Today marks 20 years since Interpol’s Turn On the Bright Lights was released.
During the intense and assiduous period of post 9/11 NYC, a new genre of music began surfacing. Some called it post-punk revival. The Strokes. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs. The Killers by way of Vegas.
Interpol was certainly a passenger - swelling melodies, glam beats, a little kitsch. But their offering was a bit more mysterious. Darker. A kiss with black lipstick.
The 11 tracks flow together and, perhaps unintentionally, offer an unlikely, scotch-taped narrative of the the vibe of New York during the first year of the what we call the post 9/11 world. Hopeless optimism, tenuous relationships, meddling frustration, desperate connections.
Kindled out of a time of fear, the music hits home on a deeply human level. We’ve all been there.
Paul Banks’ lyrics seem nearly impossible to have been penned by a kid of 23. The album’s heavy hitter, Obstacle 1, seems to be written as a love song to New York herself.
“I wish I could eat the salt off of your lost faded lips
We can cap the old times
Make playing only logical harm”
The city was deeply wounded and these four kids in dark suits effused their love for a place that gave them just enough to make it to the next day.
Turn On the Bright Lights is a New York album. And while the city is present in every song, it’s not about that. It’s about the humans that walk her streets. It is perhaps one of the most honest albums ever written.
From the haunting final track which plays like the world’s most elegant therapy session to the track named after the city itself, Paul and Interpol remind us that it’s up to us to turn on the bright lights.
Yet, that chorus isn’t the album’s shining star. Surprisingly it’s the goofy line in “PDA”:
“Sleep tight, grim rite
We have two hundred couches where you can sleep tight, grim rite”
In the midst of a barrage of images of planes flying into buildings, huddled masses covered in concrete dust, the fear of the unknown weighing on the minds of all Americans, Paul invites us over to sleep tight. The line evokes safety. Home. Peace.
It’s what all of us desperately needed in 2002 and it’s what we need so desperately twenty years later.
Lately I have been caught up in the stress of day-to-day bullshit. The little stuff. Anxiety is in check but I have been dealing with depression again.
This morning I saw a photo of a Bristlecone Pine tree and it reminded me of a similar photo I shot in July of 2018:
This photo of Bristlecone Pines was taken on the slopes of Mt. Evans in the Arapaho / Roosevelt National Forests. They only grow at high elevation, usually above 10,000 feet. Their age is somewhat debated and not always easy to ascertain but most ecologists agree that these trees are anywhere from 1,500 to 3,000 years old. Other trees have been documented to be older than that. They seem impervious to time. When compared to these trees, a human life span is just a blip. They will not change much in the next 80 years. These trees will be here hundreds of years after we are gone. Much like the Rockies that surround them, they stand silent in their resolve. They endure through the silliness of human struggle and the futility of human achievement.
I have been trying to come to terms with the idea that the world has fundamentally changed. I tried to create some photos over the past few months but the inspiration has been fleeting. I have been writing a lot - still working on my screenplay and a few short stories.
This summer was mostly about good music and movies; the two things that get me out of bed everyday.
Listen: Turn On the Bright Lights, Interpol, 2002. Released on Matador Records. I am the last person to the Interpol party. This album has changed my life. I keep wondering how I missed this one. The music is dark, mysterious and melodic. The lyrics are fucking beautiful. This album is one of the best of the early 2000s - that magical time of post-punk-indie-rock-synth-revival. It has been on repeat for about two months.
Watch: The China Syndrome, IPC Films, 1979. They don’t make movies like this anymore. Analog, colorful, brilliant acting. Can we just agree that Jack Lemmon was a fucking legend?
Visit: Folk Studio Brilliant interior designers located in Sydney, Australia. I spend a lot of time here, dreaming. Check out their IG too. Get lost in the beauty.
During the last several, strange months, I found myself with a fair amount of free time. Like many of us during these pandemic times, I didn’t have anywhere to go; better yet, it was best to stay home. Since I wasn’t traveling anywhere, photography was not really an option. My level of creativity has been depressingly low and film is too expensive to waste. After several conversations with my brother - who is a true audiophile - I decided to take a trip down the audio rabbit hole. It seems like anything that interests me is always a slippery slope. My brother warned me: “Be careful, you will always wonder: how much better can this sound? And then you are in deep.” What the hell, I thought, I will start small… I’m just going to test the waters.
