Tuesday, February 9th, 2010.

I’ve had at least two people today ask me how old I am. The best response I could stomach was “somewhere between 45 and 50.” This is the truth, though watered-down. And this is quite a bit older than I want to be. To be honest, I really don’t know. I could certainly whip out my drivers licenses and clear up the confusion, but denial suits my mood today.

I began the day catching up on my RSS feeds (I’m glad I shifted over to Google Reader, and linked all my exported feeds through Feedly: clean, cool interface).

Around 10:30 I drove to Eddie’s drive-thru for some breakfast tacos and enjoyed a late and leisurely birthday breakfast with a pot of Cafe Bustelo, con leche. I was watching, via NetFlix online, a Terry Pratchett adaptation made for British TV. It wasn’t until about 1:30 that I decided to check my email.

Shit! A fast and hectic cluster of Luminaria-related emails were demanding where a certain mountain of paperwork was. Seems I was supposed to get all this stuff to the staff of one of the co-chairs weeks ago. I guess I missed that meeting. I made some phone calls, sent some placating emails, and then I jumped in the shower. My original plan for the day was entirely low-impact. I’d lounge about, and perhaps accept a invitation to a free birthday lunch from amongst my legions of fans, and eventually make it to a Luminaria steering committee meeting at 4:45…followed by the grand Luminaria Artists Meeting at 6pm. But now, I had to fix a fuck-up. (No problem, really. It seems none of my rabid fan-base ever pulled it together and tracked me down to treat me to a birthday lunch this year. Aw.)

I drove to C4 Workspace and began abusing the little copier machine by forcing it to cough out about sixty copies in it’s halting, palsy fashion. Don’t get me wrong. This printer/fax/scanner/copier is great for the occasional use, but it ain’t no industrial machine. However, I was able to deliver all the paper work to the Southwest School of Art and Craft by the deadline. And because when I visit the Southwest School, I always park in the downtown library parking lot, it also gave me an excuse to return a book that was about to become over-due.

I was able to return to C4 and print out some forms I needed for the Luminaria meetings and then head off to the meetings at the Pearl Stables, making it there just in time.

I grabbed a seat at the far end of the joined tables. Soon I found myself sitting next to Susanne Cooper, co-chair of the dance committee. I’d met Susanne from working on Luminaria 2009. But finally I was able to have a one-on-one with her. We bounded over lunch a couple weeks back. I like her a lot. We can now–if the situation calls for it–bitch and kvetch sotto voce from the sidelines. Warm and solid friendships have been build on less.

By a quarter to six we walked down from the mezzanine level of the Pearl Stables and joined the artists who had been slowly wandering in and randomly taking their seats at the large round tables in the main space. The idea was that after some introductory remarks by the Luminaria Co-Chairs, Paula Owen and George Cisneros, the roomful of artists would be told to cluster, by discipline, in regions of the room where the discipline co-chairs were seated.

I was sitting stage left with my film co-chair, Adam Rocha. A few of the film folks had found us already. But by the time we moved to the breakout session, those other film folks came to join us. I’m a bit perplexed why two artists who were accepted into the film category who I swear I saw walk into the room never bothered to come and join the rest of us. What happened, Pete? Michele? I distinctly remembered popping an Altoid. And as for my “I Fucked Jessica Tandy” t-shirt, I haven’t worn that in ages. Was there some other manner in which I offended?

While Adam and I were talking to the filmmakers–explaining the venues and asking for questions and feedback–George Cisneros walked up on stage and leaned into the microphone.

“If I could have your attention, please. One of our steering committee members has a birthday today. Erik Bosse, co-chair of the film committee is, um, thirty-one years old today.”

There were some titters from the obvious lie. And there was also more applause than I warranted. Yes, a majority of the filmmakers knew me personally…and maybe another thirty people in the room. But when the singing of Happy Birthday began, it seemed like most of the 100 or more people in the room were joining in.

Twenty years ago I would have been mortified. But, really, it was sweet. In fact, this is what George had been talking about earlier in the evening when he had stressed that if any artist felt that he or she had not been treated with respect, please, let us know…because, well, this community is too small to allow such discord to exist.

The truth is, as wonderful as this was, I’ve become a bit jaded. I blame Nikki Young. Damn, it was she who sang happy birthday to me back in 2008 at the Ruta Maya coffee house. I adore Nikki. Sadly I spend too little time in her company. (She’s smart, funny, playful, and, of course, quite lovely–and these qualities are guaranteed to break a strong man’s heart at a hundred paces.) Maybe my wish for 2010 is to spend more time in Nikki’s company. Hmm, that sounds wise….

So, thank you so much Nikki! The fact is, she managed to get George up on stage (though he’s rather hammy, so it was probably fairly easy) and get this little sweet surprise into gear.

There are times when I want to leave this city. But things like this–Nikki, George, and a whole room of artists–well, these freaky events continue to hold me captive. There is no other city like San Antonio.

After the meeting Victor and Sandra asked if they could take me out to dinner. Carlos was asking the same question. We settled upon Sam’s Burger Joint, as it was within walking distance.

It was a wonderful night. Yep. I spent it with: Victor Payan and Sandra Sarmiento (aka Payan y Pocha); Carlos Pina (of Haunted House Studio fame); Sandra Torres and her daughter Jessica Torres (the preeminent San Antonio teen filmmaker).

We chatted and we schemed…and we caught up on the chisme of San Antonio arts and artists. This is always an eye-opener. The art scene in San Antonio is damn small. We found even more nodes of interconnectedness. Forget literal blood-ties–take a peek at the other forms of connectedness. The fact is, we’re all family.

It was a very wonderful night with dear friends and more love than I deserve.

Thanks!

I’m more than a bit chagrined that I didn’t make it to any screenings at this year’s CineFestival. Perhaps I’m miffed that this is the first time in four years (five?) I wasn’t invited to help as a judge. I’d gotten used to swanning in with my VIP pass. Though, earlier in the week, I had the best of intentions–I was planning to visit Saturday and Sunday. In fact, Thursday I drove over to the Guadalupe for the San Antonio’s Film Commission’s CineFestival Party, but when I showed up (early, I’ll admit) there were only three people there, and the one person I knew (a San Antonio cultural luminary) was studiously ignoring my presence. I decided to decamp. Friday I was busy preparing for my screening of a video piece at the Keller-Rihn Studio over at the Blue Star art complex for First Friday. As for Saturday, I took a long bike ride–and later inexplicably feel into a dark funk. And as for Sunday, the day I really should have gone, I found myself with the opportunity to spend the day with a pretty girl I’m very fond of…so, well, yeah, of course I went with that. And now CineFestival’s over. And so I guess I’m a heel. Dammit….

