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to celebrate the fact that we've seen the back of another black day

pollyandthewall — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 12:58:27 +0000

ეხლა მივხვდი რა ბედნიერებაა შაბათ-კვირა.
დასვენების დღეები


Helmut Newton - The two Violetta's in bed

The Fashion Canteen

clickini — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 06:38:08 +0000

I found this brilliant article about Davé on guardian.co.uk - it tells everything you need to know! :

Welcome to the fashion canteen

No menu, no prices - and no nobodies. Davé is the fashion world's best-kept secret but if you can get past the 'full' sign on the door and secure a top table in this tiny Chinese restaurant in Paris, you can be sure you're at the cutting edge of style. Michael Specter talks stars and spring rolls with le patron, Davé Cheung

Michael Specter
The Observer,
Sunday January 16 2005
Article history

One evening not long ago, I wandered down the Rue de Richelieu on my way to a Chinese restaurant called Davé, which is recommended regularly by people in the fashion business. Like many popular restaurants in Paris, reservations are hard to make at Davé. So I wasn't surprised to find a Complet sign hanging over the door. Inside, though, the place was practically empty - there was just one couple, sitting at a table near the window. A rumpled, unshaven Chinese man of indeterminate age emerged from the kitchen. He had wild black hair and was wearing a pink shirt, seersucker trousers, and lime-green silk slippers. This was the owner, Davé Cheung - but nobody uses his last name. He led me to a banquette and poured tea, and I asked him why he'd placed a sold out sign on the door on a night when there were 30 empty tables.

'Are you kidding? Do you know what would happen if I took that sign down?' People might come in to have dinner? 'Exactly! They would just walk right in. I would have to let anybody who wanted come and eat here. I would have no control over my own restaurant!'

There are more than 1,500 Chinese restaurants in Paris. As a culinary experience, Davé ranks somewhere in the top half. Nobody recommends Davé for the food, however, or the prices, which, while always high, vary according to what the owner feels like serving. Or for the ambience. Davé is dark and claustrophobic, hemmed in by quilted red walls and a velvet curtain inside the door. A tropical-fish tank, which sits in the middle of the front room, provides the only real source of light. Despite all that, Davé may be the most frequently and reverentially mentioned Chinese restaurant in France. It's certainly the most exclusive. Except on weekends, when he does not serve lunch, the place is open every day. On a busy night during the Paris fashion collections Davé serves 100 dinners - many of them tofu and bok choy, at around €60 a head.

'I know you are saying to yourself - "This is a restaurant in Paris, of all places - why would anybody go there if the food was not spectacular?",' says Davé. He throws up his hands. 'It's simple. People don't come here for the food. They come for me. My guests are tired, and this is where they can relax at the end of the day and be with each other socially. They don't want to be disturbed by a bunch of tourists.' The word seemed to twist his face into a moue of distaste. 'My job is to make fabulous people feel fabulous. I mean, really, anybody can serve a spring roll.'

Davé is a restaurant that caters to writers, actors, film directors, and rock stars. Allen Ginsberg would wander in when he was in Paris, choose a quiet corner table, ask for a bowl of wonton soup, and read in the dark. ( 'I always worried he would hurt his eyes,' Davé says. 'We don't have that much reading here.') Bernardo Bertolucci has eaten at Davé, and so have Oliver Stone and David Bowie. Davé is always happy to see them, but when he talks about fabulous people he really means fabulous fashion people, because for much of his life fashion is all he has cared about. 'When I was younger, I became obsessed with fashion, with the drama of it,' he says. 'In school, I would go through Vogue and Elle and I always wondered who was behind it and how did it work. Who was making these women look the way they did? That is what fashion really does: it makes fake things real.'

Davé makes fake things real, too. The restaurant functions as a sort of school canteen for the nomadic denizens of the fashion world, who traipse constantly between New York, Paris, and Milan. And, just as in school, the food at Davé never matters nearly as much as the seating arrangements. People go there to assure themselves of their stature in a world where little else matters. Some of the most famous editors in the fashion business have stormed out of fashion shows that they are paid to attend when they find, to their shame, that they have been assigned a seat in the second row. Ask why it matters and most will tell you that it is impossible to see the shoes from the second or - God forbid - the third row. In fact, what is impossible for them is to be seen as people who are not important enough to sit where they want to sit.

'Look, it's that new girl from Chanel,' a Davé regular said one evening. 'Let's see what he does with her.' A tiny blonde woman, dressed mostly in feathers and diamonds, and wearing cowboy boots, stood warily at the entrance. Diners openly stared as Davé moved, deliberately, toward the door. Where would he seat this woman? Certainly not in one of the alcoves at the front of the restaurant. Perhaps he would put her in the back room, a decision that would make the regular patrons feel better about themselves and confirm their suspicions that she was nobody. Davé seemed unsure at first, too, but in the French fashion world you don't mistreat the people at Chanel, so he gave her a table near the entrance. The woman sat down and placed a napkin across her miniskirt. ' J'aime bien ,' she said. 'J'aime bien. ' The room returned to its food.

Later that evening, Davé faced a more complicated seating problem. Again, the room looked up. Loulou de la Falaise was the archetypal muse, the inspiration for Yves Saint Laurent in the Seventies. Now in her late fifties, she still makes a regal entrance wherever she goes, and she goes everywhere. As everybody watched, Davé led her to an inferior table. The crowd seemed pleased. 'Loulou is like a little girl,' he told me later. 'She is very, very childish and very grand. Nobody can look at anybody else when she is in the room or she begins to pout.'

There could be few greater humiliations than to be exiled behind the wall separating the front room and the back room, past the fish tank and nearly into the kitchen. Some of the most powerful people in the fashion business treat Davé with a deference that they withhold from nearly everyone except those who can provide them with a good table. 'There are some bitchy people in the fashion world,' the designer Marc Jacobs told me one night. 'But nobody is stupid enough to offend Davé.'

