Posts from — December 2009

Primer on Contracts:

Know What You’re Getting Into

 – And With Whom

By Mark Levy & Ryan Miosek

We attempt to cover topics having the greatest interest for as many artists as possible. Many of the legal concepts that apply to one type of artist also apply to others. Although we try to discuss topics that matter to all artists, including but not limited to visual artists, graphic artists, sculptors, composers, photographers, moviemakers, writers, and dancers, certain topics are clearly more appropriate for specific artists and their work. For example, musicians are concerned with performances, while visual artists are interested in showings at galleries. But be patient. Over time, we will discuss topics that concern every artist.

Beginning Basics of Contracts

In the coming months we will cover all of the contractual concepts that must be considered before executing a contract.  In this column, it is important to provide the beginning basics of any contract.  In most situations, contractual terms will be moot as both parties will perform as they have provided theywould under the contract.  In cases where one party fails to hold up their end of the bargain (i.e. breach), it will be very important to have the black-and-white contractual terms to fall back on.

It may seem elementary, but the one of the most important terms of any contract is the names of the parties (to the agreement) forming the contract.  In the event of a breach, knowing who the parties to the contract are will save a lot of time and money determining who the proper party to the suit is.  As an artist, you want to know who it is that you are entering into business with.  Is it the individual who owns the gallery, or is the gallery owned by a corporation?  Is the person you are contracting with the person who will ultimately be on the hook for a breach, or is this person a representative of a larger group?  In that case, does that person have the authority to enter into a contract on behalf of the group?  As you can see, knowing who is entering into the contract is not a trivial item, and one that must not be ignored.

The second term that can be overlooked or over simplified in the contract is what exactly is being contracted for?  Recently we met with an artist who was contracting to sell prints of original works for $5 a piece.  This particular artist had drafted a very well written contract laying out all the intricate details, many of which we will discuss in future articles.  When it came to what was being contracted for, however, the contract failed to mention the works to be sold were prints. In the end this simple mistake could have resulted in that artist contracting to sell original works for $5 a piece.  Without specificity of what was being contracted for, a court considering the contractual terms may have read the ambiguity in favor of the buyer.  This is especially so when the artist contracting to sell work is an emerging artist and does not have a reputation in the art community, or another verifiable basis from which the court can determine reasonable selling prices.  

Such a potentially unsavory result leads us to the moral of this section: Never, ever, ever leave anything to chance, or to the interpretation of the court.  If it seems too basic to include in the contract, chances are it will be the term you wished you had included when you find yourself fighting for your rights.

Types of Property

As mentioned in our previous conlumn, the three classes of property are real property, personal property, and intellectual property (IP), which, simply stated, relates to what comes out of your head. You, as creator of an artistic work, can transfer your rights in your creative work by assigning those rights, much like a real property owner can sell a house, or a car owner can sell a car. Or, you might decide to maintain ownership, but allow others to enjoy the work, as would occur when you sell someone a photographic print or a DVD. The latter situation is more like an apartment owner who leases an apartment, or a car owner who rents a car.

Similar to compensation for real or personal property, as the IP owner you have options for receiving payment. First, you may desire objects or services that are valuable; or, (much more often), you may want to be paid in cash. If that’s the case, a one-time payment or lump sum might be agreeable to the person who buys your artistic work. That person is known as the “assignee” – or the “licensee” in IP parlance. Alternatively, the licensee may be able to afford only a portion of your asking price. In that case, you might consent to receive payments over time. Such payments are known as “royalty” fees or “royalties.” An analogy to royalties is the fee a car renter pays to a car rental organization. The driver may pay by the mile, by the day, or a flat fee for a week or for a year. Similarly, the licensee of your artistic work can also pay you a flat, lump-sum fee or a given amount for each unit of time. If your licensee intends to make recordings or prints or postcards or bumper stickers from your work, with your consent, of course, you may decide to receive a royalty fee for each product sold to the public.

Royalties are considered taxable income, and that’s all we’re going to say about that.

If you are promised sufficient payments, you might agree to grant an exclusive license to the licensee. That is, only one party will have the right to enjoy your work. Exclusive licenses are usually considered more valuable than licenses granted to two or more parties simultaneously, a so-called “non-exclusive license.” In other words, non-exclusive licensees usually realize that they may have competition from other licensees, so they will offer you less money for the non-exclusive license. 

