SHOULD ONE TAKE A PHOTOGRAPH OF BRIAN WILSON?

(originally written in those bygone days of yesteryear before universal camera phones)

Above, my photograph of Brian Wilson (Beach Boys' musical mastermind) and Rodney Bingenheimer ("Mayor of the Sunset Strip" documentary subject and influential DJ) celebrating the birthday of Chris Carter (no, not the "X-Files" one, the one in Dramarama) with assorted Beatles' memorabilia at a private party I attended. That's a pretty name-droppy mouthful, eh? Actually, it was pretty rare of me to be invited to such rarified events.

I felt no qualms about asking to photograph the two at this event because I had observed Wilson to be in excellent humor, without minders, having a great time at a private party. I didn't shoot his playing piano because I felt that would be socially intrusive. I was rewarded with a photo of a pleasant-looking Wilson with a sincere half-smile here, visibly enjoying himself. It's just a snapshot, but a nice one of famous people having a good time.

(For those unaware of the depth of Wilson's story, the summarize Proust version: he is one of the true musical geniuses of all time, not for the pop music you all know, but for the elaborately complex creativity of his compositions within the pop world that you probably don't know. The dvd examining the making of "Smile" documented one of the most bizarre stories in all modern music, how a young musical genius in his 20's, Wilson, felt that the Beatles had raised the bar so high that he took on a private challenge to outdo their collective creativity, and produced some of the most stunning music of all time, then succumbed to pressures from his bandmates to retreat to crass commercialism, did too many 1960's distractions to escape the pressure, and went certifiably nutso for several decades. The road back is the true tale.)

But any road back from mental illness presents a rocky one, even with the best care of friends, family, medical and business associates. My next photo: is from one of the palpable downsides, wherein Wilson still was showing unexpected strength in trying to extricate himself from visible depression. His closest brother Carl Wilson had just died, leaving oldest brother Brian as the unexpected survivor of all the Wilson brothers' Beach Boys. His own band-mate Mike Love had just unexpectedly won an expensive lawsuit to retain half of all songwriting royalties to tunes wherein he "allegedly" had only contributed a line of lyrics or two.

Wilson didn't look well that evening, haggard and lost. This very performance depicted, billed as Nancy Sinatra and her Band plus The Wondermints at Spaceland, was in fact an unadvertised as such tryout for the Wondermints to be Wilson's new back-up band. He sang with them utterly unannounced (I had had my sources to be there. Thank you again, Harvey Kubernik, author/producer/insider.)

The Wondermints wrote songs like and played like they had been the studio guys on Wilson's pet Beach Boys Lp, "Pet Sounds," and Wilson knew it. It was a good match. Wilson was in fact concocting a plan to finish, record and tour with his lost "Smile" work, the one shelved in 1967 after its "Good Vibrations" was released, left to rot due to the aforementioned pressures. He had reunited with its lyricist Van Dyke Parks for completion of song fragments and was recruiting bandmembers like the Wondermints. The keyboardist in my photo, Darian Sahanaja, indeed proved crucial to the project.

But the events of late had worn Wilson down despite his own self-help efforts, and that evening he, as aforementioned, looked strained, fearful and sort of on cruise control to get through. I did not feel it my right to ask him to pose with Nancy Sinatra, although that would have been a surefire photo-op money shot: he looked too wrung through the wringer. Live shots like mine during a performance are no intrusion, but an in-your-face pose would have been. Maybe it's one the clues as to why I'm not particularly famous, that I could intuit Wilson's troubles that evening, and respected him too much to push further.

So I didn't take a photo of Brian Wilson with Nancy Sinatra that night. Would you have? Photojournalists often debate what is true reportage vs. what is exploitation. I happen to think that a pro's instincts make the result self-validating, as it is NOT the sensibility of a paparazzo jumping out of the bushes to shove a celeb and ignite a tabloid-worthy moment of rage.

There's a whole genre of police/crime photos by Weegee that became true fine art, despite their depiction of ad hoc, horrific, genuine tragedies. His photo of a mother whose son jumped to his death trying to escape a burning building haunts anyone who's ever seen it. Go to LINK* if you dare...

The artistry is that the photographer made you feel the most intense emotional pain that exists by means of a mere visual sensory dimension, and you are a better, more empathetic human being in the process. (The Public Eye is a little seen but terrific fictitious depiction of his life, starring Joe Pesci.) Similar pics to that in the music genre, such as Kurt Cobain cowering in personal pain backstage, and Janis Joplin alone and drunk, have a similar validity in helping us understand the private personae of public figures, particularly as with those mentioned who were incredibly self-destructive. Sometimes it's all we have to try to understand their tragedies and what had made them tick or not tick.

