Banjos by Mulheron Banjos

This summer I had a great opportunity to photograph banjos built by my friend Lindsey Liden.

I've known Lindsey for a couple years now. By chance he came in as a last minute sub on a dovetail joinery class I took when the teacher got sick. Lindsey was such a good teacher. As per usual I had come in with a lot of ambition to build a cabinet for a tube amp I had just built. Lindsey, a former touring musician himself, had a lot of great ideas and suggestions. And we hit it off.

Lindsey was an assistant instructor on a guitar building class I took. And that instrument is still the gold standard on which I compare everything else I build.

At the tail end of the pandemic it had been awhile since I had taken a woodworking class. So I reached out and asked if he'd ever do a banjo building workshop out of his shop. It just happened that the same day he had another person reach out with the same question. So he put together his first workshop for myself and two others. It was a week spent in the mountains building banjos and playing music. It was awesome. I've done 2 more workshops with Lindsey.

This summer Lindsey was finishing a batch of banjos before heading to Clifftop (Appalachian String Band Music Festival) and wanted to get them photographed. I got to help with final assembly and then took them into a makeshift studio to photograph them. And that's what you see here.

Lindsey is a builder with an awesome aesthetic. Beautiful wood choices. Detailed metal scoops. Crazy colors and cosmetic distressing of the pots. Relic'd hardware. And musically they sound amazing. Lindsey has an Indiana Jones style journal filled with scribbles about joint angles and headstock designs; clues looking for that holy grail of sound.

Creating these photographs it's important to honor all the attention to details that he puts in as a builder. And to showcase what makes these instruments unique. And I like to think I did that.

If you're interested in banjos or banjo building workshops, check out his website at https://www.mulheronbanjos.com/, or share it with your friends.

The Stories Within Stories Within Stories

I shared this video clip on my Facebook page several years ago. Every year it pops up in my memories. And I rewatch it every year. I’m amazed at the storytelling, and the found story that isn’t necessarily about the lions, but is also about the lions. And my amazement stems from my own experience with lions in Tanzania.

In 2007 I did a safari in Tanzania. It was very early in my life as a photographer. I got some amazing images, despite approaching it all wrong. You can see those images and get more story on that here. I remember one day, midway through the trip, we had heard of a pride of lions near a small grove of trees and we made the approach in our Toyota Land Cruisers. Our guide drove and swung around so that the pride was on my side of the car. My window was open and I saw the most amazing male lion not 10 feet away from me. I was so shocked that I couldn’t bring the camera to my eye. A moment later my eyes locked with the lion and I trembled through my entire body. I had an instantaneous feeling that the lion could in one second leap through the window, and pounce on me. It was that feeling of powerlessness that I couldn’t shake. I didn’t get a single usable photograph from that encounter. But I’ll never forget it.

Holding lions in such high regard, as apex predator, it’s easy to hang your attention on them and not let go. That’s what makes the above video so shocking to me. That we focus not on the lions, but on the lizard eating flies around the lions. We have this larger ecosystem that we see, and then this smaller fragment. This nuanced little story. And I find that so inspiring as a photographer. What opportunities are there in all our encounters to find those stories within stories?

I recently photographed a wedding, which has the overall story of love and marriage between two people. But as I walked around so many other valuable stories emerged. The father of the groom and groom sharing a moment. A cousin taking a quiet moment to feed his toddlers away from other guests. These are other examples of love and family that get highlighted within a larger context. And finding those moments is something I always want to focus on in my development.

On Jimmy Buffett and Dude Where’s My Car

I don’t have many pictures from that time period, but this is me (right) with our guitar player Tim (left). You can note how much of a rebel I was, drinking out of a McDonalds cup in a Culvers.

At the tail end of High School I was in a band called The Jacklegs. We played kind of a Surf Punk Metal blend of Danzig, Dick Dale, and Black Sabbath, mostly covers but also a handful of our own songs. I played bass.

We played a handful of Battle of the Bands at a Jewish Community Center (losing every single time). We played the local pool hall in Des Plaines that was owned by our friend's uncle. We played a few other small shows. And we played one sweet sixteen birthday party. And that party is what I'm going to talk about.

It came to us through our lead singer, Tony. It was someone he knew through school, but not super well. She was turning sixteen, and we were supposed to play 2 sets. Which was super ambitious for our band, being that outside our main set, we each had a handful of songs we knew that no one else in the band knew. So we would have to follow their lead. Now that can be cool if you're a group of experienced musicians playing around with each other following inspiration. But a couple teenagers slopping their way through Hollywood Babylon (by The Misfits) is not cool.

But it is punk. It's punk as hell! And punk was cool enough for us.

When we were putting together our setlist time was front and center. How can we fill this out and meet our time commitment? So it was suggested by my bandmates that we'd do two sets and that I should play my solo acoustic Jimmy Buffett covers in the middle to break up the flow.

My mom and I travelled across the US in an RV for most of my childhood. She was privileged to work for a boss who gave her a lot of time off. So we'd find ourselves driving through the Rocky Mountains or along the Emerald Coast a lot when I was a kid. I'd go to sleep at a Jellystone Campground and wake up already on the road to our next stop. And when I'd wake up I'd often hear Jimmy Buffett on the tape deck. My mom was a big fan. I was just figuring out who I was and what I liked.

But year after year my summers were always full of Jimmy Buffett. It was a long term passive acquiescence. I can't imagine being on the road without hearing A Pirate Looks at 40 or Son of a Son of a Sailor. And it became a point of connection for my mom and I. We'd go to Margaritaville restaurants, buy dumb t-shirts with parrots, whatever. It was just a thing that became a part of our lives.

Through my twenties we'd go to concerts together. We saw Jimmy play in Vegas several times, Florida, Alpine Valley, Wrigley Field. Neither of us have ever been big concert goers, except for Jimmy Buffett.

As a musician I spent a lot of time practicing Jimmy Buffett songs. Alone in my basement. Jimmy Buffett wasn't cool at any of my schools. I didn't wear my Jimmy Buffett shirts to school. (Though looking back now I wish I had, to weave an interesting tapestry of Korn, NIN, Green Day, and Jimmy Buffett.) So I largely kept it to myself and sang songs I loved, though were probably beyond my years in terms of understanding.

The idea of singing Jimmy Buffett songs at this birthday party terrified me. Singing terrified me. Playing bass was an easy way to be a part of the band, but sink into the background. But we had to fill out this set. And I did kind of enjoy the idea of confronting a fear. So I agreed. Three songs between our sets.

The day of the show we had a huge snowstorm. I vaguely remember the snow coming up to my knees. The show was in the suburbs of Barrington at a huge house. We set up in the basement early in the day, and were going to go on in the afternoon. I spent a lot of time working on my songs. It was the type of thing I couldn't screw up, because I wasn't good enough a musician to play off mistakes. Any mistake would derail me. So I had to practice.

When the afternoon came we got on "stage" and a crowd of about 25 teenagers surrounded us. A pretty standard demographic sampling of teens. Exactly what you're thinking. We opened with our favorite opening song. An original instrumental called "Surf for Satan". That led into a cover of Danzig's "Bodies", and then back to another original called "The Watermelon Song". By the end of our third song, the crowd has dispersed, to the tv/sitting area 10 feet away. They had "Dude Where's My Car" playing and they CRANKED the volume to drown us out. We briefly rebelled, trying to play louder, but eventually gave up and started packing our things. We drove to Denny's and commiserated over coffees and grand slams.

I never got to play my Jimmy Buffett songs.

To the left, check out one of the few recordings I have from that band. Beware, it comes in hot and it ends hot. If you’re wearing headphones, turn them down for a sec.

Powerstrips and Plugs and Traveling Every Day

This is one phase of what was plugged in. Utilizing a few plugs for many devices.

One of the less glamorous aspects of our trip to Iceland was keeping everything charged and organized. We only had two night stays in two hotels on the trip. Every other stop was check in at night, check out in the morning.

I took “charge” of making sure we had fully charged batteries every night. Also had to power computers, ipads, charge phones. It could get to be a logistical nightmare. What you see in the photo is my Belkin travel powerstrip on the left. It has three regular outlets and two usb outlets. That is plugged into a two prong travel adapter that works through most of Europe. To the right is a Brookstone travel adapter that has adapters for every outlet in the world. It also has two USB outlets and one regular outlet.

Plugged in to everything are batteries for two camera systems, a drone, a battery pack for Lindsey’s heated vest, and my watch.

