Two Afternoons with Madame Christine Argillet, daughter of Salvador Dali's long-time editor

This article was originally printed in RVA Mag #25. The accompanying web article can be found here.

A young Christine Argillet with Dali in Spain. Image acquired from Mme. Argillet and Chasen Galleries, RIchmond

A young Christine Argillet with Dali in Spain. Image acquired from Mme. Argillet and Chasen Galleries, RIchmond

The infamous Salvador Dalí (1904-1989) has graced Richmond with yet another short visit. Recalling his extended stay in Bowling Green, Virginia from 1940-41 at Caresse Crosby’s Hampton Manor estate, along with his (then) preposterous proposal for a sculpture on Monument Avenue in 1966, Dalí has appeared in the city on several occasions. From the 23rd-30th of this past April, Chasen Galleries on West Cary St. exhibited the private collection of Dalí’s publisher and confidant of more than 50 years, Pierre Argillet. Dalí met M. Argillet before the Second World War through the Surrealist circle of artists and writers in Amsterdam. After the war, they reunited to embark on over a decade of fruitful projects and exhibitions. I had the distinct opportunity to speak with Pierre’s daughter, Mme. Christine Argillet—curator of the collection, as well as a premiere scholar of Surrealism—on topics surrounding her father’s working relationship with Dalí, and her own childhood experiences with the artist. She explains, “This presentation of Dalí: The Argillet Collection is a tribute to the work of my father, Pierre Argillet, as an extraordinary publisher of the Dada and Surrealist group. This collection reflects a constant endeavor, a very personal archive of not only Dalí’s finest etchings and tapestries, but an intimate glimpse into my family’s personal and cherished photos, films, anecdotes and memories of life with Dalí and [his wife] Gala.”

While most of us are familiar with Dalí’s early painting career, recognizing notable pieces like The Persistence of Memory (1931) and The Great Masturbator (1929), the Argillet Collection provides great insight into his post-war productivity. Mme. Argillet explains, “There was this long maturation for the body of work we have here. [With] the exception of three drawings which are older, these are all mostly works of the 60s.” Influenced by the work of notable writers, artists, and popular figures outside of the Surrealist tradition, its evident where Dalí uses his own iconographies to comment on many cultural and political themes. Each of the eight series in the exhibition were curated by suite—Mythologies, Faust, Bullfights, Venus in Furs, Apollinaire, Mao Zedong, Don Juan, and Hippies—as well as a suite of ceramic vessels and two large tapestries. The Argillet Collection captures a number of stylistic developments in Dalí’s works on paper. As Mme. Argillet points out, “There is really a shift in his work… [from the early] 60s where it’s very meticulously drawn like the Mythologies, to the end of the 60s where its very spontaneous.” She explains, “In the beginning of the 60s, he would throw acid on covered plates, and then draw around the abstract shape created by this motion, being inspired by the given smudge. Then we have the mid-60s where he reworks Picasso’s Bullfight series… [he] brings this sort of burlesque, humorous touch because he didn’t like the bullfights so he made fun of them.” Then in the late 60s, his Hippies series was the “most immediate and spontaneous of them all”—at times he would mark the plate without even a sketch.

Mme. Argillet explains, “Fifteen years ago, I had a gallery in Los Angeles when I first came to the US for two years, and then my father passed away, and I closed the gallery. After, I had the luck to meet someone who organized exhibitions for me, and it was exactly what I wanted, to have this collection travelling to museums… we have had beautiful exhibitions in different countries. In the US, I made donations to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, too. This agent brought me to good galleries, and that was the idea, to have this collection in museums and with galleries… and to keep these works together as much as possible.”

Pierre Argillet with Dali. Image acquired from Mme. Argillet and Chasen Galleries, RIchmond

Pierre Argillet with Dali. Image acquired from Mme. Argillet and Chasen Galleries, RIchmond

AH: What brought Dalí and your father together after the war? What halted their working relationship after 15 years of publications?

MA: Dalí was so happy to escape the disaster in Europe, that’s the reason my father reconnected with him not before the end of the 50s. When my father restarted to work with him, he decided to put aside the other artists to work with Dalí. It brought him much pleasure to work with Dalí… they were great friends! So, that’s why a large part of the work shown here is from the 60s. Then in 1973, Dalí said to my father, “I cannot etch anymore, it’s too much work, my eyes water after 5-10 minutes… I cannot work on a copper plate because it’s so shiny; the work is too small and tedious…  I have to finish projects and paintings… I would like you to go for lithographs and printing afters.” My father said, “No, never, I have beautiful, genuine original etchings that you did working directly on the copper plate. I don’t want anything that would be “afters” with a photographic medium in-between. For me, it has no more interest than a poster, and if you don’t mind, we stop our publications here. But let’s remain friends.” And they remained very good friends, my father organized a huge Dalí exhibition in Moscow at the Pushkin Museum in 1980, one year before Dalí passed away… he did not come because he was ill at the time—but it was prepared by Dalí, I saw those meetings. They went on some projects, but our collection stopped in 1973, and we are very happy for that, because later on there were a lot of problems with the lithographs that were over produced and over numbered—so that is why we are safe and happy with that.

AH: How did your father become involved with this line of work?

MA: He started as a journalist very early on, he was very lucky that the first years where he was involved in journalism, a very well read guy involved with the surrealist movement took him to his various events and happenings… they were great friends until the end of his life. My father had no family to take him to those exhibitions and new movements… he completely opened [my father’s] eyes. [His working relationships with artists] started with Jean Arp, who was a great friend of Andre Breton (leader of the Surrealist movement)… and that took him to Marcel Duchamp, and then from Duchamp to Dalí, then to other associated writers and philosophers.

AH: Did your father identify as a surrealist?

MA: I would say that he was a very free thinker, but at the end of his life he was always telling me, he was 92 when he passed away, “Oh, it's not like Surrealism”—nostalgic of that time. You know, when you are so part of a movement and have seen all that, and then people pass away one after another… its quite difficult I would say, quite sad for him… but yes, he was very linked to Surrealism. We had long talks about this, but I had difficulty taking him out of [the melancholy]. I’d tell him ,“Why don’t you come out and see, there is a beautiful exhibition here,” he’d reply, “I don’t want to see anything anymore I saw so many things!” That’s the age I think, but he was very linked to Surrealism, that was his passion… and I think it became difficult for him to escape from that dream world, to deprogram himself. I think he appreciated very much the freedom of the time, the challenges… it would push him to work more, and do things that weren’t always easy with Dalí and with others, to push certain limits. He had a very rich and full life in that time of Surrealism, and I think probably he stayed with that, I’m quite sure.

