Xavier Nuez » Adventures

More early images

Mon, 22 Dec 2008 21:29:58 +0000

I’m in Ann Arbor, MI for the holidays, spending time with friends and the in-laws, and looking at some of the old images I scanned recently…

Before my Alley series began in earnest, in the early 90’s, I had already been shooting at night for many years. In 1984 (I was 19), this old, dead tree had piqued my interest for many months. One night I made a trip to the tree, which stood on someone’s front yard in a very wealthy neighborhood, and in front of a very busy street. The medieval-inspired branches were almost invisible in the night, against the sky. I had just started using my flash at night, and so I pulled it out. Running up the steps, I quickly flashed the branches, knowing the residents of the house might see me… It was the first time I had created an image that resembled something from the Alley series today.

Ere, 1984, Montreal

Morocco

Sun, 21 Dec 2008 00:47:10 +0000

Here is another old street photo, shot in Morocco, 1991. I stayed with a family in this neighbohood for a week. There was a boy my age in the family, Safi, who I hung out with, but if we were walking down the street, he would walk on the other side, for fear of being labelled an illegal tour guide by the police. The penalty was time in jail and a beating. Of course it was impossible to maintain this distance at all times, and one day while we’re talking, an umarked van squeels to a halt next to us and 2 police come out, grab Safi, and throw him in the back, where others “criminals” are sitting and waiting . Every one of them looks petrified. I had to scream and plead with the police, lying to them that Safi’s sister was wife to my brother. After an incredibly long exchange between all of us, they decide in the end to let Safi stay.

Shooting in the Twin Cities

Tue, 05 Aug 2008 19:01:16 +0000

I’m in Ann Arbor, MI (a little dazed and confused) for a few days before heading for Chicago for the Gold Coast show. Despite the slowing economy, my shows continue going strong and I’m eternally grateful!
In the Twin Cities this weekend, I went out shooting two nights in St. Paul, and I’m thrilled with the shots. I still have to develop the film, so I’ll only know then if they look good technically (i.e. if they are sharp, and the lighting is good.). I shot Polaroid tests both nights, so I have an idea. I was with Emmanual and Donald from the night before. For entertainment during our Saturday night shoot under a bridge along the Great River Road, up to twenty cars were drag racing, their engines roaring. The Police eventually arrived, and everyone scrambled, only to return again 20 minutes later to continue their racing. And we met a man who sleeps under the bridge whenever his wife kicks him out for drinking too much. More on his story later…

For now here’s a beat up Polaroid test shot from Saturday night (its a very, VERY rough version of what I have on film). The image is of an amazing abandoned loading dock under a bridge along the Mississippi River. There were maybe fifteen old and corroding bay doors, flanked by great pillars, under a crumbling ceiling. Decades ago, trains would unload their cargo here, onto waiting trucks.

Redneck country

Tue, 29 Jul 2008 02:56:13 +0000

Driving back to the Bay Area from Seattle today brought back memories of an amazing hitchhiking trip that I took down the coast, from Seattle to San Diego, many years ago with my friend Gerry. Two guys hitchhiking is a recipe for not getting a lift, so we had to devise ways around this. One of us would stand with a sign saying “Hitchhiker – 100 feet” while the other would stand down the road with another sign saying “Hitchhiker”. Another absurd attempt was holding a sign that said, “We eat wheat.” But the most effective of all was when the two of us would act outrageously silly. We’d hop around, arms flailing, pulling our hair – doing whatever as long as it was absurd and silly… Gerry loved “playing piano” on his teeth while humming a tune… We’d do this while holding a sign with the name of the next city. This somehow worked great and people would laugh and stop, and we had great fun doing it. We kept this up through Washington… through Oregon… But we found that the further south we went, the less people laughed. In southern Oregon, no one was laughing any more. The climax occurred in Crescent City: California’s most northern city. Here they were downright nasty: cars would intentionally swerve toward us; people would poke their faces through curtains and just stare at us; others were yelling obscenities. We started to feel like everyone in this town knew who we were… that news about these two strangers had rapidly spread to every pore of this angry place. We were in redneck hell! We stopped the crazy behavior and decided to walk to the edge of town and resume our hitching beyond the city.

Minutes later, a pickup truck abruptly turns, driving right onto the sidewalk we are walking on and blocking our path. Four big guys in lumber jackets step out and walk toward us. “Wha don’t you git a job an baa a caa,” one says through a sneer. Gerry and I look at each other. “Yea… well.. yea …that’s what we’re gonna do when we get back home.”