@@@@@

One of San Antonio’s more talented young filmmakers is planning to shoot a feature film here in May. He contacted me, wanting to know if I’d be willing to help. Sure, I said. He sent me the script. I’m about halfway through. It’s a bit formulaic for my tastes, but that probably means it’s actually marketable. So far I’m impressed. The script has a solid structure, and it’s clear he knows what he’s doing. When this filmmaker followed up with a phone call, he mentioned that he wanted me to play one of the parts. This took me by surprise. I’d assumed he wanted some help on crew. And maybe he wants that as well. But acting? Other than some short film Pete did which I still haven’t seen, I’ve only ever “acted” in my own pieces. If you put aside some embarrassing instructional videos I shot of myself talking about collecting rare books, and if you ignore a few of my video blogs where I turn the camera on myself, I’ve only ever appeared on camera in cameo performances, usually without dialogue. Well, okay, there was my mockumentary titled “Incident at the River.” I was “acting” all over that piece. But it was just me, improvising…and the only time I was performing with another actor, it was with Carlos Pina, and he’s so talented and natural that he can make anyone look good. (I’d add a link to the piece, but it looks like my videos posted on my old mac.com site don’t work with all browsers–Firefox doesn’t work, but Safari, of all things, does).

Ah, hell–here it is. If this link doesn’t give you picture, try another browser. If that doesn’t work, I have no answer. Try it out:

http://homepage.mac.com/erikbosse/iMovieTheater46.html

My point? I’m no actor.

But I said yes. When this filmmaker is ready to hold auditions, I’ll give it a shot. He told me he was thinking of me when he was writing the part. Maybe he was being honest–the character is pretty verbose and even has a little pontificatory scene. That could be me, as I can be something of a gasbag. But in the script this character is defined as “a man in his 60s.” My questions is, just how old does this guy think I am? I’m having a birthday this Tuesday. I’d have to find my driver’s license to narrow it down to a specific year, because I can never keep track of numbers, but I do know that I’m somewhere between 45 and 50. Tragically old as that may be, it sure ain’t putting me in the category of “a man in his ’60s.” Maybe the plan is to age me with makeup. But if I were expected to sound like an old man, it’ll all come out like a bad Jimmy Stewart impression.

In summation, I’ll be another year older Tuesday. I could look up my age, you know, right now; but the truth is I’m embracing this state of vaguery and confusion to buffer these subconscious intrusive titterings of mortality. If I know only one thing, it’s that in comparison to “a man in his 60s,” I’m just a fresh-faced punk kid. Yeah!

@@@@@

First Friday was a blast. I set up my projector in Deborah’s place at Blue Star: the Keller-Rihn Studio. Late last year (November, I believe), a beautiful young woman, came knocking on the door of Deborah’s studio. She was a model, looking for a photographer. Deborah was quite taken by her pleasant manner, her beauty, and the fact that she had the lower six chakras tattooed along her spine. This last bit was quite a plus. Deborah has been fascinated by Eastern philosophy for most of her life. She has incorporated this fascination into her art more often than not. I’m a bit too much of a cynic, a skeptic, to bandy about a word like “kismet,” but, man, this was a perfect intersection of two creative personalities. During a very fruitful photo session, Deborah chose four of the strongest images from the shoot. She printed these photos on large pieces of canvas (about two by three feet) and tinted and embellished them with oil paint. They kick ass! I wish I could afford to buy art.

When this model told Deborah that she was a fire dancer, another photo shoot was lined up. I was invited to come take part. I said yes to the invite because, um, you can’t say no to watching a beautiful girl dancing with fire. (Well, perhaps I’m speaking only of myself–but, could you say no?)

I video-taped the girl. I made a quick edit and screened the piece at Jump-Start for their annual performance party.

And so, as Deborah was hoping to sell one of her new painted photos, I brought my projector and played my film on a wall of Deborah’s studio. This seemed to me a smart marketing move.

Sadly, she didn’t sell any of her art. Fucking San Antonio philistines!

But, ultimately, it was a great time. Many people I know and love came blundering in to Deborah’s studio during their First Friday night’s artsy, and for the most part, inebriated peregrinations.

Monday.

I probably should be doing some serious work on shaping up this Luminaria film stuff, but I keep finding excuses to procrastinate. My current excuse is that it’s too beastly cold to do anything. But today I finally crawled out of the warmth of my bed around 2pm, braved a cold shower, and headed over to C4 to get some work done. It was warm there. And coffee was waiting. And John’s wonderful sandwiches are only a thirty second walk away–out the door, turn right, and right again: there you are, at the Filling Station. Damn fine pizza, too.

I achieved a modicum of productivity, and around 8pm, I drove to the La Fiesta on S. Flores to stock up on provisions. And that brings me up to date.

In those earlier, bed-ridden hours, I was suckling on movies via the NetFlix “Watch Instantly” option.

“The Host,” a Korean monster film. This film has enjoyed a shit-load of praise. The effects are strong and well integrated into the story. It’s kooky, sweet, and, in turns, playful and grisly. I wanted to like it a lot more than I did. The story’s rather unfocused, and it’s a good thirty minutes too long. But if you like monster movies (and don’t we all, to some degree?), I can’t put it down too much–it’s so much better than the basic American monster fare.

“Off the Grid: Life on the Mesa.” This is a documentary about a bunch of social drop-outs living in a region of the New Mexican desert. When I lived in the Big Bend region of Texas, I met some of these types. Too much in love with their firearms and the American flag to be called hippies; yet too enamored of their marijuana and ad hoc co-operative extended communities to be called reactionary militia types. Many of the residents of the Mesa are veterans. They freely (and at times, grimly) acknowledge their mental illness, their PTSD, their difficulties with substance abuse. The residents aren’t all ex-military guys. There are old hippies, women, and runaway kids. The strength of this documentary is that even though these people are all very flawed, we get to see them, on several occasions, coming together and functioning as a healthy, caring community. This is still the Old West. And the folks who live on the Mesa are operating much as I assume the early Anglo settlers of the west behaved. This lone individualism is, of course, a silly fiction. These people show how a community on the very fringe of law and society have to band together to survive. It’s also interesting to see how often they utilize Native American societal structures, such their Council of Elders, and the fact that women are turned to when the decisions of the greatest social conflict have to be considered. Don’t get me wrong. These folks are all massively flawed and fucked up. This is far from a Utopia. But I think it’s a wonderful reminder that if something awful were to happen and we were all reduced to a pre-industrial state, we’d be able to create communities, tribes, councils, and governments. If these obligate fuck-ups can build a functioning community on a blighted desert mesa with no water, electricity, or governmental structure–well, hell, maybe there’s hope for us all if things do go to shit.

