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Introductory
Random Thoughts, 4th of July, 2004 |
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a. From one of the VERY First Punk Photographers, 1976 - 1980.a.
"Hey
baby, it's the 4th of July . . ." 2004 and I'm lying on
the dance floor, with a nearly 300 pound former punk drummer
and smaller security guard rolling about on top of me. I'm thinking,
of all the punk clubs and shows in all the world, why is it
I'm in the middle of the action, or rather, under it, again?
Hey baby, it's the 4th of July . . .
ran through my head as I woke up and later heard at Alex's Bar in Long Beach, with my head glued firmly to their jukebox,
finally seeing Seattle's Briefs on Shawn and Mark Stern's label, BYO
Records. I shot the Stern brothers, who also share
my birth last name, when they were in the Extremes at Hong Kong Cafe and a special photo shoot
at the Pacific Design Center aka the Blue Whale in West Hollywood.
But another member, Chris, with whom I hung out with cos I didn't
even know the Stern brothers then, stole most of those shots,
but that's another story, but I digress (get used to it, that's
the way I tell stories, rarely linear). I kept missing the Briefs
the past two years, cos no money nor time to see them. I was
dancing stage left, audience right, getting off on them, and
now I'm flat on my back on the floor, unable to get up til these
two dudes get off me first. How did a nice jewish girl with
art degrees, a shy neurotic girl take some of the most iconic
punk rock photos and hang out with and see some of the greatest
early punk bands of all time?
Before I get into all that, let's
back up a few months.
Susan Dynner, the director/producer
of "Punk's
Not Dead," told me the Autry Museum
of Western Art was planning an evening of punk and
did I want to show my photos? I contacted the museum, begged
them to let me digitally project some of my shots taken from
1976 - 1980. I spent a frantic week preparing the presentation
on June 18. That night I was told the Avengers were playing Spaceland in Silver Lake the next night, June
19 (my mother's 84th birthday). I hitched a ride with my close
friend, musician and top punk archivist, David
Jones and his friend Sotiris.
I hung out with Alice
Bag and her husband, Greg, and Billy Bones of the Skulls and his wife, Christina. The Avengers' lead singer, Penelope Huston, was warm and
friendly, as was their guitarist and vocalist, Greg
Ingraham, whose daughter Danika performed
with them. Everyone looked great, as though it truly were still
1977. The Avengers put on a blazing show in spite of the stifling
heat generated by the packed room and Penelope's blistering
performance. Billy told me the Skulls were going great guns
and playing locally, with a European tour behind them and Japan
next. I wanted to go to the Warped Tour, but Billy encouraged
me to come down to Long Beach. He said Alex's Bar was really
cool, and it was exactly the kind of neighborhood bar every
punk would die for (true!).
The Skulls were great, with a sensational
guitarist, Kevin Preston. Billy introduced
me to the Briefs – what a treat! A friend turned me onto
"Hit after Hit" a few years ago, and now I was hanging
with the band. But I kept watching this great big dude, getting
more and more obnoxious as the afternoon turned into evening.
I was dancing on the audience's stage left, pushing people out
of my way until I got tired of it. I moved to the other side
of the stage where I had more room to myself to dance. I noticed
the big dude on stage and thought, the guards are gonna make
him leave the stage. Which the guy did by stage diving onto
me before I could move back far enough. I spent
much of the afternoon lying on sofas because I hurt my back
from years of living hard and fast, schlepping heavy camera
equipment, sitting hunched over a computer, bad nutrition, drugs
and just a rough life? But what a life!!
I toured with the Clash in England, June and July, 1980. I shot them during their first
West Coast tour in 1979 and subsequent shows in 1980. In June
of 1980, I got off the plane at Heathrow, got on a train to
Bristol, just showed up, got a photo pass, stood on the stage
(after tripping on wires, it was dark, and puncturing my leg,
but kept on shooting, blood dripping and all) and then hitched a ride with
them back to London. Ended up with one of their top road crew,
the third and last road Clash crew member I hooked up with. All I wanted to do was sleep, which I hadn't done since I left
Los Angeles earlier that long, long day which turned into night,
"the days change to night, change in an instant" (X's
"Los Angeles").