They stare at each other, not sure what to do. Another says, “an wha don’t you cut yo hiii, maybe you git a rad.” We stare at each other again and nod. “Yea, that’s what we need to do.”

They stare at each other, angry and confused since we’re not giving them a chance to descend upon us with their fists (and likely resulting in our being charged by the local Sherriff with Disturbing the Peace). They climb back in their pickup and drive away.

“Holy shit, lets get the fuck outta here!!”

We quickly walk to a corner store; I pick up the phone (this is pre-historic, pre-cell phone days) and call a cab. Gerry comes up to me, wide-eyed. “X, you gotta see.” I go to the window and see three pickups parked side by side with their lights on, full of guys staring at us like they want to kill us.

The cab arrives and we tell the cabbie to just get us out of this place. As we’re driving to a campground in the nearby Redwoods, I tell him what’s been happening. The driver looks at me with some disdain – he knows all about us, just like the rest of the town. He growls at us, “If I’d seen you boys hoppin round, I’d a run you over!!”

We get to the campground and have a good sleep. The next morning we resume our trip, finding to our great relief that continuing south, we re-enter civilization where tolerance and people’s sense of humor returns.

Stuff I shot on this recent trip:

Birds at dawn:

Low water levels in California from a 2-year drought

Cows watching the sunrise

Trees watching the sunrise

My stupid-ass digital camera

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 19:19:13 +0000

I got back home this morning… drove all day and night from Denver, with Pam sharing the driving… Now I have today and part of tomorrow to do everything I can’t do on the road.

I fly to Des Moines tomorrow at midnight (with an armful of artwork) to get my van and drive to Chicago for the Magnificent Mile show. I have many orders to ship out, many pieces to prepare, new images I want to test-print and finish. I’ve also made a brochure illustrating the alleys which I’ll be sending to museums and galleries worldwide, as well as to everyone on my mailing list. (If you aren’t on it, send me an email with your snail mail address) I’m also preparing for 2 gallery shows in August. One at Stanford University’s Art Spaces (fifteen 32×40’s !); the other at San Joaquin Valley College Gallery in Stockton, CA.

Driving back through the desert on a moonless night was mind-blowing. I had to stop on a dark side road so I could get out of my van and stare up. I’ve never seen the Milky Way so bright and beautiful. I could stare at the stars for hours. The book that whacked my head the hardest was the late Carl Sagan’s Cosmos. I read it in my early 20’s and it put the universe, and my reality, into a deep and profound perspective.

And now for some bitching….I lost many of the pictures I took yesterday because my stupid-ass digital camera is a piece of crap. I was fuming for hours, obsessing over their loss, and trying to remember what they looked like. I shouldn’t really care, because the camera is a low-quality thing that makes lousy 8×10’s. So the pictures I take on my trips are just for fun and are ultimately throw aways. (Although my blog has given them an outlet which is great)

But damn is it annoying! I had several great Rocky Mountain shots that I went out of my way to get, plus an odd picture for my friend Ernesto who collects unusual sign photos for his blog. There’s a road in Colorado called No Name, and it has an exit off highway 70.

Here’s a tip for you. I’ve driven across the country several times. If you plan on doing this, avoid Hwy 80. The 70 offers spectacular views of the Colorado Rockies, and the Utah bluffs

Most of my Colorado shots are lost, but I did get some shots in Utah. Now I have to take a nap………………

Mother Nature can be a real bitch

Sat, 28 Jun 2008 00:42:03 +0000

A severe storm alert has been announced by the Des Moines Police. Headed our way, in 30 minutes, is a 70 miles/hr hail storm. A large mass of scary looking black clouds are in the horizon, slowly marching toward us. All the artists have closed down, and tied down as much as possible. I too have done what I can, but I’m nervous. Mother Nature can be a real bitch…. if it’s bad enough, I could lose most of my art work.