During Paris fashion weeks, the battle for a table can become even more absurd. 'Leo and Gisele had to stand in the street for 20 minutes a while ago,' Davé told me, with a grin. He was referring to Leonardo DiCaprio and the model Gisele Bundchen. 'Can you imagine that? Leo had come to introduce Gisele to moi , and he was not happy at all. But what was I supposed to do? Tell my beloved friend Helmut Newton to get up and leave? Or should I have gotten rid of John Galliano? Gisele was really cute about it. But Leo was annoyed. And, you know, I owe a lot to Leo, because without him Tobey [DiCaprio's friend Tobey Maguire] would never have come in. And now he is here all the time.'

Davé was born in Hong Kong in 1953. His family was from a province in northern China, but when he was a teenager his parents moved to Paris. The family settled in the suburbs, and it didn't take him long to realise that his ambitions were larger than the few blocks in which he lived his life. Yet his father had a restaurant, and he and his brothers and sisters were expected to work in it. That was what the Cheung family did.

'I was pushed, I think, by the usual fear of the immigrant,' he says. 'So I worked all the time. And I still do. I don't take holidays and I don't go away for the weekend. I am here. Every day. Always.' Late in the afternoon, he can often be found napping on his favourite banquette. He does have a flat, just a short walk from the restaurant. 'When I go home I watch a movie or sleep. But mostly I am here, and my customers like that. They know I am not going to be in New York or on the Riviera when they call. These are people who like certainty.'

Davé opened his restaurant in the summer of 1982, and two decades later he moved it to the current location, not far from the Comedie Française. 'There is such a thing as luck in this world,' he told me. The old restaurant was near the Jardin des Tuileries, where all the fashion shows were held. Helmut Newton came in, and so did Grace Coddington, the creative director of American Vogue . 'Everything followed from that. They came back with their friends. Then the rock people came; Duran Duran were there every day. And Azzedine, Yohji, and Rei [the designers Azzedine Alaia, Yohji Yamamoto, and Rei Kawakubo]. People started to have parties. It just went from there.'

Polaroids of notable customers, and, in the case of Newton, Keith Haring, and a few others, pictures and drawings by notable customers, line Davé's walls. Davé will give a tour of those pictures with anyone who asks. 'There is Naomi,' he says. 'And, look, it's Caroline, Karl, Keanu, and Kevin!' he shouts, giddy with delight. 'There is Leo and moi ,' he says, pointing to a photograph of a young DiCaprio. 'And there is Leo in the Titanic phase. And there he is when he was making The Beach .' DiCaprio leads to Tobey Maguire, who leads to Gwyneth Paltrow. 'She has come since she was a girl. Then me.' After that, it's on to a self-portrait by Sting; then a photograph of Davé with Francis Ford Coppola. ( 'God, that guy loves to eat.') 'Then another of Naomi and me. There is Tobey again'- as always, with Davé by his side. Davé speaks French, English, Cantonese, and Mandarin, and he uses the first person extensively in all of them.

'Look, it's Tom, ' he says, pointing to a picture of Tom Ford that was taken not long before he resigned, in April, as chief designer for Gucci, an event treated by some of Davé's customers at least as seriously as the war with Iraq. In the picture, Ford is dressed in a white turtleneck and a white velvet jacket with huge lapels, and he is wearing aviator glasses. Ford had attended a party in the restaurant the night before, and Davé was smiling broadly. 'He was wild last night. I can say no more. Wild, do you understand me?' I tried to wrest some details from him. 'Non, non, non. I can say no more.' He concluded, 'But, when Tom loses it, it is lost.'

Davé tries to be discreet, but his opinions often overcome the effort. 'Puffy is so insecure, ' he told me once. 'I swear to God, he had his people calling me for a table 10 times a day. I would say sure, and they would call back an hour later to see if everything was still OK.

'Stella,' he says, referring to the designer Stella McCartney, 'she is charming. She is cool. Maybe her clothes don't have a very strong image, maybe she wouldn't have the job she has if her last name was something else... but who am I to say?'

Fashion week is trying for Davé. In the midst of the women's collections last year, I found him sitting on a banquette and looking weary. He took a large leather folio from the podium near the kitchen (he uses the podium to orchestrate the restaurant's movements). The folio is his reservations roster, and for that night it was more than full. 'Look,' he said to me, dragging the book in front of my face. 'This is a table for Women's Wear Daily and that is a party for French Vogue .' Jonathan Newhouse, the chairman of Condé Nast International and a frequent visitor to the restaurant, had also reserved a table. 'It's one of those nights when everyone plans to be here,' and by 'everyone' he means people he actually wants in the restaurant. Elizabeth Saltzman Walker, a fashion director at Vanity Fair and a longtime Davé habitue, called to confirm a table. 'Yes, baby,' Davé cooed. 'Of course. Of course. I will have everything and everybody you want. Yes, come after the catwalk show. I will keep everything for you.' After he hung up, he looked at me and smiled. 'She is very close with Tom, you know,' he says. 'Very close. ' The phones rings every few minutes. Although Davé can be unctuous when it is required, he also enjoys the power that comes with saying no. Here is his side of a fairly typical conversation: 'No. We have nothing.' Pause. 'No, not at any time.' Pause. 'We have nothing.' Pause. 'Not tomorrow, either.' Pause. 'I don't want to say yes. Of course you can call back. I don't want to say yes.' Pause. 'I can't encourage you.' Pause. 'No, we don't get many cancellations. I don't think so. No. Not really. Goodbye.' He hangs up. 'Sometimes American visitors call every day. And I will say, "No, there is nothing". And they will call back the next day and the day after that. I respect that. They are so pushy and aggressive. I can't be that way, but I respect that.'