In addition to an ongoing royalty fee, you might also ask for a down payment. In this way, even if your licensee does not follow through with his or her promise to sell many copies of your work, you still end up with money in your pocket. How to determine the amount of a fair down payment requires research based on supply and demand. Here is where an attorney who acts as a negotiator can help you arrive at a reasonable offer.

There is more to the subject of licensing, some of which Mark Levy has included in a short paper: “Should I Consider Licensing?” For a free copy of that paper, please contact Mark at mlevy@hhk.com.

Mark Levy & Ryan Miosek are attorneys with the Binghamton-based law firm of Hinman Howard and Kattell. They specialize in trademarks, copyrights, and the general protection of intellectual property. You can telephone Ryan Miosek at (607) 231-6804 and Mark Levy at (607) 231-6991, or contact them by e-mail at rmiosek@hhk.com and mlevy@hhk.com.

Everybody Should Go To Law School

By Mark Levy

As crazy as this sounds, I think everybody should go to law school. I know what you’re thinking: we have too many lawyers already; an entire society of lawyers would be like a science fiction horror movie come to life. But hear me out, please, before you call the men in the white coats.

Law school can be an enlightening experience. It requires only three years after you graduate college —— four if you go to night school, which law schools like to call “part time” or “the evening division.” Really, in the great scheme of things, what are three or four years of your life? You’ve already probably spent more time doing unimportant things, like spending quality time with your family. You’d hardly miss three or four years. Trust me; I’m a lawyer.

Here’s another benefit of going to law school: you get to read about all sorts of crimes and bad behavior. In a way, it’s a TV reality show without the pictures or the sound effects.

I know three good reasons to attend law school, even if you never want to practice law a day in your life.

First, a legal education will teach you how to negotiate. That’s an important skill, since we all negotiate dozens of times a day. When I wake up in the morning, I have to negotiate with my wife who will get to brush his or her teeth first. Then we negotiate who will prepare breakfast, what the breakfast will be, who will walk down the driveway to retrieve the newspaper, who will use the last five drops of milk in his or her coffee, and who will decide where to meet for lunch.

That’s the typical morning routine that I engage in on Saturdays and Sundays alone. During the work week, I negotiate with business associates, with retail store employees, with bank tellers, with grocery store cashiers, and with taxi drivers, not to mention dealing with a fairly long list of requests demanded by my children, of course.

So you see how valuable it is to have good training in negotiating tactics.

Here’s the second reason I think a law school education is helpful: you get to know how to get around the law.

Take the simple “do not enter” sign. How often have you seen that sign and been deterred from going where you want to go? How often have you had to pack up your suitcase and rush out of a hotel room before the 11:00 a.m. checkout time? How often have you had to pay your income taxes? (Just kidding, all you IRS agents out there.)

How often have you heard someone say, “You can’t do that” or “We can’t do that” or “Nobody can do that?” When you’re a lawyer, you don’t blindly accept those statements; you take them as a personal challenge.

Going to law school means never having to take “no” for an answer, with the possible exception of when an aforementioned IRS agent says it. There’s almost always a way to accomplish your goal if you learn how to approach every problem as if there must be a solution. Of course, that’s what lawyers get paid to help you with, but if you get the education and you can develop the correct mindset, most of the time you won’t need no stinkin’ lawyer to help you out. Look at the money you’ll save by attending law school for yourself.

Which brings me to the third advantage of going to law school and perhaps the most important reason I think everybody should have a legal education: you learn when you should call a lawyer. You may think that’s a trivial reason for spending so many hours reading cases about plaintiffs and defendants, but you’d be surprised how often people go to a lawyer too late in the game.

For example, in real estate only a small percentage of home buyers consult a lawyer before they sign what the real estate agents call a “binder,” but which lawyers know is a contract. Turns out, the lawyer they select has one hand tied behind his or her back, since the client has already agreed to certain terms and conditions and forfeited some options in that binder agreement. Usually, it would have cost the buyer the same to engage the lawyer before the binder was signed as after.