“Skins.” This is a British drama about a group of teens living in Bristol. I don’t usually like teen dramas. But this one is so irreverent. These kids are out of control. They’re smoking, drinking, fucking, and drugging. It’s what Ferris Bueller would have been were that movie not directed by that useless snoozer, John Hughes. I have to admit that I never cared for John Hughes. I could never relate to his characters. This is similar to the problems I have with Salinger. I have NOTHING in common with those over-privileged motherfuckers that infest Salinger’s prose or Hugh;s films. But these kids in “Skins” come closer to my teen years. I had a hard time getting into this series with the first episode, But by the halfway mark of that first show I was sold. I’ve only seen the first three episodes of season one, but the writing, acting, production values–all wonderful. But just as important, this show is brave–it takes the audience to some uncomfortable places. Also, there’s loads of nudity. And I rather enjoy that.

@@@@@

Tuesday.

One of the annual shows at that most crucial of San Antonio galleries, Centro Cultural Aztlan, is the Segundo de Febrero event. This commemorates the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo of 1848. This marks the largest land-grab in our nation’s history. Essentially, we wrested 525,000 square miles from Mexico. However, the disputed region of Texas should be included in those spoils of war. The adds another, roughly, 400,000 square miles to the total. Toss in the Gadsden Purchase of 1854, and it’s all take take take. This is, to the Mexican-Americans, their equivalent of “We didn’t land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth Rock landed on us.”

Last year there was an incredible installation at the Aztlan. A chain link fence was built, running the length of the gallery. But that was okay. You could see the art on the walls of both sides because of big holes cut in the fence.

The major piece this year is San Alamo, or Upside Down St. Anthony, by Rolando Briseño. It’s a life-sized plaster sculpture of St. Anthony suspended upside-down, with the Alamo perched on top, balanced on the soles of his sandals. It was a great show, as always. Malena Gonzalez-Cid and her crew never disappoint. Many of my friends are showing their work at this show; there is also several works by artists who I may have never officially met, yet whose careers I’ve followed for years with respect and excitement.

I was surprised to see Ramon Vasquez y Sanchez. Sure, he had a piece at the show. And certainly he’s no stranger to Centro Cultural Aztlan, seeing as he founded this art and cultural center. But last I had heard, he had headed off to Tucson to serve as a keynote speaker for a February 2nd event in Arizona. But–so it seemed–he had managed to return home in time to be part of our San Antonio event.

He told me he had received a standing ovation in Arizona. No surprise there. He’s a very charismatic man. “You’ve still got a pretty big head, I guess?” I asked him with smile. He shrugged and said something about having suffered a bit of difficulty getting through the door.

The events at Centro Cultural Aztlan are always warm and inviting. It’s a big family event, where everyone’s happy you came. If you haven’t been to the opening of a show there, please go next time. You’ll be glad you did.

@@@@@

Wednesday.

I woke up early this morning. It’s cold outside, this means it’s cold inside. Ah this drafty old house. I pulled my laptop into bed with me and caught up on my RSS feeds. I recently exported all my subscriptions from my old reader (an online free service, Alesti.org–it has a nice intuitive interface: but there are hours–even days–when it’s down, for reasons I can never understand). I’m now using Google Reader.

I’m sure I could just use iTunes, but iTunes has fucked me over too many times. iTunes is the most counter intuitive, intrusive, proprietary, parasitic piece of shit ever to come out of the Apple Empire. God, how I despise iTunes!

But I digress. Um, where was I?

Ah, yes, Google Reader. I was intrigued when Todd O’Neill mentioned recently on his Twitter feed how he was having a blast with something called Feedly. This is a magazine-type template that acts like an RSS reader–it also lets you post to your various outlets: blog, social media, email, etc. I’m still a bit confused on how to make it work. However, my cursory research into Feedly, brought me to Google Reader. Now I can say a fond farewell to Alesti.

I did managed to drag my ass out of bed by early afternoon. Well, I had managed to make a pot of coffee and send out a few emails in the morning hours. But by early afternoon I got out of the cold old house. I met up with Deborah. She’s finally moving out of the development phase of her video piece for Luminaria. I’m definitely on board to help her shoot and edit the piece. We’ve come up with our model, location, and we are closing in on a solid schedule of shooting.

(My own Luminaria film is still awaiting my attention. I’ve shot the piece. Beautiful footage. I just need to edit it. And I need to hammer it out before the end of next week. That’s when Seme gets back from teaching a workshop in Ecuador (I do envy her life-style!). We’ll be working on another collaboration for her Luminaria proposal.)

Actually, I’m involved in three Luminaria film / dance projects, each a collaborative endeavor. With one I’m functioning in a crew capacity. Another, I’m providing a video backdrop. And the final one, my own, I’m hoping to bring in a live dancer to accompany my short film.

It’s a good thing I don’t currently have a job. Those fucking things always get in the way. Damn, those jobs, those professions, they sure sound like major time-sucks. However, they do indeed make a quick cure of that malady forever hovering over my head. You know, poverty.

After some discussion over a late lunch concerning Deborah’s Luminaria film, we went to her studio. She was painting the outside of her studio at Blue Star for the upcoming First Friday–it’s just two days away.

Here’s the deal. Deborah Keller-Rihn has some new work. It’s in keeping with her current style of photographs printed in black and white large on canvas and colored with thinned oil paint. As a photographer, her work is powerful and amazing. The added embellishment with her skills as a painter make the final work simply extraordinary. Here’s one of canvases that will be on display Friday at her studio: Keller-Rihn Studio (it’s in the Blue Star Arts Complex, upstairs from Three Walls and Cactus Bra–that’s in the same building where Jump-Start Performance Company is):

Here Deborah is working with a model named Danielle. On one of theses photo shoots Danielle was outside of Deborah’s studio performing a fire dance. On that occasion I happened to be in town and I video-taped this dance. An edit of my shoot was screened at Jump-Start for their 25th Annual Performance Party. I’ll be screening that piece again on a video loop projected onto Deborah’s studio wall this First Friday.

So, come on by.

Deborah was shafted this semester because one of the classes she was planning to teach didn’t make. She’s very very poor this semester. But she has these incredible photo paintings. They are priced to move. Come on by and buy some art, dammit. Deborah has bills to pay! Also, come and watch my video. Really, what are you waiting for? Come and hang out with us!

If you’re not hanging out with Erik and Deborah at Blue Star this Friday, you’d better have a serious excuse! I’m accepting only two reasons. A.) You’re over at C4 Workspace for the art opening of Jesus Morón’s excellent work; or, B.), you’re over at the Guadalupe Cultural Arts Center for CineFestival.

CineFestival is where I hope to be Thursday night. Also, all day Saturday and Sunday. (I’m a bit pissed off that their all-access pass cost 85 bucks! That seems high for a community arts center. I should point out that I’m whining because the previous three years I had the complimentary-all-access-pass because I was a judge. For some reason, my insightfulness as a judge was shrugged off this year. Oh, well….

Any way, these things happen. I’ll happily buy a day pass for both Saturday and Sunday. Friday I’ll be otherwise engaged. And Thursday I’m hoping that the email I received from the San Antonio Film Commission is actually what it seems to be: an invitation to the opening night party. But maybe the party is open to everyone. And that stings, ’cause, you know, I really wanna be special. I’m feeling particularly low tonight, and special would be good….

So, unless you, my reader, are out of town, I guess I’ll be seeing you this weekend. Either at the Guadalupe, or at Deborah’s studio.

See you soon!

Cafe Cinema is back at the Radius Center, downtown San Antonio. The good folks of NALIP, San Antonio (the local chapter of the National Association of Latino Producers, an organization of which I am one of the executive officers) sponsors this screening event. We’d placed it on hiatus while the Radius was working to bring in a new tenant to run their cafe. The place can seat about a hundred people. Friday night it was nice to see some dear friends who I hadn’t been around much for a couple of months. What with the holidays and a stint working in Dallas, I’d fallen out of touch with my fellow NALIPsters. The evening began with a block of Mexican short films which I believe Drew Mayer-Oakes, the San Antonio Film Commissioner, brought back from the Monterrey Film Festival. I arrived a bit late, so I only got to see one and a half. What I saw looked good.

After a slight intermission–when some Texas brand of Vodka was passed around to the unfortunately small crowd–we turned to the feature. “Yveete” (that’s right, not Yvette). I’d seen this wonderful film at last year’s CineFestival. And, to be honest, I’m not sure if I saw it projected on a screen, or at home on TV–I was one of the judges, and I was given screener DVDs as well as opportunities to view the pieces at the venue, the Guadalupe Cultural Arts Center.

The film holds up well to multiple viewings. It’s sweet and bursting with chingos of heart. It starts out slow. The fact that it was shot on DV is a bit off-putting. But once the action shifts from Oklahoma to Mexico, it really kicks into high gear. I think this is because of two reasons. First, low budget films shot on digital video usually look like shit…but if they’re intelligently constructed and have a strong script you eventually move beyond the initial format prejudice, and it becomes just another time-based visual narrative. But there’s the added bump that once we get to Mexico, we’re given this richer visual pallet (because Mexico is a beautiful country); and, also, the protagonist has to deal with a culture alien to her See, we, the audience, now have sudden conflict: and we always respond well to conflict.

The production standers are pretty low; few if any of the actors are professionals; and, though I love the story, the writing isn’t really that strong. But, for a budget ot 10 grand, it’s an impressive piece. Yveete has an emotional honestly that gets under your skin and clutches at your heart no matter how cynical you might be. It was produced by a young couple from Oklahoma. Rogelio Almeida Marquez and Nora Contreras-Almeid. According to IMDB, he’s the director, she’s the writer and main actress (Yveete).

Track it down and give it a watch. If it seems slow at first, wait. You’ll be glad you did. There are two wonderful low budget films I saw in 2009 I want every one to see. “Yveete,” and “Happy Birthday Harry Malden.”

Take a stroll, at times, outside of the mainstream. There’s great stuff out there.

@@@@@

Before heading off to Cafe Cinema, I met Russ at C4 Workspace (where I had been holding down the fort–Todd and Debbie had headed to Austin to attend some sort of co-working summit). Russ and I walked over to Tito’s for some of their renowned enchiladas. Russ brought me up to speed about what’s been going on at the Film School of San Antonio (AKA, the media department at Harlandale high school) since the legendary George Ozuna left. Just another simple San Antonio session of chisme. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. San Antonio doesn’t run on money, political influence, insider pandering, nepotism, or the good ol’ boy network–nope. (Well, there is some of that.) This city’s white-hot inner engine is fueled by good ol’ fashioned grade “A” chisme–and to translate, I’m talking about balloon juice, chin music, you know, the gossip grapevine. Within the San Antonio arts and cultural community I feel confident in boasting that I have a solid 7 rating (out of 10) of knowing what’s going on behind the scenes. And though I don’t always share the particulars of this info, I can say quite freely, most everyone with pull and power in the San Antonio arts world is fucking nuts.

I was at an art opening the other week. My good friend Ramon Vasquez y Sanchez was showing several of his paintings at a group show at the SAVA gallery downtown. I was sipping a fine vintage of boxed wine and standing there with Ramon and Deborah (we three being the core of Proyecto Locos, a sort of ad hoc art collective) when a certain local art curator walked in with his entourage. One of his sycophants, a man of about 50 with wire-frame glasses, a goatee, and turtleneck (he’s what Mel Brooks would get if he requested from Central Casting a “Middle-Aged Sensitive Bohemian circa Beatnik, USA”). This fellow walked up to Ramon and made some comment about how he loved the art scene in San Antonio, because, “all the artists are supportive of one another.” Even though he had not acknowledged me, I thought I’d weigh in. “You gotta be kidding,” I said. “Us artists in San Antonio all hate each other.” The guy shot me a nasty glance, and decided to continue ignoring me. He kept talking with Ramon about this and that. I have to assume Ramon heard my comment, because I saw that sneaky little smile he lets out when a grumpy troublemaker mutters something true.

Many of us do indeed hate one another, but we all still work together. Within the San Antonio creative community there are no real enemies. We’re a family. And in families, one usually tolerates the occasionally hateful relationship. Because you’re all tied together, you do your best to work together for a greater good. Truth be told, I’d say that in the San Antonio art scene it’s not that bad to be hated. Yes, it’s better to be loved. But if folks are hating on you, they’re at least still talking about you. It’s the fucking kiss of death to be ignored…to be seen as inconsequential. Brrr….

