Charlie & Lee

Charlie Kemp has a secret: For more than 50 years Charlie and Lee were a couple. They met when Lee came home from fighting in the Korean War, at that time Lee was a man. Twenty years into the relationship, Lee received one of the country's earliest sex-change operations. They were married in Las Vegas a year later, and lived the next 30 years as husband and wife. Charlie was a body builder who was crowned Mr. America, twice. Lee was a hairdresser, who always wanted to be a housewife. Theirs isn't a traditional love story -- but it says a lot about companionship and commitment.



Reminders of a love lost are rewound and rewatched as Charlie Kemp plays back old home movies of his wife Lee, filmed just before she passed away.



Copy photo of Lee in Japan 1949. He was in the service from 1946-49. And Charlie found this photo among Lee's stuff. It's one of the few pics left of her as a male, as she burned all the ones she could find.



Copy photo of Lee taken in November 1957, 19 years before his sex-change operation, when he was all dressed up for the hair dresser's ball. "She lived for that night," said Charlie Kemp, Lee's partner. "It was the one time of year she got all dressed up as a woman. But me, I wouldn't be seen dead with all those queens so I always hired someone to go with her as her date."




Wedding picture of Charlie and Lee in Las Vegas, May 13, 1978.



Charlie and Lee lived happily as husband and wife for over 30 years. For the first 20 years of their relationship, Lee was a man.



After finding a gym in Vero Beach that fits into his tight budget, Charlie Kemp - a former Mr. America - still works out as often as his body will allow. After Lee passed away, Charlie lives for his pet bird and working out.

Hunka Hunka Burnin' Love

The other day, I got an email from a college kid asking for advice on his upcoming internship. One of the things I told him was not to worry about how things run in the paper, the important thing is getting time to make good pictures and have amazing experiences. I'm reminding myself of that now...

This was a quick, little project that was a lot of fun to work on. I was welcomed with open arms in to the local Elvis subculture. And really enjoyed getting to know all the Elvii and their families. It's amazing to me how different they all are, but how they're united by a common love. Much to my surprise, I even found myself tapping my foot and singing along to some of the songs.



At a local Elvis MeetUp group, that he's president of, Jeremy Ewbank sings along with the karaoke machine to "That's Alright Mama." Before ending his act with the obligatory "thank you, thank you very much."



A quiet night at home gives Jeremy "Elvis" Ewbank time alone with his newborn daughter Preslie Jean.



Donning his white silver-studded jumpsuit Jeremy Ewbank dances front-and-center during the Ultimate Elvis Tribute Artist Contest, which attracted over 30 Elvii. Ewbank's act is packed full of pelvic thrusts and karate moves.



Donning his white silver-studded jumpsuit Jeremy Ewbank bends down to kiss a young, squealing fan on the cheek.



After an Elvis-themed wedding, Jeremy Ewbank, left, smiles as his mother-in-law Brenda Freeman, and his ex-stepdad Bob Gwyn walk off as husband and wife.



The wedding vows Jeremy Ewbank read, lie on top of his Elvis CD collection along with his oversized gold rimmed glasses.



Jeremy Ewbank and his family spend and evening jamming in their living room, He's loved music since he was a child, and is trying to pass that along to his own children.



During the 5th annual Tampa Elvis Fesitval, Jeremy "Elvis" Ewbank, right, belts out his favorite Elvis songs at Splitsville in Channelside, while his friend and fellow Elvis Tribute Artist Bill Lindsey DJs.

Emma & Duck

I'm working through a post in my head. So until then...

You can look at the cutest thing ever.

Roll Down the Windows

"Is there a piece of music that you would most like to makes photos like?"

These were John Loomis' first words to me this morning. Man, way to get my brain going before the coffee kicked in. Then he went and followed it up with a great blog post, about the "indistinguishable line between music and photography."

For John, the essence is Tom Waits.

I still don't have a concrete answer. For me, photography is as fluid as the music I like, and equally as diverse. Either way both are based on my mood at the time.

