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Dirty scan. Brooklyn lovers. It was Kim and Lucie’s last night in Brooklyn. Tomorrow they were to return to Paris. I wanted a photoshoot before they left. Something very formal. So I sat them down in their S. 4th abode. When I showed up they were doing final touch ups on the apartment before moving out: mopping, wiping the stove down, packing their suitcases, returning the plastic jesus statue lamp to its original spot in the living room; the place came pre-furnished. It was tuesday evening. I headed over straight from work with little time to plan. They were looking great as they tend to do, but something was missing. The mirror was in place. I liked that placement, but early on I shot to avoid my reflection. As we went, something wasn’t clicking. By the time we got to what you see here, things picked up. It’s a reflection of Kim’s personality. Those who know Kim know someone’s clothes always come off around him. The shots only got worse. This here taken early in the night; PG13. R Negatives to come. Test shot. Fuji FP100C, shitty Polaroid scan. Mamiya RZ67.

Dirty scan. Brooklyn lovers.

It was Kim and Lucie’s last night in Brooklyn. Tomorrow they were to return to Paris. I wanted a photoshoot before they left. Something very formal. So I sat them down in their S. 4th abode. When I showed up they were doing final touch ups on the apartment before moving out: mopping, wiping the stove down, packing their suitcases, returning the plastic jesus statue lamp to its original spot in the living room; the place came pre-furnished.

It was tuesday evening. I headed over straight from work with little time to plan. They were looking great as they tend to do, but something was missing.

The mirror was in place. I liked that placement, but early on I shot to avoid my reflection. As we went, something wasn’t clicking. By the time we got to what you see here, things picked up.

It’s a reflection of Kim’s personality. Those who know Kim know someone’s clothes always come off around him. The shots only got worse.

This here taken early in the night; PG13. R Negatives to come.

Test shot. Fuji FP100C, shitty Polaroid scan. Mamiya RZ67.




Kim, on his mouth We didn’t have our picnic because of the rain. So we brought the food to Kims as Kim sat and did what Kim does. It’s a rough scan… Mamiya RZ67, Kodak Plus-x

Kim, on his mouth

We didn’t have our picnic because of the rain. So we brought the food to Kims as Kim sat and did what Kim does.

It’s a rough scan…

Mamiya RZ67, Kodak Plus-x




hello,
uhm just wondering how you found my tumblr, and why you started following...i'm just a curious cat! 

Don’t remember dude! I like what you post. Keeps a brother motivated.




Treat your talent right // don’t be an asshole 

How to fuck up a good relationship:

Greg Lotus does a ever-so-slightly-provocative photo shoot (I think it’s boring) with Lara Stone in 2008. For whatever reason he sits on the pictures for 2 years (enter now) when he decides to sell them to French Playboy. Despite having shown her goods in countless publications throughout her career, she’s pissed about this one… and she’s suing.

Patty Huntington @ Frockwriter gives the dirty details, here… 

Is it not the job of her management to handle this shit beforehand? 2010 Lara’s untouchable. But even if she wasn’t top shit in 2008, she was close enough. Where did management go wrong? Was there anything on paper?

Is this kind of scenario is frequently overlooked? Will this change the way people approach contracts moving forward?

Not sure her reputation is what’s at stake. But it’s the principle of the thing.

I think it’s shameless on Lotus’s part. He got his quick fix but he’s never going to work with her again. And she’s on top of the world. You don’t fuck with that. His move was impulsive and slightly pitiful… desperation in tough times. He should know better. I like his work. He didn’t have to go there. 

But again, how the hell was he given the option to begin with? Would love to see some example contracts to get a sense of what went wrong. It’s not really my field.




Stairwell, Brooklyn Spent last weekend in jail, downtown Brooklyn. Photographing abandoned spaces can be dangerous business. You run into the wrong security guard and you find yourself facing felony assault with bite marks on your leg. I guess that’s all I can say until September. Woop. I got good friends. Marshall what an ending! I didnt expect less from u. Haha u rule it ! Dumbest thing on earth… I hope it wasn’t that terrible and that they treated u well. We love u so fucking much! Listen to your fucking french mom from now!!! We are on the plane and wanna tell you one more time what a fucking dumbass you are and a fucking incredible friend! -Alice, Friend I didn’t get to say goodbye to her and Xavier; my lovely roommates who made this Summer so enjoyable. Sorry I missed you. The man is keeping me down. Hey man, my mom said she talked to your mom a couple of days ago and she asked if I was still in NY cuz you really needed my help? I’m not sure what she’s talking about, but let me know. -Ronnie, Cousin Bro. Are you in Jail? - Jae, Friend Oh Boy. So yr in jail. Ok. If you want me to come home tonight just fuckin say when kid. On my way back to bk. I sure hope you ain’t still in lockup. - Lara, Complicated friend And this. So sweet. me and jae been on the hunt for you. pleeease let us know when you can that yr in 1 fucking piece and not in too much trouble!!! -Lara, again.