AH: Did you hear any details about Dalí’s excommunication from the Surrealist circle by the movement’s leader, Andre Breton?

MA: Yes! What I heard from my father was, Breton wanted to frame anyone in that movement in a very strict way. Dalí was a Surrealist, probably more-so than many of the other artists of the movement, but he wanted to be free. And for that reason, I think Dalí came to a big meeting in Paris wearing about 20 pullover sweaters, one over the other. Each time Breton said something against him he would take off one of the pullovers… and they went like that with all 20. Then he left the scene, and was no more a part of the movement... that was around the end of the 30s. My father tried to reconnect them during the 60s, but that never happened, and I think that Breton had become very bitter because a lot of artists had run away from him because of his [unwavering] idea of Surrealism… whoever didn’t fit in his own vision wouldn’t be part of it… and that was a little bit sad, especially for Breton. Dalí was certainly not the type of guy to be limited in something.

AH: What can you tell me about Dalí’s creative process? Were there any ritualistic elements?

MA: Ritualistic, I wouldn’t say so… other than he was always whistling. His idea was always to change with the topic he was working on. For instance, even in the late 60s, he would read for a long time on the Faust series, on Apollinaire’s poems, he would read about Mao Zedong very much. He knew poems by heart in many languages… pages, entire pages. Then in a movement, like the flow of a calligrapher, he would work very spontaneously and let his imagination go… and in a way his imagination and ideas connected without him being totally controlling. He would love to be controlling and not controlling, work in-between those, let it naturally fill itself in. [Some of] his most happy moments that I noticed [were] when he saw connections that appeared in his works that he would notice afterwards. Yes, in the beginning of the 60s he would throw acid, but other times he would use nails, scissors, roulettes, it had no end. For the Medusa, he even used a real octopus that was there on the shore in front of his house in Spain. I saw him take the animal, put it in the acid and onto the copper plate so it printed its own shape.

Medusa, etching by Dali. Image acquired from Mme. Argillet and Chasen Galleries, RIchmond

Medusa, etching by Dali. Image acquired from Mme. Argillet and Chasen Galleries, RIchmond

AH: Do you recall any specific topics of conversation between your father and Dalí about the relation of art and literature?

MA: You know, they were very close, and so they would exchange books quite often. In 1968, my father found the beautiful poems of Mao Zedong [in a Parisian bookstore], which he did not know existed until that time. He brought them to Dalí who said, “That’s extraordinary, I didn’t know this guy had done poetry!”. It’s from there that [these projects] started. So often, they were exchanging books and ideas—when my father proposed Venus in Furs, Dalí was excited. But sometimes my father proposed things that didn’t resonate with Dalí at that moment, or through his views; and Dalí proposed things to my father who was not enthusiastic about this or that, so it depended. But they had this free, back and forth, watching happenings, going to them together, or organizing them… my father did this many times, so they had those exchanges of, “You should see this or that,” and then they would discuss.

Behind his public persona, which was a bit crazy, he was shy… he would overcompensated [in public]… my father was always afraid of where it was going to lead! But Dalí was very bright, very well read, and with a sort of pirouette he would come back. I think the public persona does not reflect at all who he was, he was a very easy-going simple person, but outside you saw a different man. At home he was totally different… extremely human, simple, and charming. That’s something which has always touched me retrospectively, thinking of that proximity he had with everyone, and the way he would talk to the taxi driver asking if he had seen his last show, here and there, telling that he should come… you know everyone was important for him, and I haven’t seen that in [many people] or in most artists. He had this vision that he had to talk to everyone to be universal, so I think that’s the best souvenir that I have of him is this openness to everyone, taking everyone on the same level. I think he had this intelligence to know that what is finally very important is the human nature over whatever you create artificially around yourself; so he had this vision, but in public he would not show that unfortunately.

AH: What are your thoughts on developing journalists and writers alongside artists?

MA: I think that sometimes the combination is marvelous because one corresponds with and complements the other, which is extremely beneficial. In the time of Surrealism, I think that many writers were there—like Paul Eluard and Andre Breton—and they would bring another complement of what a painter or etcher would do, and in that sense I think it was allowing everyone to go further on their own path… but in many cases, it distracts. I remember Giorgio DeCirco, I think it was in 1971 in Venice, Italy, and he had been shown a film on Kandinsky and he said, “If I had known so well Kandinsky’s works before, I might have not been able to do what I did because it would have lead me somewhere else and distracted me from my own path. So, I think Dalí was, for most of his life, very strong in his own research. [When you have a movement like Surrealism, there’s] an eclecticism so spread that it’s difficult to see [now]. But in those times, they would go to a café in Paris, they would agree or disagree, very strongly… next day in the newspapers you would see something against this one, and they would answer with another newspaper. In those times, everything was possible to be said… yet there existed this underlying respect for everyone’s freedom of thought. There were also very strong quarrels, but that brought fuel to the debate, so it was beautiful. It’s ok to be upset with one another and have different views, it’s a learning experience. Now it’s different unfortunately, a different way of life where everybody is connected but people are not together. When you are in front of a computer, you don’t have to listen to someone and envision another point of view, or cope with another point of view... you say yes or no I don’t want this or I want that, so you don’t have this possibility of deconstructing and constructing yourself in the same way. It’s what is missing nowadays… it might be uncomfortable, but you have to face this discomfort and reflect on it. We need a contradictory eye sometimes to challenge and defend our thoughts. Truth lives in different ways, it is so important for people to envision something else, otherwise the learning process through life is held back.

