Like my discovery of the Hawaii Clipper, my buddy Mike found an old neg and ended up stumbling into the fascinating story below.

freedomfromgravity:

“A Boy and his Bell”,  4x5 B/W  Negative, Found Photograph

So last week I stopped by a junk store in Brooklyn and a couple old negatives caught my eye, so I decided to scan them and find out as much as I can about them. 

The aircraft pictured is a 1947 Bell 47G that according to the NTSB started as a 47B. It’s tail number, barely visible as a stencil on the side of the canopy is N128B. It was the 48th 47G off the production line. It suffered a  nonfatal crash in Elk Point, ND July 29th of 1978. A unnamed 62 year old flight instructor with over 4200 hours was on the stick, and managed to lose rotor speed sending the aircraft into the ground.

It was resurrected and then crashed again in Dayton, MN on June 7th of 1987 fatally killing 2 people on board. From NTSB: “AIRCRAFT COLLIDED WITH TERRAIN AFTER TAILBOOM STRUCTURE FAILED BECAUSE OF INTERNAL CORROSION.” Fuck me.  

Even though it was marked as destroyed, it seems someone in Oklahoma decided to revive it or at least part it out.  The airframe was registered all the way till 2003.  Who knows what it was doing.

Keystone Helicopter corporation as marked on the tail boom, was founded in 1954, is based Coatesville, PA and is now part of the Sikorsky Aircraft Corporation. The brief bio I could find online describes them as a service company focused on maintenance and customization of aircraft. 

It’s really hard to make out the camera he is holding, however I’m very confident it’s an early Simmon Omega 120.  Originally a combat camera made by the Simmon brothers, it  later evolved into the Koni Omega line of cameras. It was first sold in 1954. 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/heritagefutures/sets/72157623177073200/detail/

http://www.pacificrimcamera.com/pp/omega120/omega120.htm

http://www.novacon.com.br/odditycameras/omega120.htm (check out the radical rotary flash!)

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N Number history: http://www.airport-data.com/aircraft/N128B.html

1978 Crash Report:  http://www.ntsb.gov/aviationquery/brief.aspx?ev_id=40695&key=0

1987 Crash Report: http://dms.ntsb.gov/aviation/AccidentReports/5g3p0lagh0o24m45t4im02ml1/R04182012120000.pdf

The N number has been resurrected for a Tecnam Sierra. (http://www.flickr.com/photos/zir6/1316379668/in/photostream/)  

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View the full resolution version of the file: http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7135/7093806955_fd4bb13362_o.jpg

#foundphotograph #foundnegative #Bell47 #simmonomega #n128B 

Balcony view. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

I now live a short mile away from one of Seattle’s most beautiful public spaces—Discovery Park. But Discovery Park started as Ft. Lawton. Constructed in 1900, it was formally closed in 2005.

On the grounds are many boarded up former military buildings including the Band & Barracks House No. 734. I decided to head down to these great old buildings to shoot some Fujifilm FP-100 C45.

It was a cold, overcast day. The wind whistled through wooden boards and broken glass. I walked up and peered into a gray, fogged window only to see dusty, abandoned floorboards and random, tossed furniture. I tried to imagine the noise and bustle of troops moving in and out.  If the wind would have quieted down, I would have strained to hear voices. But for now, photos will have to suffice.

Barracks. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

the-overlook-hotel:

Vintage photos of The Overlook hotel, circa 1921. Inscribed “J. Torrance”

Artist: Wm. Anthony

My “found” vintage photos of the Overlook Hotel was re-blogged by Lee Unkrich (Director of PIXAR’s Toy Story 3) on his amazingly thorough blog dedicated solely to The Shining. Check it out. Some incredible exclusive ephemera there.

Thanks Mr. Unkrich!

In the field. #4x5 #largeformat #ebonycamera (Taken with Instagram at Band & Barracks House 734)

(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

The second set of photos I shot for the November issue of Portland Monthly were of Edna Vazquez, mariachi singer. (And her cat Memo.)

When we scouted her house as a location, we originally planned that the hero shot would be taken on her front porch. Edna and her partner live in a small house in Northeast Portland and I liked the idea of showing contrast between her Mexican mariachi outfit and the very typically “Portland” house.

