Tag Archives: Ted and Debbie
I’ve been working with New Visions in Los Angeles and Blok Design with a rebranding project. I spent a few days with the kids trying to capture a feel of the programs, show a passion for learning and honoring not just the student but the individual. The hardest part about shooting lifestyle photography is gaining the trust of your subjects especially when they are not models. Directing kids who you just met and who might be a little suspicious of you instinctively and telling them to “just act naturally” doesn’t always work. You need to become invisible. Here’s some shots from the shoot with a few kids visiting their old middle school in Lennox, a leadership workshop at New Roads and a group of girls going to the opera for the 1st time.
A big thanks to Jeri Heiden at Smog Design for helping me make the cover of the new book “It’s a Boy!” not look like the White Album. Inspired by my Bosch tool box, it features pictures I took when I was 8 years old, photos and trinkets from a family album my mom gave to me a few years ago, and some new work too. Debbie is showing it around NYC next week so if you want to see it she would be happy to show it to you.
Been struggling with what life gives us and just haven’t been here. Priorities I guess you would call it. A bit of a feeling of being too spent in many ways. Debbie wanted me to make a book of new work to show in NYC at the end of April. I sat down and just couldn’t make a book of new work. That’s what websites are for.
I did a post a while back about a couple of photo albums my mom gave to me. These two albums were kept on a shelf in our Danish Modern hutch. In the back of one of the albums there was an envelope containing negatives. On the outside of the envelope was my name “Teddy” written in my mom’s familiar cursive hand writing. These negatives held the results at my 1st attempt at taking pictures and created a pathway backwards in time.
The other photos in the albums mostly taken by my dad. They were (and still are) images that I grew up looking at. There were baby pictures of my brother and I, my mom, my grandparents, uncles and aunts posing and candid, holidays revealed by what food lay on the table. In the back of these albums were invitations, graduation commencements, a menu, a few letters, and other artifacts including a drawing someone did of The Grinch. When you look at the same two albums over and over again you memorize them like the set of encyclopedias we had on our bookshelf. Over the years I would wonder if all this information became obsolete.
“It’s a Boy!” is my attempt at making some sense of this all. I’m looking for a gesture, a feel, a common link across the landscape of time and couple them with what I’m perhaps doing today. An attempt to reorder and package new pages that hopefully wont just sit on our shelf.
I know we are struggling. Technology has made everyone a photographer, writer or filmmaker. Yeah, I know my Canon Mark 2, I can operate it with my eyes closed but when the computer can’t catch up to how fast I’m shooting, there’s something liberating about untethering myself and say, “I’m going to card.” We’ve lost the purity of loading a roll of film on a metal reel in the dark and pressing the shutter release with your right index finger and advancing the film to the next frame with the back of your thumb. More tactile I guess. I don’t know where this post started but I’m going to upload an image any second now and publish it.
Packing my 2 favorite shirts at the Timberline Lodge. Mt Hood stands guard outside my window. It snowed every day we were here and it’s still snowing. It’s the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. In the top dresser drawer are stationary, pen, Gideon’s Bible, and ear plugs. I take the pen.
Both shirt collars are threadbare and worn. They both have been repaired crudely by me. New buttons and rips look like they were sewn by Dr. Frankenstein. I think of my Grandma Lena. We used to call her Nana in the Old House. She is the only person I’ve ever seen dead. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were so cold.
Nana in the Old House lived with my mom during the last years of her life. She walked to church everyday, read, watched The Price is Right and used the same tea bag over and over again. She used to mend and iron our clothes. I think she even ironed our underwear. Her closet had a handful of dresses which she made for herself. When my collars became threadbare she would cut them off with scissors and sew them on backwards to make them look new again. If Debbie and I ever had a girl we would have named her Lena.
It was 19 years ago today Debbie and I were married on Vieques, an island off the coast of Puerto Rico in a civil ceremony conducted in Spanish and witnessed by a camouflaged police officer. When the judge asked, “Is there anyone here who opposes this wedding,” I said, “I do,” because I thought he was asking me if I take this woman to be my wife. 19 years later, I’m still pretty clueless when it comes to most things but thankful and blessed to have Debbie around to translate.
I usually bring my Canon 5D Mark 2 with me wherever I go. It’s a big rig especially since I rarely take the 24mm-70mm lens off the body. I’ve modified (cut with my table saw) the sun shade so it will fit into my smaller camera bag. Last week I started using the camera in my iPhone. I’m hesitant about calling these pictures “true images” because of all the effects and actions available at the flick of a finger. It’s interesting taking pictures when people think you are texting on your phone.
I can’t remember the last time we celebrated Twelfth Night dinner on twelfth night, that is January 6th. Our dear friend Michael always hosts this evening and this was the first year he did so at his new house in Silverlake. Last years Twelfth Night was celebrated for the last time in Michael’s Westwoood apartment sometime in the spring.
As per custom or right of passage, once a Catanzaro boy becomes a teenager he is invited to join the evening. With Henry’s outlandish behaviour this year we might want to reconsider this custom.
Nice champagne, wine and a stinky assortment of cheeses from Andrew’s Cheese Shop led the way for some incredible braised beef short ribs with potato puree, swiss chard and horseradish cream from one of the most complicated recipes you’ll ever see from Sunday Suppers at Lucques cookbook.
Still packed away in a box, the kings cake ceramic baby bean, substituted with a cashew this year, was discovered amidst Eric’s slice as the evening (and Henry) wound down.
It takes about a week to settle down, carve out, shape what each of us want and need on our vacation. The want to do everything battles with the need to do nothing and somewhere in the middle a certain peace is found.
The 1st loaf of bread I made needed a little adjusting more salt and yeast but I’m on the right track. We’ve found ahi for $5.00 per pound so fresh fish is within our budget. There isn’t a second that goes by that one of our boys isn’t foraging for snacks in the pantry.
Word has it there’s a small swell coming. Sam just rode the bike to Tunnels to check out the break with binoculars. It’s a 1/2 mile paddle out to the the break so hopefully this old frame of mine can get it together to to make the voyage.
your package arrived and the sarong is lovely and the soap smells delicious. oh, and I also like the large (very alive) beetle that crawled out of the basket onto the table. I decided to take him outside, where he sadly died in the sun.xo