VISUAL CITY
For the past 10 years I’ve photographed toys with my iPhone, creating the illusion that they are larger than they actually are through a technique known as forced perspective. Shot in just the right location and juxtaposed with insightful quotations, the photos turn into stories. Those stories have helped me meet a like-minded community of people, filled a book, and became the subject of a short film. (Lying on the ground while shooting, I’ve also been mistaken on three continents for a heart attack victim.)
A few months ago, the artist Todd Kurnat asked me to create and photograph new scenarios inspired by song lyrics, which was an exciting challenge given my background as a musician. This set of photos would be strictly San Francisco-based, like the previous photos we featured on The Frisc in 2018, but all new, and with musical themes.
Not all of the songs are about San Francisco. But our city, as always, provided the perfect backdrop and turned each photo into a little San Francisco story.
EYE OF THE TIGER
From a lifetime of obsessing over music, I knew quickly that I wanted to use Survivor’s 1982 hit “Eye of the Tiger.” My first idea was to shoot a tiger in the Financial District and frame it as if the viewer were on the ground after being pounced upon — a commentary on modern competitive business culture!
I started buying toy tigers on eBay, but the idea lacked depth. Then it dawned on me to watch the video… wait, did they even have a video?
Oh, did they ever. It is classic 1980s MTV cheese: a group of denim- and leather-clad dudes stomping around with great intensity. It seemed familiar yet unremarkable, but then I nearly fell out of my chair. Behind them was a flash of a sign: “Big Al’s.”
Not only was the video filmed in San Francisco, but the signs were still there!
I knew what I had to do. I would recreate the band members as half human, half tiger and shoot them under the marquee lights of Big Al’s in the exact same spot on Broadway Street where the band made the video 38 years earlier. It was going to be epic!
I went on a Sunday night to scout the scene. As soon as I began test-shooting, I heard a deep voice: “You can’t shoot in front of my club.” It was the doorman from the Roaring 20’s strip club.
I was about to reply when, half-smirking, he followed with, “Unless you have a joint on you.” It was his lucky night, and mine too. Leaving my house I impulsively grabbed a spliff, thinking I might enjoy a smoke after I scouted the scene. Within seconds of his challenge, I reached into my pocket: “You mean like this?”
“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME, I LOVE YOU!” he shouted, then paused. “So what the fuck are you doing again?”
After I explained and showed some of my past work, he said, “That’s pretty cool, you can shoot in front of my club anytime.”
It was time to make some tiger people.
It was a learn-as-you-go situation. For the tiger heads, I had all the figures I had collected from eBay. For the bodies, I found A-Team figures from 1983 that had that early ’80s “Members Only” vibe. The end result is a spunky tiger army roaring with the spirit of 1982. Rawwr! As icing on the cake, I fashioned a tiny beret for the tiger singer, just like Dave Bickler in the video.
I have one small confession to make. Locals will note that the Big Al’s sign has not been lit up since 2009, when the space was turned into a bookstore. Against my strict practice of “iPhone only” I took the liberty of Photoshopping the legendary sign back to life, and I have no regrets.
(SITTIN’ ON) THE DOCK OF THE BAY
It’s well known that Otis Redding’s 1967 classic “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay” was inspired by the Bay Area. My challenge was finding a way to tell the story. Scouring the internet for Otis Redding figures proved a bust. The closest figure I could produce was an African American GI Joe.
I scouted deeply along the city’s waterfront by Pier 70 where there is access to old docks looking out over oil tankers. But in test shoots, the figure was too stiff and wasn’t producing the right vibe. I had to find a different figure and a different location.
What I learned next filled the gap and blew my mind.
It was 1967, and Redding was playing a week of shows at San Francisco’s famous Basin Street West club, located at 401 Broadway, mere weeks after his historic performance at the Monterey Pop Festival.
He was at the top of his game. The hotel where he was staying was inundated by female fans, and he was unable to get much-needed rest. So local music promoter Bill Graham offered Redding his houseboat in a secluded area of Sausalito called Waldo Point.
In that same spot, as if by divine intervention, was a small wooden structure.
During this stay, Redding started writing the song. Working with Steve Cropper, guitarist for Booker T and the MGs, Redding recorded an unfinished version in November. The famous whistling part was a placeholder for an as-yet-unwritten verse, but Redding never had a chance to write it. He and several band members died in an airplane crash on December 10, 1967. Redding was only 26 years old. His good friend Cropper finished the song, which became the first No. 1 single released posthumously.
It was clear I had to shoot in that same spot that inspired Redding.
Luckily I found a new figure and styled him in cargo pants, a sweatshirt, and a cap. The light would have to be just right, dusk with painted skies. On any given day I had a 30-minute window to shoot as the sun went down.
The location was accessible and, even better, had a small public-access area just before the locked gates of the houseboat community Bill Graham used to call home. To my surprise, in that same spot, as if by divine intervention, was a small wooden structure, which made the perfect dock for my subject.
PINK CADILLAC
Issued as a B-side to Bruce Springsteen’s 1984 monster hit “Dancing in the Dark” and turned into a top 10 single by Natalie Cole a few years later, “Pink Cadillac” has nothing to do with the Bay Area. But I love to photograph 1/64 scale cars (think Matchbox and Hot Wheels), and I already had a pink Cadillac, a replica of the 1955 one owned by Elvis Presley.
I still needed a compelling narrative. Springsteen’s not-too-subtly suggestive lyrics focus back and forth between the Cadillac and the female owner of the car. (“Honey, I just wonder what it feels like in the back of your pink Cadillac.”) I Imagined a close-up of the owner, using just a glimpse of the car, and depicting her as an independent woman with an abundance of confidence and attitude.
My collection of 1/64 scale people produced a few female subjects that could have fit into the car with some alterations. Taking a last look through my pile of figures, however, I stumbled across a tiny figure that was the spitting image of Bruce himself! As much as I liked the idea of the woman driving, it was obvious I had to switch.
Originally I wanted to photograph in the Mission or maybe on Third Street. But then I thought the subject would be better served with a beach scene, to focus attention on the car, the figure, and the core lyric, not on San Francisco.
I set off for Ocean Beach, but I wasn’t sure where I could pull this off. Just as the sun started going down, I found, of all possible objects to work with, a genuine 100% concrete Jersey barrier, deployed to curb the spread of beach sand. This was clearly a sign!
It was very windy during the shoot. To keep the toys from blowing away, I used earthquake putty, a common material found around San Francisco for keeping small items in place during a quake. You can see some between the figure and the car if you look closely.
I CAN’T DRIVE 55
This was my last shoot, just days before the show opened. For research, I had learned my lesson. Go straight to the video. It was more ’80s awesome, with Hagar driving around in a 308 Ferrari wearing the craziest yellow jumpsuit. I found a jet-black 308 on eBay; to recreate Hagar’s frizzy blond locks flapping out of the sunroof, I cut up a sponge.
I shot the scene on the side of the road near the Sonoma Raceway, where (true or not) I was told by multiple friends Hagar, a Mill Valley resident, filmed the video.
I was running out of light and ended up shooting into the sun, giving it a surreal haze and cool California vibe.
SATELLITE OF LOVE
The toughest part of this shoot was figuring out how to build a heart-shaped satellite. While searching eBay, I found my base: dented vintage aluminum heart-shaped cupcake molds from the 1950s!
I then had to figure out how to fit the molds together and attach actual telescoping antennae.
For the shoot, a night scene overlooking the city from Twin Peaks seemed a no-brainer. Using a telescoping pole for washing windows, I attached the satellite with wire and held it out as far as I could with my left hand while shooting with my right. It was so windy I took only a few dozen shots, thinking I’d have to go back and reshoot. To my surprise, one worked.
A SPOONFUL OF SUGAR
Mary Poppins was set in London 1910, so I choose the famous Painted Ladies of San Francisco, built in the 1890s, as the backdrop for this beloved character. I was lucky to get a clear shot of the modern city skyline behind the Victorian houses.
GTO
In the early 1960s, Baby Boomer teens were looking to differentiate themselves and their four wheels from their parents’ cumbersome sleds, and General Motors executive John DeLorean, whose team brought the Pontiac GTO. to market, was hip to the trend. They didn’t cook up the song “GTO,” by Ronny and the Daytonas, but they were savvy enough to offer the band help, according to the book Pontiac GTO: The Great One. Often mistaken for a Beach Boys tune, “GTO.” hit No. 1 for several weeks in the fall of 1964.
Ill Lyrics 2 is a group exhibit featuring the art of Eric Broers, Jerry Business, Todd Kurnat, and Jeff Petersen. It’s showing at Mini Bar through March 9, 2020.
You can find the photography of Jerry Business, aka Jeremy LaCroix, on Instagram @jerrybusiness or @shootingsmall or at shootingsmall.com. Jeremy is art director of The Frisc.