Stairwell, Brooklyn

Spent last weekend in jail, downtown Brooklyn.

Photographing abandoned spaces can be dangerous business. You run into the wrong security guard and you find yourself facing felony assault with bite marks on your leg. I guess that’s all I can say until September. Woop. I got good friends.

Marshall what an ending! I didnt expect less from u. Haha u rule it ! Dumbest thing on earth… I hope it wasn’t that terrible and that they treated u well. We love u so fucking much! Listen to your fucking french mom from now!!! We are on the plane and wanna tell you one more time what a fucking dumbass you are and a fucking incredible friend!

-Alice, Friend

I didn’t get to say goodbye to her and Xavier; my lovely roommates who made this Summer so enjoyable. Sorry I missed you. The man is keeping me down.

Hey man, my mom said she talked to your mom a couple of days ago and she asked if I was still in NY cuz you really needed my help? I’m not sure what she’s talking about, but let me know.

-Ronnie, Cousin

Bro. Are you in Jail?

- Jae, Friend

Oh Boy. So yr in jail. Ok. If you want me to come home tonight just fuckin say when kid. On my way back to bk. I sure hope you ain’t still in lockup.

- Lara, Complicated friend

And this. So sweet.

me and jae been on the hunt for you. pleeease let us know when you can that yr in 1 fucking piece and not in too much trouble!!!

-Lara, again.




Neil Burgess, The End of Photojournalism 

The state of Photojournalism, straight from the top.

“I woke up this morning with a dream going around in my head. It was as if I’d been watching a medical drama, ER or something, where they’d spent half the programme trying to revive a favourite character: mouth to mouth, blood transfusions, pumping the chest up and down, that electrical thing where they shout “Clear!” before zapping them with 50,000 volts to get the heart going again, emergency transplants and injections of adrenalin …, but nothing works. And someone sobs, “We’ve got to save him we cannot let him die.” And his best friend steps forward, grim and stressed and says, “It’s no good. For God’s sake, somebody call it!”

Okay, I’m that friend and I’m stepping forward and calling it. “Photojournalism: time of death 11.12. GMT 1st August 2010.” Amen.”

Neil Burgess is the former head of Magnum and Network Photographers.

Full article here.

Photojournalism as a profession, traditionally speaking, is dead. It will find it’s way, but its back is turned to publishers for good.

As Photo Editors harvest flickr for coverage, wanna-be PJ’s chew their nails and consider the next step. It’s getting shittier and shittier but things are popping up over the last few years.

David Allen Harvey created and curates Burn Magazine, an online Journal highlighting photographic essays and handing out grants. It’s self published and ad-free. It’s no 2nd coming but it’s a step in the right direction.

Check out VII’s online publication if you haven’t already. Similar model, little less homegrown. 

And found in the comments of Neil’s article, I came across Latitude Magazine. I’m curious to see how this one does. No reviews in the itunes store so far. Ipad-only paid-content seems like a risky maneuver with no ad revenue coming in. But as stated in his comment, it’s published by the photographers shooting for it and the revenue goes directly into their pocket. But are people really willing to pay for it? I’m still undecided, and I don’t have an iPad, so count me out for now.

Either way I hope they do well. It’s a business model for an optimist and it sounds risky as hell. Risk is exactly what we need so I wish them the best.




Last days of development 

From the only lab in the US of A that still develops Kodachrome:

Dwayne’s says it will develop remaining Kodachrome rolls if they are received by Dec. 30, 2010. After that, forget it. Kodachrome developing is a complex proprietary process involving special chemicals and added dyes. It’s not something that can be easily duplicated in a home darkroom, and photographers who have tried to improvise their own version say that it produces a degraded (or worse, blank) image.

Get some. Be the last to develop this beautiful, impossible to process, overpriced film. 

Full article here.




Jae, Utica, New York. You’re beautiful.  Realized it this weekend; I want to start shooting color film. I’ve had an exclusive run with Plus-x, Tri-x, and Ilford 3200 for the last 8 months… polaroids don’t count.  This season is too fucking saturated to pick up on monochrome. The earths tilt is toward the sun, it’s in our favor, and all sorts of colorful wardrobe decisions are being made. And in a place like New York you’ll notice the clothing come out before the flowers do. I saw a skirt fly up in the rain yesterday. Under it was a pair of lavender panties; color in the most unexpected places. Mamiya RZ67. Kodak 100NC. 

Jae, Utica, New York.

You’re beautiful. 

Realized it this weekend; I want to start shooting color film. I’ve had an exclusive run with Plus-x, Tri-x, and Ilford 3200 for the last 8 months… polaroids don’t count. 

This season is too fucking saturated to pick up on monochrome. The earths tilt is toward the sun, it’s in our favor, and all sorts of colorful wardrobe decisions are being made. And in a place like New York you’ll notice the clothing come out before the flowers do.

I saw a skirt fly up in the rain yesterday. Under it was a pair of lavender panties; color in the most unexpected places.

Mamiya RZ67. Kodak 100NC. 




