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29 July 2009
out of the booth
way back in february, I stood in a cozy little shop called ampersand and thumbed through boxes of old snapshots. while I happily mined for vintage photographic gold, the owner (myles) told me about about a photobooth exhibit they were planning for the summer. I was already totally smitten with the place but that sort of did it. that absolutely sealed the deal. of course, summer felt like seven hundred years away and I completely forgot about the show. up until a couple of days ago.
out of the booth features photobooth enlargements from the robert e. jackson collection and opens tonight. portland peeps, I'm fairly certain this will be awesome. unfortunately, I am currently several hundred miles from portland (more on that later) but some of you are not. and I am thinking you should go to this. because I'm telling you, it's really going to be something. also, myles says there will be air-conditioning and you and I both know you're right smack dab in the middle of a no-joke sort of heat wave. how much more time can you spend at the movies? at the library? in the pool? or heaven forbid, the mall? you know you're running out of ideas. get thee to ampersand! for the opening tonight, ryan brubaker will be on hand to shoot photobooth-like portraits with his polaroid camera. also available: free cold drinks. free. cold. drinks. and air-conditioning. AIR CONDITIONING. but most importantly, a stunning collection of vintage photobooth images. witness above. witness below.
if you can't make it tonight, out of the booth runs through august 23rd. and I can't say much yet but it looks like I may be participating in a little something special (in conjunction with the show) before the show's end. details to come.
if you go, tell myles I said hi. and tell him andrea sent you.
merce
"I think of dancing as being movement, any kind of movement. And that it is as accurate and impermanent as breathing."
to the modern dance giant who saw all movement as dance-- a man stepping off a curb, a woman jiggling her foot impatiently, a bird arching its bony shoulders-- merce cunningham, you will be missed.
listen