*quick aside, at one point the charger to the Fuji batteries stopped working. It was the only charger I brought for that camera system, and not being able to charge batteries would’ve rendered it useless. There are also only 3 stores in all of Iceland that might have carried that charger, and all were over 4 hours away… and no amazon prime available either. I did a deep dive on google and repaired it myself.

We were very lucky our luggage fit into the back of our rental car. Those bags were a tight fit every day, fortunately Lindsey did a great job reorganizing everything on our first day in Iceland, so we only ever needed to take one bag, or one bag plus a case. That made everything go a lot faster in the morning as we were trying to catch a sunrise or get to our destination on time.

This type of vacation came with a lot more logistics to navigate than a more relaxing type vacation. But Lindsey and I both thrive under that type of stress. It is its own type of fun.

In addition to setting up this charging station every night, i also had to transfer data from all the cameras to the computer so we’d have clear cards every morning. Some nights I would have that work overnight (because transfer rates could sometimes be over an hour with some of the larger video files we got). We actually had almost no time to review photos on the trip. Because so much time was spent transferring.

Suffice to say we relished the two nights we spent at the same hotel. It was our opportunity to recharge ourselves, enjoying a chance to sit and look out a window (like the window in the third photo!).

Our bags fit perfectly in the back of this Suzuki Vitara.

View from Hotel Budir on the Snæfellsnes Peninsula

Alan Hawkins! West Coast Trip Part 3


My final stop on my west coast trip is Seattle. One of my favorite cities next to Chicago. In fact, if I didn't love Chicago in the way I did, Seattle would be my choice. I saw Independence Day the day it came out at a theater in Seattle. But more awesome than that will be seeing my friend Alan Hawkins.

Web graphic Alan created for our podcast "The Doomed City Podcast"

Alan knows how to wear a suit! 


I don't know what year Alan and I met. It was during a particularly fuzzy part of my life. I had stage fright, but I could still tell stories. My friend Chris Biddle had gotten the go ahead to remount a Chicago show called "The Sickest Fucking Stories I Ever Heard" and asked me to co-produce it. It was the perfect show for me because I could tell terrible stories from my experiences and not feel that dread of having to make something up on the spot. And we got to play poker while doing it. Our shows never brought in that large of an audience, but one night after a show Biddle introduces me to this bald giant who'd just moved to town from Los Angeles, Alan Hawkins.


He looked like he had come straight off of good behavior at the Cook County lock up. In fact, I think I made it a point to avoid him that first night. I didn't know what to make of him. He said he might have some good stories and after talking to Biddle we scheduled him for our next months show.


Well good stories he had. I can't divulge any of them on this blog, suffice to say you should get to know Alan better. Because that boys seen some shit.


Along with being a good story teller, Alan is an incredibly creative graphic designer. Ninety percent of the graphic design you see on my web site, or my farms website, is from Alan. He did most of our show posters, and if I posted a cool photo of something, Alan would always jump in and throw something creative on it. 


Over the years we became close friends. I ended up moving into his neighborhood which gave us more opportunities to hang out. Every once in awhile I'd get to watch his dog, a tiny pekingese. Perfect foil to a bald giant. 

Alan, Biddle, and I on Michigan Ave. Photo by John Dart.


One day Biddle, a longtime fan of the movie Ghostbusters, said he wanted to have a proton pack. Alan immediately said "I can build that". Alan had a background in prop building while living out in Fresno and LA. He doesn't see things as impossible. He immediately sees opportunity. So we decided that the three of us would go as the Ghostbusters for Halloween (at that time still a few months away). We would set up build days at his house or in my garage and work together. Laughing, telling stories. All while wiring Christmas lights into pink housing insulation.
Our first packs were admittedly a little ramshackle. But we did it. We went to Deja Sue's Halloween party (an annual affair that she went all out for). We partied, said a couple lines from the movie, and then went home triumphant.

Alan, Red Rum, and myself at C2E2

Proud to show off my original Hawkins!


But for Alan that was just the beginning. He started joining online Ghostbuster communities and saw just what was possible with pack building. He got in to pepakura (folding paper and then putting a strong bonding agent on top to seal it and make it hard like plastic) and made his next GB pack entirely out of paper. Then he found other techniques and slowly started building a new pack for me and new props for Biddle (who had bought a pack from another GB by that time). Alan is really good about sharing and posted the entire build process for my pack online for other Ghostbusters to follow. And consequently, when walking around conventions sometimes people will recognize my pack as a "Hawkins".