We set up and shot several options there. Memo, her little scrappy cat even showed up unannounced and posed for a few frames.

Edna and Memo on her front porch in NE Portland. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

But also while scouting, I noticed a fence in her carport that had a great texture. I imagined if she stood in front of that wall, and I shot 4x5, you’d be hard-pressed to guess exactly where in the world she was standing. I liked that.

Fuji Instant prints on the tailgate. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

I also opted to use Fuji FP100 C45 Instant Film. I wanted to really push the rustic look, but in an organic, unpredictable way. Seemed fitting. I shot a whole box of ten sheets, getting multiple angles. Once home, I stripped the backs from the negs and roughed them up a bit with dilute bleach and a horsehair brush. The close-up is a particular favorite. Frida Kahlo is a hero of Edna’s, as evidenced by her numerous portraits in places of honor around the house, and I feel like she was channeling her in that shot.

Distressed negs. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

Shooting 4x5 on assignment is always fun, and I am glad I have a client like Portland Monthly who is willing to trust me enough to use it. It’s a luxury that is sadly becoming more and more rare. Even Edna (and Memo) was (were) intrigued by the process. (See photo below, right.)

The Ebony 4x5 on location. Memo doesn’t know the adage about the curious cat.
(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

Edna was a great subject. Charming, friendly, but always driven and focused, she has a true passion for what she does. If you don’t believe me, watch this clip of her performance on Tengo Talento, Mucho Talento. I dare you not to tear up.

Gracias por todo Edna.

 __________________________

Credits:

Client: Portland Monthly

Art Direction: Mike Novak

Photo Assistant: Chad Sogas

__________________________

Daniel with his self-designed shoe. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

On Saturday night, Pamela and I attended the Doernbecher Children’s Hospital Foundation/Nike Freestyle Auction event at the Portland Art Museum. It was an amazing, emotional event. But we weren’t there to buy shoes.

Last June, fellow Portland photographer extraordinaire Daniel Root asked me if I’d like to donate some time and equipment to a project very special to him. In addition to shooting sports lifestyle photography for Nike, for the past several years, Dan has volunteered his talents to the DCHF/Nike Freestyle Project. Here, children fighting the good fight against ailments large and larger are invited to design a shoe alongside Nike designers. The prototypes of these shoes are then auctioned off, followed by the line being sold online and in Nike retail outlets for one year with proceeds going to the hospital.

Dan shot all the people photography for the entire project, but he asked me to join him for the portraits—the best part in my estimation. Why? Because they’re taken the moment the kids see, or in some cases—feel, their self-designed shoes for the first time ever.

Dan wanted to shoot the “big” portraits on black and white 4x5 and so he asked if I’d give a hand. I was of course thrilled at the idea so I packed up a box of Ilford HP5 and carted my Horseman LE 4x5 view-camera to the Nike campus in Beaverton for an unforgettable day.

Polaroid. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

The Daniels figure out the best angle. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

Dan photographed all six kids, Mackenzie, Daniel, Isaiah, Dacia, Warang and Anthony, in one afternoon. All inspiring, motivated and thoroughly tough kids. Kids like Daniel Bair (above) who developed a tumor as an infant that began pressing on his optic nerve and eventually robbed him of 98% of his sight. But you’d never know by his attitude. It was an attitude shared by all the kids. An attitude some of us “grown-ups” struggle to master even on a good day. Printed on the inside of the shoe he designed is the phrase “One foot in front of the other. Just like everybody else.”

Indeed.

Our make-shift studio at the Nike Campus. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

Dan testing, as seen through the 4x5.
(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

The portraits and auction were a big success. Seeing the kids onstage showing off their creations was incredibly fun. Yes, fun. No one here was feeling sorry for themselves.  The introduction in the book containing all the kids’ bios and portraits, handed out to each attendee, opens with this:

“When life hands you lemons, make lemonade - or in the case of Mackenzie, Daniel, Isaiah, Dacia, Warang and Anthony, make a shoe.”

They did more than that. They made an impression.