@@@@@

When I was very young I used to suffer fairly dramatically from asthma. For the most part, I grew out of it by middle school. There were inhalers, pills, and even, for a while, injections, which my mother would give me. I say it’s over, but actually the asthma still creeps back at times, very mildly. Almost always in the colder winter weather. Add strenuous activity to a cold day, and that’s when it’s most likely to pop up. This is one of the reasons I don’t usually go for long bike rides unless it’s over at least 70 degrees. Early last week I was out biking on the Mission Trail, enjoying a sunny day of maybe 65. There was a strong wind at my back, and even though I was pretty far out of shape, I was moving at a giddy clip; and that’s when this hard-ass on a touring bike zoomed past me. I took the bait (unintended, I’m sure) and shifted up to top gear and matched his speed for maybe two miles. That’s when I felt my bronchial tubes clenching up, and so I fell back.

That feeling’s returned tonight. Nothing strenuous. But it’s getting cold again, and I remembered that the fumes off a burning gas heater can also trigger this damn shortness of breath. I’m burning candles to Ganesha, Santo Niño de Atocha, several Orishas, Quetzalcoatl, and Cthulhu–whatever it takes to speed up the appearance of those sweet 100 degree days of summer.

@@@@@

I basically frittered away an unproductive weekend. Well, I did do laundry. Mostly I was watching bad movies from the NetFlix view now selection. It’d been decades since I’d seen the 1964 film First Men in the Moon. Of course I’d seen it before–it featured stop-motion creatures by Ray Harryhausen. Like most of the sci-fi films from this period it’s a real travesty. I mean, the science in the films of the fifties and sixties is just appalling. At least H. G. Wells was long dead by the time this come out. The Harryhausen effects and the art design in general are fairly groovy. Lionel Jeffries, the eccentric scientist, is a joy to watch. There’s this wonderful scene where’s he’s explaining his plans to the man-of-action character (played fairly flatly by Edward Judd), and the scientist falls back against his space ship, like he’s receiving a lover’s embrace, and he snuggles there, rubbing against his grand machine as he explains the “science” of his anti-gravity paint. There’s also this tiny scene with Peter Finch, who was not credited. According to Wikipedia, he was in the vicinity–perhaps an adjacent sound stage–and when the actor hired for this tiny role failed to show up, he offered his assistance. He’s in the film for maybe thirty seconds, but has quite a few lines. It’s like he’s stepped in from another movie (which isn’t far from the fact)–but he manages to be rather cartoonish, in keeping with the film’s tone, and chewing the scenery like a terrier gnawing on a rubber band. I wouldn’t recommend this film to many people, but it’s a fun way to piddle away a chunk of a chilly Saturday.

There have been little clusters of creative activity in my life. Often during these periods colleagues in the local film community will invariably ask me, “hey, where have you been–I never seem to see you any more?” On these occasions I really need to turn the tables. “I got stuff screening all over town–where have YOU been?”

The month’s not over yet, and I have shot, edited, and screened (for paying audiences, mind you) two short film projects. All I can say is, I wish more members of the local film community would have been in the audiences, showing their support. I saw painters, dancers, musicians, actors, writers, arts administrators, but, filmmakers? Not so much.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not crowing about my prodigious productivity– I’m just needling all those San Antonio filmmakers who I so rarely see at art events. The fact is, both of these recently produced projects of mine found their way to me with no heavy lifting on my part. The first, an abstract piece of a beautiful young fire dancer, came into being because ST Shimi, the artistic director at Jump-Start Performance Company, asked if I had a short video piece I would like to have screened for the 25th annual Jump-Start Performance Party. What a high honor! I decided to cut together the footage I took of a photo shoot Deborah Keller-Rihn recently held outside her studio with a model she had recently met who is also a fire dancer.

The second project also came calling on me. When recent transplant Seme Jatib (an extraordinary dancer from Monterrey) asked around the San Antonio dance community if anyone knew of a filmmaker she could collaborate with, Amber Ortega-Perez mentioned my name. I met with Seme in a Starbucks in the Quarry, and two weeks later we had a show at the first W-I-P of 2010. W-I-P (Works in Progress) is the monthly event sponsored by the Jump-Start Performance Company and the San Antonio Dance Umbrella and held at Jump-Start. ST Shimi and Amber Ortega-Perez co-curate the series. Last night was a particularly strong show. There were three performances.

The opening was a dance piece with three performers choreographed by Maggie Lasher. I really like the high metaphoric tone of the piece. It was a conceptual modern dance piece featuring, as a prop, a bizarre giant fiberglass industrial ball (Maggie’s husband, who scavenged the piece, believes it’s a jacuzzi filter).

The second performance was by Laurie Dietrich. She’s a company member with Jump-Start–writer, actor, director, etc. She presented a solo performance art piece. Melissa Marlowe, one of San Antonio’s more gifted actors, was sitting across the aisle from me, and she was praising Laurie’s thespian chops. Well, no shit. Not only was Laurie completely on top of the piece as a performer, but the work itself, her script, is tight, clever, and structurally solid. I loved this piece! Hopefully, she’ll expand it and we’ll all get to see a polished staging of the work soon.

The final piece was Seme. I’d been in the theater earlier for a short rehearsal. Billy Muñoz was controlling the tech. I knew that when I handed off the DVD to him, it’d be in good hands. If there were any glitches in what I provided, he’d be on top of things. I might add that he did a fantastic job (as always) with the lighting. Anyway, after a couple of run-throughs, I left Seme and her mom and went upstairs to kill some time with Deborah in her studio. By the time of the show, Deborah and I walked down to get our tickets. I was pleasantly surprised to see that my name was in the program, alongside Seme’s. The projection played smooth. We had planned to use the Jump-Start’s eight foot screen, but in the rehearsal, the projection on the rear black wall looked so cool, that we decided to go with it. I’m glad we did. It brought the projection down lower so that Seme could interact with the projected words and images. I was amazed by her performance. Sure, I’d seen her do the basic choreography on three (or was it four?) occasions, but I’d never really seen her pull out all the stops. I’ve worked on film projects with over a dozen dancers, and the process is fascinating–well, for someone like me with no real dance background. They often run through the choreographic phrases in basic, not so strenuous, abbreviated gestures. And this is what I had seen from Seme in the two weeks we’ve known each other. But tonight, I got to see the energy and emotional impact of the piece. Also, it was great to watch her make certain changes which occurred to her while she was in the moment. A good dancer is like a good actor. It’s all about making a choice–you can’t waffle. No. You decide, and you do it. I knew going in that Seme is an extraordinary dancer, but it wasn’t until I watched the emotion crossing her face during the pivotal point near the end that I truly realized how lucky San Antonio is to have a dancer of her caliber…and how privileged I was to be able to work with her on a project. I can only hope we will continue to work together. The applause following the piece was long, robust, and honest. And, afterward, for the critical response portion, Shimi came out and asked if I, as the video-provider, might want to come up on stage. Seme said, without a beat, “Erik, yes.” I believe she was a bit nervous, and wanted some moral support. She shouldn’t be. She’s very articulate.