Ranger Smith ain't going to like how much I love Alan Hawkins.


Almost a year ago, Alan and his family picked up and moved to Seattle. His wife got an awesome job out there and they've got room to grow out there. But every day I miss having Alan around. He's been a great. Alan I love you. I'm so excited to see you again.
 

Michael Davenport! West Coast Trip Part 2


I've been hanging out with Deja Sue for a couple days now. We've hit San Fransisco for two burlesque shows. I've gotten tattooed. Photographed two tattoo shops. Seen Pismo Beach. And now Deja and I are driving to Sacramento which brings us to my next good friend, Funny Mike D, Michael Davenport.

Mike and I in a booth at the Pick Me Up Cafe in Chicago. Photo by Steven Townshed, with whom we were discussing art, women, and... that was probably it.

Mike always had good facial expressions. He's often compared to Jim Carrey.


Mike and I met in our first improv class at the Annoyance Theater. This was the same class Deja Sue and I were in. We all met at the same time.


Mike and I fell right in together. We'd do improv scenes and we absolutely could not keep from breaking. Every scene. It was terrible. I don't know if that means we were really funny, or just terrible actors. Probably somewhere in between.


I was dating my first girlfriend around that time. Deanna. Mike was a dog walker and used to walk a dog near my apartment. Every other day he'd come by with a dog and we'd walk and talk life, improv, and girls. He gave me the false confidence that when Deanna and I broke up I'd be just fine. I wasn't. But I had Mike. And honestly, with how long we've been friends, I got the best end of the deal.


Mike and I took every class in Chicago that we could. We'd often set a goal to break an instructors lesson. That sounds like dickish move, but it was really effective and helpful. The premise was, whatever the instructor asked us to do we'd go way over the top with it. If the goal was to find "objects" in the "space", we'd go around touching everything. If the goal was to play an emotion hard, we'd take it as far as one possibly could. If the goal was to have no silence between dialogue, there was no silence. We were always pushing. Trying to be as good as we could. 

There is nobody I trust more to push the boundaries than Mike Davenport.


We had one class with Susan Messing and everyone had to get into pairs to do a longer form two person scene with a Q&A in character with everyone in the class. Immediately we snapped into what would become a recurring set of characters for us. Jack-O and Landrover. Our characters cooked meth in our grandmothers basement, and every scene ended up with us wrestling on the floor. Basically we invented Breaking Bad.


At some point, I started getting stage fright. I could no longer perform on stage. I started pulling away from the community. I was ashamed and didn't know how to handle my anxiety. Mike never stopped believing in me. He would often ask me to direct, or take part in whatever he was doing. That led to the greatest directing experience of my life. Melange. We did a short run at The Second City on the ETC stage, and that group killed it. Every once in awhile during rehearsals I'd jump in and play. I never felt uncomfortable with that group. And Mike was a big part of it.


But hat only paints part of the picture. Mike was also one of the biggest fuck ups I ever met. He would drink until he was passed out in someones lawn. He lost several jobs, and had to move around a bunch. There was a brief time while unemployed that Mike would board the CTA in the morning during rush hour and tell jokes for money. I don't know that he ever made back his train fare, but he hustled.


After a few particularly bad benders, Mike came to live with me. I lived in a two bedroom place at the time and had recently broken up with my second girlfriend. Mike and I became roommates. That was a difficult time. Mike had an abscess in his *mouth and his body was literally poisoning itself. Mike would have loud nightmares. Or he would come home absolutely shitfaced. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a difficult time to be his friend. Every day I dreamed of kicking him out. 
But Mike was my friend, and if I have a fault it's giving my friends a really, really long leash.

*Eventually Mike got his tooth fixed and wouldn't you know it, he started feeling a lot better.

Before Mike's wedding, we dragged him down to a river and baptized him. Ray did the honors, being the minister/officiant. 


Eventually Mike moved out, and then decided he was stagnating in Chicago and needed to move for a new challenge. He picked up and moved to Oakland. "A dumb idea" I thought at the time.
We would talk on the phone about some show he was trying to put together or some improv team he was trying to join. I remember after he had burned some bridges with a local group he decided to form his own theater. He put together some improvisors and found some jazz sax player and a poet to perform at an art gallery. That sounded interesting. Then Mike started talking about going to kinko's and making flyers and how he was walking all over town promoting this show. He'd talk to everybody.