Davé is his own rope line. If you dial his number, he will answer. If you want a table, you will need to get it from him. 'There are some people for whom I will always have a table,' he continues. 'They know that. And that is the way a restaurant has to work. I answer the phone and try to be nice. I say I am sorry. I say, "You can call back later". But I am working 16 hours every day and the people call several times and they will wait for the other per son to answer the phone. But I am the other person. I am always the other person.'

The fashion crowd is not famous for its gustatory instincts. 'They eat mostly vegetables these days,' Davé says. 'When they eat. Besides bok choy, it's broccoli. Steamed vegetables and tofu. They're so afraid of carbohydrates. Deathly afraid.' And what about rice, the staple of Chinese food nearly everywhere? 'My God,' he laughs. 'They act like it's poison.' Many Paris chefs rise at dawn to scour the markets for the freshest ingredients. Davé does not. He closes his restaurant each night around one. Most mornings, by the time he gets out of bed, all the best vegetables have long been sold to other customers. He doesn't need to hunt for them anyway, because Davé pays a service to buy food for him. The food is delivered two or three times a week. His kitchen is basic and minimally staffed. Davé doesn't believe in menus, and few of his regular customers have ever consulted one. 'I have been going there for 30 years and I never even knew he had a menu,' Grace Coddington told me. 'He just knows what I want to eat, and if I want something different I tell him.' Davé confers with his diners when they arrive, and if they have a request he will honour it. Usually, he just says, 'Let me bring you something good, lemon chicken, for example, or bok choy, and usually spring rolls and spare ribs, too. I asked about his anti-menu stance. 'Too much stress,' he says. 'That is why I don't use them. We don't talk about bills, either. It's rude. Just come and sit with your friends and I will bring you food. And drink. Put the cost out of your mind for five minutes,' which is not difficult, since so few of his customers actually pay for meals with their own money. A typical meal for two, with a bottle of wine, can cost £100. 'Basically, the people don't care. Nobody comes here and complains about the prices. I charge depending upon the food and what people are drinking, of course. People don't need to look at a piece of paper to decide what to eat. They have confidence in me.'

One afternoon, I noticed two women sitting at a table, each looking at something smooth and long and gold with red lettering. I approached their table and there were two menus, each written in French, English, and Chinese. Davé came to greet me, and I asked him why, after telling me how little regard he had for menus, those women had got them. He stared back at me and laughed. 'But they are nobodies,' he says. 'How could I possibly know what they want to eat?'

A year ago, the photographer Helmut Newton died in Los Angeles. His widow, June, and Anna Wintour, the editor of American Vogue , decided to hold a memorial service during the Paris haute couture shows in July. The service took place at the Theatre du Palais-Royal, just around the corner from Davé. Karl Lagerfeld, dressed in knee-high crocodile boots and a leather choker, was one of the speakers. Manolo Blahnik, Anouk Aimee, Charlotte Rampling, Jane Birkin and Mario Testino were there; Josephine Hart, and Stella McCartney flew in. Afterwards, 80 people were invited for spring rolls, spare ribs, and lemon chicken at Davé. 'My God, it's a fashion restaurant!' Blahnik screamed in mock horror as he stepped inside. 'Can you imagine anything more ridiculous than the concept of a fashion restaurant?'

Davé was upset by Newton's death - they were very close. 'We spent last Christmas together,' he says. 'June, Helmut, and me. Just the three of us. In the restaurant. I feel so sad.'

Slowly tonight's guests file in: Tom Ford, Donald Trump's fiancee, Melania Knauss (who was in town to hunt for a couture wedding dress), Pierre Berge, for many years Yves Saint Laurent's right-hand man. They all nod to Davé, whose eyes are brimming with tears. As people find the seats assigned to them, the telephone rings at Davé's podium.

'Yes,' he says. 'No. I can't. Not tonight. We are closed. 'Well, no,' he continues. 'I can't promise tomorrow. No. We are very busy. It's the fashion time, and we really don't have room for other people. '
OFM

· Davé, 12 Rue de Richelieu, Paris 1 (00 331 42 61 49 48)

Sabine Pigalle

enbabia — Sun, 14 Sep 2008 12:21:18 +0000

Sabine Pigalle nació en 1963 en Rouen (Francia). Estudió literatura francesa en la Sorbona de París, donde reside actualmente, antes de dedicarse a la fotografía de manera profesional. Trabajó cuatro años con el maestro Helmut Newton de quien seguro aprendió mucho a la hora de plasmar todo el glamour, elegancia y seducción que desprenden sus imágenes. Geishas con aires renacentistas,cuerpos casi sintéticos, una elegante crítica al mundo de la moda y unas recetas venenosas y ácidas constituyen el universo de esta inquieta artista.

Visto en cgunit

Música: Rokia Traoré "Dounia"

Bilder unter'm Hammer

parisoffice — Sat, 13 Sep 2008 11:15:42 +0000

Ein Termin für Sammler von Helmut Newton und anderen Fotoschätzen. Morgen kommen in Paris im Auktionshaus Piasa die Kollektion Patrick Roegiers unter dem Hammer. Der Ex-Theatermann und jahrelanger Fotokritiker der Le Monde trennt sich von einigen seiner Schätze. Diese beiden Bilder sind darunter:

Helmut Newton, PolaWomen: Violetta von 1991

Jan Saudek, Deep Devotion, 1980

Fotos: PIASA -Expert Yves Di Maria

Takashi and Kanye: a list of artist and musican collaborations

ginavivinetto — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 15:15:38 +0000

I just found out that famed Japanese visual artist Takashi Murakami has created animation for his first music video. Naturally it's for a song ("Good Morning") by Kanye West. Murakami has already designed album art for Kanye and the two are developing a clothing line together.

