There’s a common thread that ties together each of Gusmano Cesaretti‘s photography collections. Each collection displays his uncanny ability to capture a specific place and time, in a way that feels almost mythical, and yet also deeply personal. While each series, taken as a whole, paints a sort of romanticized portrait of the place in question, the idiosyncratic details of each picture tell a story of their own. The pair of collections currently being shown at Los Angeles’ Roberts & Tilton gallery– the first documenting 1970s East L.A., and the second depicting the harsh realities of Panamanian street life– put some of the most powerful examples of that particular talent on display.
I’ll be honest, it’s been a while since I’ve copped clothes from a store. I had to let Urban go once I realized the thrift shop down the street had the same gear for half the price. Nonetheless, there is still room for the dope brick and mortar in the 2012. Enter New Jack City. Stumbling upon it one day while walking through San Fran, I was pleasantly surprised by the intimate shop. Dedicated to the world of vintage streetwear, New Jack City sports one of the best collections of vintage pieces I’ve ever come across. Vintage Ralph Lauren pieces hang next to Starter jackets and caps, that lay next vintage tees that’ll have you reminiscing about the 90s. In short, New Jack City is that spot to make that special cop that everyone will show you love for. Read on for brief Q&A with store founder Bryan Walsworth on his purpose and motives for creating the store.
Glenn Ligon is certainly not the first artist to use America as a conceptual framework through which to explore his own identity. But through some combination of Ligon’s unique experience in America, and the biting wit and keen insight he brings to that discussion, his contribution stands as something definitive and original in contemporary art. Most noticeably, Ligon’s art is about being black and about being gay in America. But far from transparent or obvious criticisms about race or sexuality, Ligon’s work is highly conceptual, offering personal meditations that match the complexity of the subject matter he’s approaching.
Sunday, January 22nd marks the last day of Ligon’s Americaat LACMA, a large-scale, mid-career retrospective commemorating the 61 year-old artist’s life and work so far, and all I can say is that I wish I had gone sooner. The exhibit is both rich in ideas, and diverse in style and form, showcasing Ligon’s evolution as an artist through a comprehensive survey of stylistic experiments. Neon signs reading “America” and “Negro Sunshine” welcome viewers. In another room, huge prints of images from the Million Man March tower above. Perhaps most common in Ligon’s work, however is the use of text, as messages about identity, repeated poetic mantras, and excerpts from a chorus of different voices of black American history– Zora Neale Hurston, Richard Pryor, or early ’90s Ice Cube– line the walls throughout.
Last year, the world lost a true revolutionary. It seemed that only in the years leading up to his death, had greater pop culture begun to realize the true impact and importance Gil Scott-Heron had had on its own landscape. Though hip-hop and jazz historicists, vinyl collectors and political minds had been singing his praises for decades, it seemed that the last few years of his life saw that well-deserved reverence reaching an unprecedented level. The release of his final album, I’m New Here, a collaborative effort with XL Recordings founder Richard Russell, and the posthumous Jamie xx remix project, We’re New Here served to further cement his place as a luminary of modern music and culture.
Today saw the release of The Last Holiday, an autobiographical memoir written in the last years of Gil’s life. The memoir tells the stories of some of the more formative moments of his extraordinary life and career, using one particular story as a sort of centerpiece through which others are told. “The Last Holiday” refers to Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday, and more specifically to Gil’s experience touring alongside Stevie Wonder as a part of 1980′s Hotter Than July Tour, during which he and Stevie helped to campaign for MLK Day’s status as an official holiday, all to the tune of Stevie’s “Happy Birthday”. In the excerpt below, Gil writes beautifully and poetically about childhood memories, about his experience with Stevie, and about the tragedy of fallen heroes. In the wake of his own death, his insight seems all the more poignant now.
When you’re doing your thing people always say, “Keep up the good work.” It’s like they see you going hard and they’re like, “Damn if they just keep doing this, they’re gonna get somewhere.” I mean look at Lebron. How many times do you think he’s heard the phrase, “Keep up the good work,” or better yet, “good game?” Yeah, he has no jewelry but can you deny how far he’s taken it already? He went from a high school phenom to a global icon in less than a decade, and with no signs of slowing down. We’re seven days into the 2012, so let’s not forget how far we’ve come, and just as importantly, let’s not forget how far we’re going.
“Friends can help each other. A true friend is someone who lets you have total freedom to be yourself – and especially to feel. Or, not feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at the moment is fine with them. That’s what real love amounts to – letting a person be who they really are.”
Greg Gossel work is focused yet extensive. Similar in aesthetic to the comic book imagery of Roy Lichtenstein, Gossel’s work is an ode to pop art iconography. Juxtaposing a variety of images that take on a new meaning when assembled together, it seems as though much of Gossel’s work celebrates the famous faces of popular culture. Splicing in iconic brand names alongside romantic comic book quotations, Gossel’s collage and silk screening work manages to exist in this timeless realm that blurs the time in which it was made, keeping his work pretty ripe and plenty fresh.
