Looking Ahead...

In the immediate future, things don't look all that great here in San Francisco, photographically (and otherwise). Downtown, a once hustling, bustling metropolis is now a veritable ghost town- not conducive to photo ops, and apocalyptic street scenes have long grown tired post Covid. Protests have dried up and it ain't always easy executing 'alternative' photo projects. Fortunately, SF does have biannual leather fairs, Bay to Breakers (an annual bacchanalian foot race and costume fest- don't ask), Hunky Jesus (Easter) and Fleet Week. But even those can hardly fulfill a year's worth of shooting. It just looks like it's gonna be real slim pickings next coupla years.

And two years hence, at seventy, I plan on (hopefully) retiring, and unless some phenomenally phenomenal phenomena occurs to make things more livable here, financially (and otherwise), it's on to... I don't have the slightest! I'm a city boy. And walkable, affordable cities in the good ol' USA are pretty much non-existent.

All Photos: © Stan Banos

Folsom St. Leather Fair

9/24/2023

End Of A Short Lived Era

An hour and a half at a time...   Photo: © Stan Banos

This photo was taken directly across the saloon I've come to call home now for a year. And when I say home, I'm talking an hour and a half a week on an early Friday evening, enough to down three pints, approx one per half hour- which borderline breaches my personal barrier for waking up the following morning in good humor.  

San Francisco was rife with old neighborhood dives and has still managed to retain a few in these days of $8 pints and wretched sports bars. I would frequently make note of them, promising to return for a drink one spare evening, promises never consummated. This is one which I actually entered one long ago weekend afternoon (probably during yet another unsuccessful photo walk); the vibe was right, the people were friendly, and I was happy to have a beer amongst the crowd, and depart- pity it wasn't in my neighborhood! 

When The Wife and I separated, there I was, but two blocks away- but it was the height of Covid, and boarded up tight... didn't seem it would ever open again. When this picture was taken, the protective paneling had just come down, and I saw a sign being posted on windows made visible once again. The guy invited me to come over and check it out sometime- he needn't have asked. The name of the bar is The Utah Inn. 

Now, Stefano (the sign posting bartender) was totally cool, I actually got by-backs (first time in decades!) on a coupla beers! From the rough and tumble part of a rough and tumble town outside San Francisco, he was nevertheless, always welcoming- but if you said the wrong thing, rubbed him the wrong way, you'd get one very sober look and the frivolity would quickly dissipate. Fortunately, we were fairly copasetic, I understood the general parameters; we weren't best of friends, we were chill is all, and he had a job to do. I was just happy being a cool (uh-huh) old guy at the bar, happy just to hang in a relaxed, judge free zone after a week of work, and have my mood adjusted accordingly for a pleasant if uneventful ninety minutes... And god forbid you should ever motion or call out for a beer- you were done for the evening! I would silently smile to myself witnessing various people wander in off the street and wonder why they were waiting endlessly...  

That was pretty much my 'social life,' not a helluva lot, granted- but how I treasured that hour and a half! Two weeks ago, just after I had left, the new manager (of one whole week) told Stefano that he should clock himself out since things were slow that night. Predictably, he wasn't having it, besides, the (SF Giants) game was soon to let out and the place would be quickly packed- as it soon was... but the damage was done.

Bottomline, he was right, and he was gone- and so it looks am I...

Let's Say...

 That maybe (just maybe) it's all true...

Black And White And Color

Went to see Matt Black's photographs at the Robert Koch Gallery. All save for one photo consisted of his vintage B&W analog. The prints were magnificent! I stood there thinking how lucky I was to have belonged to this club, to have personally experienced the particular medium as both viewer and practitioner, to have produced (at least technically) somewhat similar work (albeit on a considerably lower level). The nostalgia was palpable. 