In the patent business, where I spend most of my time, I can’t tell you how often inventors approach me more than a year after they’ve publicly disclosed their invention. That’s a shame. The patent law states that an inventor cannot obtain a patent unless the invention has been publicly disclosed, if at all, for less than a year. If the inventor had made the appointment with me a year earlier, he might have obtained a patent. But because he didn’t know when to call a lawyer, he’s  out of luck. That’s why Mr. Rubik never received a patent for Rubik’s Cube, by the way.

So there you have it. Everybody should go to law school to learn how to negotiate, learn not to take “no” for an answer, and learn when to call a lawyer. Luckily, it’s never too late to go to law school, so start saving up for the tuition now. I should have mentioned that earlier.

Hey, tuition fees may be negotiable. If you look for loopholes, as we say in the legal biz, and you don’t take “no” for an answer, you’re already on your way to being a lawyer. See how easy that is?

The Litchfields Copyright Lynda Barreto

At Grandma Teri’s House

Grandma slowly steps down
the yellow stairs,
her left hand on the banister,
her right twitching to a silent beat.
Her fading red hair matches
the paint on her fingernails—
she is a sunset.

She takes me to the grocery store
where I watch her inspect
a cluster of grapes,
turning them over in her hands
as if they are jewels.

The four of us help her decorate
for Christmas, mounting garlands on
the figures of two white dogs which sit
on opposite sides of the fireplace.  I perch
little angels by the long vases filled with glass
rocks, by the white figurines of ballet dancers,
and by the plastic fruit on the table
I always think is real.

While my parents talk
with her, my sister and I take out
the box of checkers which rattle
with pennies since there are not enough
pieces inside.  As we play,
I hear them laughing.

My sister and I are then hustled downstairs
for bed where I walk past the shelf
of framed photographs and I stop
in front of one of my family and her—
my sister and I in our pajamas,
our hair still wet from the pool—
standing in her front yard, ready for the ride home.

Diari

(Translated by Emanuel Di Pasquale)

I
Prima  notte, seconda notte. Qui le cose hanno sempre meno bisogno della nostra presenza.

Sotto questo tetto, dentro i nostri occhi, oltre i visi ncontratti. Ognuno tiene per sé parti del ricordo.

Solo qualche volta, in qualche stanza, appaiono le cose senza di noi. Grazie alla nostra assenza.

Pare che abbiamo gli occhi chiusi, invece muoviamo lo sguardo e sembriamo lenti in quest’ azione.

L’animale attraversa il prato. Lo si vede correre, come se inseguisse qualcosa. Oppure è solo il nostro inseguire qualcosa.

Come quando erano partiti, senza chiedere indirizzi, credendo di poter vivere con le sole tracce.

Ognuno ora pensa al tono di voce, disperso tra le cose, tra le domande che sono più difficili da fare.

Perché adesso si è come chiusi, seduti alla fine di una frase, insieme ad altri suoni, non uditi.

Journals

I
First  night, second night. Here things need our presence
less and less.

Under this roof, inside our eyes, beyond the contracted faces.
Each holds on to parts of the memory.

Only sometimes, in some room, things appear without
us. Thanks to our absence.

It seems that we have our eyes closed; instead, we shift our look and seem slow doing so.

The beast crosses the field.  One sees it run, as if it were
following something. Perhaps it’s only our following something.

As when they departed, without asking for addresses, believing they could live with traces only.

Each now thinks of the tone of the voice, dispersed among the things, among the questions that are the most difficult to ask.

Because now it is like being closed, sitting at the end of a phrase, together with other sounds, unheard.

Alziamo le braccia, vogliamo qualcosa da fare, ce lo chiediamo a tratti, pronti a credere di averlo trovato.

Gli altri sono già partiti, passati. Hanno superato il confine dove è difficile  crederli  veri.

Ci sono molte ombre qui. Alcune fanno parte del luogo, altre appartengono a noi.

Rumori dalle scale. Allora si pensa agli altri, al loro salire e scendere, a cosa facciano e dove vadano.

Quando apriamo la porta è come se non fossimo mai usciti di qui. O meglio, l’ultima  volta non eravamo le stesse persone.

Cambiare i vestiti, il volto, le parole. Con brevi pause, brevi silenzi, ora siamo quelli che altri  vedranno.

We raise our arms, wanting something to do, suddenly asking
ourselves, ready to believe we’ve found it.

The others have already departed, passed by. They’ve gone beyond the border where it’s difficult to believe they’re real.