But it made me think about the bigger picture of listening to music. The way we listen to music has changed dramatically in the last ten years. The accessibility of MP3 players and streaming services have changed the way we experience music and movies. Today, music is more available and easier to access than ever before. Streaming services have revolutionized access to entire catalogues of music for a nominal cost. Physical media such as CDs and DVDs are on the verge of becoming obsolete. And while I am a big proponent of more music for everyone, this “instant” access has some serious drawbacks, both for the listener and the artist.
I like CDs. There is something so rewarding about a tangible medium, something you can hold in your hands. Furthermore, an album often represents a specific musical statement or period in an artist’s catalogue. One of life’s small pleasures is unwrapping a new CD for the first time. As the music plays, you get comfy and peruse the CD jacket. Often bands include lyrics, photographs, and other information for the listener. It’s a complete statement, both visually and sonically. CDs are often recognized as one of the better mediums for music reproduction. They have very high quality and will last a lifetime. The do not degrade as they are played like many analogue mediums such as vinyl or cassette tapes. (Let’s face the fact that cassette tapes were pretty abysmal.)
And while some listeners pine for the warmth and analogue vibes of vinyl, for me it’s not really practical. Regardless of which medium you choose, when you buy a tangible copy of an album (or a book or movie) it’s yours forever. Do we ever really own what we purchase “in the cloud”? However, I will admit, CDs don’t really mesh with my move towards minimalism. They take up space and can be bad for the environment. Perhaps there is some value in digital streaming?
I decided to explore my options for digital music. I purchased a set of Bose Companion II speakers. For $100, they seemed to get good reviews. Audiophiles would probably throw them off the nearest bridge, but as I mentioned, I am just testing the waters here folks. Next, I started a membership with TIDAL HiFi Music Streaming. They are one of the front runners of high quality music streaming. They offer lossless files in MQA format which, as I understand it, retains much more information than a compressed or “lossy” music file. The final piece of the equation - on recommendation from my brother - was a USB DAC (Digital Audio Converter) for my MacBook. I purchased the Dragonfly Black v. 1.5 from Audio Quest, also for $100. The built-in DAC in a computer is pretty bad, so the USB DAC should help bring the most out of the MQA files.
So, as the days grew shorter and the weather grew colder, I began to isolate myself and listen to music. I would listen to tracks on Apple Music and then compare the quality with that of the same track in MQA format. With the DAC plugged into my MacBook powering the Bose speakers, the difference in audio quality was quite palpable.
Without it, there is no bass response and vocals sound muffled. With the DAC, the music has presence and the vocals are loud and clear. The difference between MQA and other lower-quality files was less discernible. If anything, it’s all in the vocals, they seem more present. If I pop in a CD, the quality of the audio, to my untrained ear, is about the same as the MQA. Maybe it’s all a gimmick? I’m not really a headphones guy, but with a set of decent headphones, the MQA files are pretty remarkable.
I’ve enjoyed experimenting with some new ways to listen to music. I gotta admit, I still prefer a CD playing in my Sony component system. I am digging the TIDAL service, but it is a tad pricey. I don’t think I am going to go much further down the audio rabbit hole. It gets expensive pretty quick. I may want to check out some better speakers soon but I don’t think I will be shopping for any ARCAM products this year. And while I consider myself a little “old school”, I do like trying new technology. We can’t fight the future all the time.
I wonder how much better it would sound if I bought…
Listen: Best Drugs, Matthew Feasley, 2020. Self-released. Two tracks that are both beautiful and melancholy. I discovered his work from a film and I hope he releases an EP soon.
Watch: The Dig, Netflix Films, 2021. A good story about the 1939 Sutton Hoo excavations in England. Makes me wish I lived somewhere with some history.
Visit: The British Museum, Sutton Hoo Exhibit. Let’s keep the Anglo-Saxon theme going. I would love to get back to England and I think the British Museum would be my first stop. After a chip shop.
Not that long ago I sent six rolls of film off to Indie Film Lab. This is something I have done on a regular basis for the last several years. Since 2012 I have created nearly all of my work using film. I became enamored with the look and feel of black and white film and it worked well for the the images that I wanted to make. I get caught up in the mood and mystery of a black and white image. I love the grain and contrast. To me, it’s just what photography is supposed to look like.
