bloc

bloc study: Richard Avedon

2010-05-01T11:15:00.000-07:00

Never have I been more inspired than when looking at a portrait by Richard Avedon. What he created challenges every nuance I have about contemporary society. There's a politik in every deviation of his work, fashion, art, war, humanity. I feel as though every capture has the power to illuminate the connectedness of all these things and it is governed explicitly by the power of emotion.

I have a project coming up in which I will be working to learn from his technique. I'm going to be taking portraits of my coworkers. 40 some peeps. They're the most diverse group of people I have ever had the pleasure of working with and I want to capture something more about them than I am able to see and experience from just doing the daily grind.

I will begin shooting this month and complete shooting by June. At which point I will display my work.

Here is a glimpse at the man and his work... revealing what the surface shows. Truly remarkable.

Darkness & Light

Reworking the bloc: Metropolis Photoshoot

2010-04-21T17:11:00.000-07:00

So I'm working on re-envisioning this photoshoot, possibly converting it into a comic book, which was the original plan. However, after losing inspiration on the project, it fell to the wayside. Over the past few months however, I have gotten back on the horse and reworked the images with new techniques and have come up with some results that I prefer to my original run.

What might not seem like much at first comes across astoundingly clear when the two sets are placed side by side.

The comic is not complete, but it is a BIG step in the right direction.

This is where I'm at now:

This is where I was:

Letter to M.L.K.

2010-01-18T10:04:00.000-08:00



So much was lost to the monochrome
                             of that 1960’s console set—

where red and green held the same tonal quality,
and your face, if not before
                          white poplin or sun-bleached granite,
would have been lost to the sea of shadows.

I wish, Martin, your dream had been in color,
so that it could have inspired
                           us, who find pride in rainbows.

Rainbows. Those parades we’ve gotten lost in,
caught up in the clamor of glamour, straight out
                                                of Rio,
where Mirandized Marys, those teetering towers of fruit
and avant-garde Flamingos of the Peacock Revolution
sashay down ashen streets,
                  feathers flayed in posterior erections.

But what is there to celebrate?
What battles have we won?

Where is our Greensboro sit-in, our Alabama Boycotts?
our Plessy vs. Ferguson, our Brown vs. Board?
           our Selma to Montgomery,
                     our March on Washington?


I’d have settled for Technicolor, Martin,
that illusive dye-imbibation
like the ochre prism in Riley’s painting,
                                    Shadow Play,
which discerns the differences
                          in muted tones,
whose focused final stroke
might have shown us the craft of polish

and not these waxed-tangerine pecs,
glittered-orchid eyelids,
                     nor the pink lace
thong, breaching the crest of blue Daisy Dukes—

but the dignity of your sharp-pressed suit,
resplendent as armor. There is a new blindness, Martin,
brought on by bright colors and incandescence:

we’ve lost sight of black and white
                          and the meaning of gray.

Gray, the muddled middle tone, by daylight’s
undark, which shadows in cloaks and veils
the shared crimson of our blood,
blood which can be infected
with bigotry and vehemence,
as easily as the hatred of AIDS.


How is it you projected from the grayscale,
                                         colorwashing
the world? How did it read

Muddy Waters and du Bois?
laud Harlem Streets and Clementine Hunter?
or sing Strange Fruit and Nina Simone?

You made color when you had none.
So how do we extrapolate black from white?

Perhaps we need five centuries
of bashings and murders,
suicides and shame,
till the blood and guilt
run deep as the Muddy Waters of your Mississippi.

I’d like to think otherwise,
but can’t see what you could.


I have a dream, dear Martin,
that one day we can
                drop the prism from our eyes,
       let it shatter on our gray streets,
to confetti every color you created,
to finally see, in white
                      light and black shadow:
          we are
free.

Behind the bloc: Bokeh Self-Portrait Series

2009-11-22T01:06:00.000-08:00

The light blur of Bokeh is brilliant. It's like crystalized raindrops of light captured in intangible distant orbs. I thought I'd give this technique a go and see if I could create the illusion of swimming in light.

