RIP Martin Parr

My last B-Sides post was about the impact Larry Clark, specifically Kids and Tulsa had on my work, and today I am back to talk about another photographer that had a massive effect on my work, but this time much later in life. Most of the photographers who had a profound impact on my work I discovered in my teens — people like Clark, Bruce Davidson, Diane Arbus and maybe more than anyone, Glen Friedman who made me want to pick up a camera in the first place to photograph the local DC punk bands I was going to see every weekend. The early 2000’s Vice aesthetic got me shooting film again in my 20s and had a big impact on my style in my post college life, but as an adult the photographer who has inspired me the most has to be Martin Parr. 

It’s not like I wasn’t familiar with Martin Parr, he was a member of Magnum Photography, a collective of photojournalists, that I always imagined one day joining when I was younger. That might sound particularly hilarious if you know my work, but photojournalism is the really in the background of all my work, even my mediocre nudes. Parr’s book Last Resort, a collection of working class UK seaside photography has been in my collection forever. His use of daylight flash is something I have tried so many times, but just never consistently with a fraction of the skill and vision that Parr has. His book Small World, where he turned the tables on tourists by photographing them, has been in the back of my head for years as well. You can run a direct line from a couple photos in that book to my zine Off The Hook. Photographing people taking photos, especially selfies, has long been apart of my work, and I know a lot of that comes from Parr, even if it was mostly subconsciously. 

But let’s be honest, my work doesn’t resemble Parr’s. He didn’t inspire my work in the same way that someone like Friedman or Clark did where you can see their work in mine, but he had a huge impact for two reasons. The first might be obvious if you know anything about Parr or read one of the many tributes to him after his death. He was maybe the biggest proponent of photo books as an art form. He literally wrote the book on them. He published so many of his own books, but also had an insane collection of them that he sold towards the end of his life (They are now at the Tate Modern) to found the Parr Foundation that looks after his archive as well as preserving the work of other important UK photographers. I am a massive photo book collector myself and have published many photo books and zines and I have no idea what any of that would look like without Parr. 

And finally we get to maybe the thing he did that most impacted my work, in a way that maybe no one has noticed because it happened so recently, but it just was exactly what I needed. In 2021 Parr released a book with the Anonymous Project called called Deja View. I was already a huge fan of the Anonymous Project, a massive collection of found photography, and at the time I was working with a group of people on a project digitizing found slide film called, Carousel Curated. Parr started pulling photos from his own photography library and matching his own work to found images from the Anonymous Project collection, creating a series of diptychs that made up the book. The images and the connections are so good and feel so effortless, although I know how time consuming it must have been. 

When you make books, you think about work in diptychs because you need to find images that work together on opposite pages. It’s honestly one of my favorite parts of making a book and I bet Parr feels the same way. Trying elevate my mediocre work by grouping images together to make something interesting has long been part of my process, my 2014 book Dinner With Igor is the prime example, but ever since flipping through Deja View I have sort of been obsessed with making diptychs out of my work. Now instead of taking a bunch of related images and then trying to find photos that work together after the edit, I have started thinking about the pairs first. It’s a small shift, and maybe not such an obvious one but it’s something I have been thinking about nearly every day for four years. 

A about a year after the book came out I did a thread of my images vs Carousel Curated images that I loved. It’s probably the last good thing I did on Twitter before that site became unusable.  I recently had a bunch of portraits in an art show here in Wilmington, NC where I showed them all as diptychs. I have also been working on a zine called Vanity that is a collection of license plates with images that work with those plates in obvious and not so obvious ways. I am actually quite excited about that one as it’s a split zine with my fiance. But on top of all that, it’s really just the way I think about images now. I have started taking photos specifically because I could see how they might pair with an image I shot years ago. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t but I can’t tell you how much of an impact that book has had on the way I think about my images past and future. 

So to honor Martin Parr, I pulled a bunch of  his images and paired them with images of mine that hopefully work together. His work is so much stronger than mine that I am not sure this is doing either of us justice, but I had to do it. Thank you so much for everything Martin, you are going to be inspiring photographers for generations.

On Kids, Tulsa, And Larry Clark’s Impact

Earlier this year photographer and filmmaker Larry Clark had a photography show of his early 90’s documentation of the skate scene that led to his seminal film Kids. I was actually in NYC at the time for my now fiance’s knee surgery, but I wasn’t able to make it over to the show because I was taking care of her. Not only was there a show, but Leo Fitzpatrick put together a zine with photographs from that time period and interview with Clark and Tobin Yelland. I am a photobook/zine collector, a Larry Clark collector, and Kids had and outsized impact on my life so I needed that zine.