I was fortunate to have my former professor and mentor, Richard Stamelman (and his Leica), along for my second visit with Mme. Argillet. Richard is a Professor Emeritus of Romance and Comparative Literatures at Williams College, and the former Executive Director of the Kenneth and Harle Montgomery Endowment at Dartmouth College. He now teaches a variety of modernist art, literary and cultural topics at William and Mary, and takes photos over his travels and spare time.

christineargilletgallery.com/

chasengalleries.com/

Richmond institution, Joe Seipel, retires as Dean of VCU Arts

This article was originally printed in RVA Mag #25 in Summer of 2016. The accompanying web article can be found here.

Photo by Patrick Biedrycki

Photo by Patrick Biedrycki

As of this past week, the beloved Dean of VCU’s School of the Arts, Joe Seipel, has retired from his 42-year relationship with the University. Seipel has served as dean for the past five years, following numerous academic teaching and leadership positions. His liberal and innovative visions of contemporary academia, especially in a society that has largely turned higher education into a business, have left a refreshing impression on the lives of thousands of students and faculty. A cherished supporter of the city’s creative communities, Seipel has been a local institution since the early 70s. As co-owner of the former Texas Wisconsin Border Café (now Bellytimber Tavern), Seipel’s hand extended to the city’s casual culture in hosting the camaraderie that resulted in various bands, partnerships, and artistic endeavors throughout the years. Congratulations Joe, we are sad to see you go, but know you won’t be far.

AH: Can you give an overview of your time at VCU?

JS: In 1974 I was hired at VCU on a one-year contract as an instructor. Back then, they hired people as “instructors”, a one year contract for up to three years. Then two years into that, they asked if I wanted to stay on as a tenure track faculty, so I did. Then I was just an instructor and assistant professor at the school in the sculpture department. I think in about 1981-82 I became chair of the sculpture department and remained chair for 17 and ½ years, and then I spent 8 ½ years as the Senior Associate Dean and Director of all the graduate programs at the School of the Arts. Then the head hunters came and asked if I was interested in looking at another position, so I ended up being the Vice President of the Savannah College of Art and Design, and I did that for two years. Then my former boss at VCU, Dean Rick Toscan, retired to everyone’s surprise. A different set of head hunters then came and asked if I would be interested in throwing my hat in the ring here, so I did, and I got the job. March was my five-year anniversary of being Dean, kind of a five-year plan.

AH: Why did you choose to leave for Savannah?

JS: Well, Rick Toscan was the Dean here, he was terrific, we were good friends, he was a great mentor… but I was just looking for a little more responsibility. I had been Senior Associate Dean for 8 ½ years, and I wondered what the next step would be since I had already gotten into this administrative trail. So when they asked me, and it was a Vice President’s position, I thought well, that would be interesting. I’d been at VCU for 42 years, so I actually retired from VCU and then went to Savannah as their Vice President… and then un-retired for the second time to come back as Dean.

AH: At that time, how would you say VCU Arts compared to SCAD?

JS: They were very different. SCAD is an art school that’s an art school. Actually, when I got down to Savannah, I didn’t expect this to happen, I missed being at a big University with all my friends in pharmacology, the engineering program, at the business school, and down at the medical center. I missed all these connections… I missed going out and have a coffee or beer and talk to people of different disciplines. Also, thinking about the opportunities you have with an art school in the middle of a comprehensive research university… you know we’ve been doing a lot of research across disciplines. It’s so much fun, quite terriffic, I think that’s where everything is moving. A lot of interesting new knowledge is happening right between disciplines, so the arts can be really vital players in that. The biggest thing I have had to do, and hopefully I have been somewhat successful at, is getting the other disciplines to understand how important it is to get the arts involved in their research early on. I’ve worked with the engineering school a long time, and there was a time when they thought that the engineers would build it, and then we smear art over the top of it, but that’s not like that at all. So, what you want to do is get in early so this whole notion of how we generate ideas, and how we allow ideas to be a little free form. So if you can get art into the research early, I think that actually changes it in the many ways researchers look at a problem. We’ve had great success on several occasions… where our students, first of all they are fearless, and secondly they don’t look at the end of a problem in a straight line. If it changes a little bit you might follow it this way, or follow it that way. They are more apt to change the way a problem is approached. So if you’re working in medicine, in engineering, or business we don’t necessarily know the specifics of that, but we can come into it with a fresh mind, and often times valuable partners in the research. We still have some silo issues here, but we are very much starting to get some porosity.

 

AH: Could you give a timeline or synopsis of how you’ve seen VCU develop since 1974?

JS: You almost have to look at who was leading it at the time. When I got here, there was a gentleman named Dr. Herb Burgart from about 1976 to the mid-eighties, but then Dr. Murry DePillars was the leader of the school for quite sometime. He was a real personable being, and passed away a number of years ago… he was a good friend. He loved the students, hung out with the students… he was really about building a community. Then Murray retired to all our surprise, and they did a national search for his successor, and Dr. Richard Toscan came on. Murray was much more involved with the internal community… had his arms around it. He wasn’t quite as interested in how we did in New York or other large cities. Murray was more of an incubator for the art school and surrounding community. Then, when Rick Toscan came in… he was quite involved in looking at how we faired nationally and internationally. He really pressed faculty to get out and show around the country, not to just have the faculty shows that were internal. In fact, if you showed on campus or in Richmond it was considered service, not research. So, he really wanted faculty to get out. I worked directly with him as Senior Associate Dean, and a lot of our funding went to travel to make sure our faculty got to conferences, make sure they got their work out to galleries around the country, and performances around the country. So, he was a really good mentor for me, and then I think when I took over I did a lot of the same thing. Rick had really focused on the ICA. We had had a plan for the ICA when he was there, but the architect passed away so it kind of went into a lull. Susan Roth, who was the interim Dean for a couple of years, started talking with the school’s president about it… and then when I came in, the president said that we had to get this thing going, let’s go! With his support, we have now broken ground on the ICA. A lot of fundraising went on, I did A LOT of fundraising… 34 million dollars worth. That, along with making sure our faculty had the opportunity to travel, the opportunity to follow up on their research… and also getting to a point where we understood how arts research could make a big impact both on the arts and externally to other disciplines… which has probably been our biggest push, how we moved the research end of it. Susan Roth had a lot to do with that, as does Sarah Cunningham whose going to be the director of the Arts Research Institute. Then at the Depot building, which opened in 2014, we have the creative entrepreneurship program, and the Co-Lab, a big operation there… it’s a long-term internship program where we take on projects for external companies and businesses… and then the da Vinci Center came out… so all of these things are starting to get fuzzy and wonderful, and have loose edges. That’s all been the new spirit of it, now also, trying really hard not to let the silos get in the way of our trajectory... sometimes it’s hard for people to understand. There are people who feel strongly about letting the discipline be the discipline, and the core of the discipline… and then there are people who want to see the discipline grow out and become more connected to other disciplines. I think that we actually use the word “discipline” maybe incorrectly, because what used to be painting, sculpture, kinetic imaging, dance, theatre, music… some of them have changed a lot, so maybe the new disciplines don’t fit those titles anymore… they sort of fit in-between. It’s kind of like secondary or tertiary colors, or maybe becoming a new color… and you want to have people have a grounding in something, but you know for instance in animation, we teach animation in a number of different programs so if you’re just in one of them, you miss all the expertise of the faculty in another program. So, how do we make sure that students can, especially students who want to wander a little bit and don’t want to stay right down to the core of their discipline, have a chance to do that. The big deal here is, in a world where you’re probably used to menus on your computer, we want to make sure we give students the opportunity to follow their dreams. I want students to be able to come out of here and find their passion, and be able to follow that passion… not necessarily find their passion and have to stick to some curriculum… they should be able to move and follow their passion the way they want to. In most cases we can do that. You’re stuck in a system that rewards for credits generated, and numbers of majors, so we’re trying to change the traffic, but sometimes the stop signs and the left-hand turn signals get in the way of changing the traffic. I hate to hear when a student says, “well, I’m just checking it off to get out of here”… that’s not the idea here.

AH: What is the ICA going to be bringing to VCU… to Richmond?

JS: Well, Lisa Freiman is the director, a really interesting person…. She was the United States Commissioner to the Venice Biennale four years ago, which is a very big deal. She’s energetic and ambitious. She has a new curator, Lauren Ross, and ideas to bring art from around the world here. I think it will be interesting, their first years here at the ICA, because they are going to want to develop a kind of a signature; so I think many of the shows will be built and curated here, and then travel off to other locations if they can. I know they are both interested in connecting to the city and general population. It is going to be huge for Richmond. My quote has been, “We are going to change the capital of the Confederacy to the capital of Creativity.” With the Virginia Museum the way it is, the Modlin Center for the Arts, the new performing arts center downtown, the Visual Arts Center, and now the ICA—what we can do is become a destination city for the arts, it’s really becoming a very exciting place. I mean, look at First Fridays even… it’s the largest First Friday event in the United States… you have to decide which part of town you want to hang out in because you can’t do all of them. It’s a very exciting city right now. If Richmond were stock, I’d buy it.

You know where Foo Dog is now? That used to be my sculpture studio. When I got there, there was no electricity, no running water, or anything… and that was my studio. I had that down below, and I lived up above… then, remodeled the whole place. That was a great studio. Then, I moved to the carriage house behind it, and my studio was the downstairs of that… and then I had one of the garages over on Main and Lombardy. Not choice locations when I was there as they are now. There were gunshots… it was wild… the wild west, I mean it was really wild, and I would go out with a broom every once and a while and sweep broken glass off the sidewalk. The police would just drive by because if you weren’t committing a felony at that point, they didn’t care… it was such a wild west. I remember watching my friends go out to get a six pack of beer one day leaving the back of my apartment, and they actually ran across the street dodging bullets.

AH: You mentioned being quite excited to embark on personal work again, what’s on the horizon?

JS: My head is spinning right now with the notion of going back in the studio. I have to finish some work. I have some pieces I started 20 years ago that aren’t finished, and I’ve got one really big piece specifically… it’s built, but I need to do the electronic component, but it’s big it’s 28’ long 12’ tall and 14’ deep, it has a bunch of figures in foam and about 100 gallons of polyester resin on it. I just want to get it done and finished… then sometime, we’ll see how long it will take me to get an exhibition to show some of the older work and kind of get it out of my system so I can start thinking about some new things. So the big thing right now is showing some of the older work and seeing where we go from there. I’ve got a lot. I’m like Donald Trump, I’ve got a lot of ideas.

 

Patrick Biedrycki | photographer, spaghetti-moto style

This interview was originally printed as the cover story for RVA Mag #24. The accompanying web article can be found here.

If you gave up milk or mutton chops for Lent, well that’s just too bad… our cover-sweetheart this spring is Richmond photographer, Patrick Biedrycki. Having used his editorial expertise to illustrate RVA Mag in the past, we thought it time for a proper styling and profiling of the artist-behind-it-all. Aside from his seasoned portfolio of commercial and commissioned works—Penske Logistics, Freecreditreport.com, and Spin Magazine, to name a few clients—Biedrycki has a striking collection of personal series that punctuate his spaghetti-moto aesthetic. For the purposes of this interview, we have chosen to feature a number of images from his self-portrait series, Fiction. What began in 2009 as various exercises in lighting technique has matured into a comprehensive parody of self-advertisement. His taste recalls Cindy Sherman’s compositional genius and schematic punch, as we see Biedrycki meditate on the humor and fluidity of his own visage.

AH: Where is home?

PB: Home for now and the foreseeable future, is Richmond, VA.... I first moved to Church Hill around 2004. I am thankful crime has gone down significantly, and there are some fantastic restaurants just a short stumble up any of the neighborhood’s often treacherous, blighted brick herringbone sidewalks. Although, I feel like the neighborhood is losing some of the grit and charm that originally drew me to it. You couldn’t even get a pizza delivered up here back then. It does still seem odd to see a mother pushing a stroller down a street she wouldn’t have stepped foot on just a few years ago.

AH: How long have you been shooting professionally?

PB: Strictly shooting, since 2008. I did photo assist in Miami for about two years. I then became a freelance independent contractor, and ceased to punch a clock at a job… that freedom of pursuit is what marked the beginning of my career in my own mind. 

AH: Workwise, what’s on your plate at the moment?