And slowly that became a thing. Mike worked his ass off promoting, teaching, and performing until he finally had The Magic Jester Theater. He had a troupe of people following his lead. With the distance between us, it was harder to notice subtle change. All I saw was Mike going from a crazy uncontrollable force, to a focused mindful artist.


He would eventually meet his wife through that theater. That's a phrase I never thought I'd write. But it's amazing. I'm so happy for Mike, as I was standing up at his wedding.

Mike and his wife Jessica on their wedding day. I stood up for this guy!


Eventually his wife got an amazing job in Sacramento. Mike had to leave his theater behind, but he's unstoppable. He started another theater in Sacramento that is growing. Morpho Theater. I couldn't be more proud of my friend. Mike, I love you. We've been through so much together, and I look forward to going through more.
 

My friend Mike and his wife Jessica. I love them both so much.

South America Prologue: My Friend Christian

Christian holds his thermos while drinking mate, a daily ritual.

The beginning. In the coming days and weeks I'll start posting stories and photos from my 45 day trip around South America that would take me from the waterfalls of Iguazu, to the southernmost tip of Cape Horn, to the Atacama Desert in Chile, and finally to the Inca trail and Machu Picchu. It was an amazing trip. Truly life changing. And I'm happy to finally share it.

 

But there is one person I want to talk about before I can get into the trip. Mi amigo Christian. Christian accompanied me throughout the trip (with the exception of Panama), and it's important to know who he is before I can talk about what we experienced together.

Christian and I met in 2007. We were both working as maintenance men for a high rise in Chicago. That means we used to vacuum floors, wash windows, and fix peoples broken sinks. Not glamorous, but it was steady work.

Christian emptying the trash.

When Christian started working at the building we immediately became friends. We'd cover for each other when one of us would screw something up. We'd get hot chocolate for each other on cold days. And generally we got along famously. Christian is Argentinian and maybe a year before that I had been to Buenos Aires. So I was always pressing him for information on his home and what it was like to grow up there. 

He'd tell me stories of Diego Maradona but that he prefers rugby to football. Or that when he was a kid everyone called him flip flop, because of the shoes he was running around in. We'd talk about his family, and how hard it was to be living in the US and only talking to them over the phone. 

When Christian first started at the building he was married, but I soon learned he was going through a divorce. Thanksgiving was coming up, and I couldn't imagine Christian having to be alone for a holiday, even an American one. So my family took him in and we'd spent the next several Thanksgivings, Christmas', birthdays, and any other gatherings, together.

 

Christian would move on from the job at the building, I would too. He did several other jobs in Chicago. More maintenance and some work for the Anti-Cruelty Society working with animals. He loves animals. But we maintained our friendship. One of his favorite things was to come visit our farm and cut grass with the tractor. Christian has always loved big machines.

Christian mowing the grass at our farm with the tractor. Christian loves big machines.

One more of Christian on the tractor.

In 2012, Christian made the decision to return to Argentina. After nearly 10 years away from his family, it was time to return. I was sad. The night before he left we shared some deep dish pizza, went to the lake and took a picture of his favorite skyline. I dropped him off at the airport in the morning.

Christian with his favorite skyline in the background, just before leaving for Argentina.

Goofing around.

I didn't know under what circumstances I'd see him again. I was working a 9-5 desk job at the time. Feeling low. And one day I decided to quit. And I decided to take a trip, because those always made me feel better. And what better place to go than Argentina to visit my big brother Christian. So we started planning and a short trip turned into a 45 day adventure with one of my best friends.

Christian, I love you.

Stay tuned for the photos and stories from our South American adventure.

Christian tells us what he really thinks.

I'm in print!

Emma Glitterbomb recently wrote an article detailing having her picture taken as a performer, discomfort with never feeling like she photographed well, and then coming into MY studio and being proven wrong. I love her message and I love how powerful it can be to see yourself in a photograph. The following quotes come from this article.

The photographer, Greg Inda, is an integral part of the company. Capturing dancers in their natural habitat is a tricky business (I mean, we’re constantly moving!), and this guy’sgood. Seriously. Check out our Facebook page. He’s gotten photos of my butt that make me cry, they’re so awesome. 