The last time I will ever see you jump here, for now. Chris Carbone, Utica, New York. You are on the road right now, my friend. Route 66 takes you to fruitful California where you’ll trade your cargo-pants for car insurance and that beautiful beard for a masters in film… AFI. Greatness. Like ol’ Tom Joad, almost fresh out of jail. We had an argument on Friday, something I guess I do when I know I’m about to lose somebody as important as you. Over the weekend I thought that was it. I was stumped at the thought of those being the parting words. What were they anyway? What a stupid fucking argument. But you took one more voyage through the hot concrete. Brooklyn! And that argument we once had made last nights goodbye sweet harmony. I was late for work this morning. UNION POOL PBR VEGAN DINNER DUCK DUCK WHISKEY SPECIAL L TRAIN ACTUALLY RUNNING ON THE WAY HOME. THANK GOD. We met 4+ years ago. Knowing you has changed my definition on the lifespan and quality of a friendship in this goddamn city. Drive safe out there. Love, Marshall Mamiya 6x7, Kodak 100NC.

The last time I will ever see you jump here, for now. Chris Carbone, Utica, New York.

You are on the road right now, my friend. Route 66 takes you to fruitful California where you’ll trade your cargo-pants for car insurance and that beautiful beard for a masters in film… AFI. Greatness. Like ol’ Tom Joad, almost fresh out of jail.

We had an argument on Friday, something I guess I do when I know I’m about to lose somebody as important as you. Over the weekend I thought that was it. I was stumped at the thought of those being the parting words. What were they anyway? What a stupid fucking argument.

But you took one more voyage through the hot concrete. Brooklyn! And that argument we once had made last nights goodbye sweet harmony. I was late for work this morning. UNION POOL PBR VEGAN DINNER DUCK DUCK WHISKEY SPECIAL L TRAIN ACTUALLY RUNNING ON THE WAY HOME. THANK GOD.

We met 4+ years ago. Knowing you has changed my definition on the lifespan and quality of a friendship in this goddamn city.

Drive safe out there.

Love, Marshall

Mamiya 6x7, Kodak 100NC.




Xavier at the Summit, Central Station, Detroit We swept it; we covered 16 stories of abandonment. Michigan Central Station was designed by Warren and Wetmore in 1913, the same architects behind New York’s Grand Central. Both monstrous stations went up the same year, so you can’t help but think W&W stretched themselves pretty thin. I guess it’s apparent where the focus was: 42nd and Park…shouldn’t it be? Detroit was doomed from the start. The station’s placement alone is baffling. The concourse at ground level was big, and maze-like. It took about 30 minutes to find a means for getting elevated, but we knew the roof was accessible. Deathtraps disguised themselves as functional stairwells. Offices looked like pillbox bunkers. Elevator shafts were uncomfortably black…elevators weren’t doing shit for you. It was a funhouse. Once walls, now sweeping vistas. Once hallways, now catwalks. Once ceilings, now floors… etc… everything misplaced. We got to the top - took us about 3 hours - and we sat; we fucking enjoyed it. So you have this picture. The air was cleaner up there. We took breath. We smoked. Click. Curiosity wears you out in a place like this. Going up floor by floor, scouring each for a revelation, refusing to believe no two layouts are the same (even though most were). But the top was the exception. Floor boards were planked and the widest in the building. Walls didn’t exist inside the perimeter. It was so open. Brick mountains were scattered about. Brick. Piping and wiring hung down and stuck up. Large windows and peak elevation brought on sun damage; all of the above contorted. See it before it goes. wiki!!!

Xavier at the Summit, Central Station, Detroit

We swept it; we covered 16 stories of abandonment.

Michigan Central Station was designed by Warren and Wetmore in 1913, the same architects behind New York’s Grand Central. Both monstrous stations went up the same year, so you can’t help but think W&W stretched themselves pretty thin. I guess it’s apparent where the focus was: 42nd and Park…shouldn’t it be? Detroit was doomed from the start. The station’s placement alone is baffling.

The concourse at ground level was big, and maze-like. It took about 30 minutes to find a means for getting elevated, but we knew the roof was accessible. Deathtraps disguised themselves as functional stairwells. Offices looked like pillbox bunkers. Elevator shafts were uncomfortably black…elevators weren’t doing shit for you. It was a funhouse. Once walls, now sweeping vistas. Once hallways, now catwalks. Once ceilings, now floors… etc… everything misplaced.

We got to the top - took us about 3 hours - and we sat; we fucking enjoyed it. So you have this picture. The air was cleaner up there. We took breath. We smoked. Click.

Curiosity wears you out in a place like this. Going up floor by floor, scouring each for a revelation, refusing to believe no two layouts are the same (even though most were). But the top was the exception. Floor boards were planked and the widest in the building. Walls didn’t exist inside the perimeter. It was so open. Brick mountains were scattered about. Brick. Piping and wiring hung down and stuck up. Large windows and peak elevation brought on sun damage; all of the above contorted.

See it before it goes.

wiki!!!