PB: January-March is generally pretty slow for me in the realm of advertising and editorial work. I still have the random portrait, headshot, or band photo to shoot; but no major travel or commercial work. I did just finish shooting that ridiculous Scotch “ad” that I’ve been kicking around, and I’m always scribbling out random ideas in my moleskine, or kitchen chalkboard. Admittedly, though, sometimes when I go back and read them I’m not always 100% sure of what I was talking about.

AH: How do you balance your private and personal projects?

PB: Personal projects always come first. I may not have any commercial jobs on the books and want to get out and shoot. You can’t get a job without a body of work that establishes yourself as a photographer. Not to say that doesn’t happen but those success stories, more often than not, involve an angel on the inside willing to go out on a limb. Things are different now with social media, and the fact that everyone has a camera in their pocket at all times. All photographs used to be a product of intent, now they are largely proof of existence. You no longer have to make the conscious decision to carry around an extra accessory in order to be creative.

AH: What does your set-up usually include, and do you have a favorite piece of gear?

PB: I don’t really shoot film regularly these days, so my usual go to is a Nikon D3 digital camera body. 80% of the time I shoot with a 24-70 2.8. It’s just such a versatile focal length. Next in line is my 50 1.4. Although the 24-70 encompasses the 50mm focal length, the large 1.4 aperture is tremendous in low light and produces beautiful bokeh. My telephoto and ultra wides don’t get much use these days. I don’t really get too wrapped up in gear the way some people do. Everything is just a tool like a hammer or a socket wrench. That being said, I do have an old kind of rare Nikon F3P film camera that I’ve shot hundreds of shows with and countless rolls of film. It’s beautiful. The paint is rubbed off in spots and the brass is exposed from heavy use. It’s arguably the best 35mm film camera ever made. 

AH: How might you describe your style?

PB: I still struggle with the words to define my style… I feel like it’s pretty traditional environmental portraiture. I started out shooting a lot of street photography, photojournalism and live music. I feel like the skeleton of those disciplines is still evident, although I have grown to enjoy the technical side of lighting and production. Maybe cinematic would be a word, just in the sense that I vastly prefer to shoot with the camera horizontally. There are times when a vertical composition is the formula for the image, but I feel like there’s less space to tell a story.

I come from a film background so I strive to capture everything in camera as meticulously as possible. My technical skill in photography and lighting far surpasses my knowledge in Photoshop, which I didn’t even start using until around 2005. Ninety-percent of my relationship with Photoshop is what a professional custom printer would accomplish in the darkroom: contrast, curves, saturation, color balance, and burning and dodging. I don’t really do photo illustrations or composite images.

AH: Why do you take photos?

PB: I think you’re asking me this to see if I’ll take the bait and paint myself as a man with a camera and an over inflated sense of creative prowess? Why do you ask questions and write stories? Yes, I take photos because I enjoy it. Yes, I take photos as a creative outlet. The reason all photographers, in my truest and most pure definition of that word, make images is because we see everything in pictures. Like a sickness that’s obviously, certainly not a sickness. It’s involuntary. Is that just seeing? I don’t know. I’m not a scientist like Dr. Steve Brule, though I do hope this response is pompous and exhaustive enough to answer the question.

AH: Who have been your professional mentors, and what impact would you say they’ve had on your work?

PB: I wouldn’t say any of my mentors had a significant impact on the look of my work directly. I feel like besides learning lighting, the biggest thing I took away from assisting, was how to behave on set—how to engage and collaborate with clients, how to treat the people working with you. Here’s where I’ll name names and give credit and talk shit. Very early on in Richmond I met Thomas A. Daniel. He was always great to me... leant me his studio space a few times… always offered to loan me gear, etc. He’s a character and a talented photographer. After hanging around with Tommy, I was pretty captivated by the way he always said what was on his mind and did whatever he wanted. I’d never really met anyone that was such a complete individual, and it truly inspired me to be myself.

While living in Miami, I assisted a lot of photographers… a few famous ones… they were the worst. One goes by the name Annie. She has a notorious reputation for treating her assistants like garbage. She had the misfortune of me being one of the many assistants to stand in the crosshairs of her unwarranted, abusive wrath. With three famous celebrity athletes and a crew of about 20 people on set, aforementioned photographer and I had a brief exchange that resulted in her walking off set. I was high fived and championed at lunch by the other assistants for standing up for myself and not allowing her to treat me like an idiot. I will say that later in the day it was just her and I on set in between shots and she looked at me and smiled. I like to think she was reminded for a second that the majority of people that work with her are so impressed to be there, no one challenges her. I think it’s easy to get lost surrounded by “yes” men. I just couldn’t understand why anyone would treat so many people so poorly. It doesn’t magically get the shots done faster.

AH: How do you identify with the characters in your self-portraits?

PB: Some of them are just ideas born out of my own interests, like the European motorcycle officer, or the alien autopsy. Some of them are recreations of nostalgia from my childhood like the tennis player and the scotch ad. Some of them may be inspired by a found object or a particle of clothing I have, or a verse from a song or a passage from a book, or just a weird idea I scribbled down somewhere.

AH: They seem to offer an outlet for alter-egos, would you agree with that?

PB: Yeah, I would agree with that to some extent. There are certainly aspects of these characters that I relate to. I created them and have to get into character with an expression or body language to really sell them.

AH: What kind of planning goes into the portraits?

PB: They’re planned out to the smallest details I can foresee. Once I decide to move forward on an idea, it’s already a finished picture in my mind. Location, wardrobe, props, lighting, and characterization have all been decided before the camera comes out. There’s only a certain number of times that I can set the camera for a sequence of photographs, run back into position, and then be that person before the whole thing starts feeling like a bad idea.

AH: Is there a favorite image you have shot recently?

PB: I just finished that parody scotch ad. It’s pretty funny to me.  There was so much overt sexism in advertising in the 70’s. There still is, and I’m not saying sexism is funny, but liquor and cigarette ads from back then just crack me up. It was such a decadent time. I shot it in my dining room with a four-light set up. I really enjoy the challenge of lighting things in a way that they don’t necessarily look lit… taking into account cameras don’t really record with the dynamic range that our eyes see.

AH: Is there something you are still learning, or would like to learn?