Even though I had told Deborah I wasn’t going to bother getting up on stage even if asked, I went ahead. I used to be terrified of public speaking. Honestly. But in my twenties I was forced, in several creative writing classes, to not only read my work aloud, but to defend it from the jibes of fellow students. This was, however, the first time I was seated on a theater stage with bright lights on me. Damned if I could see who was asking me or Seme questions. They were just shadowy forms back behind the bright lights.

It was a great night. Even though there were probably not more than 40 people in the audience, it was the strongest and most positive response to any work of which I’ve been involved. I should point out that most of the applause was directed at Seme. As Dino Foxx said of another beautiful, extraordinarily fit, and awesomely talented dancer, ST Shimi: “I see you so often that sometimes I forget just how sexy you are.” At the risk of over-simplifying my artistic impulse, the reason that I, as well as my friends Russ and Deborah, like to photograph and video-tape dancers is that we love to see beautiful bodies in motion. But there’s also the fact that I’m about as graceful as an arthritic walrus, and, with clever and judicious use of camera placement and movement, and with canny editing, I can, in a limited manner, join the performance, allowing the camera to enter into the choreography. I still have a lot to learn here, but it’s a very rewarding collaborative interdisciplinary realm in which to work.

Keep an eye out for further performances by Seme Jatib. It’ll be worth your while. We’re planning a collaborative event for Luminaria. Make sure to come to the dance stage at Luminaria. It’ll be in HemisFair Park, next to the Instituto Cultural De Mexico. Not only will there be plenty of dance presentations, but there will be several videos projected. I’ll have a short dance video featuring ST Shimi (hopefully she’ll be dancing on the stage in front of the projection). My good friend Deborah Keller-Rihn will have a projected dance-related piece. And, finally, Seme Jatib will dance a piece titled “Echo.” The plan is for me to provide video augmentation.

Let’s hope video and dance come together in a serious and lasting relationship in San Antonio. When done right, it works very well. And, tonight, I think my crude and novice work in this field rather new to me showed some promise. Working with Seme is wonderful. I find her very inspiring. Deborah’s still my favorite artistic collaborator, probably because we’re so similar in character. But with Seme, the fact that we have different sensibilities creates its own rewards.

Last night I got to meet some of Seme’s family. Her mother drove in from Monterrey for the performance. And also I finally got to meet Seme’s husband (who she’s always referred to as “my husband.”) Nice guy, and it takes me forever to learn a name, but I think he’s Kevin. Also I got to meet one of Seme’s friends, also named Erik–and by that, I mean Eric. He’s a yoga instructor she works with. Anyway, this guy, Eric Miller, video-taped the performance on what I think might have been a flip camera. Recently he uploaded it to YouTube. Here’s the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h892BiSQ9eY

I’ve just set up a Vimeo account. Here’s a link to the edited video projection I provided. (If you watch this, make sure to see Eric Miller’s link above–his video will give you a sense of the heavy emotional palette with which Seme works.):

@@@@@

Yesterday morning I was up at the ungodly hour of 7:30. After a shower (and I still haven’t fixed my water heater) I headed over to C4. Debbie was shocked to see me. Yeah, I’m not a morning person. I was there to meet Jim Dawes. I know JIm because he runs the Final Monday Free Writers Workshop at Gemini Ink. But until recently I never knew Jim taught architecture over at the downtown campus of UTSA.

Anyway, one of his classes had chosen, as a project, to design a “film institute.” This isn’t the real deal–simply an academic exercise. Too bad, there. What they’re working on would be wonderful…you know, if only….. Because of my status as a filmmaker, occasional teacher, and festival producer, Jim thought I’d be the perfect person to come and talk to his class. (Though the fact is, I was probably the only guy who came close to fitting the parameters yet who was also available. And unless I’m out of town, I’m pretty much always available.)

It was a lot of fun. There were only four students. They were young, smart, articulate, and full of extraordinary potential. In short–they’re adorable. And, well, I hope they find their way into major architectural, design, or engineering firms: the bottom line is I like them and I hope they are instrumental in building our future.

@@@@@

We can’t always be in the loop. Today I had to learn from fucking FaceBook this key piece of San Antonio film news: the great Sam Lerma is taking over George Ozuna’s old gig at the Film School of San Antonio, aka, the media department at Harlandale High School. Now Sam can dine at a finer level of taqueria, because I’m sure that there must be a serious pay hike. I was shocked when I discovered how poorly paid are news photographers (meaning video shooters). Congratulations, Sam! I’m sure the kids on the south-side will benefit immensely from your professionalism and creativity!

My creative process, such as it is, is a fucking mess. Maybe one of the reasons I always sabotaged myself in math classes in school is that when I’m asked to show my work, it’s a mess. There are scribbled notes with weird abbreviations and hieroglyphs, mostly known just to me, and many known just to me at that very moment. Showing my work means nothing to other people. It’s completely indecipherable. My right brain and left brain are barely on speaking terms–never have been. And the manner in which they communicate is choppy, guttural, and generally near incomprehensible.

Everyone seems to have their own method to turn raw and abstract sensory input and cognitive impulse into a play or a etching, a sonnet or a dirge. Because most artists work alone, all we tend to see is the finished work. I know a few artists whose processes I’ve observed, and of those, most are filmmakers. This is one of the reasons I like to collaborate. Especially with artists from other disciplines. I’m essentially a voyeur. Really, I just want to pop the hood and take a peek at it all. One of my best friends, Deborah, is principally a photographer, though she’s worked in painting, sculpture, film, etc. At first working with her was rather frustrating. She kept changing her mind about this project or that. And then I realized that her process really wasn’t so different than mine. A lot of false starts and floundering around. Hours spent drinking coffee, doing anything but the work itself, and suddenly, it all falls together. Yeah, that makes perfect sense to me.