This isn't the first time a visual artist and a musician have worked together.

Indie rock superstars Sonic Youth famously dedicated space on each of their album covers to a burgeoning artist, dating back to 1986's Evol, which featured a still from a film by New York artist Richard Kern.

Later Sonic Youth albums featured recognizable work by Raymond Pettibon (Goo), Gerard Richter (Daydream Nation), Mike Kelly (Dirty) and Richard Prince (Sonic Nurse).

Other examples: Andy Warhol designed the cover for several albums including the Velvet Underground's first album with Nico, the Rolling Stones's Sticky Fingers and jazz guitarist Kenny Burrell's Blue Lights.

Blur used work by British artist Bansky for its Think Tank album. Metallica used work by controversial artist Andres Serrano for cover art on Load and ReLoad. (Serrano is the man who earned infamy over a piece depicting a crucifix floating in urine called Piss Christ).

Fashion designer Gianni Versace created Elton John's ornate cover for The One. Queen's News of the World cover was painted by award-winning sci-fi artist Frank Kelly Freas.

Did you know famed photographer Helmut Newton shot the classic cover of The Scorpions' Love at First Sting?

Newton also took the pic of Dale Bozzio that graces the cover of Missing Persons' Rhyme & Reason album. The band's video for "Surrender Your Heart" used imagery by pop artist Peter Max. Max also designed album cover art for Alice Coltrane and Badfinger.

Robert Mapplethorpe took the iconic shot of Patti Smith for the cover of her debut album Horses.

How weird is this? Classic American painter Norman Rockwell was the artist behind the cover art for The Live Adventures of Mike Bloomfield and Al Kooper.

Cartoonist Robert Crumb designed the album art for Big Brother and the Holding Company's Cheap Thrills.

Pin-up artist Alberto Vargas came out of semi-retirement to create the cover art for The Cars' Candy-O album.

How's this for cool? I actually own art by this artist: Kathie Olivas painted the cover for Girl In A Coma's Both Before I'm Gone.

Isn't this fun? Help me think of more.

Coffee Table Book (9) – « Paris 1962 » de Jerry Schatzberg – Chronique de livre pour Photosapiens

Catherine — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 14:23:18 +0000

Bonjour à toutes et à tous.

Je vous avais laissé en plan avec les Coffee Table Books, un peu par manque de temps, et aussi parce que j’avais une petite idée cachée derrière la tête.

En effet, les livres de photo, c’est quand même bien mon truc, et non contente de vous parler de mes grands classiques préférés, j’ai saisi une opportunité de pouvoir aussi vous parler des nouveautés qui sortent, en collaborant avec le site internet de photographie Photosapiens.

Si vous ne connaissez pas encore Photosapiens, je vous invite à y faire un tour. Vous verrez il y a plein de choses intéressantes à y découvrir quand on aime la photographie. Ce site a une double casquette. D’un côté une offre commerciale assez complète à l’usage des photographes professionnels qui souhaitent montrer leur travail et bénéficier de la performance technique, du professionnalisme et de l’audience d’une structure établie. Et de l’autre côté, une partie magazine qui est une mine d’information.

Je vous présente donc aujourd’hui ma première chronique de livre pour Photosapiens. Coup de chance, pour ce premier essai, j’ai eu entre les mains le livre Paris 1962 – Yves Saint-Laurent et Christian Dior – Les premières collections avec des photographies de Jerry Schatzberg, aux éditions Textuel. Mode et photographie, un couple harmonieux s’il en est …

Et voilà ce que j’en ai pensé …

« Paris 1962 – La mode comme une tragédie grecque

Janvier 1962, le magazine américain Esquire envoie à Paris le photographe Jerry Schatzberg pour un reportage sur les collections hautes couture Dior et Saint-Laurent. Le journal attend une vision nouvelle, un ton différent, des photographies qui bousculent les pratiques un peu compassées qui prévalent habituellement dans ce type d’exercice.

L’occasion s’y prête bien ! D’un côté, la collection Christian Dior de Marc Bohan, qui a pris les rênes de Christian Dior Londres en 1957, et remplacé Yves Saint-Laurent à la tête de Christian Dior Paris en 1958, après que ce dernier ait été appelé à servir sous les drapeaux. De l’autre côté, la première collection de la toute nouvelle maison Yves Saint-Laurent, fondée par Yves Saint-Laurent et Pierre Bergé, après que le couturier soit revenu de son service militaire sans retrouver sa place chez Christian Dior.

Lire la suite sur Photosapiens >>> »

Quelques images pour illustrer le propos ...

(c) Jerry Schatzberg / Les Editions Textuel, 2008

Et pour en voir et en savoir plus sur Jerry Schatzberg, son site personnel est ici.

Je remercie par avance celles et ceux qui me donneront leur avis sur le livre, ma bafouille, les photos de Jerry, Photosapiens, ...

Je vous souhaite une belle journée à toutes et à tous ;o)

Helmut Newton - Fashion and Sexappeal.

elinalukas — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 10:55:16 +0000

Helmut Newton is, by far, the most astonishing fashion photographer as far as I'm concerned. He had a long & quite difficult way up the ladder of professional sucsess, but it was worth it.

In the cold and drastic years of the WWII, Helmut managed to focus on his career. More to it, he brought a new, interesting & fascinating, way of doing fashion photos. Helmut added sexuality & sexappeal into fashion. His ways were provocative, but, in the end, gladly accepted by the public.

I also want to highlight the fact that Newton did not use dSLRs at all. He sticked to his trusty film SLR,

and produced fabulous photographs.

Helmut died 4 years ago, in 2004, but he will remain alive in his magnificent works.