I was in one other severe storm maybe six years ago in Michigan. It was one of my first shows, and I didn’t know what I was doing back then. I struggled just to break even in those days. But a woman had come to see my work three times, telling me each time how much she wanted four large pieces. On the third visit she told me she would bring her husband to close the deal, and I was thrilled. Minutes later the show people come by announcing a severe weather warning. They tell us we can leave if we want. My neighbors start to pack up, but I just know the woman is coming back, and so I wait. As the weather gets worse I slowly realize she’s not coming back. But now I’ve past the safety theshold and the weather is so bad, my assistant and I are now desperately holding the walls back. I quickly start putting the art into their crates, as Alan keeps the walls from coming down on us. With the help of some of the great and generous artists that do these shows, I manage to get all my art to safety inside my van. However the weather is now pounding us. In one surreal moment, my booth starts to lift from the wind. We get out of the way and watch it lift like in the Wizard of Oz. It is airborne briefly, then comes crashing down on its side and begins rolling. I can hear the horrible sound of screeching, breaking and twisting metal. When it’s all done, I’ve saved the art and half my booth.

I’m better prepared here, but hail ripping through the roof could be a real party pooper. The wind is picking up… I have to go.

Truck Stop

Mon, 23 Jun 2008 19:49:55 +0000

Onward and onward… I’m sitting at the airport in Des Moines with 30 minutes to spare, waiting for my plane to take me back to California. After the show in Milwaukee I went out shooting with a young, local photographer, Mark Adgate. I’m thrilled about the one shot we did! It will be on-line in a few weeks (unless my schedule knocks me out first). I knew I had a good shot, so I worked it hard, adding plenty of my lighting, and doing various exposures… I found an old truck, fifty or sixty years old, slowly becoming one with the earth. It had been sitting in this alley for years, maybe decades waiting for its close-up. On the truck’s bed was another old truck in even worse condition, having been in a fire. All of this glory in an old alley that I would have stared at in admiration even without the trucks. We finished at 1:30am, and I got on the road for Des Moines. I’m running on a few hours of sleep in the front seat of the van, and on my great friend: 5-hour Energy Drink!!!

Old Milwaukee at dusk:

Me shooting last night:

Shooting alone

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 02:07:21 +0000

I got some excellent leads for places to shoot tonight in Milwaukee. I didn’t find anyone to shoot with so I’ll go out alone. I have to be twice as careful, at least in theory, when I shoot alone at night. If I find a neighborhood with a lot of potential, I’ll park the van and walk around to get a feel for it, and gauge how safe it is. But its always stressful alone. The toughest part is when I compose the image. I need to look through the viewfinder for a long time, and concentrate. Its hard to do this properly if I also have to look over my shoulder every five seconds.

But I’m excited… I hope to finally get that Milwaukee shot tonight.

The poultry in me

Sun, 01 Jun 2008 05:20:36 +0000

It’s nice to do a show close to home, like I am this week with the Union Street Art Festival. I’d better enjoy it while it lasts though, because starting next weekend, I have a show every week until September or October somewhere far, far from home. Last year I enjoyed a similarly insane schedule, but this year its truly bent.
From art to hockey! I grew up playing hockey, from the age of five – I was a goaltender. The Montreal Canadiens will always be the one and only sports franchise I love, but the Detroit Red Wings are my next soft spot and they are one win from the Stanley Cup, so woo hoo! I know, I know… who cares – just show us some damn pictures!
This image was shot in Dec 2007 in San Francisco with a very mystical guy I met who called himself Maestro. He was an unusually mysterious guy who would disclose virtually nothing about himself. I know he would spend hours meditating almost every day, and this was fascinating, but he would tell me little more. While scouting for a shot late at night, we came across an old gated warehouse district. A security guard sat inside reading his newspaper. Maestro called him over and hypnotized him. After parading naked, squawking like a chicken for 10 minutes, the guard opened the gate and gave us free rein. No, no I remember now. He hypnotized both of us. The guard opened the gate, while I was the naked one squawking like a chicken. Yea that’s how it went. Any way once inside I got this shot. As it turns out, the poultry in me is not as good an artist as the regular me, and so I’m shelving this shot.

The Gangsters of Compton, CA

Wed, 28 May 2008 06:05:05 +0000

This is one of the two shots from my adrenalin-fueled shoot in a Compton alley two months ago. The other shot will be ready someday before the end of time. (Hopefully sooner, because its also a good shot)

This was the second of the two that night and was done with the help of Jorge, a Compton gang leader, along with a few of his gangsters, as he called them. The group shot was taken just after completing this image. I’m calling the piece “Gangsters”

The story is really quite unbelievable. And there’s a freaky thing I’ve noticed since then: a guy named Luis may have saved my life by resembling me. Jorge thought I was Luis at first and so we became friends. The name Luis is spray-painted on the wall behind me. Its visible in the group shot and in the Alley shot.