Saturday, December 28, 2002|
HERB RITTS
There have been many things I've wanted to talk about but the death of Herb Ritts is the one that has weighed heaviest on me. Death is always sudden, it never comes slowly despite what people may imagine. One is breathing and animated and then suddenly one is not. News articles have given his cause of death as pneumonia which is - given our day and age, his open sexuality, his youthfulness - a tragic euphemism for AIDS. During the early nineties, before the advent of Protease Inhibitors and when Gay Men seemed to be expiring everywhere one looked, my late friend Gary and I would read the obituaries in the NYTimes, scanning for signals as to what we thought the "Real Cause" of death was for many men. Their age, their relationships and the explanation being as vague as cancer or pneumonia were usually clear clues. At the risk of accusations of being a Name Dropper, I've been recollecting my personal contacts with Herb Ritts, not to elevate my own situations but in an effort to understand how randomly life bestows gifts and consequently how randomly death robs us as well. In the mid-eighties, I began working as a Clothing Stylist with a photographer in NYC who was also beginning his career in photography. Paul had formally been a model and quite a famous one. He was one of the first male models to gain recognition despite being under 5'10" and was on the cover of GQ magazine over seven times. When we began working together, I had only been in New York for a couple of years, I was in my mid-twenties and considered my connection with him extremely lucky. Paul was close friends with the designer Stephen Sprouse and one of the first gigs we got was taking pictures for Stephen's clothing line which was a Big Deal. Stephen was infatuated with Andy Warhol (who was still alive at the time) and his showroom where I'd get clothes was Warhol's old Factory, the walls still covered in silver metallic paint. Paul was also quite a socialite, and being young and adventursesome and anxious to be a part of NYC, I willingly became part of his Gang or Entourage or whatever you would call it. The Club of Choice at the time was called Area and we would frequently go three or four times a week, always Comped and someone was always handing out drink tickets. One night before we went, Paul said to meet him at an Photo Exhibition Opening in which his Girlfriend was appearing. She was a sweet girl and seemed rather infatuated with Paul in the way young models are with photographers and although I was vaguely familiar with her and the Exhibition's Artist, I did not know either very well. Her name was Christy Turlington and the Photographer was Herb Ritts. The Opening was packed and in just a few years would have been an Event covered by E! Television or any media outlet equally obsessed with Fashion and Fame. This was before "SuperModels" and before all of America knew the names of the people who made the clothes they coveted, the names of the models who wore the same clothes and the names of the photographers who carved out their image. Ritts had the luxury of being able to take pictures of men and women who in a few years would no longer be mere faces but become fetishized and lose the ability to pose free of preconception. I didn't meet Herb at the opening but I remember looking over a picture of Naomi Campbell while Naomi was looking over my shoulder at me looking at the pictures of her and frankly I thought they were ravishing fashion pictures but were they art? Years later I forged a name for myself and worked with a number of famous photographers as a Stylist. I got a job replacing a Stylist who cancelled at the last minute, the job was Lancome with Herb Ritts photographing Isabella Rosellini. I flew to California and while the clothes were not the focus, I was impressed with how Herb involved himself in all aspects. Like other well-known photographers I'd worked with, he expected the best and a sense of luxury that permeated both Pictures and Subject making you feel like you were part of a Beautiful Thing. He was professional, very polite and while I wish I could say the whole thing was a Wild Adventure, the truth is it was work. We all did our job, we all got paid and in the end we all got great pictures.
I'm still on the fence about whether his pictures are Art. They're certainly seductive, they're quite glamourous and they're often erotic in a very tasteful way. In my opinion, Art is a Mindfuck and while I admire the beauty of Ritts' photos and the subjects he's captured, I feel more teased then having gotten Really Laid. That's Me and irregardless, the world is certainly an emptier and less tolerable place now that he's gone. |
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THE BLOG SONG
"i've got a new website look, |
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MORE ABOUT CHANGING Well things are moving along here. I'm digging the new look - it's about clean, it's about being direct, it's about the New Year. Two things I can't figure out and maybe some of you Superstars out there can help: 1. Why isn't it formatting like my old blog with the calender and links list on the right? 2. Those fucking comments. I'm using Haloscan again and (like last time) am having trouble again! AAAGHH!! You'd think I'd have learned. After all, big deal last time, it wasn't even that long ago, I actually have an education. Nope. No clue. Clueless. WTF?
Well soon it will work. After all, I still have the infamous Stare and Click technique left. |
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CHANGING Well if you've been wondering where I've been (or even if you haven't), what's been happening is I switched my Radio App to Mac OSX which had turned into a Trauma. Now, however, things finally seem to be back in line for the most part. I lost some info and will have to redo my template which was funny cause I'd been talking about doing that anyway. The Powers that Be have a very dry sense of humor. I've really missed posting - alot - and have alot to say about alot of things (surprise, surprise). Look forward to a groovin new image here and some new ideas and thanks for being patient.
xxx - hugh |
Last update: 6/3/08; 11:25:10 PM .