I’ve also had the good luck to work with several dancers. Russ pulled me into this world, and it’s quite rewarding. Who wouldn’t want to photograph beautiful bodies in motion? The current project is with Seme Jatib. We hope to pursue a fruitful collaboration with her choreography and dancing, and my live, real time video projection. This is all new to me. I’m leaning into the learning curve. But until we get to that point, we’re working on a project for the upcoming W-I-P (works in progress) that Shimi and Amber put on every month at the Jump-Start Performance Company over at Blue Star. I’m currently (well, I’m blogging right now) cutting a 6ish minute piece of video which will serve as a single channel pre-recorded presentation, and Seme will dance. One of the things I learned from working with Amber is that modern dance isn’t so locked down and predictable as some other forms of dance. If a nuanced move of another dancer opens up the possibility for an embellishment, it might just happen. A sort of impromptu choreographic riff. In fact, when you listen to those masters of mid-period hard bebop, like Horace Silver and Clifford Brown, it’s clear that the basic structure and phrases were all worked out. But there was room for narrow improvisation. And so, with Seme, I’m reworking my approach every few days. I’m sniffing around, trying this, trying that. And now, basically because I need to get a DVD to her by Wednesday, it’s all coming together. The trick is to find ways to convey the essence of the piece with the footage I’ve shot, as well as the text and effects I’m currently generating. I’m beginning to realize why she’s so keen on working with a video artist using VJ software–real-time projected video manipulation is made to order for modern dance.

The show is Wednesday, January 27th. Just head on out to the best theater in town, Jump-Start Performance Company–it’s in the Blue Start Art Complex, off S. Alamo in King William. 7pm. It’s only 5 bucks! Other than Seme Jatib (with humble assist by yours truly) you will also see works in progress by Maggie Lasher and Laurie Dietrich. See you there.

This is Seme:

And this is where I am right now at my edit.

Yeow! I’m thinking another seven hours of work…for this six minute piece. So, you see. Even when the process has been clarified, the long tedium of the work really ain’t for the weak of heart.

So, back to work!

I really should be working on the video backdrop for Seme’s dance piece this coming Wednesday at Jump-Start, but, really, I am the king of procrastination. Well, actually, I’m not completely useless. I’ve put in a good three hours tonight. Get back to it tomorrow.

Ah, but today–a fine San Antonio Saturday in January. Finally, a reasonable day. Pleasant, warm even. This is what I expect from winter in South Texas. The iPhone promised 78 today, but I doubt it ever got over 73. There was a big wind in from the north, bringing all that cold down from the arctic realms of Wichita Falls and Anadarko. The wind served me well on my bike ride this afternoon. I was flying. Could have gone all the way to Laredo. But, I had to turn around and pedal back–slowly and gruelingly….

But, really, the bottom line is that out at Mission Espada I was flopped out on the grass, just above the river, basking in the sun. How wonderful!

Last night I was meeting with Seme at C4. As we were winding down, Anglea from Slab Cinema stopped by. She wanted some help with a quick video edit. After saying goodbye to Seme, I checked out the video job. It seemed absolutely simple and doable … but there were a few weird things in the codec of the video file. My antiquated version of Final Cut was faltering. I hate to confess this, but I turned to iMovie to get the job done. And it got the job done. iMovie is a quirky little program that, at times, can do amazing things.

Angela invited me to meet some of her friends over at the Friendly Spot, that outdoor bar and eatery adjacent to Tito’s on South Alamo. René Guerrero of Madhatters fame is running the place. Everyone seems to love René–and why not? He’s the best! The Friendly Spot has a playground, so it’s popular with families with kids–such as Angela and Rick, who were so kind to buy me a couple of beers. This couple seem to know everyone in our neighbor. I thought I was connected. Nope. I’m a novice in the King William / South Town networking realm.

I was bemused and charmed to see that René had a large selection of ponchos and blankets so patrons could bundle up and keep warm while sitting outside and dining and drinking and keeping an eye on their kids. But, really, it was a fairly mild night. I had a nice time meeting some new people.

Tonight I met Rick and Angela again. Deborah and I attended a site-specific performance produced by Jump-Start Performance Company. Basically it was a one-woman show starring ST Shimi, staged at her home. She’s married to the artist Oscar Alvarado, and their next-door neighbors are Rick and Angela Martinez, of Slab Cinema–and Rick and Angela were also in attendance tonight. San Antonio is essentially a small town.

The piece was mildly avant garde. Very watchable. All in all, a top notch production. Small and intimate. The audience was about 15. A cozy group of people and a bittersweet (actually more sweet than bitter) voyeuristic experience.

One of the great strengths of Jump-Start is that they’re a family. To see the company members together and interacting is a wonderful thing. They are all good people doing extraordinary work. Twenty-five years, and still going strong. Wow!

When Shimi asked me back in December if I had some video to provide for the annual Jump Start anniversary party (which I always attend), I had to say, Yes! I’m huge fan of so many company members (as well as the fringe folks): such as Steve Bailey, Monessa Esquivel, Annela Spector, ST Shimi, Billy Muñoz, Dino Foxx, Max Parrilla, Micheal Verdi, and add the amazing Amber Ortega-Perez, the sublime Daniel Jackson, and the entirety of the Renaissance Guild (who have moved on to the Little Carver–we all wish them well). Damn, that’s a shit-load of goodness, eh? And for me to be asked to add my creative voice to this chorus…well, fuck yeah!

Oh, shit. How did it get to be three in the morning? I gotta hit the sheets. There’s still a lot of video editing on the morning…..

A warm snap. You gotta love it. It’s pushing midnight. I’ve my transom window open, wearing shorts and sandals. I was over at C4 Workspace earlier this evening–it’s nice to have access to a place I can use as an impromptu studio. I recreated the lighting and backdrop set-up of Monday’s shoot, but a bit in miniature. It was just me, two lamps, a black backdrop, a fan, a white shirt on a fake clothes line, and an electric fan. Not too exciting, but all I needed shot tonight was six minutes of a shirt billowing. It’s gonna be tossed into my current project.

Earlier in the evening I went with Deborah to the Alamo Exhibit at the downtown gallery of SAVA (San Antonio Visual Artists). About half of the works were by my friend Ramon Vasquez y Sanchez. He’s done quite a few paintings pertaining to the Alamo, as well as the other regional missions, mostly in an historical context. There were works of his both old and new.

Here’s a photo of Ramon with one the paintings from the show.

And here’s a photo I took of him with a mannequin back in December.

Oh, and here’s a piece he did that arrived in my email box as a digital Christmas card. I really like this piece.

The SAVA Gallery is a small place. But the place never got too crowded, because people came and went during the show. I saw a lot of familiar faces, and also got to meet some new people.

I’m glad Deborah called me up and dragged me out of the house. It was a beautiful day, but I mostly pissed it away reading and watching movies online.

