This weeks image contributor Matthew Genitempo is part of Austin based creative collective Public School. Check out their store where you can find a generous helping of original screen printed posters they’ve made for bands you are probably a fan of. I don’t really have much more to say on this subject other than I really like Austin and I really like art and design and Public School merges these things in a way that makes me pump my fist something fierce. Well done, fellas.
Archive for the ‘photography’ Category
Before we started work on this upcoming issue, Annalemma sponsored a photo show in Orlando featuring all Floridian photographers, where I was introduced to Ted Hollins, a photographer who’s been documenting the Zora Neale Hurston Festival of the Arts and Humanities for 21 years. The ZORA festival takes place every January in Eatonville, a town six miles north of Orlando, where Zora Neale Hurston grew up. I hadn’t actually read any Zora when I grew up in Florida. Eatonville is a predominantly black community and I grew up deeply entrenched in an affluent white community. I remember seeing banners and signs with the word ZORA! scattered along the outskirts of Eatonville around that time of year but I had no idea what the word meant or what it was advertising. It wasn’t until college that I read Their Eyes Were Watching God and a number of her short stories, effectively falling in love with the writing. It was an intense shift in my perception to see mention of the outlying cities and places where I grew up, but through the lens of young black woman in a poor community.
When it came time to choose the featured artist for Issue Seven: Endurance, Jen O’Malley (our graphic designer and curator of the previously mentioned photo show) and I started talking about Ted. It seemed like a perfect fit: Ted’s been documenting the endurance of Eatonville, a community that’s successfully battled with Orange County officials against encroaching development and gentrification, a community that inspired a titan of literature who went on to inspire a generation of writers. I also thought it would be a cool idea to reprint one of her stories in order to give a more full portrait to those ignorant of her work and influence like I once was. So I called up HarperCollins and asked for the rights to reprint “Sweat”, a story about a woman enduring the torments of an abusive husband, and what that abuse ultimately leads her to do.
And in an effort to express our gratitude to the memory and work of Zora Neale Hurston, a portion of the proceeds of Annalemma Issue Seven: Endurance will go directly to The Hurston Museum in Eatonville, an organization dedicated to showcasing works of artists of African descent.
Image: Ted Hollins
Walked down to the financial district on Saturday. People were protesting the building of a mosque at ground zero.
Others were protesting the protesters.
Captian America was on hand in case anything got out of control.
This was the unity contingent, protesting hate and bigotry. Much more attractive people in this crowd.
This guy had a bigger flag than anyone.
This is the proposed site of the Cordoba house, a Muslim community center which has plans to contain a mosque. It is located at 45 Park Place, two and a half blocks north of ground zero, 686 feet from an pre-existing mosque.
The street was blocked from entry at both sides of the block.
Enough heavy stuff. The Brooklyn Book Festival took place the next day and was totally rained out. Didn’t stop book folk from coming out in big numbers.
Didn’t stop store owners from selling babies for really darn cheap. Considering.
Didn’t stop me from taking a major stalker-y photo of Sarah Silverman and David Rakoff.
Say friend, do you like things? Were you aware that people still do things these days? It’s true. Here are some things that have happened (are happening):
Issue #4 and Issue Six: Sacrifice contributor Todd Jordan’s Now I Remember collective is showing the world through their cell phones at New Image Gallery (best click through image) in LA this weekend. I know you live there, I have Google Analytics. Go to this show.
Below is the tentative roster for Annalemma Issue Seven: Endurance. Tentative because not all of these people have gotten back to me yet. If you haven’t, please do. I want to print your stuff.
Coming For To Carry Me Home
Poem: Sasha Fletcher
Image: Jake Blanchard
You Will Be The Living Equation
Story: Amber Sparks
Images: Margaret Durow
2001 or This is How the Century is Born
Story: Salvatore Pane
Images: Justin Chen
The End, Temporarily
Story: Matthew Simmons
Images: Patrick Savile
Story: Brian Allen Carr
Images: Erin McCarty
Story: Justyn Harkin
Images: Sam Brewster
Five Pieces of a Broken Heart
Story: Roxane Gay
Image: Bryan Schutmaat
The Worst Thing My Father Did In His Life
Story: Patrick deWitt
Images: Cali deWitt
What is Your Favorite War?
