black and white

Me And My Arrow

In the mid-1980s I started visiting downtown Los Angeles with my new Nikon camera. Back then few folks were living down there so it was a ghost town at night and on weekends. The bustling nightlife of gentrified nightclubs and bars would happen decades later. Old buildings were not rehabbed yet and many of their upper floors were occupied by pigeons and rats.
 
 
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Only Broadway, the produce, and garment districts were alive with immigrant businesses, sweatshops, and sidewalk commerce. It was here that I fell in love with old signage– busted neon tubes hanging off old storefronts, faded names of long gone businesses painted on the upper floor windows, and ghost signs magically appearing when beautiful old buildings were demolished for parking lots.
 
 

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I’d walk the streets with my Nikon, capturing forgotten signage, street life, building details, and long closed store fronts.

Proof Sheet DTLA

One day I was driving thru the back alleys of what would much later be called the Arts District, looking for a spot to park and walk around, when I came upon a pile of old signs in an empty lot: twisted metal, broken neon tubes, shattered plastic, smashed light bulbs.

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I snapped a few photos and started to walk away. Then I recalled something I read about Walker Evans, my photo hero and the master photographer of storefront and signage.  Evans loved signage so much that eventually he decided to stop taking pictures of signs and just take the signs themselves. I turned back and rummaged thru the heap of signs.
 
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Most were junked beyond repair or too large for one lug to lug.  But then I saw it, an arrow, its bulbs still screwed to sockets but glass long smashed. It was battered and weathered but fantastic looking. I managed to yank it free from the other signs, then I picked it up and jammed it in my ride.
 
 
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The arrow sat outside my door for years until one day I wondered if it was possible to relight it… I decided it was time to do what Walker Evans did, bring the sign inside. These days my arrow lights up a dark little corner of my house. I only regret never going back to rescue more pearls from the junkpile, especially the Jesus Saves and a liquor sign or two.
 
 
 
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Spotted

Our latest CD Holder is handmade from a groovy graphic record cover back.

¡Adios Pastrami Burrito!

Kosher Burrito blog

The Kosher Burrito once stood on 1st Street between Los Angeles City Hall and Little Tokyo. (Yep, that’s the New Otani in the background.) I snapped this shot with my old 2 1/4 Spartus in the 90’s before it was gone for good in 2002.

Picture a simple lunch counter/ burger stand with a few stools that offered up a cross between Mexican and deli food such as the famed Kosher Burrito which was filled with pastrami, mustard, chili, pickles and onions. Word has it they had pretty good burgers too.

All in the backdrop of Little Tokyo. Only in Los Angeles. Just archive it in the ever expanding file of terrific things that aren’t here anymore.

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We are still left with a few “Mexicatessens” around town– joints that serve Mexican food and hamburger style grub. While amusing and promising in name, the reality is a far cry from the Kosher Burrito.

So Close and Yet So Noir…

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Over 5 years ago, we challenged ourselves to track down and watch every film noir made back in the day when noir was noir. It’s been a fun yet bumpy ride mapping our way through cross referenced lists to find rare cinematic gems and plain old lemons. We’ve scoured public libraries, the internet, local video stores, and film noir fests. Now we’re closing in on completing the list.

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But thankfully, there’s always unexpected noirs popping up like weeds wanting their day in the sun. So the challenge continues. At this point, it would be heartbreaking to take a powder on the nightly noir habit.

Luckily, we’ve amassed quite a DVD collection for the dry spells. It was that tippy stack of DVDs that inspired the making of a worthy home for them. We found a couple discarded noir-ish LP covers and worked up a plan for a dapper homemade DVD Case. Over time, we perfected the construction and began selling the one-of-a-kind Upcycled DVD Holder Books.

Recently, we came across this album cover which inspired the making of our latest 52 DVD Holder Book to hit the Etsy shop.

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Inside pocket pages are sewn from repurposed card stock printed with original photography, street art imagery and graphics in keeping with the noir theme.

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Now you too can stylishly tote your film noir library through life’s mean streets.

Meanwhile, we’re hoping to cross a couple more noirs off the list at the San Francisco Noir City 2016, taking us one step closer to wrapping up our challenge… or maybe just a couple films deeper into the shadows.

Gorky’s Was There First – With Borscht & Brew

Several decades before the reinvention of downtown Los Angeles into a loftified art walk circus, the place was dead at night.  Dead and scary with zombie crack addicts and also sad and lonely with one of America’s most populated tent city homeless encampments.  Today every classic joint has been purchased and reinvented by well-oiled club magnates and skid row is planted with 8am-midnight parking meters.  But back then, few ventured downtown at night.  There was Al’s Bar, a spotty arts district and Gorky’s.  Gorky’s, a 24 hour restaurant serving hardy eastern European soul food and their own brew.  Craft beer in the heart of downtown LA decades before the term craft beer was even thought of my a few yuppie entrepreneurs.  But downtown Los Angeles got a lot worse before it got better and Gorky’s didn’t make the cut.  All the facts are contained in a long ago published article in the LA Times that’s still available if you follow this link.

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Sometimes I wonder if Gorky’s even existed.  But then I  found this shot hidden away in an old box of negatives.  Someone wearing a Gorky’s tee shirt.  That sight inspired a mind’s eye vision of visiting Gorky’s late one night for the stew.  It was freezing outside, my breath a frozen cloud in front of my face.   Long Live Gorky’s!  Long Live deserted downtown LA, where the produce market bar rocked and rolled every morning until 9am.  Now that was some good time.

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stripeycity says hello & goodbye

We now only have memories of San Francisco’s Original Joe’s dim bar & massive plates of spaghetti, drowning in red sauce or clams.  Damn the fire bugs that destroyed it and mourn the loss of the joint’s brick facade and its dark, musty bar, site of a thousand cocktails and glasses of red wine long before the age of the mixologist.

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