Yesterday was a Luminaria Steering Committee meeting over at the Southwest School of Art and Craft. The big cheese over there, Paula Owens, has mentioned a parking-lot in the past, but I still don’t know where it is, so whenever I make an appearance at the Southwest School, I park at the downtown library. The parking garage is free for the first hour if you get your ticket validated in the library. Since I arrived early, I went into the library and checked out a book. I chose a Jules Verne omnibus. Now I know I bought a few Verne novels as a tyke from the Scholastic catalogue, but I can’t remember anything abut them. I’m fairly certain I read Mysterious Island and 20,000 Leagues, but I’ve also seen various movie adaptions. Anyway, when in Dallas, at my auction gig, I’ve had to research some first editions of Verne; and thus I’ve become quite interested in his publishing career, especially the relationship between him and his publisher Pierre-Jules Hetzel (if you ever get a chance to examine one of the original Hetzel illustrated editions of Verne, you’ll begin to understand how the popular readership ate this stuff up).

I’ve been reading From the Earth to the Moon, and am pleasantly surprised. There’s a kooky sense of humor I wasn’t expecting. And the science appears absolutely up to date.

The movie I watched today was Grey Gardens. I don’t know why I never heard of it. My sister, some months back, brought it up. She said I needed to see it. She was, of course, right. It’s incredible. Documentary film-making brothers Albert and David Maysles shot and produced it, with a release date of 1976. It’s an unflinching look at two women, mother and daughter, both named Edith. They live in a crumbling mansion in East Hampton. The house has fallen into squalor–their once substantial fortunes have been reduced to near poverty. These two aging upper class bohemians, reclusive and out of touch with the world, spend their days feeding an army of cats roaming freely through the mansion, as well as an extended family of raccoons living in the attic. Big Edie was a minor figure in the entertainment world, occasionally singing on stage in the nineteen teens. Little Edie attempted to work her way into a dance career in the thirties, but with no more success than her mother. The film is full of moments where these crazy cat women might slip into impromptu song or dance or poetry recitation. They are both fucking nuts, but there is something appealing about them. They have never lost their innocence. Check it out. It’s a solid documentary, and not near as squirmy and depressing as one would expect considering the subject matter.

Yikes! I started to type and was blindsided by a funky font I was using for another project. SF Digital Readout. In 72 point. The shock was compounded by the fact that tonight, once again, I’m using my new video projector to shoot the image of my monitor on my wall at 96 inches. At least I had stopped with that magenta font color or I might be flopping on the floor, blindly scrambling for my cell phone and 911.

I wimped out and didn’t make it to the MLK march over on the east-side on Monday. Fact is, I didn’t drag my carcass out of the house until well after noon.

Instead, I spent the morning sipping coffee and dicking around on the internet. I’ve been duly impressed by the clarity of picture I can got off my projector when watching Hulu and Netflix on my computer off my cable modem via wi-fi. I found myself wondering if the servers on free video hosting sites can handle such clean and lush transfer rates with all their user provided content. And so I cruised over to Vimeo–they’ve always been about quality of picture. Impressive! I actually got swallowed up watching a run of randomly selected pieces which I splashed on my wall. Here’s a cool interactive projected art piece from, I believe, New Zealand:

http://www.vimeo.com/8525186

There’s a brilliance, I think, in the simplicity of that piece. The concept of allowing members of the audience to be a central part of the performance is certainly nothing new, but it’s the execution of this piece which I find so liberating. As I watched this, I came up with an interesting idea for an interactive dance piece on a smaller scale which I think I could pull off with the help of a few friends.

The bottom line is that when you own a 3000 lumen video projector, everything seems to be a potential canvas. The other day I was trying to get to the grocery store, but as I was on the south-side, I had to deal with the trains. I was waiting for one to pass on S. Flores near Gallista Gallery. It then occurred to me that this was a fascinating moving canvas, with surface colors, textures, and shapes constantly changing. I’m now suddenly keen on creating a projection work near a train track. Gallista. La Tuna. Sunset Station. Just get me a dependable train schedule, and I’ll be there.

I don’t know why the folks behind the San Antonio Contemporary Arts Month changed the time from July to March, but they’re morons. I mean, what a wonderful time of the year to embrace contemporary art–the dead of summer. In the past there were so many extraordinary outdoor events at night. The summer. The fucking summer. Hell, yeah! You put these things on in March, and folks will be cold, and probably wet. I could say something similar about Luminaria, but no one’s listening to my opinion.

@@@@@

Early Monday evening I was at C4 with Seme. I wanted some tight shots of her choreography on video for the projection next week at Jump-Start. My plan was to hang some black drapery from a couple of C stands to give a neutral backdrop. Todd saw me doing this, and came to my rescue with some equipment that proved more appropriate. For the lighting, I ran a bell light up on a C stand. It pointed down–a 200 watt bulb, frosted and gelled green. Deborah showed up with this badass 1K light we had used when shooting Danielle doing her fire dancing back in December. I made some vague suggestion that she place it at a right angle to Seme and run it up rather high. She did something like that, didn’t care for it, and dropped the lamp down to about four feet off the floor, and pulled it in a bit to soften the angle. Perfect! What I was wanting to do was to, as simply as possible, emulate the style of theatrical lighting. The fact is, I like working with one or two lights so as to generate loads of shadows. I think between me and Deborah we achieved a nice set-up. I took just a few still images. But I think this one kicks ass:

I hope Seme doesn’t mind. The video we’d been shooting was very close. Mostly images of her hands. I think she wasn’t prepared for shots of her face. Personally, I think she looks great. I was shooting the stills with my GH-1 with a Nikkor 50mm lens, probably open all the way. I’m a bit squeamish here because the image is slightly out of focus. This might have been a situation where I would have benefited from the automatic lens that came with the camera.

But I digress. Come on out and see Seme Jatib’s performance. There will be some video by yours truly. Wednesday Jan. 27. I believe it starts at 7pm. Get the info at the Jump-Start website. It only costs 5 bucks. Also, there will be works in progress by two other performers, Maggie Lasher and Laurie Dietrich.

Yep. That’s where you need to be next Wednesday. Jump-Start.

And don’t forget, this weekend is the first of a four-part site-specific performance cycle, collectively called Request Concert. The first offering is from the incredible S.T. Shimi (dancer, actor, writer, administrator, and from what I understand, a damn fine chef). I’m planning to book my ticket, maybe tomorrow. They’re limited, so order NOW–I hope I’m not too late.