Here are many shadows. Some are part of the place, others belong to us.

Noises from the stairs. One thinks of the others then, of their going up and down, of what they might do and where they might go.

When we open the door, it’s as if we had never left
here.  Or better, the last time we were not the same people.

To change clothes, words, face. With brief pauses, brief
silences, now we are those that others will  see.

 _________________

II

E’ meglio non sapere, a volte. Lasciare le cose circolare, lasciare che ci passino accanto e solo dopo pensarle.

Per esempio, ora non sappiamo molto di più di questa stagione. Solo il fatto che muta, imprevedibile, vicino ai laghi.

Siamo estranei alla stagione, noi. Siamo fuori e solo possiamo assorbire il suo comportamento, diverso.

Né vorremmo capirne di più. E’ come avere una certa distanza che ci fa ragionare di essa.

Crea argomenti, discorsi sul clima che comunque non li richiede. Siamo noi che entriamo nella discussione.

II

It’s  best not to know at times. To let things flow, to let them
pass nearby and to think of them only later.

For example, right now we don’t know much about this season.
Only the fact that it changes, unpredictable, near the lakes.

We’re strangers to the season. We’re outside and can only
absorb its different behavior.

Nor would we like to know more about it.  It’s like having a certain distance that makes us think about it.

It creates arguments, discussions on the climate which doesn’t ask for them. It’s we who enter the discussion. 

_________________

III   (Sull’idea  di attendere)

In posizione d’attesa si estendono i pensieri, vanno a creare forme del dire che poi si perdono.

In attesa che qualcosa cominci si guarda all’esterno. E’ il momento in cui un animale appare.

Nei momenti d’attesa, senza vento, ci si rifiuta di credere che altri siano già passati da qui.

Emergono ombre, nell’attendere. Come quelle che ieri sera ci circondavano, sicure di se stesse.

Si cambiano i numeri dei nostri conti, seduti in attesa. La vita li richiede, a volte molto tardi, la sera.

III  (On the idea of waiting)

In  the waiting  attitude, thoughts reach out, create ways
of saying things that then are lost.

Waiting for something to begin one looks out. That’s the
moment in which an animal appears.

In the moments of waiting, windless, one refuses to believe that others have already gone by here.

In the waiting, shadows emerge. Like those that surrounded us
last night, certain of themselves.

As we sit and wait, the numbers of our accounts change.
Life summons them, at times quite late, at night.

______________________

IV   (Dei futuri)

Si potrà dire qui eravamo noi, nella foto, sulla mappa o luogo. Si dirà qui siamo stati, ieri.

Senza un senso non sarà possibile fare prove per riuscire a dire. Per lasciare tracce sull’albero.

Non sarà possibile descrivere questo prato se qualcosa non sarà accaduto, a produrne il ricordo.

La finestra sarà chiusa, qualcosa di simile al congedo di chi parte. Sarà un’altra presenza a dettare il tempo.

La porta sarà chiusa. Non si aspetterà più la chiave per entrare. Sarà già dopo.

Questa è la strada da cui saremo passati, quando lasciata questa zona saremo noi a raccontare d’esserci  stati.

IV (On futures)

We’ll be able to say we were here, in the photo, on the map, or in the place.  We’ll say, here we were, yesterday.

Without a meaning it will not be possible to speak. To leave traces on the tree.

It will not be possible to describe this field unless something has happened, to create a memory of it.

The window will be closed, like the gesture of departure. Another presence will  dictate time.

The door will be closed. The key will no longer be needed. It will already be already.

This is the road. After leaving this
zone we’ll tell the story of our having been here.

Mario Moroni was born in Italy in 1955. He moved to the United States in 1989. He has taught at Yale University, the University of Memphis and Colby College. He currently teaches Italian at  Binghamton University.  Moroni has published seven volumes of poetry and one of poetic prose. In 1989 he was awarded the Lorenzo Montano prize for poetry.

sitting at 14^th and Broadway
staring up at steeple on Grace Church
I often wonder if Pascal smoked
contemplating spires watching smoke

rise like wagering thoughts in white
bursts of heat climbing crockets until
field of vision diminishes to
point of vanishment from earth cross

perched on pyramid sight passes
infinity streaming stratosphere
into nothingness of space and on
and on and on directly to

void of sound, color and reason
uncrossed by paths until it reaches
outer limits of understanding
and intuitively arrives

at same spark in electric thought
that is the origin of our soul

Raymond Hammond is a poet, critic and editor of the New York Quarterly magazine since assuming control after the death of William Packard in 2002.

