Lights Out. No, Really, Lights Out!

Well, one of my favorite TV series has just been canceled. Okay, maybe it's my favorite because I was in it as an extra. There's that ego again. You gotta keep it in check. Holt McCallany, attended one of Lou Dibella's Broadway Boxing shows at B.B. King's, so I thought I'd introduce Holt to John Duddy, which I did. Last night, on the final episode of Lights Out, there was Duddy with Holt with three speaking parts. Boy, did I feel foolish! Obviously John worked a different day than I did on the film, and by the way, he was great. Sorry to hear it was canceled, but I guess it's a ratings business thing.

Andreas the Giant

     When I was in my twenties, thirties, and maybe forties, I found it difficult or maybe challenging to genuinely appreciate other photographer's work. I don't know if that's a lack of confidence in my own work, or if it's an overactive ego, or maybe I'm just not that smart. To be quite frank, I really don't know. But on April 3rd, I had an opportunity to stop by the Hasted Kraeutler gallery, and much to my surprise I had an opportunity to see some amazing photography. Andreas Gefeller really nailed it. He calls it the "Japanese Series". My god, that made it even more powerful. If it's one thing I've learned from my asian brothers and sisters, it's simplicity in design is extremely powerful stuff. This young photographer blew my doors off. My partner JoAnne was equally impressed, and my dear friend Dennis Wheeler loved it. He leaves you mesmerized with simple, clean, elegant lines. He takes obscene clutter and simplifies it to a point of beauty. As I was leaving the gallery, I walked over, grabbed his hand, embraced him, and told him how much I loved the work.  If it was 30 years ago, I may have grumbled, grinded my teeth, and mumbled under my breath, "I wish I took that damn photo!" Andreas, I take my beret off to you. Great work.

                                                                                                    ©Andreas Gefeller

Dennis Wheeler, Artist in Residence

     About a year ago, I had an opportunity to sit down with the powers that be at one of the greatest Maritime companies- The Oceania Cruises. We discussed the art program on board the ships and we agreed to become part of their art enhancement programs. The first thing I did is I called my dear friend Dennis Wheeler who has work in the permanent collection in the Museum of Modern Art, and I asked him to be an artist in residence at one of the new super liners. He said he'd have to think about it, and approximately five seconds later he said okay. No one will ever say Dennis drags his feet. His beautiful wife Kathi, former Director of Marketing of Departures Magazine. A dynamic figure in the world of travel and business. Dennis came into New York on his first voyage and we joined him for dinner on the ship. Dennis being Dennis, before dinner we went to five art galleries in the meat packing district of New York City. And we had an extremely light liquid lunch. I like to call it a salad. Four ounces of Kettle One vodka, three onions, three olives, a twist of lemon- looks like a salad to me! A good time was had by all. Returning to the ship, Kathi ran into one of her culinary favorites, Jacque Pepin. And an absolutely fabulous dinner followed. Life's good. To all the ships at sea, I'm signing off.

http://www.dimaggiophoto.com 

John is Gone

     2 years ago, a dear friend said I have to blog. To be honest, it was not big on my radar. It's not uncommon for me to put in 12 to 14 hour days and sometimes more. Working 2 weeks straight is not uncommon. So, blogging is one more obligation. Not easy. I started blogging and someone told me it should only be professional and about photography and not personal. There are a lot of rules out there that I don't quite get. And considering I'm not big into authority and following hard protocol, I pretty much do what I want and say what I want and let the preverbal hit where it hits.  I don't go out of my way to offend anyone. It's all good. Which brings me to today's blog. I have a friend by the  name of John Terraciano. And I called him around 9:30 this morning just to say hello. I received his voicemail and it seemed just a little strange. Something was not right. So, I called one of his close friends Hector Vazquez and left a message.  Hector called me back 20 minutes later to inform me that John passed away at midnight this morning. We got together at Christmas, he was as healthy as a horse, great smile, great personality, great wife, Miraim, and an extremely generous giving individual. I don't ever remember hearing the "no" word in his vocabulary. He was always there for you and never expected anything but a thank-you. He came to one of my openings and he brought a beautiful Christmas cactus, which I've always treasured.  Hey, John, I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to say goodbye. Damn, I'm gonna miss you. But who knows, maybe I'll see you on the other side sooner than anybody knows. I guess that's the way it works, huh? Here today, gone tomorrow. On a lighter note, it's my niece's birthday. So, Happy Birthday. Joe D signing off.

Two Irishmen and an Italian

James Moore and John Duddy got together with their good friend Lou Dibella at B.B. King's the other night. The two great Irish boxers were there to support Seanie Monaghan, who won a unanimous decision. A good time was had by all.

©MMXI Joe DiMaggio

March 25, 1911, The 100 Years Ago

As some of you may or may not know, I was born and raised in Greenwich Village, New York, bouncing between 63 Carmine Street and 101 St. Luke's Place. It was the DiMaggio's side of the family and the Pennino side of the family. It wasn't until 5 years ago that I discovered my grandmother and her sister worked at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory. She was 16 years old and her sister was 14. On March 25 1911, the most devastating industrial disaster. Both my grandmother and my aunt made it out safely. 146 women and children did not make it out. As a photographer, every time I photograph my grandmother, there was something that was deep and troubling in her eyes. She had a beautiful smile, but that smile was always accompanied by the troubled eyes. I love my grandmother. It was unnerving to me. I never knew what she went through. She must have been terrified her whole life by that ordeal. 



"The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire in New York City on March 25, 1911, was the deadliest industrial disaster in the history of the city of New York and resulted in the fourth highest loss of life from an industrial accident in U.S. history. The fire caused the deaths of 146 garment workers, who either died from the fire or jumped to their deaths. Most of the victims were recent Jewish and Italian immigrant women aged sixteen to twenty-three;^[1][2][3] the oldest victim was 48, the youngest were two fourteen-year-old girls.^[4] Many of the workers could not escape the burning building because the managers had locked the doors to the stairwells and exits. People jumped from the eighth, ninth, and tenth floors. The fire led to legislation requiring improved factorysafety standards and helped spur the growth of the International Ladies' Garment Workers' Union, which fought for better working conditions for sweatshop workers."


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Triangle_Shirtwaist_Factory_fire 

Gil Clancy - A True Gentlemen May 30 1922- March 31, 2011

ibhoff.com

Somewhere around 1969 I went to my father and asked him how I could get in touch with Jerry Quarry.  My father laughed and said, "you have to be kidding Gil Clancy of course." I asked if he knew Gil and he said, "know him? - we went to NYU  together and worked at the P.A.L."  

Gil Clancy was the first trainer to allow me first access to a training camp which was Jerry Quarry's camp.  Suffice to say, it was one helluva education. I know I tend to use cliches. Sorry but they don't make them like him anymore. He was a great athlete and trainer. His absolute honesty prevailed. He never took advantage of any boxer and was a true gentleman. The boxing brotherhood has lost another Hall of Famer.  Talk about irony, you can't make this stuff up. April 1, 1961 My grandfather took me to the first Emile Griffith "Benny Kid Paret" Fight in Madison Square Garden.  Yes, to all to all the ships at sea, that was half a century ago.