[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="320" caption="Self-portraiture, Helmut Newton"][/caption]

expo Helmut Newton et ses chers paparazzis

harry wanders — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 20:24:30 +0000

Ce sont des instants volés qui ont fait le bonheur de la presse à scandales : l'actrice Romy Schneider assise nue sur le pont d'un bateau à cap Camarat (Var), en 1977 ; le chef d'orchestre allemand Herbert von Karajan avec sa fille sur une barque à Saint-Tropez en 1978, le visage fermé et sévère. Pour la première fois en Allemagne, une exposition rend hommage au travail des paparazzis, ces bad boys de la photographie qui satisfont le voyeurisme et l'exhibitionnisme de la société.
.....
"Pigozzi and the Paparazzi", Helmut Newton Foundation, Jebensstrasse 2, Berlin. Tél. (49-00) 30-3186-4856. Jusqu'au 16 novembre. Du mardi au dimanche, de 10 heures à 18 heures ; jeudi jusqu'à 22 heures. De 4 € à 8 €.

>>> Helmut Newton et ses chers paparazzis

The Interpretation of Fetish; Newton and Jones

Carl La Fong — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 06:25:23 +0000

London was a very interesting Fetish centre back in the late 70’s and most of the way though the 80’s as Fetish gradually moved out of the closet into pop culture. I haven’t been back in a long time, but I suspect the ‘mainstreaming’ of Fetish has made the real Fetish scene lose its cool vibe, and it’s now harder to find authentic interpretations of Fetish that haven’t been diluted by the “mainstreaming”.

Do you ever feel that once something comes out into the open, it’s hidden nature exposed for all to see, explore and use, you begin to lose interest? It’s something that occurred for me with Punk music, ‘underground’ movies, and the clubroom enjoyment of good cigars. And it damn nearly happened with Fetish.

But what “mainstreaming” into pop culture can never do is dampen the effects achieved by artists. I think that my realization that Fetish could aspire to the level of ‘Art’ began with Helmut Newton and Allen Jones. We all know Newton, but Jones might be less familiar to you. He truly “objectized” the women who form his sculptures and his work is very powerful and worth checking out. Photographer Bob Carlos Clark was another London artist whose Fetish explorations in the 80’s were really interesting. Punk poet Genesis P. Orridge’s interpretations of fetish were hallucinatory and dream-like – and recalled 19th century Fetish artist Aubrey Beardsley.

[caption id="attachment_41" align="aligncenter" width="150" caption="Aubrey Beardsley 1872-1898"][/caption]

Perhaps only in a cultural centre like London in the 80’s could Fetish be discussed at dinner parties in terms of Art – and those conversations, leaking as they did into the media, music and fashion worlds, created an acceptance of Fetish that took its styles into the mainstream. I remember being at a photo shoot for an early 80’s music group – where a dominatrix was photographed with the band, wielding a whip and wearing a snarl. The original music video for Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s “Relax” (now famously part of “Zoolander”) featured not one but two young Dominatrixes cracking bullwhips. In fact, the record company decided it was just a little too ‘fetish’ for public consumption and withdrew it. (But not before I made a tape!) I began to suspect that interpretations of Fetish of this sort, while they might be amusing and mildly interesting, could sink the scene entirely. Thankfully, I was wrong.

Fetish content, in the arts both “high” and “pornographic” has been documented as far back as the 4th century BC. That’s a lot of bondage and discipline, folks, so don’t for one minute think that your “interests” are novel or unusual. Today, Fetish content can be found with ease – but good Fetish content is rare. Fetish content fails when it is given a “mainstream” interpretation, and sadly too many content providers do just that.

My goal in launching The La Fong Archives and FemDom Fascination (along with the other niche sites I have cunningly planned) is to invoke the spirit of those artists, like Newton, Jones and Carlos Clark, who have interpreted Fetish in such a profoundly personal way that it becomes iconic.

[caption id="attachment_42" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption=""Chair" (1969) Allen Jones"][/caption]

The Newton Machine

carlamager — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 12:11:20 +0000

A Top Shop lançou uma campanha super bacana de interação com seus consumidores em suas lojas de Londres, Manchester e Dublin.

A idéia foi proporcionar aos clientes um “minuto” de fama. A Top Shop montou um set fotográfico onde os clientes apertavam um botão e tiravam sua foto a la modelo. As imagens estão postadas no site da ação e o cliente também levava uma de presente.

A origem desta ação está nos anos 70. “Helmut Newton veio com a idéia da 'The Newton Machine', um estúdio especial para tirar fotos sem a presença do fotógrafo”, explica a matéria do Springwise.com, fonte dessa nota.

Para entrar no site e ver as imagens da ação, clique aqui.

Μηχανή Νewton

tivlepo — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 16:00:00 +0000

Τα αγγλικά καταστήματα γρήγορης μόδας Topshop έδωσαν την ευκαιρία σε όποιον είχε τη διάθεση, να νιώσει για λίγο φωτομοντέλο. Έστησαν σε 3 καταστήματά τους την λεγόμενη Newton Machine, που είναι ουσιαστικά ένα σύστημα που είχε πρωτοστήσει πριν 30 χρόνια ο Helmut Newton και επέτρεπε στα φωτομοντέλα να τραβάνε μόνα τους φωτογραφίες. Κάτι τέτοιο υποτίθεται ότι απαλάσσει το αντικείμενο της φωτογράφισης από το βλέμμα του φωτογράφου και έτσι απελευθερώνεται. Στην περίπτωση του Topshop η εν λόγω μηχανή έδωσε την ευκαιρία στους πελάτες του να το παίξουν για λίγο super models και να βγάλουν τον καλύτερο εαυτό τους στο φακό. Έξυπνη ιδέα, δημιουργικό Marketing, με καλά αποτελέσματα που μπορείς να απολαύσεις στο www.newtonmachinetopshop.com

