Tuesday, June 6, 2023


The world's greatest (most creative, most adept, most influential) hardest rock guitar player Jeff Beck passed away from bacterial meningitis on Jan 11, 2023. This is the first of a series of obituaries of select persons who meant something in my life, all delayed due to care needed for my better half's extremely serious illness treatments (not Covid.)

Always in the zone as here, giving it his all while thinking up entirely new guitar adventures no one before could have even imagined. In 1968 I wore out three vinyl LP records listening to his first solo venture "Truth" which debuted his ridiculously influential band The Jeff Beck Group with Rod Stewart, Ronnie Wood, Nicky Hopkins and Micky Waller. Fortunate indeed to see this force of nature in action, I nonetheless don't have photos of that 1968 show, so offered are my pics of Stewart and Wood in Faces, Hollywood Palladium, 1972. And another of mine from the 1990 "dual headliner" (they alternated) show with Stevie Ray Vaughn.

Below, fair use photo not credited to anyone but The Nicky Hopkins Archives, which, despite lack of visages, shows exuberant hardest rock chaos of the original Jeff Beck Group in 1968. (those are Benday printer dots, not pixels, so pic works best small.


Since both Stevie Ray Vaughn and Jeff Beck are no longer with us, that leaves the indomitable James Williamson as the world's greatest (most creative, most adept, most influential) living hardest rock guitar player now. He is far more influential than other remaining greats: just ask anyone who has played any genre of hardest rock since 1973's Raw Power, Williamson's masterwork with Iggy Pop and the rest of the Stooges. THAT release is the touchstone of them all.

Friday, May 19, 2023



Front page of today's Wall Street Journal (5.19.23): photographer extraordinaire Lynn Goldsmith just won her 7 year battle against copyright infringement by the Andy Warhol estate by appealing all the way to the Supreme Court of these United States. 

All working artists know you can't dragoon someone else's work into your new money-making venture. That's theft. License it already! "Fair use" was designed to protect press, reviews, and determine orphan works. And yet all who don't "get" art pulled out the stops to fight her. A Supreme Court Justice even got distracted thinking this was about the art history legacy of Warhol, not image expropriation. It's hard enough to make a living in the visual arts at any level, just license us in all ventures that include our art! Well done Lynn Goldsmith.

Tuesday, May 16, 2023



Don't Worry Darling and Last Night in Soho have been the most intriguing and indisputably visually arresting psychological thrillers of the last several years. Oddly, they're about the same thing, just in different eras. The former concerns the ring-a-ding Rat Pack glamour of the 1950s, the latter Swinging 1960s London (I lived through both-- they get the details right.) Both explore consequences of the deliberate diminishment of women in these otherwise dazzling eras, with extreme, gory vengeance resultant in their respective plot twists. '50s and '60s cognescienti are going to love the music: great, non-formulae choices in both. Having just the right music was as important to director Edgar Wright as it is to, say, director Martin Scorcese. And both Soho and Darling sidestep any obvious choices. 
For those who've followed pop culture fashions/music/sociology of the last half of the prior century, you'll enjoy the correct details and continuity choices as well. Soho's director Edgar Wright specializes in making sure all music placed in his films is important and contributing to the overall zeitgeist without ever being pretentious about it or calling attention to itself (Example: he directed Baby Driver with the best music accompanied car chases ever.) And director Olivia Wilde let her imagination roam quite free once she got a hold of this script that is a VERY unusual take on a previously well known horror theme. 

Screen captures from Don't Worry Darling's cool retro auto scenes, with a Corvette in the 2nd pic carrying the protagonist Florence Pugh, and the top pic crowd scene containing a Nash Metropolitan, '54 Ford, '57 Chevy Nomad among others. Their stunt doubles come a sorry end in the big chase scene (last 2 pix.) My better half adored all the cars! Younger viewers will adore co-star Harry Styles for his deft handling of a real love/hate acting role.
Best of all, the three young female leads, AnyaTaylor-Joy and Thomasin McKenzie in Soho, Florence Pugh in Darling, are astonishing strong. They seem like A list from the get go. Their assured performances caught me by surprise. Pugh has been garnering "next big thing" plaudits lately, but don't be put off by this spin: she nailed this one. You never don't care about her character for even one second. And both films are, hahaha, feminist despite all that violence.