However, shooting film isn’t easy. It’s a process. And what does that process look like? Well that answer differs for every photographer, but here is a run down of my process over the past several years shooting film.
Shooting film requires a film camera…or a few of them. It makes the most sense to start out on 35mm. The cameras tend to be easier to use and most 35mm films stocks give you 36 frames per roll. Other options are medium format or, if you follow the “go big or stay home” adage, large format. As far as 35mm film cameras go, there are only two companies that still make one brand new: Leica and Nikon. The Nikon F6 is expensive and the Leica with a good lens will cost as much as a used Toyota Corolla.
I’ve never owned a “new” (fresh out of the box) film camera. I have always bought them used. There are lots of places to find a used 35mm camera: Ebay, retailers like B&H, your grandmother’s attic. Prices vary widely: you can buy a used 35mm camera for $5 or $5,000. Again, raid the basement: find your dad’s old Canon from high school and dust it off. Usually it will have a lens, either a 50mm or 35mm.
Next you need some film. I buy my film from B&H or The Find Lab. I don’t know anything about color film. I shoot black and white film; usually Kodak T-MAX or Ilford Delta film stocks. It’s all personal preference. I like a film with a little less contrast, that way if I want more, I can add it in post.
So you have your camera and you loaded in some fresh film. You are ready to shoot… but, and this part is tough… you have no idea if the camera works. You need to run a roll or two through it as a test. Check the shutter speeds. Shoot in different light. Make sure the film advances. Then send the film off for processing. And wait. $50 later you either have gorgeous photos of your feet or trees or whatever you shot… or you have a camera that doesn’t work.
I have had decent luck with used film cameras. I bought a Canon AE-1 in 2010 for $80 and it has always worked well. We’re about the same age. It has been cross-country three times. The 35mm lens is pretty standard but I love the way it renders black and white film.
I shot nearly all of my portrait work from about 2015 to 2019 with a Mamiya 645 medium format camera. It was rather difficult to use and focus. The lens wasn’t that sharp until around f/4 so I usually shot at f/5.6 or f/8 and for that you need some light. 400 speed film was a must. Despite the challenges, I really loved the camera. The negatives are gorgeous. And it is so mechanical. Over the course of four years, I shot an entire body of work with that camera, mostly on a tripod.
Every roll of film I have shot for the past eight years I have sent to Indie Film Lab in Montgomery, Alabama. The folks who work there are the most wonderful people. They are masters at processing and scanning film. The quality of their work is fantastic. And since they are a pro lab, they charge pro prices. On average it costs around $20 to process and scan a roll of film. Send in six or seven rolls and it hits hard. I have never once thought their services are overpriced. I recommend them to anyone who wants the best possible film scans.
The process of shooting film is as completed or as easy as you make it. It takes some level of dedication to the medium. It’s flat out way too fucking expensive to just go out and shoot frame after frame. You have to think about your subject matter. You need to really study light and shoot in the best possible light you can find. And above all you must realize that you don’t know half as much as you think you do. I have been shooting film for years but I still feel like a novice. It can be wonderful, depressing, frustrating and exciting all at the same time. At times, I have been so discouraged over the years. Nothing is worse than getting back a few rolls and not having one image that speaks to you. But then you open that last folder and an image jumps out. And you load up some more film and keep shooting.
The last few months were so difficult on so many levels. The pandemic made it nearly impossible to travel. For the first time since 2016 I did not go out west. It was so hard to come to terms with that. I also didn’t shoot much film since the opportunities for shoots were sparse. And the pandemic impacted the process: shipping times for buying film were delayed. Some film stocks were back-ordered for a while. And the post office experienced a crisis. I was nervous to send film via USPS after a package I sent was in the system for over three weeks.
At the end of August I put most of my film cameras away for a while. I did a few portrait shoots in September and I shot some film. That was the last of it. I am not sure when I will shoot another roll. Maybe soon. In the meantime I have been using a digital camera and it’s cool. It’s so different. Digital photography opens tons of possibilities and they streamline the process significantly.
But they are so boring. There’s no magic. There’s no mechanical feel. They aren’t sexy. They are like an appliance for making images and they do what they do very well.
I hope this pandemic is over soon. I dream about going out west with my little Canon film camera and a bunch of film. I can’t wait to load in the first roll, the frame counter on “1”.
Nothing but possibility.
I hope you are all well. Please message me if you want to talk about shooting film or if you have questions about getting started.
Paul xoxo
Listen: Ouroboros, Ray LaMontagne (2016). A concept album, it is wonderfully melodic and melancholy. Mostly acoustic, the album is very minimalist, almost delicate.
Watch: Fargo, Working Title Films, 1996. A Cohen Brothers masterpiece, this dark comedy will have you doing the “Minnesota nice” accent for a few days.
Visit: Hold Still The Duchess of Cambridge, Patron of the National Portrait Gallery, commissioned Hold Still, an ambitious community project to create a unique collective portraits of the UK during lockdown.
Helmut Newton once said that in his view, the two "dirty" words in Photography were "good taste" and "art". Is photography an art form? Or is that just too pretentious?
I've never really thought of it as art and I don't specifically consider myself an "artist". I like to create images. I find photography to be fascinating and mysterious. I also never really considered masters of the genre, much like Helmut himself, as artists. They are just really fucking good photographers. Sally Mann, Dorothea Lange, Annie Leibovitz - all masters. Artists? Hmmm.
Well, there are those that view photography as high art and Phillips Auction House is gearing up for a big sale of photographs - scheduled for 25 September in London.
Recently, I was looking at the catalogue and was captivated by many of the lots up for sale. Iconic images from true masters. Here are a few favorites that jumped off the screen.
Lot #57 Gregory Crewdson - Untitled, 2004. (Estimate £30,000 - 50,000)
The soft blueish purple color cast is intriguing. There is a sense of place. A sense of humanity in this photograph. The open doors of the station wagon create a balance. The photograph is modern, but there is a timeless feel. The classic American grocery store. Simple. Beautiful. And a sense of sadness. A sense of loss.
Lot #142 Hiroshi Sugimoto - Time Exposed, 1991. (Estimate £8,000 - 12,000)
Sugimoto's work has long captivated me. His long exposure work, usually of the horizon over a body of water is so simple but so mysterious. His photography takes the viewer out of space and time. There is no place, yet the work is familiar. It is somewhere we have been. Somewhere familiar. He is a master of black and white.
Lot #150 Nick Brandt - Elephant Five, Amboseli, 2008. (Estimate £20,000 - 30,000)
A gorgeous photograph of majestic, beautiful animals. The print itself is 103.3 x 154 cm (40 5/8 x 60 5/8 inches) so it would be larger than life on an exhibition wall. A large photographic print for the world's largest land mammal. Look at the little baby!
Lot #60 Sally Mann - Untitled #13 from Deep South, 1998. (Estimate £10,000 - 15,000)
I don't have a favorite photographer but Sally Mann's work has inspired me so much over the past ten years. Her photography is mysterious and meaningful. She often photographs her family and other people close to her. Her controversial book Immediate Family (Aperture, 1992) is one of my favorite collections of photographs. Her work tells a story. Her work is product of her vision as much as it a product of the land where she shoots.
Lot #4 Wolfgang Tillmans - paper drop (studio) II, 2011. (Estimate £100,000 - 150,000)
This photograph by Wolfgang Tillmans is printed 135 x 202 cm (53 1/8 x 79 1/2 in.). Huge. When I first saw it, I blinked a few times. It's folded paper. But. I looked a little harder. Look at the texture. Look at the light in the middle of the frame. The softness. The gradation. Could we consider this a still life? It is somehow metaphysical. And while it may look like a folded piece of paper in some really fucking great studio light (it is), I’m fascinated by the amount artistic vision that went into creating this work. And it is estimated to bring £100,000 (~$127,000).
Auction is tomorrow in London. I will be curious to check the sales results.
For some, photography is fine art.
I just like shooting photographs.
That's all for now.
Listen: The Kills - "Ash and Ice" (2016). Recently discovered and so fucking awesome. Go listen. It will make you feel something.
Watch: Light from Light, (Grasshopper films, 2019). Such a beautiful film. The cinematography was gorgeous. Check it out.
Visit: Phillips Photography Auction: London 25 September 2020
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