Three cheers for the American Genre Film Archive, who are doing the heroic work of preserving & distributing vintage outsider art in an age when practically every movie over a decade old is being snuffed out of existence, no matter how mainstream. AGFA platforms works as essential as the coming-of-age riot grrrl sex comedy Mary Jane’s Not a Virgin Anymore and as disposable as the home-movie porn…
Richard Kern's career has been remarkable to watch from the perspective of someone who met him briefly for a portrait session, after a screening of his films in the backroom club where I usually saw and photographed bands. Kern emerged from New York's East Village with a zine and later a series of films that were aggressively provocative, back when this was still acceptable subject matter for artists. I'd already seen an evening of his films - a program that included Fingered and The Right Side of My Brain - and it was pretty indelible. But we were all edgelords back in those pre-grunge days, and this sort of overtly offensive stuff was celebrated, especially if it offended the right people.
Richard Kern and his colleagues in what got called the Cinema of Transgression - which included filmmakers like Nick Zedd, Jon Moritsugu, Beth B, Kembra Pfahler, David Wojnarowicz and others - were an obvious tributary to the underground and indie rock scene, especially when musicians like Henry Rollins and Lydia Lunch would appear in Kern's films. Their whole "fuck you if you don't like it" aesthetic was a natural fit with bands like the Butthole Surfers, Jesus Lizard, Big Black, Poison Idea, Pussy Galore and so many others. So it was natural that we'd do a feature on Kern for the alternative music monthly I worked for when he showed up to ask questions after an evening of his films, with my friend Tim assigned to write the piece while I got to do the pictures. I showed up with my Mamiya C330 and my flash, umbrella and light stand and photographed Kern simply, sitting on a chair in front of the movie screen on the stage at the Rivoli where I usually saw bands.
What I didn't know at the time was that my Richard Kern portraits would be my last ever job for Nerve magazine, where I'd been developing as a photographer (no pun intended) for over two years. The story Tim and I handed in would be laid out on flats but never saw publication, as money troubles (and some personal ones) unceremoniously ended Nerve magazine after five years. This was effectively the end of my apprenticeship as a photographer; if I wanted to make a living at this, I had to seriously start looking for work at "real" magazines. I'm not sure if anyone ever saw these portraits of Richard Kern; they probably didn't get published anywhere until I posted a few on my old blog several years ago.
With all that in mind I'm still rather pleased with my portraits of Kern: they have a starkness and simplicity I was striving for (what my friend Chris Buck recently referred to as a "clunky honesty"). You didn't have to know that Richard Kern would end up with a career as a celebrated, arty pornographer, but it wouldn't surprise you. He has, in the decades since I took these photos, published over two dozen books with titles like XXModels, Digital Kern, Shot by Kern, New York Girls and Extra High, sometimes for quality imprints like Abrams and Taschen. Even more improbably he has survived the scythe of cancel culture, perhaps by hiding in plain sight.
Entre un riff rageur de AC/DC et une pénible critique de la folie par Jacques Derrida. Voici un film expérimental en 16mm, réalisé en réponse aux aspects théoriques et critiques dans l'institution du Cinéma et de la critique cinématographique non-académique.
«Le progrès est vandaliste et barbare. C'est une vérité tellement banale que j'ai honte de l'affirmer. »- Asger Jorn
Est-il surprenant que la transgression se développe furieusement aujourd'hui, vous ne pouvez même pas dire s'il s'agit de mouvement ou simplement de folie quoique vous en pensiez, sous la crasse ce film est pur.
Part AC/DC, part Jacques Derrida. An experimental film made as a response to the critical theory aspects of the filmmakers degree and academic film criticism.
«Progress is vandalistic and barbaric. This is such a banal truth that I'm ashamed to assert it.» – Asger Jorn
Is it surprising that transgression today is expanded furiously you can't even tell if it is movement or just mere madness. Whatever you think about it, under the filth this film is pure.
Part of why I love directora of underground 90s cinema (Jon Moritsugu, Sarah Jacobson, Gregg Araki although he eventually became less underground) is that we have a depiction of young people’s experiences that is slightly less linked to…corporate influence I suppose. I believe to a certain extent that representation matters, but that representation is so stymied by having to fit into what producers want. I feel much more SEEN when I watch, as in the case of Mod Fuck Explosion, an ostensibly heterosexual girl traipse through a meat garden in a teenage dream of being a new person once she has a leather jacket than I do when I watch an ultra-sanitized lesbian who, like, always has clear skin and wears designer clothing while pining over her supermodel crush