“Look, I'm not an intellectual - I just take pictures.”

cmtm. — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 19:57:06 +0000

Go Johnny Go | Pigozzi on Paparazzi

Sameer Reddy — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 15:47:30 +0000

Linea Italiana, Rome 1970's. (Helmut Newton)

Long before Steven Meisel was plumbing the depths of tabloid culture for satirical editorial spreads in Italian Vogue, influential photographers were zooming in on the subject of celebrity and presaging the paparazzi phenomenon that has overtaken pop culture. "Pigozzi and the Paparazzi," a show currently at the Helmut Newton Foundation in Berlin, blurs the line between art and commerce--and high and low--presenting the work of eight influential photographers with a unique perspective on the art of pursuing famous quarry. Spanning the 1920s to the current day, the timeline starts with Erich Solomon's secret shots of politicians and courtroom proceedings from the 20's and 30's--an ür-form for the genre, which extends into Weegee's starkly voyeuristic 40's street scenes. The 50's and 60's are represented by Edward Quinn and Tazio Secchiaroli's straightforward shots of film stars like Anita Ekberg, Sophia Loren and Grace Kelly (including Kelly's first date with Prince Rainier). Ron Galella, Daniel Angeli and Jean Pigozzi offer three approaches to visually skinning a high-profile catch with Galella's famous 'Surprise!' shots of Jackie O. that earned him a restraining order, while Angeli's telephoto images of Princess Diana morphed into the flashpoint for the controversy surrounding the potential danger of the paparazzi. Pigozzi, a successful businessman and consummate playboy, is the celebrities' photographer of choice, a member of their milieu whose chummy snapshots, often taken of him with his famous friends, pose no danger of real exposure. Newton, meanwhile, is the most meta of the bunch: his paparazzi-inspired work, including a 1967 story in British Vogue, beat Meisel to the punch by 40 years, proving that fashion photography's penchant for navel-gazing is deeper than we think.

“Pigozzi and the Paparazzi” runs through November 16th.

Jerry Hall, Jean Pigozzi and Mick Jagger, Paris 1978. (Jean Pigozzi)

Exposição no museu de fotografia de Berlim e os Paparazzi...

RauL — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 17:30:23 +0000

O que o museu de fotografia de Berlim e os Paparazzi tem em comum?

Uma mostra que inclui cerca de 350 fotografias das mais diversas celebridades como Mick Jagger, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Marlon Brando, e também de anônimos.

O museu mostra como a demanda por fotos de celebridades levou cada vez mais fotógrafos a perseguir personalidades e retratá-las em momentos indiscretos.

Segundo os organizadores, a partir dos anos 1960 e 1970 os paparazzi se tornaram parte inevitável da vida das celebridades.

“Nessa época, tudo que os fotógrafos precisavam era criatividade, rapidez, teimosia e uma pitada de atrevimento”, dizem os diretores do museu.

No entanto, e por incrível que pareça, os paparazzi não são um fenômeno tão recente assim.

Por exemplo, a mostra possui uma fotografia de 1931 retratando o então ministro das Relações Exteriores da França, Aristide Briand, em reunião privada. Essa fotografia foi feita por Erich Salomon, considerado um dos primeiros paparazzi.

O nome da mostra, Pigozzi e os Paparazzi, homenageia um outro pioneiro, o fotógrafo Jean Pigozzi.

A exposição também demonstra que o estilo ousado dos paparazzi influenciou a moda e a fotografia artística, como mostram obras do fotógrafo Helmut Newton.

Pra quem mora na Alemanha ou estiver passeando por lá durante essas férias, A mostra Pigozzi e os Paparazzi fica em cartaz no museu de fotografia de Berlim até o dia 16 de novembro de 2008.

MourningSerial_07

cohort — Sat, 28 Jun 2008 09:05:52 +0000

I could still smell the ocean through the exhaust of the idling limos and sidewalk sausage grilling on Yawkey. The game was scheduled to start at 7:05 PM, I made it there at 6:55. Traffic was the usual mess but me and the Indian nabbed a sweet commercial space gone civilian, over by the museum. Nice walk over too. From the look of the brooding sky and humid late June breeze blowing in over the Fenway, I was probably looking at a rain-delayed start....

I wandered into the store after having my ticket scanned at a gate A turnstyle, this time their wanding didn't bleep my ankles.... When I was a kid I never entered on the Yawkey side of the park; the best I could ever do was the Landsdown side entrance— bleacher seats, sunburn and segregated park access.

"Can I help you with anthing, Sir?" offered the leggy women in the striking outfit. Her voice was sweet but sonorous like a really fine very dry mead; behind the glass display counters filled with baseball ephemera I noticed her curious heels and Redsox colors.

"Ahh, you know how it goes, just lookin', but thanks doll," I growled, softly.

"You know, I hear that hundreds of times a day but...." pausing as she turned her sculpted back to me, fixing a slightly bent Boston Braves hat, her lowrise mini revealing a New York Yankees tattoo, the one with the bat, nestled in the small of her back, "you Sir, actually seem to mean it," she continued turning her head, looking over her left shoulder, dark eyes locked on my eyes, which were unfortunately locked on her tattoo, like Manny on a piece of center plate cheese. Stand tall and watch it soar.

Deciding I had the time and no better way to recover from my guilty gaze, I mildly screamed like a hormonal teenager: "She has a Yankees tattoo! She has a Yankees tattoo!" pointing and grimacing at her, here amidst the merchandising realm of all that is Redsox.

Impressed, the Yankee Babe smiled, waved to the few people who bothered to look her way and stepped toward me leaning over the glass, presenting me with a pair of fuzzy baseball dice. "Ding Ding, you win! That sure is funny way to tell a lady you like her new tattoo," she smoldered sweetly tilting her head and her long black and red hair flouncing about her shoulder.