I sent my friend Ronen down to the gallery for me, but they were sold out of the zine. The gallery told Ronen they were getting more in and they would save a copy for me. I called the gallery a few days later and they were holding onto it for me so I sent my buddy Mike over and he grabbed one. Mission accomplished. And then 7 months went by before I actually made it back to NYC, which is crazy in itself, but long story short, Mike finally gave me the zine last night. As I sat reading it while I was waiting for the train, I started thinking about how much of an impact Kids and Larry Clark had on my life and I basically wrote this post in my head before realizing I should actually write it down. Stuff like this is exactly why I created the “B-Sides” section of my website – a place to write down whatever I am thinking about without worrying about it detracting from my photography work.

In 1994 I was a freshman in high school I started a punk zine and eventually a punk record label. In 1995 I had to take an art class in high school and my mom had a camera so I figured maybe photography would be a good skill to have. I started shooting punk bands and really fell in love with it. These day band photography feels so fucking boring to me, but at the time that was all I wanted to do.

That same year, 1995 Kids came out and it blew my fucking mind. I had never seen a movie that felt real. It was so fucking relatable. I wasn’t a skater, but these were my people. I was living in suburban DC and not downtown Manhattan, but the sex, drugs, violence and boredom were all the exact same. There’s a scene in Kids where Telly and Casper roll up to Washington Square Park and daps up all their friends before they beat the living shit out of someone with skateboards. I used to go up to this fountain all my friends would hang out and do the exact same thing. The girl I lost my virginity to I had met right after she got out of juvie for hitting another girl in the face with a skateboard, trucks first. I once got in a brawl with a whole skate crew where I hit a guy with a baseball bat, had a shovel broken over my back and got knocked out with a beer bottle to the face. Kids felt like my life, only they were way fucking cooler. I knew I had to live in NYC one day… it just took me a decade to get there. 

Shortly after I fell in love with Kids my mom gave me a copy of Larry Clark’s book Tulsa. My mom is not normally the type of person to give their teenager a deeply NSFW book about drug addicted teens, but she loves documentary photography and she knew I would love it and she was right. I am guessing if she could do it all over again she probably wouldn’t have, but that book changed my life so dramatically and I don’t think I really knew that until I started thinking about it on the train last night. 

A lot of people might look at my work and think I was influenced my Nan Goldin, but I didn’t really find her work until I was in my 20s. Tulsa was the book that made me realize I could make art out of my idiot friends. I never even thought about just documenting my life. I was photographing bands, but not the people looking at the bands. I continued to shoot music, but I also finally turned my attention on my friends. Sadly in 2001 I got a digital camera and the digital photos I took from 2001 until 2008 are absolute trash, but you can trace a direct line from my discovery of Tulsa in the late 90s to the subculture, sex and chaos I have spent my life documenting. 

Obviously I have others to thank for that too, many of them from the skateboarding world, the CKY2k videos and even Tom Green had a big impact on turning the lens on my friends. I have so much fucked up video on old DV tapes trying to emulate those pre Jackass skate videos. I remember someone comparing some of my photos to Ed Templeton at some point and I only knew him cause my vegan punk friends would buy his vegan leather skate shoes. When I found his photography after seeing Beautiful Losers in 2008 he instantly became one of my favorite photographers. The reason I got into band photography in the first place is because of my love of Glen Friedman who started photographing punk bands for Skateboarder Magazine and really helped bring those worlds together. I owe my whole life to punk rock, but skate culture is a close second even though I can barely skate. 

Not too long ago I had a bunch of old negatives scanned (I have more being scanned as we speak) and it gives a little peek into the nascent stages of my photography career. I have shared some of that work, but I put together a little gallery of that early work from my late teenage years that shows the influence of Kids, Tulsa and Larry Clark.  I just wish I had kept this up instead of switching to digital too early. I hope you dig this stuff. 

Art Show In LA This Weekend

This weekend I am going back to LA for the first time in way too long. I have a few photos in the Superchief Contagious Culture show on Saturday night (7-11pm at Superchief Gallery). The show is curated by LA photography legend Estevan Oriol and I was so psyched my photos made the cut. Not only do I love Superchief (been doing stuff with them for pretty much as long as they have existed) but it means a ton that Estevan dug my stuff. 

Anyway, when I sent in my photos I mentioned that I wish I could be there for the opening and it made me think, maybe I can be there? I looked up flights and I had plenty of airline miles and it was the perfect excuse to go to LA. My hope is that I will get to do a few photo shoots and see some friends, but at the very least I will get to check out the show and see my brother and his kids who I haven’t seen since Christmas. 

If you are in LA it would be great to see you at the show, and if you are in LA and also happen to be my friend hit me up. I wanna try and see as many people as I can in the less than 72 hours I am there. 

Okay that’s it. I really need to do more short posts like this, it’s the whole reason I created the B-Sides section of this website, but I haven’t been taking advantage.