Ironically, after the Clash played
the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium (March 3, 1980), that same Clash crew member had thrown me out of backstage. People kept asking for free Polariods and I was so broke I
wasn't even eating. I dared ask for $1 and was thrown out. Which
just goes to show how one moment a tall black man threw me out
and the other moment he wanted to fuck me. I was fucked in either
case, but that's life and no complaints!
Took great Clash stage shots but too shy
to ever ask them for a group shot. August 2001, after Patti
Smith hugged me, told me she "dares other
photographers to take better photos than I." I
shot her November 11, 1976 in a San Diego hall that prohibited
cameras. I gave my camera bag to Patti's late brother Todd and
retrieved it once we got back in. I developed the film incorrectly,
ruining hundreds of shots. But I got two with Patti and guitar
glowing, transcendent and magical.
Iggy asked me where I'd
been when I showed him shots I took while sitting with Hellin
Killer and Mary Rat on two folding
chairs, no flash and a coupler that made for close-ups but cut
the light in half when he played the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium
in April, 1977. That hall also prohibited cameras, so I had
to sneak it in and lay low. Iggy told me I took better
shots than his photographer. I took the very first
photos of X (as a group during their debut
on September 17, 1977, but casually for months before) and the Germs in spring of 1977. Possibly first to
shoot the Weirdos (April 9, 1977), among the
first to shoot Screamers (spring 1977) and
first LA shots of the Ramones (August, 1976), Damned (April 1977) and so many more (refer
to my photo list).
I took the infamous NUDE shot of Captain
Sensible of the Damned. The one of Blondie's
Debbie Harry on the floor of the world-famous Whisky, showing
her white panties. The stuff that dreams are made of
turned into a nightmare for me. That shot garnered world-wide
press for Debby while I received no money for its publication
and was banned from ever shooting Blondie again. The infamous
nude shot of the Damned's bassist, Captain Sensible. Made into
a button in England, I never made one red cent from it. And
so it goes . . .
I didn't know how to put film in my camera
August 12, 1976, the second night de brudders from Queens played
LA's Roxy. I was entranced by Dee Dee Ramones' cheekbones. Before returning to see them again, I
grabbed the camera I was given as a college graduation gift
to shoot my art portfolio. I didn't know it over-exposed most
flash photos when the flash worked. I didn't know anything about
rock photography and even less about the music industry nor
rock magazines. I was beginning a potentially brilliant career
as an artist, with my work exhibited in art shows, galleries
and museums. But the last thing I wanted to do was sit on my
fat ass by myself making the same art over and over. I earned
my Master of Fine Arts Degree from Cal Arts so I could teach
college. I was an early participant in Judy Chicago's landmark "The Dinner Party." But Ii just couldn't submerge myself in someone else's visions. I had my own art to create. I left Judy for Patti. And who wanted to teach after spending my whole life
in school? How about living first?
I was the talkative yet shy fat girl who
sat on the sidelines and preferred Sondheim -- " Into the Woods" is amazing and
highly recommended! -- and Joni Mitchell to rock.
Or so it seemed. I saw the Beatles at Hollywood Bowl but was turned off by the screaming girls. I was in it for the
music, but music had lost its power, relevance and magic for
so many of us.
Glitter seemed so artificial, but the radio,
as progressive as it was in the 1970's, still stayed away from
glitter other than Elton John's flashiness and Bowie's androgyny.
Where were Iggy, the Dolls and the Velvets? But I couldn't sit still anymore.
Years of sitting in classes, dreaming of an art community, the
theatre, men, parties, music, life.
When would those dreams become reality?
That's what this website is about. Answering
those questions, how, why I got into punk, why I took so many
shots, where we came from, where we are now and where we are
going. With the photos and quotes from those of us who were
there. No poseurs on this site! Had to live
the life or I don't wanna hear about it. I don't want to retread
so many lies, distortions, and fantasized stories about what
happened.
I'm hooked into tons of real pioneer punks
and avid archivists who have access to the real stuff. Photos,
flyers, recordings, movies/videos, memorabilia, fanzines, manifestos
and our own words. Watch this site, contribute to it
and find out for yourself what you either lived through
if you were lucky or what you missed out but are reaping the
benefits now.
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