"Well, actually.... Viv, I don't like your tattoo. Nope not one bit....well may....nah, I don't really care for tattoos. Especially ones located their.... Girlfriend, that is just too obvious," I tisk-tisked looking her straight in the chest with my tongue hanging slightly out of my mouth, my finger wagging like a Crazy Cat tail on a neon lit dinner wall clock.

"Oh, right. I understand. Your one of them classy Joes," she says as she sticks out her unusually long and expressive tongue, curls the tip and strings the fuzzy baseballs dice from her pearl tongue piercing! Shocking me into biting my own tongue, in a sort of complex, weird involuntary gag reflex, something out of a Jerry Lewis movie, I trip over the carpet and stumble like a hobo into a oblivious and passing group of shoppers.

"Damn it Viv," springing up and pressing my manicured finger tips against the glass counter for grounding, "what in the hell are you doing with the beyond-yesterday primitivistic shite?" I asked in an confused huff, straightening my tie and mammoth bone cufflinks.

"Well big boy, gimme a chance and let's find out together," she pauses a beat then bumps out in front a tick with: "You ain't seen but half of it, and.... you clearly," adjusting my tie with her long painted yet strangely dry hands "don't know how I operate." Leaning back slightly on her heels against the counter, arms akimbo, legs visibly flexed beneath silken whipped cream white sanitary stockings rising out of red leather stirrups chemically welded then punched into what could have only been marine brass three pronged five inch spike heels. She's been busy I thought. The bite of those things would put the spike of any cleat to shame. They looked like something that leapt out of a crackersjackers Helmut Newton attired baseball shoot. How do you walk in those things....

"Wow, I did not think you were going in that direction, ever going to ever, do that," I said looking at some old trading cards under glass while pinching my tongue between my left thumb and pinkie ringed finger "thaths jus godstha hurt, babe," I symphathisized sloppily my hair falling across my cocker spaniel eyes as I looked over at Viv.

"Yah, I'm full of surprises and empty of inhibition.... Hey, I never thought you'd get that freakish implant either Coop. So you goin' to the game, you meeting Braid?" she asked relaxed, front fading, wiping the spiddle off of my lower lip scar with my silked cotton bandana, her eyes wide.

"Yah, should be if he shows, have...."

Interrupting she spurted out, "He'll be there, he wouldn't miss it.... I mean. Hey is Cocoa with you....Coop, I been hearing some stuff about a package, a blimp, some stuff....," looking around the store at the cameras and flow of fans she lowered her voice to lipglossed whisper, "He'll be in his usual spot in front of the mural down third base side. He'll have his tooth on so...."

Interrupting and taking back my bandana, "Great, that'll be swell then. I really need to talk with him." I was hoping this gesture would confuse things and avoid the momentum I could feel building toward the latenight rendezvous with Viv that she and maybe even I would regret, quickly asking "so is the Japanese stuff still selling or what?" emphasizing the what with a hardness.

"Oh, yah I guess," she said "the Japanese who show up here actually buy the regular stuff, it's the college kids that tend to buy the Japanese language stuff," voiced musically as she brushed off her leather skirt, "kids love different stuff, exciting stuff," extending and splaying her fingers, red nails glinting, pressing down on her skirt with her palms arching, pulling up just enough to reveal her white stockings corseted and terminated with alloyed steampunkish garters, "So how about after we meet...."

"Yes. Absolutely." I found myself blurting out, between hand fulls of popcorn from the clueless kid standing beside me, he drooling, over a 1950-ish Ted Williams Topps, me over the peek I got through the glass counter at Viv's gams and wares.

"The usual place?" she asked also taking some popcorn from the kids carton nibbling on a puff as though she were Harry Bailey's new wife standing aside the steam rising locomative just having arrived in Bedford Falls.

"OK." I agreed, "But, I, we, will be there no earlier than midnight, Viv."

"Swell, Coop. Your a genius in research. We'll have a real nice, or maybe not so nice," snapping her fingers "morning. Hopefully you'll get to the bottom of this mystery," she smiled glancing down her hips as she starts to rock down the aisle, nibbling popcorn, backward glancing, trailing the long column of glass counters, her triple spiked heels clicking and softly grinding on the concrete floor, a raggtimey dub, nails scratching randomly at the vintage repro apparel, mannequin, old man, hangers tinkling, counterpoint mixed laughter and chatter, a cheer....the bustle of this dame, my partner, amidst this hardball emporium.

Helmut Newton x Topshop

Adrian. The Esoteric — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 19:23:33 +0000

Only Just heard about this just today!
Topshop doing some promotion thingy with Helmut Newton

Staged in a bespoke photographic studio in Topshop Oxford Circus, Manchester and Dublin we will showcase Helmut Newton’s most treasured piece of photographic equipment. Working with the Helmut Newton Estate, Topshop will help bring this original 70’s photographic concept into the modern day by recreating the Helmut Newton Photo Machine instore for customers to create their own fashion moment. You can be a photographer, model and stylist, all in one. Simply walk in, pose and press a button.

HELMUT NETWON x TOPSHOP

Helmut Newton

christian — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 17:49:09 +0000

Wieso habe ich eigentlich nie etwas über Helmut Newton geschrieben ? Dabei gibt es so viel über den 2004 verstorbenen Fotografen zu berichten.

Z.b über die Ausstellung in Bremen die schlicht und einfach "Helmut Newton – Fotografien" heißt und einiges zu bieten hat .