Brooklyn-1950

The Three Families from Istanbul

 In our neighborhood lived three Sephardi families —
     The Levys, The Hattems, and The Abrevayas —
all cousins, all from Istanbul, who would take their slow
evening strolls in the spring and summertime, all together,
the men in front, shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped
behind their back, with their wives following. Passing by,
they would not to speak to us Eastern European Jews,
but would deign to nod and perhaps half-wave
in our direction as a sign that they had seen us,
and were resigned to our existence. As we sat
in the spring and summertime high on our brick porches,
I watched them pass, and listened to their strange,
distant, medieval Spanish bobbing in their wake,
and I wondered if it was true that they kept under their beds
the iron keys to the gates of their Iberian houses.

Myron Ernst was co-owner with his wife Shirley of a Montessori School in Vestal, New York. Retired, he is a frequent contributor to ragazine.cc. His work has appeared in many other publications.

Dude, Take Me Apart

The deconstructivist art

 of Roger Williams

Photos Courtesy of Larry Hamill

Roger Williams, now a voice  from  Columbus, Ohio, went to New York  as  a postmodernist artist in 1978, and lived  there for 15 years.  He worked  for art galleries, including  John Weber,  Nina Nosaie and Al Salvatore, and for artists Sol Lewitt and Basquiat. His paintings were shown in Soho, the East Village and uptown galleries.   Here he speaks about his art and career.

A commission, under deconstruction

     
I came back to Columbus in 1993 to take care of a sick friend.  That year I joined the deconstructivist movement with information that I learned in New York.     Deconstructivist (alternatively called “deconstructionist”) art is an outgrowth of postmodern art, a thought  process  by which you analyze … tear apart, the existing  academia.    

Singing Smilies ... 46" x 48"

The result is a lot more energy, with use of conceptual properties overlapping, and layering of rhythms and transparencies. According to the architect Frank Gehry, you can deconstruct anything.

Party on the Island of La Grande Jatte ... 43" x 60"

Gehry deconstructed a fish in Barcelona .  With that in mind I deconstructed  a number of portraits,  cartoon characters,  people, objects, and events that define the decade. 

Gee Haw Whittle Diddle ... 72" x 72"

  
I have my my own  style of deconstructionism. It is formally articulated and the drawing goes to painting dark lines and flat shapes with bright transparent color,   with rolled-on glazes and arbitrary overlaps to find space. 

Mojo the Monkey ... 43" x 60"

The technique is not so painterly or pickled, but with sharp crisp lines with a straight edge built for each task. The subject is very important, as the lyrics must define current events and recent history. This tells the viewer where I am in time. 

Rap Boy ... 48" x 48"

Hometown art-politics here (in Columbus) translates into a popular appreciation for folk art, outsider, untrained, and prison art.  I am the only deconstructivist artist in town . 

Elijah Pierce: Woodcarver, Barber

I have Resistance, but I also have pieces in  many important collections, corporate, private and public.  This  month I am working on five commisions, including a  7′ x 12′ mural called Flight of the Dragon Fly deconstructed  for Cosi’s 10th anniversary celebration. It will be installed at the Cosi building, 333 West Broad Street, Columbus. 

Deconstructed Ellipse

I  have made the transition to deconstructionism and  plan to continue   

The Theater of Service:

Winnie Owens and Patty Minkler

By Jonathan Evans 

Colorado City, CO — I went to see the latest production at The Playhouse in Rye recently, not really knowing what to expect.  What I saw was a fun amateur comedy, primarily acted by teenagers; it had been rehearsed and produced in only four weeks and in the circumstances, it was a very brave effort.

The following morning I went back to the Theater to talk with Winnie Owens and Patty Minkler, the co-directors of the show.  I have to say that I had been warned that Winnie was a spiky lady, hard to pin down and outspoken when she was.  Patty is the local deputy sheriff in Colorado City, a forceful and prominent member of the locality- and not somebody I would have normally associated with the ancient art of Theater.  I came away from the meeting with my ideas completely turned around, not only about these members of the Greenhorn Valley community but about the role that theater can play in all our lives.  