PB: I feel like I’m still learning almost every time I shoot. Whether it’s my compositions, directing talent, or just knowing when to stop shooting. Sometimes you get the shot early on, and there’s no sense in continuing. I have always wanted to make a camera obscura out of one of the rooms in my house.

AH: Do you have any favored books on photography, or titles that tie into your personal work?

PB: I keep a few on my coffee table to thumb through for inspiration. Ones I still look at all the time are Danny Lyon’s “The Bike Riders”, Robert Frank’s “Storylines”, and Bill Allard’s “Decades: A Retrospective”. I do like those “Found” collections as well.

AH: Do you have any comments surrounding Richmond’s photography industry; and where do you see it going?

PB: I’d say the industry as a whole is getting more competitive all the time. A good thing, but the downside to that is publications are folding and advertising budgets are getting smaller. Print media is struggling, in general. Banner ads are becoming animated with gifs, stop motion, and video. We’re lucky to have a handful of ad agencies and branding shops in town. The local editorial market in Richmond is pretty small, so it’s always nice to get a call from a magazine out of state. All that being said, Richmond is finally standing on it’s own as a vibrant arts town with an exciting culinary community. There’s a lot of creativity here, I look forward to seeing where that “progress” leads us.

AH: Name something that’s overrated.

PB: I recently saw one of those jetpacks that uses water instead of fire.

AH: Have you ever had an undercover job?  

PB: The undercover part I’m not sure about. When I was living in Miami I got hired by some sleazeball mag or blog to essentially paparazzi Britney Spears. I did it for one day. I wasn’t too aggressive, she even waved to me, so I guess I didn’t piss her off. However, after getting home and downloading my cards and sending the images off, I felt pretty rotten about the whole thing. I never even pursued payment. That aside, I think it’s important to build a rapport with your subjects so the undercover thing just wouldn’t produce what I would want out if it, if we’re making wishes here.

pbiedrycki.com/

 

 

Richmond International Film Festival in its Sixth Year Running

This article was originally printed in RVA Mag #24 in Spring of 2016. The accompanying web article can be found here.

photo by Joey Wharton

photo by Joey Wharton

Over the past five years, the Richmond International Film Festival (RIFF) has brought a wealth of art, media and collective community action to our city. What started as a showcase of short films in 2011 has evolved into a brimming extravaganza of cinema, music, educational forums, and vibrant social festivities across town. The festival has attracted substantial attention from the international independent film community. Their 2016 call for entries accrued more than 1,000 films representing over 40 countries—with participants ranging from Academy Award winner Terrence Malick to up-and-coming local filmmakers, producers, and actors. As one of the largest international film competitions in the Mid-Atlantic, this young festival has distinguished itself as a premier innovative cultural nexus for Richmond and abroad.

Countless rounds of judging distinguished the 125 Official Selection films screened at the festival between March 3-6th of this year. Submissions are divided into eight categories: Narrative Feature & Short, Documentary Feature & Short, Experimental Short, Animated Short, Music Video, and Web Series. With more than $20,000 awarded in cash and prizes, these Official Selection films compete in overall main categories for film and screenplays—the Best of Festival awards and Grand Juried awards—as well as Outstanding Merit Awards, Best Actress/Best Actor, Best Director, Best Cinematography, and Best Music/Score. Festival founder and producer, Heather Waters, notes that “the majority of these films have never been seen in a theatre, so Richmonders are given the first chance to view and weigh in – in a setting that’s up close and personal with the filmmakers and artists who have traveled here from across the world.”

When asked what inspired her initial vision for the festival, Waters points out, “Richmond didn’t have a film festival working towards the likes of a Sundance or Tribeca.” In five years time, RIFF has matured into an international forum with a tight program, and is proving itself as an up-and-coming mainstay on the east coast’s festival circuit. “RIFF’s platform prizes idea exchange over competition,” Waters says.

“RIFF’s platform prizes idea exchange over one of competition,” Waters feels is a distinguishing characteristic of her program, “the larger events always seem to become more political.”  She explains, “Our judging is not political, which puts all entries on equal footing with one another.” To understand what is meant by “politics” here, consider this explanation from Raindance Festival founder, Elliot Grove: “If a film screens at Edinburgh, it is ineligible for the London Film Festival - which only screens UK or world premieres. If it screens in Edinburgh, it can screen at Raindance. A film premiering at Raindance is not eligible for Berlin because Berlin specialises in European premieres…” Stripped of this 4decorum, RIFF ’s crowning achievement lies in its great diversity of contestants—“from emerging artists to winning films”—which provides a space for filmmakers to see how their work compares alongside heavy-hitters of the international indie community. This year, Waters’ hand-selected panel of Grand Jurors included Anne Chapman of the Casting Society of America; film critic, “TV Jerry” Williams; GM of WCVE/PBS, John Felton; Deputy Director of the Virginia Film Office, Mary Nelson; long time television and film producer, Penny Adams; and cinematographer, Jim Contner.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that RIFF has been created by one of the largest “film-hearts” in the state. One of Heather Waters’ most fervent goals with RIFF is to “reinforce, within the Richmond community, the totality of what a film following brings to the city.” Much more than a competition, the festival acts as a “condensed model showing how creative and business communities can share a mutualistic relationship” through film. This year, RIFF received its greatest number of submissions shot in Virginia, and by Virginia filmmakers (features include On The Wing and Shooting the Prodigal, shot in Richmond; Josephine, Coming Through The Rye, and Texas Rein - as well as shorts like “(un)Sexy,” “Fading Felt,” and “She’s Home”). Waters has especially structured RIFF to advertise this untapped potential within the city by “using film as a gathering force to collaborate strategically with individuals and businesses,” while utilizing industry sectors involved in film production. She continues, “capitalizing on these connections will help push us toward the likes of an Austin or Atlanta.”

RIFF works with a plethora of sponsors and local businesses to facilitate the various industry panels, Q&As, live musical performances, red carpet awards, and entertainment mixers that complete the festival experience. This year, the historic Byrd Theatre and Bowtie Movieland/Criterion theatres screened all Official Selection films. Over the course of the festival, restaurants such as Balliceaux, Starlite and Joe’s Deli hosted mixers and filmmaker breakfasts. Thursday night festivities culminated at the Broadberry with the Music Video screenings, followed by a live music showcase of Richmond’s popular talent—featuring Anousheh, Skye Handler of Lady God, members of Horsehead, Black Liquid, Rodney Stith, Chance Fischer, The Tide Rose, Lamayah, and Heather Taylor of Junction Hill.