I've always loved music, mainly because more than anything else, it makes me feel something. I still have songs that resonate deeply and can instantly take me back to a very specific point in time. Songs that memories are connected to. Simon and Garfunkel's "Cecilia"... Smashing Pumpkins' "Silverfuck"... Nirvana's "All Apologies"... The Pixies entire Doolittle album...

Nick Hornby wrote about songs he loves or loved in 31 songs. In the intro he says that he wanted to write about what these songs brought to him, not what he brought to the songs. One of my favorite essays in the book is on Gregory Isaac's "Puff the Magic Dragon." When Hornby's son Danny is born, he dreams of sharing his love of music with him. He wonders whether his boy will simply be a fan, or learn to play an instrument and perform at Royal Albert Hall.

Danny is severely autistic. But regardless, he feels music. Intensely. So much so, that he created his own word for it -- "goggo." And through songs like "Puff the Magic Dragon" on a children's reggae CD, Hornby finds that bond.

If it's true that music does, as I've attempted to argue elsewhere, serve as a form of self-expression even to those of us who can express ourselves tolerably well in speech or in writing, how much more vital is it going to be for him, when he has so few other outlets? That's why I love the relationship with music he has already, because it's how I know he has something in him that he wants others to articulate. In fact, thinking about it now, it's why I love the relationship anyone has with music: because there's something in us beyond the reach of words, something that eludes and defies our best attempts to spit it out.

When I was a kid, I used to love making compilation tapes for people. And for me, a big part of that was trying to capture a feeling and then sharing that with someone else. I think the same holds true for the pictures I take.

In the spirit of that I give you my Summer 07 Mix. Picture a big blue sky, with puffy white clouds, and the sun instantly warming your skin. It makes me want to Roll Down the Windows and Drive.

Trotter

The first thing I did when the plane touched down in Portland was make a beeline for Powell's bookstore. In over 3 hours, I only stepped outside of the photo section twice. Once for the bathroom, once to go drool on Nachtwey's "Deeds of War" in the rare & out-of-print room.

While looking through thousands of photo books. Pulling out ones I'd heard of, but never seen. And random ones I'd never heard of, I grabbed a copy of "Burk Uzzle's "A Family Named Spot." One I've been meaning to pick up, since I learned Uzzle moved to St. Petersburg... Uzzle was the youngest contract photographer Life Magazine ever hired, and went onto be a 15-year member of Magnum (and twice, the agency's president). Anyways, as I started to look at it, a voice to my left says, "that's a great book, do you know his work." Kind of, I replied. And a conversation began.

Then I went back to my picture looking, and the voice went back to its own conversation. A little while later, a grabbed "Carnival Strippers" off the shelf.

"I just saw Susan Meiselas on a panel with Jonas Bendiksen and Thomas Dworzak in New York. She's so amazing."

I turned, to enter back into conversation, with the voice. Who had a familiar face. Clean cut appearance. Short cropped graying hair. Khaki pants. Boots. Steely gaze that said he'd seen to much. I instantly had him pegged for a documentary photographer. Possible war photographer type.

We introduced ourselves. I learned that his name is John Trotter. Familiar, too. So I asked why I knew it. Trotter began to tell me his story, and I learned that he had seen too much. Had earned that steely gaze the hard way. Had lived though his own personal war.

He invited me to a gallery opening the following night. Blue Sky Gallery was showing some of his work. After being beaten within inches of his life (while shooting a hot weather feature of some kids playing), Trotter had to learn how to walk, talk and speak again. Six months after being released from Sierra Gates, a brain injury treatment facility, he returned there to document it.

"Having been attacked because I was a photographer I needed, as much as anything else, to learn to be a photographer again. But I had taken pictures there for about a year before I understood that I was trying to understand my own completely altered experience of life."

This was one of those serendipitous experiences I'm thankful for. A meeting by luck and chance. Based on nothing more than a mutual love of photography.