Winnie was born in Butte, Montana, settled with her husband in Rye in 1966 and has been with the Greenhorn Valley Players for twenty years.   She took her two children to an audition for a play in the late eighties and never looked back.  Painfully shy as a child herself, she admits, theater and acting have given her greater self-confidence but went on to draw my attention to the fact that she’d still felt more comfortable wearing a Halloween mask when she’d introduced the show from the stage the night before.  This is not a woman who wants to hog the limelight and she is still frightened by the stage lights!

With an incredibly hectic life spread between the running of her home, a long-term job as liaison at the Muddy Creek Ranch and her position and responsibilities as president of the Playhouse Theater, Winnie has total commitment to Theater.  For her it is the ultimate art form and medium for self-expression, incorporating fiction, art, acting and the nitty-gritty magic of live performance.

“What you see is what you get”, she says, “right there in front of your eyes.”   She might well be talking about herself.

 This year she has seen five plays onto the stage in Rye, acted in three of them and directed two.

Patty comes from Beulah and has been in law-enforcement for twenty four years.  She has been active in the Lions Club and their distribution of food and care packages and is head of the Parade of Lights, a project very important to her because, she says, it serves to unite the towns of Rye and Colorado City at Christmas.  Most essential to her, is her service in the schools with young people and with the elderly in the community.  For her, a new involvement with the Greenhorn Valley Players and the Rye Playhouse has been an extension of this service, in a life spent looking for new ways to serve.

 She came on board as an actress to play a cop in the production of ‘Spirit’ early in 2009, got the bug and stayed on.   Patty loves to sew and makes all the costumes for the shows as well as recently moving into the role of director.

Between the two of them, they have been instrumental in the cleaning, the revamping and the makeover that the Playhouse has had recently.  With further ambitions to improve the seating, the interior and exterior, the building itself has gone from an old Mercantile store to the comfortable, well-lit ninety-five seat theater that it currently is.  And one has the sense that their work on this theater has only just begun.

But by far the most important role that they have seen for the theater goes beyond the next play or the next production.  For Winnie and Patty, the theater is about family and community building and about preserving local history and culture.  For some families, the theater is a thread of continuity which runs throughout their lives, as they take part in productions as children, grow up and have their own children do the same.  Acting can be a great confidence builder and can take the participants into realms that they never even dreamed existed. 

Theater, too, is the great educator as it holds a mirror up to life, up to our own faces and follies, both as actors and audience, and explores, exposes and in the end, applauds our common efforts.  It can bond a society, actors to audience, in a way that no other art form can.  It is a shared experience that can affect the way that each and every one of us sees ourselves and each other. You have to be brave to participate on the stage of everyday existence and theater is no less demanding.

Ed note: With this issue, ragazine.cc begins a search for what’s happening in the far reaches of America, and the globe. We’d like to know more about theater, art events, musicians, etc. We’re looking for quality writing/reporting from the heartland and the hinterlands to share with a growing global audience. If you write about music, theater or art, take photographs, record poetry and song, or have an idea for an article that highlights something special in your world, from the arts to politics to economics, keep us in mind. We need all the help we can get!

Iceland: Land of Contrast

‘Other-worldly” — those are the words that come to mind as you travel Iceland’’s “Ring Road” and try to describe what you’’re seeing. From glaciers to fjords, from black sand beaches to steam-spewing geysers, from desolate “moonscapes” to starkly beautiful mountains and waterfalls, no two places are quite the same. And they’’re all unforgettable.

With its ever-changing weather, Iceland is a photographer’s dream. No two days, no two hours, are ever alike. Wait two minutes and the light will change. The clouds  are among the most dramatic I’’ve ever seen. This island nation, which borders the Arctic Circle, sparks creativity at every turn and is one of the most visually exciting locations I’ve ever visited.

The mountain range, Víkurfjall, with its reflection in a pond,
dominates along the east coast.

A steampot at the geothermal area of Hveravellir. Iceland
is one of the most active volcanic regions in the world.

Barren landscape surrounds  Mount Lomagnupur along
Iceland’s Ring Road in  Suðurland, the south.

The turquoise-colored water at the Blue Lagoon, situated
in a lava field and created by geothermal water.

