Despite the nightmare of parking, and the throngs of black-clad gallery people, we attended the opening reception for The Beautiful & The Damned, Punk Photographs by Ann Summa last night, at Track 16 Gallery in Bergamot Station. (How's that for three links in one sentence?) Both Ann Summa and Exene Cervenka were on hand for a book signing, and the place was packed.
The pictures were beautiful, almost serene, despite the fact that many had been photographed during energetic performances. Amidst the chaos of the LA punk rock scene, Ann Summa managed to find moments of clarity.
Whatever the subject, each frame was beautifully lit, really a work of art, not just capturing something outrageous. It occurred to me how difficult it must be to photograph a live performance. Buildings will stand still for as long as you like, but with people, you have to work quickly. And even so, she managed to find a moment with each performer - a moment of absolute focus, or clarity, or something.
I was only eight in 1980, when many of the photographs in the exhibit were taken, but the same bands carried me through my teens. Souxsie Soux, David Byrne, Dale Bozzio, and most importantly, Exene Cervenka and John Doe of X. We all have our music that got us through high school, well, X was mine. Seeing Exene Cervenka at the gallery was paralyzing. She looked older, but still herself. I think if John Doe was there I would have cried.
That era of punk rock was not the distortion and senseless noise of the Sex Pistols. The music was lyrical - there actually was a melody, but Exene sang with the power of a freight train on top of a driving guitar. The music was pure energy. And the louder I play it, loud enough that I can physically feel it, it provides an outlet - somewhere for those big feelings to go. I listened to them a lot in high school, and I've been listening to them a lot lately.
After the signing, Exene sat with an acoustic guitar and sang us a few songs. Her voice still sounds great - it's not the plaintive wail of her harmonies with John Doe, mellower now, and still melodic. I'll be honest, I was wishing John Doe would walk in and join her, but maybe that was too much to ask. Nonetheless it was amazing hearing her voice live and in such an intimate space. That voice is so wrapped up in my formative years - I know it as well as my own mother's.
And of course, I was there with my camera, the Mamiya 6, and NO FILM! I am incredibly unobservant for a photographer. Ugh.