Standing alongside Yung Rizzle last night, faced with the question of what to watch, Russ’ recommendation of Man On Wire came to mind. Not to be confused with Denzel Washington’s 2004 action drama Man on Fire, Man on Wire tells the tale of Philippe Petit, a French high-rope artist whom in 1974 gained global notoriety for walking across the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center on a wire.
Having seen the towers in a magazine six years before, walking the across quickly became Petit’s dream and obsession. Studying nearly every facet of the towers, Petit built a team of supporters to help him infiltrate, scale and walk the towers. Considered by many as the “artistic crime of the century,” Man on Wire is the story of Petit’s extraordinary pursuit to the top of the World Trade Center. Considering the beautiful archival footage of Petit and insightful interviews throughout, it’d be a crime to not recommend the film to you.
As we all know, for the thousands of ideas that cross our mind in a day, only a few are seen through to the execution. Compiling the ideas that made it to inception but fell short of completion, the Library of Congress, the National Archives and other private firms have recently opened an exhibition detailing the buildings and monuments of Washington that never saw the light of day. Entitled “Unbuilt Washington,” the exhibition is currently open at the National Building Museum. From the proposed construction of the Lincoln pyramid (see above) to a dolphin-themed hotel, it’s really a trip to see what could’ve been in Washington. Don’t thank me, thank Amanda.
There’s something incredibly eerie about these images. In a lot of ways, a project like this blurs the lines between art and photojournalism as well. Stumbling upon an abandoned psychiatric hospital, artist David Maisel found himself fascinated by what he saw, finding a tragic beauty in the surroundings. Most intriguing to him though, were these aging copper canisters, which contained the ashes of thousands of former patients, left unclaimed after their deaths between 1883 and the 1970s, when the hospital closed its doors. Capturing shots not only of the canisters, but also of the hospital and various found objects, Library of Dust encapsulates a haunting piece of lost history powerfully:
The approximately 3,500 copper canisters have a handmade quality; they are at turns burnished or dull; corrosion blooms wildly from the leaden seams and across the surfaces of many of the cans. Numbers are stamped into each lid; the lowest number is 01, and the highest is 5,118. The vestiges of paper labels with the names of the dead, the etching of the copper, and the intensely hued colors of the blooming minerals combine to individuate the canisters. These deformations sometimes evoke the celestial – the northern lights, the moons of some alien planet, or constellations in the night sky. Sublimely beautiful, yet disquieting, the enigmatic photographs in Library of Dust are meditations on issues of matter and spirit.
It was a couple of weeks ago now when Ryan came into my room eager to show me a video he refused to preface. “Just watch it,” he said, “Just watch it.” It took about a year to load, but once it did, I was astonished by the subject matter. I don’t want to give away too much here, but it really goes to show how far one could take the art of documentation.
The year was 1976. With a soaring crime rate, the birth of hip-hop, and an emerging street art scene in New York, photographer Robert Herman found himself in the midst of a burgeoning cultural renaissance. Armed with his Nikon, Herman set out to capture the environment around him, the city becoming his boundless photo studio. With his first published photographic book, entitled The New Yorkers close to completion, I had the chance to chat with Robert about his experiences as a photographer, his techniques, and the lessons learned from capturing strangers on the street.
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So take me back to New York in 1976. What brought to New York initially?
I was living on Long Island as a kid and my parents owned movie theatres in the city so I was always going into town to work with my father in Brooklyn. I ended up in Manhattan because I decided to go to NYU film school. And while I was in film school I decided to take some still photography classes as an elective. And that’s how I got started.
Bill Russell is recognized by many as the greatest basketball player of all time. Of course Michael Jordan fans will rebuke, as will any others who view scoring as the number one measure of a player’s prowess, but no player dominated the game to the degree which Russell did, or made the impact that he did. Among a laundry list of accomplishments, Bill Russell won an unprecedented 11 championship rings in 13 seasons and was the first African-American coach of any major sport.
It was a by chance occurrence in 1975 that would chart photographer Hugh Holland’s course. Happening upon a group of skateboarders navigating the drainage pipes of Laurel Canyon Road in Los Angeles, Hugh knew instantly that he had found a compelling subject. Documenting the still infantile skateboard culture of Southern California for the next three years, Holland ventured everywhere from the San Fernando Valley to Venice Beach, and even Mexico; his purpose, to capture the essence of skateboard culture. The images within, part of Holland’s photography book Locals Only portray the carefree, whimsical nature of early California skate culture.
Is there anything better than hanging out with your friends? Probably not. Friends are just about the tightest thing in life, perhaps right behind family, although they oftentimes double as friends themselves. But like I said, we gotta utilize these weekdays and really get it in. These times won’t last forever. Amassing a colorful collection of famous faces, the pictures within capture celebrities of the past in some of their more candid moments. A settled reminder to take more pictures and enjoy yourself.