“This city has a lot of underground talent that is unfortunately split between many separate artistic communities,” Waters explains, “so in growing our festival, we look for as many opportunities to cross-pollinate all of these sectors as possible, and show off the best of what Richmond has to offer.” In working with sponsors, Waters strives for a “cyclical development of partners [who] self-identify as collaborators in building the Richmond scene… boosting tourism, and creating a repertoire for Richmond as an ideal place to make films.”

In tandem with these objectives, Waters has also developed a full academic backing called the “FLOW Collective”. An all-star cast of filmmakers, writers, directors, producers, and academics deliver a series of engaging panels “centered on the concept of creative action in relation to film, television, writing, and related fields” as part of the festival program. Waters further describes, “Flow, also known as Zone, is the mental state of operation in which a person performing an activity is fully immersed in a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and enjoyment in the process of the activity.” These discussions are valuable to all levels of film enthusiast, from lecture topics such as The Art & Rhythm of the Moving Image, to industry-focused opportunities where writers have one minute to pitch their scripts to a panel for feedback.

Might I take a moment to note that Heather Waters’ undue enthusiasm for the Richmond creative milieu is not the product of a hometown loyalty to the city. The Tennessee native started as an actress, model, and vocalist in Atlanta and Los Angeles before transitioning to production, writing, and directing roles in 1994. After admittedly “falling in love with its charms” and industry potential, this mover-and-shaker has since adopted Richmond as her headquarters. Waters is also President of the Virginia Production Alliance, and co-owner of Creative World Awards, a leading international screenwriting contest that circulates winning screenplays to top agencies, film studios, managers, producers and financiers looking for their next project or writer.

For more information about RIFF visit rvafilmfestival.com

We have selected a Five-Title sampling of the 2016 competition through synopsis and interview—featuring both RIFF winners and other international highlights

The 2016 Best of Festival Feature Documentary went to India’s Daughter, directed by Leslee Udwin. One of the most poignant and serious social commentary pieces in the festival, India’s Daughter shares the story of 23-year-old medical student, Jyoti Singh, who was gang raped and beaten to death on a Delhi bus in 2012. These events inevitably sparked protests and heated conversations surrounding gender inequality across India, and at large. Viewers are addressed through interviews by Singh’s family and friends, victims’ rights advocates; as well as by the assailants, their lawyers, and their families.
Director Leslee Udwin explains, “When the news of the ‘India’s Daughter’ gang-rape hit our TV screens around the world in December 2012, I was shocked and upset, as we all are when faced with such brazen abandon of the norms of ‘civilized’ society. But what moved and compelled me to commit to the harrowing and difficult journey of making this film was… the optimism occasioned by the events that followed it. It was the ordinary men and women of India, in unprecedented numbers, who poured out onto the streets, and withstood the onslaught of teargas shells, lathi charges and water cannons to make their cry of ‘enough is enough’ heard with extraordinary forbearance, commitment and passion.” India’s Daughter has won numerous honors for its powerful message, and has been praised by the likes of the late Alan Rickman, Emma Thompson, and Meryl Streep.
More information can be found at indiasdaughter.com

The 2016 Grand Jury Prize winner for Best Feature Film went to Spanish thriller Day Release, also known as Tercer Grado. On his first weekend of parole after serving 5 years in prison, Mark Rodriguez (Jesus Lloveras) witnesses the armed robbery of a security van. His brother´s critical situation and his feelings of remorse for his own crimes lead him to take desperate measures, with only the help of a young, sexy stripper he met the night before. Where seamless quality meets a bloodied, jarring edge, you can tell there is more going on here than just another anti-hero redemption flick.
This artful blockbuster is the first feature length film from the production team of director Geoffrey Cowper and lead actor Jesus Lloveras, who share a decade partnership of making films. Inspired by a real event that took place at a movie theatre where Cowper worked, the pair built a fictional story around a car heist to challenge themselves as director and actor. The film provides a window into Spain’s law enforcement/inmate culture, where men with wives and families are allotted weekend release after showing good behavior some time into their sentence. Day Release also stands as visual commentary for Spain’s present economic strife, which has caused families to lose homes and property due to the current banking system.

Interview with director Geoffrey Cowper
AH: I can’t help but admire the creative, working relationship and friendship you and Jesus have built over the last decade. Could you give a few comments on your process?
JC: We met while I was studying film and he was studying acting. We got along from the first moment, and we’ve worked together in several short films before. We even shot an extremely low-budget one in New York! So by the time we did Day Release, we had built up a lot of trust, and that I think is very important. Since we both wrote the script we “argued” a lot before shooting the film, so once we were filming, with only a look Jesus knew if I needed another take.
AH: Is there anything else you would like readers to know about your film?
Well, we’re very happy to have won the Grand Jury Prize and we hope that the audience also enjoyed our movie--especially since Day Release is our first feature film, and a very independent one. Jesus’s grandfather (Jesus Mora) became a film producer at age 85 and was our main investor. Without him this movie wouldn’t exist. Also it was great that my parents (Conxita Sal·lari and Richard Cowper) were able to do the catering for the whole cast and crew. It’s crucial that the cast and crew on a movie set eat well. And I’m sure that if they hadn’t put all their love and effort into the making of our movie, we wouldn’t have won the award. I really hope I can come to the Richmond International Film Festival, sooner rather than later, with my next film.

More information can be found at http://www.breakingpictures.es/tercergrado/la-pelicula/

Another noteworthy documentary piece featuring heavy subject matter is Steve Hoover and Danny Yourd’s film Almost Holy, also called Crocodile Gennadiy. This film was Executive Produced by the acclaimed Terrence Malick, who many may recognize from his work on The Tree of Life, The Thin Red Line, and Badlands. The fall of The Soviet Union left Ukraine in a wake of social and political upheaval; its crippled economy and corrupt infrastructure produced little hope. However, a pastor and civic leader from Mariupol, Ukraine named Gennadiy Mokhnenko, made a name for himself by forcibly abducting homeless drug-addicted kids from streets of his city. He founded Pilgrim Republic, a children’s rehabilitation center and home for former drug abuse victims. The review from its premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival ensured that the “Terrence Malick-produced Crocodile Gennadiy is a lot more than poverty porn.”