Clouds hang over the highland desert.

Mountains covered with moss by the coast near Iceland’s Ring Road
in Suðurland, the south.

Four-wheel-drive vehicles drive the Kjolur Route through the
highland desert.

Icebergs in the lagoon at the bottom of Vatnajökull,
the largest glacier in Iceland.

Chuck Haupt is based in upstate New York. His award-winning work during a 30-year career at the Binghamton Press & Sun-Bulletin is recognized throughout the region for its impact and excellence. Chuck is known for his captivating images of residents of New York’s Southern Tier, images that reveal character and evoke a powerful response.

His work as a photojournalist has taken him to a wide variety of places, from hospital operating rooms to professional golf tournaments, to lower Manhattan in the hours after the 9/11 attacks, and into the homes of ordinary people with extraordinary stories to tell.

Ragazine INTERVIEW:

When did you get into photography?

I always had an eye for details and started with a Kodak Instamatic that I got free from saving box tops way back when. In 1965 I got a Polaroid “Swinger” and soon after my first 35 mm. I haven’t stopped shooting since.

How does your approach to photography differ between what you shoot as a news photog and what you shoot ‘for fun’?

When shooting a news assignment you are shooting something specific, usually to accompany a story and reach a specific publication’s audience. When shooting for fun, you are seeing things in a different light.

Have you done much with digital photography?

I have been shooting in digital since the first the first Nikon D1 came out in 1999. I have made the change back to “full frame,” now that models of the “FX” digital camera with 12.1 megapixel sensor has been released. At first you really had size limitations with the 2.7 megapixel sensor of the early digital cameras. Today, if you want to spend the money, you can shoot 35mm with up to a 24.4 megapixel sensor. Shooting RAW format gives you all the control you need in preparing your images for publications or prints, the same, I feel, as when shooting film.

What do you think the future is for young people who want to enter the profession of photography?

If you have the passion for making photographs, nothing will stop you. You’re going to have to work hard at it to get yourself established, creating a niche. Whether you shoot for publications, stock photography, events, or fine art, there will be a market for quality images. While technology has improved the ‘point & shoot’ camera the past couple of years, you still need an eye for composition and for capturing the moment.

Do you worry about what happens with your work when it reaches cyberspace, such as publishing in ragazine?

Yes, it is so easy for people to download photos off of a web page. Most don’t understand photography is copyrighted for use. That’s why it is important to copyright a body of images to protect your work when infringement occurs.

What’s your favorite photo? Why?

Legendary photographer W. Eugene Smith’s “The Walk to Paradise Garden,” a photo of his two children walking hand in hand toward a clearing in woods. It was the first image he made after he was seriously injured and hadn’t been shooting for a long time. The photograph hangs in my home to remind me of the power an image can have on you.

Would you rather photograph people, places or things?

All three — it depends on my mood. I started shooting “rocks and trees” when I first discovered photography. Being exposed to photojournalism during high school got me interested in being able to tell people’s stories visually, which I went on to do professionally for 36 years. Now that I’m retired from the newspaper profession, I’m getting back into those rocks and trees. Still, I’ll never tire of wanting to shoot that interesting face and tell the story behind it.

More images from Iceland, and many other subjects, can be viewed on Haupt’s web site: http://www.chuckhaupt.com. He can be contacted by e-mail at chaupt@chuckhaupt.com.

© 2009 Chuck Haupt

Model citizens by day, ideal citizens by night:

Colorado City’s ‘Ideal Citizens’

 By Jonathan Evans

The ‘Ideal Citizens’, Colorado City’s premier (and only) punk rock band is one of the area’s best-kept secrets.  As there are few opportunities to play music in this locality, the band plays mainly in Pueblo where they say, they have played every venue, every bar and every dive at least ten times and still keep being asked back.  They’ve played parties, weddings and bar mitzvahs but at this point, say that they are ready to expand their assault on the Colorado youth front and want to work further afield.  The College circuit up north is one obvious place for them to go, as options down south are very limited.

I caught up with them in a large garage next to Dean Agee’s house in the west of Colorado City where they were rehearsing one night.  Outside there was a blizzard as the third storm in two weeks struck hard; inside, a blizzard of sound assaulted me as I ducked inside to escape the heavy snow.