Thought I could conjure up something profound to say as to the differences between B&W analog and (digital) color, insights into their individual strengths and processes- and came up with a plethora paucity of... the usual. While comforting and reassuring to know I still appreciated a great B&W print as much as ever, I felt no distinct urge to return, even though I never pictured myself ever departing- it was home, familiar and capable of great beauty, humor or drama. And yet, leave it I did, and I've more than tripled my output since 2016, compared to 4 decades of B&W when I looked more intently at other people's work than actually produce it (not that I didn't want to). And a lot of the work I looked at was color, I could appreciate both mediums equally even though I only practiced one- and it enabled me to hit the ground running when I switched. And still am; at 2 years, 2 months till seventy and peak Social Security (and supposed retirement)... the clock is ticking- loudly!

Photo: © Stan Banos

2/3's Year in Review

Very decent, very economical 11in work prints!

Yeah, a tad early for a year in review post, hence the title. Didn't get to travel much this year except back home to NY, but have still managed a few keepers (with a couple more hopefully to come). Recently though, got kinda depressed that I would never be able to afford even a quarter of the images I'd like to have printed- and then it finally dawned on me... follow my own freakin' oft repeated advice and print all my landscape oriented keepers vertically in a series of 11in Blurb zines- dirt cheap, decently printed work prints for posterity. Not the ideal solution for having your own personal plethora of exhibition quality prints ready to hang on moment's notice at MOMA, but a half decent workaround for anyone on a poor man's budget. So that'll be an ongoing project commencing this winter. 

This Labor Day weekend I got busy reediting my Windows On The Bay project, it was a bit on the thin side when I initially released it unto the world in a semi-manic period of frenzied activity, but the added time has allowed me to round off the project with more images that help fill out the narrative some- so it no longer looks like a work in progress!

And speaking of more images, added about a dozen more recent shots to the color section of my website last weekend, reaching my current subscription limit. Finally, since I'm certainly not getting any younger, I'm gonna send a few of my book projects to a few indie book publishers. A lot of 'em take pdf's- not a problem via Blurb! Yeah, I gotta .004% chance of being accepted by any one of 'em, but- what the hey, something to do till MOMA and Gerhard come a callin'...

Fade To...

Photo: © Stan Banos

He made for such a very singular looking fellow upon first seeing, looking out so intently upon the bay. And then I would see him again, and again and again- always at the same place with the same attire in the same manner, the orange a bit more faded than last...

For The Love Of Movies

I love 50's B&W film noir, the whole nether world of dames and gams (legs of the former), peepers (private dicks) and screws (prison guards). Ninety percent of the TV I watch is easily from 2 channels, PBS and a local channel that shows film noir on Thursday nights. Problem is, there's only so many of those celluloid wonders- and they sure don't make 'em like that no more... 

Somehow, I read up on a movie called Dragged Across Concrete (currently streaming on Netflix). I was going to embed the official trailer, but it makes it look like a dumb ass, Grade B, cop buddy, action movie. And it gets worse, it also has... Mel Gibson, yeah, the one and only, as if there's any other. And sure enough he's accused of abusing a suspect and proceeds to whine. So I'm about to put an end to it early on when I say to my self- why would Michael Jai White be in a movie that okays police abuse? The same reaction I had when I first heard Bill Burr- oh great, another middle aged White guy yelling and complaining. No, thanks. So why were there videos of Black guys laughing uproariously at his standup? So I watched on... 

Gibson mercifully under acts and has good chemistry with costar Vince Vaughn. And rather than simply going into reactionary Dirty Harry territory, it gives a pretty contemplative reflection on race, politics and the trials and tribulations of life in general. There's some serious violence for sure, but action movie it is not. If you liked A Simple Plan and American Animals where easy-peasey rapidly cascades into all hell breaks loose, chances are you'll appreciate this particular tale of woe and topsy turvy happenstance.

While I'm at it, wanted to see Oppenheimer recently, got online to get my seat (forget first come/first serve at your local googleplex these days) and was absolutely gobsmacked at the prices for a simple goddamn movie at your local movie theater- $25 and a $2.50 service fee! $27.50 for a goddamn movie!?! Ya gotta be shittin' me...

Fortunately, I was able to see it for $12 at one of the few (very few) remaining smaller, movie theaters in town. How does Hollywood expect to revive a movie going public at $25+ a pop?!?