In den 70er Jahren erscheinen mit "White Women", "Sleepless Nights" und "Big Nudes" die ersten Bildbände Newtons, die seinen Rang als künstlerischen Fotografen begründen. Diese großformatigen Akten "Big Nudes“ sind in dieser Ausstellung zu sehen und mehr darunter Portraits von Stars wie Naomi Campbell oder Schauspielerin Monica Bellucci.
Werke aus einer in dieser Form noch nie gezeigten Bremer Privatsammlung. Die Ausstellung läuft noch bis zum 31.Dezember 2008. Mehr Informationen gibt es hier.

Wer gerade in Berlin ist sollte einen Blick in die Helmut Newton Stiftung werfen.

Dort wird mit rund 350 Schwarz-Weiß- und Farbbildern den "Bad Boys" der Fotografie erstmals in Deutschland eine so umfangreiche Schau gewidmet. Eröffnet wird die Ausstellung "Pigozzi and the Paparazzi" am Abend des 19. Juni. Die Ausstellung läuft bis 16. November. Zur Gallerie der Bad Boys hier entlang.

Wer noch nicht genug hat sollte auf jeden Fall einen Sprung in die Charlottenstrasse 57 machen und die Newton Bar besuchen.

Foto von Ziggy Star**** auf flickr

Um dort im stilvollen Ambiente in einen der roten Ledersesseln ein Cocktail zu genießen.

Für die dessen Destination London, Manchster oder Dublin ist, kann ich nur Empfehlen in ein TopShop zu gehen, nicht nur wegen der Mode sondern wegen der Möglichkeit die Helmut Newton Photo Machine auszuprobieren.

Und sei Stück der fotografischen Geschichte. Newton is overall !

Helmut Newton photo machine

Nardjisse — Sat, 14 Jun 2008 17:50:13 +0000

photo : Topshop

J'adore l'idée ! Pas vous ?

Smoking - Helmut Newton

ivosousa — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 16:18:30 +0000

Link to a book about Helmut Newton Work (Amazon)

http://www.helmut-newton.de/

http://www.smb.spk-berlin.de/newteng/htm/hn_frameset.htm

Exposição "Vogue à la Mer"

carlamager — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 10:51:11 +0000

George Hoyningen-Huene, Peter Lindbergh, Henry Clarke, Helmut Newton, Terry Richardson, Franco Rubartelli, David Sims, Guy Bourdelle, Mario Testino, Bert Stern, Mario Sorrentina e Ines Van Amsweerde são alguns dos fotógrafos respeitados do século XX que assinam as fotos do coletivo “Vogue à la Mer”. Mas por aí já dá para perceber o “peso” profissional e artístico da exposição.

“Vogue à la Mer” é uma retrospectiva de fotos externas, clicadas em paisagens litorâneas e veiculadas na Vogue. Por refletir a evolução dos costumes do século XX, a exposição é uma mistura de moda e cultura.

Pra quem estiver com viagem planejada para a Normandia, entre os dias 14 de junho e 14 de setembro, vale colocar o elegante balneário de Deauville no roteiro de viagem. Pra quem não vai, mas quer “ver“ a exposição fotográfica que acontece no Planches de Deauville, o livro com as imagens está à venda e custa 39 euros.

Moda- El Esmoquin femenino cortesia de Yves Saint Laurent (YSL)

rosarusa — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 15:41:03 +0000

foto Helmut Newton, 1975

Modelo con Esmoquin de Yves Saint Laurent

El modisto YSL ha pasado a la historia de la moda y la costura por ser un gran innovador en la forma de vestir a la mujer, en su trayectoria profesional destacan la creacion de la linea trapecio cuando aun trabajaba en la casa Dior y el esmoquin femenino en 1966 en una coleccion propia. Fue tambien el primer modisto en sacar una linea pret-a-porter contribuyendo a lo que despues se ha llamado la democratizacion de la moda.

Para apreciar la importancia del esmoquin como prenda femenina hay que recordar que "los pantalones" no fueron siempre una prenda para mujeres.

En 1965 habia locales que prohibian la entrada a mujeres "con pantalones", YSL introdujo el pantalon como prenda de alta costura para la mujer de forma que el pantalon paso a ser una prenda elegante y aceptada socialmente como "prenda femenina".

En 1968 YSL tambien se atrevio con las transparencias en la alta costura.

YSL Dentro de la costura: La linea A, la sahariana, los elementos etnicos, el esmoquin femenino.

YSL Dentro de "la moda": El pret-a-porter (toda una revolucion porque es el comienzo de lo que actualmente es "la moda")

En 2002 : La casa de costura Yves Saint Laurent celebra sus 40 años y tambien el mismo año la despedida de YSL del mundo de la costura con un desfile en el Centre Pompidou.

Con YSL tambien comenzo la union Arte y Moda porque fue el primer modisto que pudo ver sus trajes en un museo cuando en 1983 el Metropolitan Museum de Nueva York (MET) le dedico una exposicion sobre 25 años de trabajo en la moda. En 1968 fue la primera vez que YSL aparecio dentro del entorno del arte cuando una galeria en Londres expuso "sus bocetos de los diseños".

Hace poco en La Coruña hubo una exposicion sobre YSL (en otra entrada aqui)

esmoquin.

(Del ingl. smoking).

1. m. Prenda masculina de etiqueta, de menos ceremonia que el frac, a modo de chaqueta sin faldones.

Pagina de la Fundacion Pierre Berge - Yves Saint Laurent (donde puedes ver toda la historia de YSL y fotos de sus creaciones desde 1958): http://www.fondation-pb-ysl.net

Before TERRY and KERN

superblind — Mon, 02 Jun 2008 13:22:07 +0000

Before Terry Richardson and Richard Kern shot PORN, reigned a Fashion photographer like no other in his time. Setting the industry on FIRE with his provacitive imagery, HELMUT NEWTON changed the way we view photography and the craft.