 The band, a foursome consisting of Dean on drums, Louis Wirth on guitar, Jimmy Macdonald on bass guitar and Jeremiah Perez on main vocals, was set up by a warm wood stove in front of a mud-splattered Jeep.  They were running through their set list, grouped together on their makeshift stage, Dean smashing fast rhythms on his drum kit, Louis bashing out chords, Jimmy pinning it all together with throbbing runs up and down the neck of his bass and Jeremiah facing in towards the musicians, his voice rising and falling above the music.  They varied the tempo of their songs, alternating between fast boogies, hardcore punk rocker shout-outs and softer numbers.  They write all their own material and song writing duties are shared equally.  Not all their songs are fast punk rockers although the band is adamant that they are a punk band.  ‘Hallways’, written by Louis, is an outstandingly melodic number with a rich chord sequence and intriguing words.  The ‘Ideal Citizens’ have an engaging way of taking a relatively conventional pop song like this and smearing it with feedback, rhythm and attitude so that the basic structure of the song is almost unrecognisable. The band is capable of playing a sugar-sweet melody but merging it with filthy distortion and head- shattering rhythm.   They produce music which is often poignant and always danceable and this is a rare quality in a genre which, to an oldie like me, is often repetitive and monotonous. All the members of the band sing so that even the hardest numbers have harmony. They have the ability to tether meaty classic rock hooks with a sludgy, rumbling bass and martial drumming;  combining this heavy sound with sharp melodic vocals results in an often attractive hard rock sound which can transcend the implied violence of their punk attitude.  I came away from the rehearsal session feeling that the ‘Ideal Citizens’ might rough you up a bit but would then want to kiss and make up!  It’s an appealing combination and really, I thought, these are sweet young guys.  Above all, the music is rhythmic and is driven along by Dean Agee’s polyrhythmic drum energy; there is no doubt that he is a strong asset to the band.

However, most interesting to me is that all the group members are normal guys in real life.  Away from the rock n’ roll stage, they say, they all dress properly, have occupations, homes and families.  They feel keenly that they come from this community and are part of this community; they pay their taxes, although the accident-prone, bass-player Jimmy says that he mostly pays hospital bills.  He is currently recuperating from a serious knee injury although I couldn’t see that it was cramping his style too much.

Louis, a fourth year Psychology major at university in Pueblo, is as near to being the leader as the democracy of the band allows. It is he who keeps the equipment together, conducts the band’s business and is perhaps most ambitious for the band.  He feels keenly that it’s vital for the band to get a CD of their music out and to expand the area of their gigging.

 The music industry is in the midst of a technological revolution in its distribution right now; CDs don’t sell much anymore as music is circulated and acquired through downloading and all bands are facing changing times and this same problem.  How a band is to make money and earn a living through music is currently a debatable issue; like most bands, the ‘Ideal Citizens’ have to rely on live performances in an area where venues are scarce and getting scarcer and where pay is generally poor.

But money is the least of the issues the band faces.   They say

“Our goal is not to get rich but to achieve true originality; in general we lose money by plowing all we make straight back into the band anyway.”

And says Louis,  “We’re not here for a long time, we’re here for a good time!”

When they play, their transformation from regular guys to party animals is striking; these guys are committed to their music and have never missed a gig.  They would like to thank E Man for his constant support of the band and his invaluable help in recording their music. To all their loyal fans too, they would like to say a big Thank You!  Ten of their songs may be heard on the Net at Myspace.com/IdealCitizens and their itinerary can be found by emailing the band at theidealcitizens@yahoo.com.  They are looking for a manager who will show them the way to the next step in the rock n’ roll ladder; anyone who thinks he can help should get in touch with the group. 

For these four young men, success is being able to pay the bills and to move onto the next gig; after more than two years on the road, the ‘Ideal Citizens’ are in for the long haul.  It takes all kinds to make up our community and, in my book, the ‘Ideal Citizens’ live up to their name.

Ed note: With this issue, ragazine.cc begins a search for what’s happening in the far reaches of America, and the globe. We’d like to know more about theater, art events, musicians, etc. We’re looking for quality writing/reporting from the heartland and the hinterlands to share with a growing global audience. If you write about music, theater or art, take photographs, record poetry and song, or have an idea for an article that highlights something special in your world, from the arts to politics to economics, keep us in mind. We need all the help we can get!