Behind the bloc: Self-Portrait Series

2009-11-17T14:26:00.001-08:00

I spent my first night in L.A. on Sunday. It was major.

Should I go into details, probably not, but the after effects can be seen in my self-portraits.

Carry on (Thanks Tim Gunn).

Back to the bloc: Christina Navarro

2009-11-05T22:00:00.000-08:00

After some time away from the originals, I went back through Christina's film and found some photos that I knew I liked just didn't know how to tackle them... well, they've been revisited and here are the results. The three photos have her in a locutionliberte original. Dress sewn by hand from one bolt of fabric.

New to the bloc: Christina Navarro

2009-10-15T00:01:00.000-07:00

So this is a first... posting one of these with the model right beside me, but who gives a whoot? We're having fun right. Christina and I had a rather jam packed day, not starting when we wanted on account of many things, late-arrivals, dastardly weather and finicky hair. Even still, we were able to get some rather stellar shots... and I can't wait to expand on the collection.

Today's looks are an extension of this season's wardrobe, looking at scarves once again... only now they've reached an all new level of MAJOR... they've been wrapped into dresses. That's right DRESSES!

In any case, it's not always about scarves... it's about shoes and coats and dresses too... which we'll be shooting tomorrow. I've never seen such amazing shoes in all my life... when we get up at six am to get ready for daylight we'll take on two more outfits tomorrow, delving into coats and neckwear... should be seeing some skin too... so, WATCH OUT!

Back to the bloc: Jessie Cubberly

2009-10-07T23:54:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was cur-razy! So much to do... so little time... so little hours of daylight in fall/winter!

So the Avedon shot that I wanted so badly never came into fruition on account of the poor lighting conditions of a setting sun... not too conducive to action frames... even so,
Jessie was a trooper, jumping into traffic aimlessly... and with an umbrella on a cloudless day. She looked mighty clever.

That said, it was a good warm-up for an entirely surprising and delightful setting which came about from that same setting sun and a hidden wall of comic posters.

Cast in graphic shadows from steel bars that barricaded an otherwise floor to ceiling opening in this stairwell's outlook, the most opportune setting came out of nowhere... and the lighting was PERFECT! Granted there were about 3 minutes of this time that were perfect... as the sun seems to set so fast. This made for a mad crazed photo taking frenzy, and as usual, I liked it. I just wished I could have squeezed more light out of that blasted sun.

What's more, Jessie was wearing a simple striped blouse and killer wool trench, which when against the wall (and in the light) made her look like the ultimate femme fatale. Like I said... super pleased with the results. Who can fault a good surprise?

In a nutshell, the homage to Avedon is still on my mind. Hopefully L.A. will bring me models and scenery alike to complete my vision... I've got my fingers crossed.

New to the bloc: Jessie Cubberly

2009-10-04T15:30:00.000-07:00

Went to the Olympic Sculpture Park here in Seattle for a photoshoot yesterday, and took what I believe to be some of my best photographic and styled work. With works by OMA, Richard Serra, Beverley Pepper and Roxy Paine serving as backdrops/props, who wouldn't be inspired?

The lovely Jessie Cubberly was my companion for the day and she was a real trooper, getting up at 5 in the ACD (Ass Crack of Dawn). After a serious caffiene fix, we were on our way, shooting all morning long amongst some rather inspiring work.

The focus of the shoot was really about turning installed art into extensions of fashion... and also highlighting an important aspect of the fall season... which is skin exposure. There's something profoundly sensual, vulnerable and inherently sexy in exposed skin... further enhanced by harsh conditions and in small quantities.

Some pointers, wear dark richly colored sheers this season, leggings with distinct patterns, inject your wardrobe with petite florals, experiment with tight lowers and billowing uppers and don't forget a nice drape. Basically you want to sculpt your body. Articles with definitive lines do this best. ARCHITECTURE... a shell for the body... an extension of soul.

After 5 wardrobe changes and scene locations that reflected the aforementioned styling tips we had ourselves a delightful break from the work and ventured to Pike Place for some New England Clam Chowder on what turned out to be a brilliant brisk day. The chowder... perhaps the best cup I've ever had. DELISH.

Jessie and I will be hitting the streets again tomorrow to wrap up shooting. Look for an homage to Avedon and what I hope will strike as a venture to Italy.

Ciao bello!

New to the bloc: Kim Gallegos

2009-09-21T21:42:00.000-07:00

So... I think this season will be all about leggings and scarves.... and the many ways to wear them. They allow for layering... one of the most important features of the fall wardrobe... so here you go: my latest photo series. Special thanks to model Kimberly Gallegos.

Mexico: Excerpts from my Journal, We Arrive! August 21st, 2009

2009-09-21T20:15:00.000-07:00

So we made it to La Gloria, home of Esperanza!

This place is an oasis from the chaos of Tijuana. I would even go so far as to say it is a sanctuary.

The walk across the border was surreal... like a Tex Mex journey to Mecca, complete with AK47's and policia. I've never seen the great St. Louis arch... and who knew I'd find it at the precipice of the Tijuana border. There it stood towering over a city more dense and more enormous than I could have conjured.

Even more, the smells of Tijuana are perhaps more diverse than it's skyline. I'll be the first to admit my sense of smell is less than par, but upon stepping off the trolley, my nostrils were bombarded with dust and smog and the stench that follows populace. The air was thick to the viscosity of taste and was alive and made me alive.

Martina is a godsend by the way! She's so fluent in the way she speaks. She spoke so clearly to the point, and had common sense enough to know which cabs would rip you off and which would provide a reasonable fare.

Note to fellow travelers: Skip the line straight out of the gate, walk up to the taxis with the signs and lights and covered waiting station... and have Martina there to talk a decent bargain.

She got us a ride from the border to La Gloria for diez dolares!... yeah, I'm going to be spouting trivial Spanish for the remainder of my writing... be prepared.

Swell work! Which brings me to our cabby... this guy, NUTS! Not only was he capable of talking a mile a minute, he could drive it at the same time.

We blurred through every red light as he grimaced at each stopped car with a knowing "What are you doing?"

Loud drunk girls in high heels and higher skirts spilled onto the streets in laughing waves and tantrums as we flitted through downtown. If it weren't for the fact that every road seemed to be under construction, I might have assumed one of these girls had been a pothole.

And then we were on the freeway, which dwindled into side streets and a brawl in the front yard of some casa caught my attention... but only for the moment we whirred by. And then we were in the same scene, just further down the road and a stray white horse grazed on dusty brush and soon it seemed the mongrels of the city, these bizarre mottled mutts, half coyote, half herd dog, and every bit chihuahua were looming, from the shadows of lean-tos and gas stations.

And the smell of sewage and mange and fetid things infiltrated the air. Behind a horn started honking almost at the frequency of a screaming siren and for a second I feared we'd reached such tumultuousness that some unforetold disaster would strike.

This passed upon the turning of a corner, when the dense air was cut through by a sweet scent of a desert flower upon the evening. And we stopped and were here. We'd reached Esperanza.

I felt hope, I finally made it to Mexico I finally confronted the beast.

Mexico: Excerpts from my Journal, The Intro

2009-09-21T20:06:00.000-07:00

So I should probably write all of this down s I don't forget it all. The conversation I had last night with my good friend Cory, aka Cornelius Sealey was perhaps one of the better ones I've recently had. In the course of our discussion, he said some things that really prepared me for this trip.

1. You're creating an address!! That is huge!

2. This is going to be a place where kids grow up, a place of fights, maybe even a place of coming out. It will be a home with all its ups and downs... and it will be there, to live through each of these moments.

3. Dont' forget to leave your mark. Write your name where a kid can find it... and wonder and dream of what can be found, dream of more than what is there.

This last bit I read into... and developed a sort of a personal mantra. Build a dream to dream a story and remember that story and live to tell it so that the dream you built is the life you live. It is something I chose to remember when I'm down... when I need the motivation to carry on.