Which is why I left the question open-ended.


* http://fastfilm1.blogspot.com/2013/05/weegees-best.html

NOEL L at the KEY CLUB

Noel L recently performed with her band at Hollywood's Key Club, easily commanding her far largest audience. My initial story and photos on this new young songwriter here.

DENIZ TEK and the STOOGEDOG BADMEN

Confab of Last of the Badmen, Radio Birdman, The Dogs and The Stooges at my studio last Sunday. Left to right: Loren Molinare, Steve Godoy, Art Godoy, Danny Creadon, Jimmy Recca, Deniz Tek.
More information can be found clicking this LINK.

THIS SPRING'S FLOWERS

The Bauhinia Orchid Tree and Wisteria were here when we bought the place so both are over 98 years old, and represent Old School gardening (our house dates from 1912-- monstrously rare in Los Angeles.) The Wisteria was used for shade arbors a hundred years ago, when people had bigger properties they needed to shade (unlike postage stamps yards of today where opening an umbrella suffices.)

Bauhinia is a tree that flowers for 3 months of the year here, pretty cool, but supposedly looks like a stick for its first 12 years of life, which is why most don't plant it. The Wisteria is hard to manage because of its Malthusian growth: it grows like The Blob since it's a vine, kudzu-like. Wisteria has to have support, preferably titanium!
The poppies are, well, just poppies. Their flatness in my shot reminded me of Warhol's flower silkscreen prints. The juxtaposition of focal planes in these shots is courtesy of a LensBaby attachment, as usually digital presents maximum depth of field outdoors. I was playing around with same, as I want my new cameras to behave just as my old ones did.

MY BETTER HALF

Here's a current photo (April 2010) of Mr. Twister (Mr. Fastfilm) for the curious. He is posed in front of a vehicle similar to the one in which he motored throughout England in the early '70s while fronting a band (Pointed Stick) and affronting audiences

SATURDAY NIGHT POGO

Thirty one years ago, I took the cover photos and designed the graphics for "Saturday Night Pogo," the third ever release from then spankin' new Rhino Records, as I had for their second release "Twisting with The Low Numbers," wherein I placed the band (yes, twisting) in front of the most desperately garish oil-sheik mansion ever in Beverly Hills, replete with human statuary with the pubes brightly painted. (I had nothing to do with Rhino's first release by Wild Man Fischer, although I did finagle this artist to pay me for listening to his single while he was giving them away promotionally. The Wild Man was also a Confused Man.) For you young'uns, pogoing was the official oldschool mosh dancing to punk rock music: try and guess what it looked like!

This cover sports famous gonzoid literati writer Richard Meltzer effecting his best Travolta, amidst the concept spoofing "Saturday Night Fever" via the then reigning Disco fad, mortal enemies of us punkers. The would-be Bee Gees would be the guitarist from Chainsaw (I was hyping my future better half's own punk band, also included in the compilation,) an unknown punk who later wracked up a jail sentence I'm told, and the actual CEO of Rhino, who wanted to be somewhere on the cover. I said fine if he put a stocking over his head. This was one of the first domestic compilations of punk rock back in the day.

Which segues into the inevitable whatever happened to's of its punk musicians in the intervening decades. The Winos and The Low Numbers were a band put together by the other founder of Rhino Records. Both are mega-wealthy now with their multi-media empire, sold to Warner Bros. Both bands sported record company executives, from Columbia and Warners, band-slumming. The Dils were known for punk anthems and became Rank and File which included Alejandro Escovedo in addition to its Kinman brothers. The Berlin Brats resembled the NY Dolls, with the somewhat known Rick Wilder. Vom featured cover boy Richard Meltzer with their track produced by the future deputy Mayor of the city of Los Angeles. The Motels eventually recorded ballad-y new wave actual Billboard hits via its stellar attraction, velvet and smoke-voiced Martha Davis, who still performs to this day and sounds no different, a good thing. Backstage Pass included Spock, a local scenester, and Che Zuro, later of The Orchids and still a performer.

My personal favorites, placed prominently on the back cover layout, were Chainsaw and The Dogs. My better half's last band Chainsaw, theatrical punks before their time, released a single that is prized by collectors today, broke up in a fistfight, and reunited 28 years later for a successful European tour to mark the re-release of all their material abroad and eventually domestically. I didn't know The Dogs at the time, but their distinctive power trio nouveau MC5 hardest rock had impressed me mightily, particularly in those days of radio mellowmush. I later became fast friends with Dog bassist Mary, later in Kanary, a band I've also lionized to mix my animal metaphors utterly.

the Chainsaw single

NOSTALGIE DE LA BOUE

Nostalgie de la boue is a French term for memories of mud, i.e., the gutter, the decadent old times. This seemed like a perfect title for some of my photos of vintage Sunset Strip, Hollywood Calif. backstage nightlife from the golden days of Hair Metal in the late 1980's, plus one pic of an actual Sunset Strip protest against pay to play. Recogizable faces here and there would be Billy Idol, Julian Lennon, Mara Fox of Precious Metal, along with many others who may not like to be remembered for activities performed in the bathrooms and dressing rooms as depicted.
I really was looking for non-incriminating photos to post here, or ones that hadn't been widely published. A reader here commented that black and white innately looks more decadent. Helmut Newton certainly knew this! Do you know that they don't even manufacture the black and white photo papers or films that I used to make these anymore? These are truly artifacts of a bygone era, in all manner of meanings. Billy Idol is shown talking to Julian Lennon, sire- John Lennon, dam- Cynthia, along with a member of Milli Vanilli (with the biggest hair.) Billy gave me trouble that evening for my photography, even though I was a photojournalist invited by "his people" to cover the opening of his girlfriend's Club Rubber.

Mara (the protester) is still doing well in the music business, promoting publishing for alt bands. I can thank her for the access to the Sandy West memorial show where I photoed The Bangles.

I didn't really do much "celeb" photography like the backstage parties: I was invited to the ones here, hence my being allowed to photograph. A technical hint: to take a photo like the one of Idol and Lennon, you have to be the first one to spot them, then shoot, and you'll only get the one shot. The second you do, others will close ranks around them and there's no more clear area around them to photograph. I felt a little bad doing this to Lennon: he looks startled, as would be anyone whose father was ambushed and murdered.

STOOGEWEAR

A
lucky
attendee of the May 2010 Hammersmith Apollo gigs in London by Iggy and The Stooges brought me back a commemorative t-shirt sporting Stooge staff photographer Robert Matheu's classic 1973 pic allied with brand new graphics by "Obama-Hope" artist Shepard Fairey. On the back it proclaims Hammersmith Sold Out. Thank you Natalie! The one on the right is my original Glam era Wild Thing shirt by the very same designer of the notorious Leopard jacket, one of five made, adorning the 1972 Raw Power LP cover as worn by Iggy Pop (story, provenance and present day whereabouts here and here .) Yes, I can still get into it (barely, abetted with strategic vest) but people remain credulous as hell that it truly is original, since this lively design spawned a cottage industry of retro knock-offs throughout the intervening decades, and I've always cut all tags off my clothing since time immemorial as they challenge my overly sensitive skin (to me, the fairy tale of the princess and the pea had no fantasy element to it whatsoever. With a pea sticking out several mattresses below, this woman had a genuine problem on her hands.)

LOUIE LOUIE SONGWRITER

Why is this man laughing? He wrote rock's favorite party standard "Louie Louie"! Seen left to right at a spoken word performance at the Ash Grove back in the day were writer Wanda Colman, (the now late) Richard Berry and poet Michelle T. Clinton.

Why is this photo different than most backstage shots? Firstly,no flash was used, just overhead available light and the same pushed film used in the earlier performance, unlike most backstage snapshots. Secondly, I'd worked with and even been to the homes of both Ms. Coleman and Ms. Clinton heretofore on graphic projects and photo sessions for Harvey Kubernik's spoken word labels, hence I was as at ease as these professional performers were. And Mr. Berry? Besides posing here with the pretty ladies,
he recently had recovered royalties to his copyrighted classic thanks to an artists' legal foundation's help. No wonder the grin!

JEFF BECK, STEVIE RAY VAUGHN together live

photo (C) 1990 Heather Harris. Jeff Beck and Stevie Ray Vaughn jamming together at the Los Angeles Sports Arena. It was an odd gig for the minders to restrict photography: both artists were headliners who alternated top billing throughout the tour. We photographers were restricted to the usual first two songs only nonsense for each artist, but told we could stick around and photograph for the last two songs, which I figured would be the fun collaboration as depicted above. Surprisingly, few photo press stayed: perhaps they been so browbeaten into missing the best parts of all sets that they had just trundled out reflexively.