Screen captures from Last Night in Soho, Anya Taylor-Joy in first encounter with Matt Smith, all joyful dancing and running through the night streets of mid-1960s Soho; Thomasin McKenzie and (from the actual '60s) Terence Stamp in present day Soho; Eloise channels Audrey Hepburn; the two time travelers merge.
Trivia: this was the very first production to feature the interiors as well as the exterior of the famous Richard Neutra Palm Springs Kaufmann mansion (the same client who commissioned Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater!!) and for long, extended scenes in and out, not just establishing shots. I presume the huge collection of wonderful mid-century architecture in Darling is a millennial's wet dream. And don't worry: Soho features boomers' wet dreams of 1960s London, ground zero of coolness in all things pop cultural and otherwise, particularly in its amazingly filmed initial introduction to time travel.
Above, fair use photo from the sales site from 3 years ago for Neutra's classic Palm Springs residence. To see all pix, click LINK (or https://digs.net/richard-neutras-kaufmann-house-in-palm-springs/)

Don't Worry Darling and Last Night in Soho should eventually be deemed classics. Both came out in our oddball, constricted covid era, yet still are sensational. There just hasn't been a lot of the promotional hoo-ha that usually accompanies such great films. If you enjoy one you should enjoy the other: I sure did! 

Wednesday, April 26, 2023


Mr. Twister posing rakishly and yours truly at the Queen's English British Motorcar and Motorbike show in Woodley Park, San Fernando Valley, L.A., Calif on a commendably beautiful day, 4.23.23 with his own entry in the show, his 2009 convertible Bentley Azure. This is where the copy from the previous post was intended to appear. If you can't quite make it out on his poster that I fashioned for him for the show, it reads: 

"Last fall I got some great news about my Stage 4 cancer - and this is an early bucket list result!

Nice enough to look good, but enough nicks and scratches that I don't worry (too much) about driving it. Only 450bhp, but 645 ft. lb. torque. Redline is a blistering 4500 rpm." 

(Ed. if only this great news had held up. It was not to be. At least we had this lovely weather, perfect day occasion of his Bentley starring in our local British car show described above.)

Thursday, April 20, 2023


(The whole family minus my horse Janeway depicted herein: my better half Mr. Twister, Gia the Scottish Deerhound, Livia the Borzoi, Bella the Golden Retriever, and yours truly, in our back yard of our 1912 farmhouse in a deceptively slummy part of the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles.) Here is what Mr. Twister wrote about his recent purchase of a stunningly elegant 2009 convertible Bentley motorcar:

        "Last fall I got some great news about my Stage 4 cancer - and this is an early bucket list result! 

Nice enough to look good, but enough nicks and scratches that I don't worry "(too much) about driving it. Only 450bhp, but 645 ft. torque. Redline is a blistering 4500 rpm."

-Kurt Ingham, April, 2023


Thursday, January 19, 2023

Rest in peace DAVID CROSBY

I took this at the Greek Theatre, Hollywood, in 1969, their second ever gig (after Woodstock.) Neil Young was just sitting in, they were still CSN. My six degrees of separation were that someone I knew was friends with Crosby and his soon to be tragically killed girlfriend, Christine Hinton, and we once went to visit them in their Beverly Glen canyon home. Crosby was out, and I thought Christine one of the worldliest young women I ever had met, what with her sultry voice and longer than waist length hair. Crosby loved her so much that her death seemed to have messed up the entire rest of his life. Somehow, despite much physical wreckage, he managed to keep his wonderful singing voice right up to the end. Rest in peace, David Crosby.

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