaeB1qz5g5zo6_1280.jpg
tumblr_lldemkxaeB1qz5g5zo7_1280.jpg
tumblr_lldemkxaeB1qz5g5zo8_1280.jpg
tumblr_lldemkxaeB1qz5g5zo9_1280.jpg

Before last weekend, I don’t think I had ever taken a single picture in New York City. Nothing of consequence for sure, but literally I may have taken less than five frames there, total, in my life, except for casual pictures of friends.

Strange I guess, but I always felt the same way as I feel about Paris - what in the hell am I going to shoot there that hasn’t been done a million times? In Paris I did sort of figure out a little hook for a short series a few years ago. In New York I’ve never even had the urge to try. Gun firmly in holster.  I can’t really explain it.

So when a Dutch newspaper asked me to do some photos for a little travel piece about changes in lower Manhattan, it was both exciting and a little daunting. I’d have one day (well, much less after the train to and from DC the same day). So in the end it was lunchtime to dusk.

Thank god it was good weather and I was with the reporter, a great guy who skillfully steered us to choice spots. On top of everything I wasn’t feeling too great, so that’s a bummer when you’re praying your energy won’t fail you.

I used the opportunity to take the leap and shoot it all with my little Ricohs. Not to be a gearhead, but I’m loving working with the GRD and GXR in tandem. Just a 28 and a 50, light and nimble, great quality, and you come off as non-serious, a curious goofball, which can be a good thing when working on the street.

It was a pretty good day in the end. Of course I was shooting what was needed for the job, but I gave myself total license to have fun and shoot how I wanted. I found it interesting what some of the pics ended up reflecting - the ongoing transformation of NYC into a properly groomed city. I remember the 80s when you’d arrive in New York and it just seemed hopeless, unredeemable. The seedy and the funky and the shitty and the bohemian and the thrilling are largely gone. What was worst and best about the place.

But from an urbanistic point of view, what has come along with the tourists and soulless kitsch of places like Times Square (which, come on, was always kitsch, formerly just with enough danger and scruff to make it interesting) are some world-class improvements. I was pretty impressed with the subtle vibe in places like Battery Park, DUMBO, around the WTC, the new pavilion around the Staten Island ferry terminal…

There is, dare I say it, an emerging urban grace amid the city’s muscular exoskeleton.

I Saw Ah-nold

tumblr_ljxgqh5CGo1qz5g5zo1_1280.jpg
tumblr_ljxgqh5CGo1qz5g5zo2_1280.jpg

Driving home this evening I spotted ol’ Arnold Schwarzenegger cruising west on the Pennsylvania Avenue cycletrack, right below the Capitol. Caught up to him on Constitution to make sure I had a clear shot from the car. I know, Citizen Paparazzi. Apparently the former governator had a meeting earlier in the day with Obama about immigration reform.

Scholastics Awards

Super excited, today I learned that seven (!) of my photo students won awards from the Alliance for Young Artists and Writers. Including one girl who was awarded for her great portfolio (most are for single images). The AYAW Scholastic Awards are very prestigious and have helped launch young artists for decades. Past winners have included Andy Warhol and Richard Avedon as teenagers.

Review

What are the film, music, and book experiences that you most connected with in the last year? Not that came out in 2010 necessarily, but that you saw/heard/read in the last year. Work that not only entertained but somehow elevated to essential creative nourishment/inspiration, maybe even infused into your own work somehow.

Ok, mine:

Film - The Road (in a tie with Secret of Kells)

The Road, from the book by Cormac McCarthy, is a literate, spare, somber, monochrome, post-apocalyptic thriller. The, um, cannibalism theme aside, the father-son dynamic is so powerful and profound, I don’t know how I got through this one at a time when my own father was gravely ill. Surprisingly, I didn’t find this film depressing at all, it’s actually strangely beautiful. But then again I have a strong stomach for quality melancholia.

Secret of Kells is simply a thing of beauty. The eye-candy of the animation would have been enough, but married to an intelligent, nuanced, non-sentimental sense of culture and myth it acquires layers that most films of any kind don’t have. People who criticize the supposedly thin storyline are missing the point. [It’s good for kids, but be careful - when the vikings finally arrive and get straight to business, there are some very scary moments. Though not much worse than Disney can be at times, or those flying monkeys in Wizard of Oz.]

I know, the two films couldn’t be more different on the surface. But thinking just now, I realize they are actually sort of the same. A boy and his father (or father-figure in Kells), trying to find hope and light in the face of primal threats.

~

Music - Jonsi concert at 930 Club

My friend and I agreed the Jonsi show was like hearing music that was perhaps 10 or 20 years ahead of the curve. I loved the unconstrained inventiveness of the individual musicians - especially the drummer, my god, but others in more subtle ways - the stage set and projections that conjured nature, dreams…

And of course Jonsi’s music, which even at its most ethereal seemed to break free of the lead weight that can sometimes bog down Sigur Ros’ material. It could spring to life with a surprisingly exuberant charm that really was, to use the dreaded term, uplifting.

~

Book - Moominland Midwinter

Yes, I know, my Moomins fixation again. My daughter isn’t quite ready for the original storybooks, but I sure was, especially as an antidote to Dora saturation.

The Moomin family are hibernating through the winter months, as Moomins do. But young Moomintroll wakes up somehow, and he can’t get back to sleep or rouse any of his family. So, all alone at first, he sets out to discover the mysteries of rural Nordic winter. Eventually he has a series of minor-key adventures with a set of interesting and often elusive creatures and characters taking winter refuge nearby. Finally spring comes and everyone wakes up, just as he’s getting the hang of the winter world.

Maybe doesn’t sound like much, but Finnish author and illustrator Tove Jansson is a quirky, unsentimental master of atmosphere, tone, and character. Yes, it’s for kids but it’s unafraid to be dark in interesting ways. There’s a kind of mystical art in here if you’re receptive to it. If you’re a parent who can’t stand the usual crap of modern kids’ books and TV for one more second, this book is pure tonic. A great adult read, especially in winter.

~

I’ve been working on a couple of projects that have definitely been watered by little elements of all of these. Though probably (hopefully) not in obvious ways. Stand by, they’re both unfinished but I hope to roll them out sometime soon!

Dot Dash Review

Nice little online review from Ear Candy Mag:

Dot Dash,“Dot Dash” (Edition 59 Records)

Promising debut from this band of seasoned DC players. There’s jangle pop here, but also a darker edge to the songwriting that will take the listener in different directions.

Lead singer Terry Banks (ex-Tree Fort Angst) has a subtle touch with lyrics that support the music interplay well. The rhythm section propels each tune along with precision, not surprising since bassist Hunter Bennett did time in post punkers Weatherhead, and drummer Danny Ingram was a road warrior with Swervedriver in the mid-90’s. This four piece is rounded out by Bill Crandall’s restrained leads, which recall Paul Weller at his peak.

You will be singing along to “That Was Now, This Is Then” by the end of this EP, and be left wanting more.

You can find the mini-CD on Edition 59’s MySpace page. You’ll have to scroll around a bit, look for number 063 in the list.