Bill Randall

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Crashing a pro photographers’ conference, looking at cameras and lenses costing more than an acre of land in some places, was a little like being in the locker room in middle school.

It didn’t help that I was carting around a Holga, a plastic toy that shoots on 120mm film. Its focus dial offers: head, person, people, and mountain range. Its case occasionally keeps out the light, and the people who develop your film usually apologize until you mention, to their relief, a Holga was involved.

All the gear lust & envy brought to mind a few artists working with meager means. I have in mind not Bolexes and Holgas so much as the PXL-2000. This plastic video camera, with an ethereal black and white image taped to cassette, came from Fischer-Price. Grown up not at all, it now has it s own film festival, of all things.

And the whole of the work from the PXL hardly compares with the work, almost undiscovered, of the Czech photographer Miroslav Tichy. Working in virtual isolation, he returned to his hometown in Moravia after studying art in Prague. He made his own cameras, crafting long lenses out of pipes, tape, and handmade lenses. The photos– almost always of women, spied from afar– have a glowing, hazy texture, being born with the patina that takes most photos years to acquire. His approach would take most pros years to learn, as they unlearn all the artistic traps of expensive gear.

Miroslav Tichý, MT Inv. no.: 1-30, © Foundation Tichý oceán

A few notes:

*I made a dumb misread of the Tokyopop contract that doesn’t affect my larger point. Sorry about that; it’s now fixed.

*My website inches to completion; the Art section has stills from my films, and more photography. If the descriptions aren’t up yet, my people will have it up in a couple of days. If so inclined, take a look and invent your own versions of these films in your head.

*Thanks to my comrades from the Photogogue, I was able to enjoy a little of the NPPA conference the last few days in Louisville. This group of press photographers, training in multimedia so as not to follow the dodo, had an air of optimism and opportunity, a nice surprise given industry trends. I ate good food, ogled gear, and met good people, especially Tyler and Bob at breakfast.

One chap rightly noted that Louisville is not a major city. Pleasantly pocket-sized, I usually give it short shrift for its basketball. Nonetheless, it offers abundant pleasures:

• People going broke at the horses, or the riverboat casino across the river
• The air of a Giant Robot store in Ultra-Pop, a boutique on Bardstown Road. We chatted with affable owner Paul, who’s celebrating the store’s first year in July.
• the cheese plate at Lilly’s on Bardstown, with ineffable friend KC
• the little punk bar on 3rd & MLK, though I was disappointed the punks weren’t all 50-somethings playing Minor Threat vinyl on sharpened dentures
• Finally, Maido, a relatively new izakaya (Japanese pub). My impression of Louisville’s Japanese food is pretty bad, barely a reminder of good Japanese. Compared to Lexington’s twin jewels of Sugano & Izakaya Yamaguchi due east, it’s embarrassing (thanks, Toyota factory). Despite my initial reservations– the bartender, stunning manager, and wait staff were no more Japanese than me– they do grilled & fried right. I’m told the co-owner’s the daughter of an Osaka restaurant czar. I only had a few favorites, and while the kimchee pork was a little dry, the miso eggplant was quite fine. Same for the tea. Even better were the takoyaki. If Maido were to shut down and reopen selling nothing but hundreds of little takoyaki, I would line up around the block.

Happy Boxing Day! I am Bill Randall, a writer and artist, and here I will collect some of my published essays and reviews, as well as notes on art and culture. I suppose I will treat it like my porch, thus a place for either barking at the neighbors or having tea.To wit: