Reflections at the Footlight Club

The book project is almost done!

Last Saturday, we completed the final photography and started laying out the actual book.

The people in the photographs are getting their stories in to me and we hope to have it all completed and ready for the printer by the end of January.

For those not familiar with the project, I set out to document the current members of the Footlight Club, America's Oldest Community Theater, in Jamaica Plain, MA. I wanted to capture them in their self assigned roles, and learn about how and why they became involved in this institution.

The book, due to be published through Lulu.com, is going to be used as a fund raising tool and marketing tool for the group.

Stay tuned to find out about the actual publish date and the kick off party at the theater in April.

The photo above is Tonee, one of the stage managers at the club.

My Memories of Christmas

(as posted on the Ad Club Blog)

My favorite memories of Christmas... Well, it would have to be the mysterious and wonderful adventures at Grandma's house before I was 10 years old.

We would get up at our house and open our presents, rush through breakfast and get on the road. After an hour drive over the berkshires, we would arrive at bedlam.

My grandmother must have been cooking for days preparing for the day. Walking into the kitchen, the senses were assaulted by smells of delicious food, cries of joy and welcome, and warmth from the stove that was putting out still more delectables.

Moving into the parlor, my younger brother and I would spy on the tree and see how many presents were stacked there. Because Grandma's was the central meeting point for 5 or 6 generations, plus various neighbors, it would seem to our eyes to be an ocean of wrapping paper and bows.

And then there would be the den. If the kitchen was the gossip point for the mothers, grandmothers, aunts and older neices, the dark, cave-like den was for the men. The tv constantly buzzing with bowling, wrestling and then football. The smell of smoke and whiskey, the feel of stubbly hugs and talk of arcane sporting terms and who was doing what at Sprague Electric.

It seemed to be two worlds, the den and the kitchen, with constant traffic in food and drink moving between, through the kids world: the Parlor.

It was a strange and magical time. The kids, my cousins, brother and I, would make forts, eat chicken and rice, steal cookies, ogle the presents, eat some more of whatever we could sneak, rest and spy on the adults, all the while, anticipating tearing into the huge pile of presents.

Looking back now, I can hardly remember the presents or the unwrapping. My memories center around the warm feeling of belonging, surrounded by famly, the friendly chaos, of being sated and happy with the promise of more good things to come.

As a father of two boys, I watch them each Christmas and wonder what they see now and will remember of our times together.

The snaps here are from last year's celebration. Hunter got a snowman kit and wasted no time in putting it to use at my parents' place in Maine.

Season's Greetings!

Imagine the excitement.

Imagine the anticipation.

Imagine the plans, late at night, under the sheets with a flash light and the dog-eared catalog.

Forget the hype and the pressure, that's an adult thing.

Imagine the conversations you might have, if you came downstairs and there was a big guy with a red and white suit standing in the living room.

Ah, ah! 911 is an adult thing!

Imagine two brothers waiting... on Santa Patrol!

Happy Holidays, to every one of us!

The Portrait Project Continues!

For the first time, in a very long time, I placed myself in front of the camera. And learned a bit of empathy for my own subjects.

In the middle of our tight schedule, we found a hole where we could fit me in. After all, I had been hanging around the club for years and made my own contributions by creating photographs for posters and brochures.

Setting up the lights and the position was easy. But, sitting there was not. Nor was the makeup or the direction from Joy, my make up artist, and Jessica, my assistant.

Not that they were difficult. In fact, they were quite supportive. It was my own anticipation of the light and the pose and my own ego in the way. Surely, I don't look like that! Where did that grey in my beard come from? Gosh, no more donuts between setups!

No, my crew was, as always, supportive and creative. Despite having to work with a prima dona like me!

My thanks to Joy for putting up with my complaining about makeup under my eyes. You were right, of course. And, thank you to Jessica for, ahem, pulling the trigger on this one.