More information can be found at http://www.almostholyfilm.com/

Louder Than Bombs is a feature length drama directed by Norway’s Joachim Trier that premiered at Cannes this year. The preparation of an exhibition celebrating the famous war photographer, Laura Freed, brings her husband and their two sons together for the first time three years after her unexpected death. When an unsettling secret resurfaces, the three men are forced to look at each other and themselves in a new light, redefining their innermost needs and desires. Although it was not in competition this year at RIFF, Heather Waters noted, “This film has a ton of buzz, and will be in theatres across the country in April, so it’s great that we’re getting it here first in Richmond.”

Despite the film not being in competition, the RIFF 2016 Rising Star Award went to the freshly 18-year-old Devin Druid, a Richmond native, who portrayed the younger son, Conrad. In a Variety interview, Trier gave a glowing commentary on casting the youth, “And then we found Devin Druid, who’d done some great work with Louis CK, and that was perhaps the part I was most nervous to cast… That’s what kept me up at night, trying to find that kid. When Devin Druid was brought to my attention…we found our guy. That was the biggest relief of the whole process. And I’m so pleased with him.” Upon meeting Druid at the festival, I was delighted when he mentioned his aspirations to be the “18-year-old-male incarnation of Tilda Swinton”, which shows an impeccable taste that pairs well with his obvious passion for the craft. Druid was sure to add, “This is not a soundbite film. It’s very sophisticated and requires the viewer to be present. And some people really need to let it rest with them for a day or two. I’m proud of this film. I think it’s extraordinary. I’m so very pleased that it will be released soon so others can see it.”

More information can be found here www.facebook.com/louderthanbombsmovie

Shot in Winterthur, Switzerland, “Lothar” is a 14-minute narrative short about an absurd character whose sneeze causes nearby objects to explode. The poor kid can’t catch a break, as we are briefed of his lifelong bout with technology and nature. To protect the world from his destructive “gift”, Lothar has relegated himself to a bunker stocked with the necessities: light bulbs, toilet paper, his daily bread, a toaster. The sheer quantity and repetition of these items recall a backhanded-Warhol aesthetic that uplifts the implied monotony of his isolation. Lothar’s melodrama is no joke when he manages to break his beloved toaster, an early gift from his mother. This mishap provokes Lothar to risk leaving the confines of his subterranean home. Writer/director Luca Zuberbühler elaborates, “With the story of Lothar, I want to symbolize the contrast between the external world and one´s solitary life.” Although Lothar was not recognized in RIFF’s juried selections, this film’s exorbitant pack-for-your-punch has earned quite an extensive resume. The short has reached over 150 festivals, and has received over 25 international awards.

Interview with Luca Zuberbühler

AH: What inspired you all to make this film? 
LZ: The first idea popped up when I was gaming Angry Birds on my phone – a game where you can break everything by throwing birds?! Seems funny, but then I thought: What if a human being breaks everything against his will, a man purposelessly smashing the world around him? It would be fun to watch.
AH: What is the time setting of Lothar? Present day, future?

LZ: It’s a very good question. No one asked that before. It looks a bit retro-styled, but has science-fiction elements as well. I would say in present day of a cartooned world.
AH: RIFF has aspirations to, in time, become a qualifying festival for larger, more prestigious festivals. What do you think it would take to really put RIFF on the map?

LZ: The core team should be very passionate about film. I’ve seen it many times, that some fests just wanted to have a prestigious event, a film fest, but did not really care about good quality films or about filmmakers and how they did it. As a filmmaker, you just feel it if it’s “true” or not. The “film heart” is either big, or not there at all.

More information is available at lothar-movie.com

Beat Awfuls of Lexington, KY release fall 2015 album, Nothing Happens

RVA Magazine playlist review for "You're Not Gonna Love Me Anymore", from Beat Awfuls 2015 album, Nothing Happens

Originally printed in RVA Magazine's Winter 2015 issue as part of "Playlist: Tracks Worth Listening To"

beatawfulsnothinghappens

Almost taunting in tone, Beat Awfuls capture a grieving process in the form of a schoolyard chant. You’re Not Gonna Love Me Anymore is an earworm, the kind of track that goes on mental loop to help the day pass. Each instrument offers a way to cope—sugary, simple percussion keeps the mood lip-bitten with glassy eyes, while the guitar forces a smile and the bass ruminates. Velvety chimes accent the group’s cowboy croon; this lo-fi waltz musters a positive bent, charging Vicini’s moony declarations into triumphant resolution.

HA, nice headline, right? Nothing happens! An indie kid dish to the contemporary (music) industry... contains sensitive social commentary paired with hardship musings, all the while skipping rocks. The emotional stimulus throughout this record is beyond rich--piercing, poignant yet subtle, as is most anything Dave Vicini touches. He'll reach out with both hands bare, cup your heart, and pull it from your chest with tugging refrain. Nothing Happens is available on cassette from River Girls Records, and vinyl/digital by Jurassic Pop... the tape is sneaky, Kelly's Heroes style. Members are Dave Vicini aka Dave Cave of Viva Viva (Boston) and Idiot Glee (Lexington), Skye Handler also of Viva and Lady God (Richmond), Kentucky Boy Dr. Paul, and Amanda Sue.  

Darryl Starr | our favorite marine vet/art professor

"I see a lot of men my age lament upon what has or has not happened in their past relationships, so my work here is like a ‘hindsight 20/20’ exposé, sexually speaking. I’m pegging where I can see how culture has limited them to certain societal ideals of love, relationships, and sex, which nine times out of ten lead to the failures they experience."

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Jack Lawrence | painter, portraitist... guru of taste and spark

"I’ve always loved the idea of making decisions. The moment a decision is made or the moment an urge is encountered and can’t be resisted or one is made for you by the human nature gremlin. It’s probably the most important thing that pops up in the work. By the time the decision is made, it’s just an end game that plays out. When you get to the actual violence and sex it’s boring."

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