To see all the portraits by Dan, or for more information on how to buy the shoes and support Doernbecher Children’s Hospital Foundation, click here.

“Overlook Hotel. The apartment July ‘21 ~ J. Torrance”
(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

So, while staying at the ‘Overlook Hotel,’ I found an envelope in a cabinet in my room containing these photographs. Amazing how little the place has changed in 90 years. I don’t recognize the photographers name. They look like maintenance shots. Perhaps these were taken by the hotel’s caretaker?

“Overlook Hotel. South view  July ‘21 ~ J. Torrance”
(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

“Overlook Hotel. View from Maze  July ‘21 ~ J. Torrance”
(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

Field trip to the Fremont Bridge here in PDX for some architectural studies with Fuji FP100 C45 Instant Film. Shot with my Ebony RW-45 field camera.

This is Chad. I call him Fred.

I met Chad on the set of the Nike shoot I did a few weeks back. He is a Production Assistant. (See the pencil?) In the chaos of that day-long shoot, I couldn’t remember his name for the life of me. So I told him I would just call him Fred for the remainder of the day. Surprisingly, he was fine with that.

Since that shoot, he’s helped me out on occasion and is also part of my trivia team, The Portland Ale Blazers, at Spirit of ‘77’s Quizzy. (He’s our cinema and plastic explosives expert.)

I bought a box of Fuji FP-100 C45 instant film for a job and had an extra sheet.

So I shot Fred.

Sacred ground. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

Earlier this week, I had a couple of extra sheets of Portra 400 from a shoot so I decided to head down to the Burnside Skate Park. BSP is pretty legendary. Started in 1990, it’s been an all-volunteer work-in-progress for over 20 years. Tucked away under the East end of the Burnside Bridge, I had no idea it was even there when I used to visit Portland on a regular basis in ‘92/’93. And I imagine that’s the way the local skaters like it. Back then, skate parks weren’t anywhere near city budgets. After the initial SoCal surf/skate emergence in the 70s, skate parks were regarded simply as a dangerous liability that most cities shuttered as soon as the pool was drained or the concrete poured. The City of Portland recognized this park in 1992—three years before the first X-Games.

While there I met two young guys who’d hitchhiked from Atlanta. One said his name was “Zeus” and the other gave me a series of consonants and vowels that I could neither decipher nor remember as his name. He was skating barefoot and had the Om symbol tattooed on his arm. We talked about Portland and I began to realize they are the same age I was when I discovered the Rose City. For me, in my early 20s it was Powell’s Books and Ozone Records; Jiffy Squid coffee shop and a Peter Murphy concert at the Roseland theater when West Burnside was a great place to get mugged. For these two, at this moment, it was Burnside Skate Park. 

So nice to know subculture, even as literal as the kind hidden under a bridge, can survive and persist despite all the change around us. 

“Zeus” ponders the “Spiral of Doom.” (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

Old schools. (Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

The quiet before opening. Cropped from 4x5 on Ilford HP5.
(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

This is the German version, known as Wellenflug or Wellenflieger—literally “flying wave.”

Forest Park. Portland, Oregon. 
(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

(Click for bigger. © William Anthony)

Don’t let anyone fool you. Sure, there’s Powell’s Books, Voodoo Doughnut, Nike and the Rose Gardens. But ask any local about a truly legendary place in Portland, and they’ll send you to Mary’s. 

Bainbridge Island and Puget Sound at dusk from Discovery Park, Seattle.
Fine art prints available. 
(Click for bigger. © William Anthony) 

The Buckaroo Tavern in Fremont. Seattle, WA. Est 1938/Closed 2010
(Click for HUGE. © William Anthony)

I lived within earshot of this place for years. Many of my neighbors hated it. I, however, loved it—even though I rarely drank there.

I grew up in a house with a big Spanish family. Our bedroom doors were never closed. At night, as a child, I would fall asleep to the sound of my family watching late night TV, cooking or playing dominoes. I find that kind of white noise comforting. The Buck had supplied 72 years of that kind of white noise to a very white neighborhood.

It closed for good last year.

It must now be dreadfully quiet on the corner of Fremont Ave N. and N. 42nd St.

RIP Buck.