Maybe it was the fact that I felt comfortable with this photographer, that he talked me through the entire process — from what top would look best with what lighting, to how to “turtle” my head forward and not put my chin down so much, to anecdotes about how even Brad Pitt didn’t know how to look his best in pictures when he was young. Whatever it was, this photo shoot was one of the best things I’ve ever done.

Self-image will always be a struggle for me, but I’m starting to think it’s possible to evolve. To look at photos and go, “That’s me, and I look pretty good.”

 

Thank you Emma! (And yes, the headshot posted below this was from our shoot!)

The shoot that was a year in the making...

 

fop |fäp|
noun
a man who is concerned with his clothes and appearance in an affected and excessive way; a dandy.


 

It all started Valentine's day 2009.  I was hired by the Belmont Burlesque Revue to set up a photobooth for patrons, and also to photograph the show.  This was a special show titled "Broken Hearts Burlesque Ball" and was held at the Abbey Pub here in Chicago.  For those of you not familiar with the Abbey, it's a larger venue than the BBR normally plays, making this show more of a rock concert than a vaudeville theater experience.  Burlesque performers from around the city came to perform.  Chris, who usually plays Second Cousin Joe in the show, wanted to do something different since this was a "Ball."  He wanted to come in as a fancy gentleman.  Top hat, tux with tails, cane, etc.  But when he went to Chicago Costume, the owners son had a very different definition of "Fancy Gentleman."

Chris made his grand entrance as Lord Toppenbottom.  A mask wearing fop, prepared for decadent fun.  He was an instant hit as he walked around the floor playing with the crowd.  It was the ultimate in audience participation, patrons would walk over and spank Lord Toppenbottem.  Ask to have pictures taken with him.  He would cap any encounter with a laugh straight out of Amadeus.  It was a HUGE hit with the crowd.  Chris really owned his character and made a big impression on all of us.

Ever since that night I had been thinking of ways to capture the Toppenbottom experience.  But what would I do?  Period shoot?  Burlesque shoot?  What tells the story?  I decided that the only way to tackle this was to charge in and hope the dice sing (D&D expression).  The initial thought I would riff on was "Party like its 1710 in 2010."  I'd need a fop and modern girls dressed like they were going out clubbing.

I talked to Chris about models and gave him the ultimate decision who he wanted to work with.  He came to me with Natanya and Elise.  Both of whom I hadn't worked with, but have known for a long time.  Chris explained the basic concept to them, they'd need clubbing dresses, and that we might strip down to bra and panties.

I arranged to meet with Chris at Chicago Costumes.  I arrived before Chris and really had no idea what I was looking for.  It was close to closing time and we were having some trouble finding Chris' costume based on my rough description.  After about 20 minutes of me pulling pirate costumes that could work, Chris came in, walked right over to the rack and pulled the exact same costume he had for the Abbey show.  Chris regaled the clerk and I with stories from the year before, being made to look like a fop by the owners son.  Everything came together when the clerk found the poofy horn wig that ties the whole outfit together.

Chris and I left with our rental and met up with my girlfriend, Shauna, for pizza.  I tried to explain what I was going for in the shoot.  A few basic ideas, but nothing fleshed out in the slightest.  I could see Chris getting a little nervous that maybe this wasn't such a great idea getting involved in this... what would I make him look like?

That night I put some more thought into the shoot.  A few more ideas to riff with.  My new take on things was "One of these things is not like the other."  Lord Toppenbottom, in all his decadent glory, would be mirroring what the girls did and exaggerating what the girls were doing.

 

 

 

We shot everything on a white background, with the lights close to the subjects to gray it out.  I shot mostly with an 85mm 1.8 lens on my Canon 5D MKII.  This shoot was an absolute blast to work on.  I recommend Natanya, Elise, and Chris as excellant models.  Shauna was an excellant assistant and DJ.  I can't wait to work with this crew again.

As always, I'd love to hear your feedback.

 

 EXTRA TIDBIT - The following photo is not safe for work, but I'd feel awful to not post it.  It was one of the last set ups we shot and was Shauna's idea.  If you were wondering what Lord Toppenbottom has in common with Mine That Bird...

 

 

 

 

 

 

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