A Memory Of the Future

     In 1990, my aunt took me on a trip to New York City to encourage my dreams of becoming an artist. For years , my main memory from the trip was when my aunt was unable to get us tickets for a Broadway show and was forced to pick something from off-Broadway instead.  Not having heard of any of them beforehand, she picked one called "Those Were the Days" ,  thinking of the catchy Mary Hopkin song of the same name from when she was a little girl.  Arriving at the theater that night she read from the marquee that it was "voted the best musical off-Broadway" and was confident in having trusted her instincts until I pointed out it actually read "voted the best Yiddish musical off-Broadway".  Over the next two hours , we watched the primarily Jewish audience completely lose their shit at a performance that we could hardly begin to follow. Trusting we had not only seen the best Yiddish musical off- Broadway , but possibly ever , we stopped while we were ahead.

     My aunt has undoubtedly never forgotten that play but generally notes my obsession with taking pictures of porn theaters , sex shops and strip joints to be what has provided the most lasting impression. Looking back, I was in that Robert Mapplethorpe phase that likely no other teenage boy ever has gone through. Like many boys trying to emulate their heroes , I ultimately became my version of who I thought he was. I may not have shared his talent or technique, but I had a camera,  a leather jacket , wavy dark hair and a penchant for eroticism like he did , which was more then enough for a newly-turned eighteen year old boy to have. I certainly did not need his bullwhip for it was enough I already possessed his horns.

     I  remember being surprised by how much film I had shot on that visit .  Maybe even a bit aggravated by it since it caused me to have less film for a more provocative shoot I had lined up for when I came back .  Since the negatives were of places I thought maybe I would combine them with negatives  I had shot of people to make composite photographs. This was , however, a slightly ambitious project for a teenager who lacked any sort of real ambition , so , the negatives were processed but then remained undeveloped for the next twenty-three years . I expected that I would be rolling my eyes and sighing  when I went through them but instead I was able to quickly identify my motivation for every click of the shutter.

    The dumpster with Jessie Helms picture on it taken in response to the Mapplethorpe/ Serrano news of the time.

 
     The infamous off Broadway play "Oh! Calcutta!" often referred to in 70's sitcoms like "Maude" and "Soap". So intrigued by the idea of a live nude show I nearly missed the word "gaiety" off to the right!

      I think I found this particular porn theater interesting because of the Sid and Marty Krofft quality it had - not only  for the overblown peep hole and coins floating above it , but for the underlying plot of being led into a strange new world that is hard to escape.

      I was so obsessed with this ad for Kikit  that I took pictures of it every time we passed it. After I got home to find it in appearing in print I ripped it out of every  magazine I came across. 

      Who wouldn't want some gay's papaya?  At  the very least , you may want to have a taste of their sixty- cent frankfurter.

 
     Radio City Music Hall at Christmastime, or as I  was likely to have called  it..... "RADIO 1990". I just don't pass up chances to bring up Lisa Robinson and Kathryn Kinley.

     The windows at  Betsey Johnson's . I imagine without a model along, mannequins were my substitutes.

    Some perv.

    The Rainbow Room in glorious Black and White.

   

     My aforementioned obsession with pornography. I cannot help but look at these and see equal amounts of seediness and high-glamor!

    I think I liked the idea of a classic scene with a foreground comprised of the filthiest water I have ever seen!

     This I love for the fact the water is the only thing in focus!

      A crazy person preaching some hate . Timeless. 

    Possibly taken for just the little "Tron"-like lights , I actually shot this twice, once before dark and once after ( and obviously the after shot was taken on top of a frame of unadvanced film) . Most notably, the angles are almost identical, despite being taken at different times.
  
    It is one of those things I can never quite explain , that little voice that tells me that it's the right moment to snap a picture. When I look through old pictures I wonder why I was always trying to quickly identify the best picture in the group instead of embracing the fact that every picture that was shot has it's own merit  . My undeveloped negatives can sometimes read like the diary of an undeveloped adolescent. Obviously with growth there is plenty of embarrassment, but sometimes they document the maturity too. These photos have traces of my style, my interest and my sense of humor.    I realize more and more that back then I wasn't really being so much the copy of Mapplethorpe I wanted to be,  as much as the version of myself I didn't quite understand yet . While I eventually stopped wearing the leather, I simply learned how to conceal my horns in my wavy dark hair . As for the little voice, I can still hear it .