Story: Joe Meno
Images: Kristian Hammerstad
Story: Nick Ripatrazone
Images: Rose Wind Jerome
The Difference Between
Story: Andrea Kneeland
Photo: Kristie Muller
Story: Nicolette Kittinger
Birth in the Memory
Story: Carl Fuerst
Image: Jonas Norway
Essay: Paul Kwiatkowski
At the Window
Essay: Jen Knox
Issue Five contributors Danny Jones and Jonpaul Douglass have started a new monthly online publication dedicated to gentlemen and the crafts that they love. Grain & Gram interviews men immersed in, and enthralled by, the process of making things. The second issue went live yesterday and features letterpress guru Nick Sambrato, of Mama’s Sauce Print Shoppe. My favorite thing about G&G is the scroll-ability of the page. Most websites are obsessively all about the clicks. Danny’s meticulous attention to detail and angular design style paired with Jonpaul’s rich, textured photos eliminate any desire to leave a page, making the G&G reading experience a smooth and engaging one. Cheers to Danny and Jonpaul for, yet again, making something very cool. Looking forward to seeing who they spotlight next.
Happy Birthday, USA.
I hope you did something yesterday to make you feel patriotic and I hope you didn’t work, like more than a few people did.
If you did work, you probably felt like you were in Communist Russia. And last time I checked, this was still America. Tell that Rooski boss of yours to quit treading on you.
I hope you ate some American food.
And saw some things that reminded you why this country does, on occasion, kick much ass.
It’s on 44th street in between 5th and 6th. Wear a sport coat (they won’t let you in without one) and slacks, preferably a dark color, with a button down shirt. You don’t have to wear a tie, in fact it’s probably better if you don’t. You don’t want to appear like you’re overcompensating by dressing too fancy.
The Harvard Club is also a hotel. There’s a front desk which you can’t avoid and the people working behind it are going to ask you if there’s anything they can help you with. Tell them you’re meeting someone at the bar. They will direct you to it. After you’ve breached the first line of security you’re free to roam the premises.
It’s important to walk around like you’ve got somewhere important to be. Or at least like you belong there. If you double-take or second guess your steps, they’ll get suspicious. There’s always someone watching.
There are secluded areas like this one. It is hard to imagine what these spaces, if anything, get used for anymore. It seems like anyone who’d be attending the Harvard Club would either confine themselves to the business room, a small bank of desktop PCs, or the bar.
If you wanted to you could probably sit here for hours, reading. Though that would probably spark suspicion since it’s unlikely anyone ever does this.
Take a picture of the debate fliers that your friend, Bob, would get a kick out of. Lift back one of these frames, find that it is a safe cover, find that the safe is unlocked, find that there is a key in the safe, find that there is a corresponding lock across the hallway in a secret wooden panel, find that the door leads you down into a secret fraternity spanking dungeon.
The Algonquin Hotel is two doors down. Stop in and take a picture. Try to feel a connection, to be moved or wowed by the legacy of New York writers bred by this place. Feel nothing.
There is some cool shit happening tonight if you live in Orlando: Annalemma is sponsoring “Hello from Florida: Photographs of the Sunshine State” a photo show curated by none other than our own print designer, Jen O’Malley.
6-10pm at Gallery at Avalon Island (39 South Magnolia Ave. Orlando, FL 32801) as part of the Snap! Orlando Photography Festival. Come on out folks, it’s gonna be tighter than my hands around the throats of BP Oil executives, given the opportunity.
The idea behind 48 Hour Magazine is an interesting one: Using all the tools of media available today to create a magazine that’s cool, fast and cheap.
In the opening letter the editors state they’re trying to marry the immediacy of the web with the permanence and beauty of print. A few weeks ago they announced a call to submit, people gave them their email addresses and the editors of fired off the starter pistol in the form of announcing the theme. Then a 48 hour frenzy of writing, photographing, illustrating and designing an entire 59 page magazine. Using a print-on-demand service called Mag Cloud, they uploaded a PDF file, figured out how much to charge for the magazine (Mag Cloud charges 20 cents per page) then folks go online, order it and it gets printed and shipped to them in a couple of days. Take a moment to catch your breath.
The only thing I’m having a problem with is this “beauty of print” part of the equation. While the print design is clean and straightforward, the images colorful and immediate, the actual quality of the book itself is inscrutable from anything you’ll find on the newsstands. I guess when I think of the “beauty of print” I think of magazines like Cabinet or McSweeneys, publications that treat the magazine as an artifact, another arena and opportunity to make something beautiful, to make a statement, and hopefully differentiate itself as much as possible from anything you could ever find on the web. But maybe that’s just me holding unrealistic standards.
The content is fun and resonant, the charts and graphs are colorful and informative. But the words seem to only skim the surface, a roadblock they no doubt hit due to their time constraint. It’s hard to come up with in-depth writing in less than two days.
The most impressive and appealing thing about 48HR is the speed with which it was created, a speed that speaks to the youthful feel of the book. The energy and exceitment, even the theme of the issue (Hustle), radiate this kind of vibrancy and possibility that’s downright sexy.
Final verdict: awesome (revolutionary?) media experiment. Future of print? Debatable.