But John, it was really nice meeting you. And even nicer to see that journey you're taking on the long road to recovery has led to some self discovery and a huge show of strength. Thanks for sharing.

you are here

Sometimes it's good to know where you're going, or where you've been. But it's even more important to know where you are... right now... at this very moment. So, ask yourself if you're where you want to be. And if you're not... do something about it.

One of the most valuable things I learned this weekend was something Mike Davis said... "If you want to grow your photography, grow your self." He was telling us a story about how Magnum photographer Chien-Chi Chang's photos are incredibly lyrical and poetic and unassuming, and how that's because Chang is one of the most lyrical, poetic and unassuming people he knows. Who he is... is what he does. He believes that the best way to expand your work is to expand who you are, and what you do.

Makes sense.

If you are here, and you want to be there. Go.

Bookish

If I have one vice, it's photo books. There's a tangible quality that I love. There's nothing like holding a collection of images in your hands. Poring over the pages. One at a time. Being able to linger. Open. Close. Go back. It's like having a gallery that's always open and easily accessible. It's like having a key into a photographer's heart, eye and mind.

Now those who know me know I'm a little anal retentive obsessive about my books. Unlike my music collection, which is sorted alphabetically for ease of use, the books have a different flow. I tend to put photographers next to one another based on the fact that I think they could be great friends, with like interests and similar styles.

For example Lee Friedlander, William Eggleston and Alec Soth... Stephen Shore, Joel Sternfeld, Mitch Epstein and Bill Owens... Robert Capa and Dan Eldon... Brian Finke, Mike Slack and Jason Fulford...

Over the years, people have asked me what my favorites are, and while that's a constantly changing and evolving list I'll give you the most current one. My top 10:

From the Sunshine State by Alex Webb -- I have more books by Webb than anyone else. Six at last count. (Everything but his book Dislocations, which is a limited 20-edition accordion book, that I've seen on ebay for $700+!) I could easily say he's my favorite contemporary photographer. And think his influence on my own work is pretty obvious. And while Hot Light/Half-Made Worlds is an amazing collection of images and the easy choice. I think I'm biased toward a book about my home state. I really enjoy seeing places I've seen my whole life, through his eyes. It's the one I come back to most. I also think his wit and humor is evident more here than in his other books as well.

Dream/Life by Trent Parke -- Yeah, wow.... Parke is amazing. His work is epic. It transcends. It elevates. It emotes. It really makes me want to go out and make better pictures.

Holding Venus by Keith Carter -- Dreamy. Ethereal. Beautiful.

The Americans by Robert Frank -- A classic. A reminder of the power of documentary photography.

Telex Iran by Gilles Peress -- At the time, this book was revolutionary. A new style emerged from this set of images, and he set the standard for seeing things differently. Even today, it's a good reminder that the best photographs are a blend of content and composition.

Winterreise by Luc Delahaye -- It feels intimate and playful like a diary or travelogue. And serious like a deep sociological exploration into the depresion of a countryside and its people. It also feels very personal, like some of the demons he's wrestling with come out through his subjects.

Raising Frogs for $$$ by Jason Fulford -- A simple book of beautiful polaroids. Some of the photos in this book truly make the ordinary seem extraordinary.

East Side Stories: Gang Life in East LA by Joseph Rodriguez -- He lived it. Lived through it. And came back stronger because of it.

Divided Soul by David Alan Harvey -- I love the fluidity and feel of his work. His ability to seemlessly blend into situations and make me feel like a part of the scene is unparalleled.

nonfiction by Christopher Anderson -- Serious war photographer turned light-hearted Holga user. The images just make me smile. Goes to prove it's not the camera....

And if you really like me, you now know the way to my heart.

Good reminder

I was shooting a 16-year-old violinist at a youth orchestra rehearsal this afternoon, when the conductor stopped play at one point to tell the young musicians:

You can't rush through a moment.

You have to give them time.

New and Improved

New haircut... New pair of jeans... New tattoo... I feel like a new woman.