whew, hope I don't pick up that telephone when it rings! Might be Werner Erhard!
This self portrait was taken in a motel room in Sarasota Florida at a very far out film "festival" around 1981. A wealthy young guy invited a small group of artist filmmakers to come to his motel for a goofy get together. Films were projected on a raft on the gulf. We were all supposed to get along, as Rodney King might have said.
It was awkward, it was fun, it was weird. It was all paid for by the host. Southwest Florida at that time was a very sleepy place, strictly seniors and locals and miniature golf. 16mm films. SERIOUS artistes in a silly place. Films you'd watch and try not to look back at the projector to see how much more was still on the reel.
6 comments:
I'm resisting self-analysis (not hard since I've practiced it my whole life - ha!) but I'm CRAZY about this post and would really REALLY like some elaboration. And by elaboration, I mean pages, not paragraphs. :)
Yes, tell us more. :D
Love the line about wondering how much longer the films would last.... I liked Calvin Trillin's comment in "Off the Wall" that 1960s performance artists way overestimated the audience's attention span.
That looks like me after a phone call with Mom.
You look kinda sad in this pic.
booda baby, this trip, plus a visit to a really early computer animation lab (NYIT) inspired me to write a screenplay about a computer lab that was putting people into cartoons in the basement at an old Florida hotel. (dumb) I tripped the meeting trail with a producer for awhile (1981) but nothing came of it.
I look as if I got halfway converted to the cartoon and then they had technical difficulties.
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