My close friend, and sometimes mentor, Ian shares the spotlight of an iconic 1980’s Patrick McMullan photograph with his then boyfriend, Tom Ford. Over the past few months I’ve become obsessed with the photo and all the meaning that I’ve applied to it. The photo was taken outside of Studio 54, when both were in their early twenties. Today, Tom Ford is a fashion icon. Ian is an incredible and incredibly successful artist. But there they were, still children in my opinion, together at a party.
The relationship between scene and art plagues me. All I can speak of are my insecurities and testimonials, but I find for someone like myself the two must be bound.
Perhaps this is a product of Warhol adoration, or the lives of art stars like Ryan McGinley or Keith Haring. All are, or were, well publicized and it seems for social activity as much as their art.
Paul and I dance. A lot. I’ve fallen under the wing of Manhattan’s greatest hosts (promoters). There is never want for a party or free alcohol. Somewhere, out there, one is waiting. I am a Coppola kid. He delivers, hands down, the most interesting and liveliest group of people. I’ve been one of Zackery Michael’s and a Six Six Sick girl. Finally, and most important to this endeavor, I found a promoter who is also an artist: Chris Tucci. We will return to this.
We do not have Studio 54. We do have The Box and Beatrice. And contrary to certain belief, Bungalow 8 is still exciting and The Plumm, when filled with the right people is the most ridiculous of all. The Plumm, more than any other, is ours. So Paul and I go, and we dance and we drink, sometimes excessively.
More important, however, than the indulgences and the sometimes celebrity faces: A. Art is discussed. B. Art is made.
A.
Paul is a very talented artist with an incredibly sincere and likable style. From illustration to painting to his sketches he continues to demonstrate his unique eye and mind. His art could well stand on its own, but coupled with his personality I have no doubt in his future. He captures life and freezes time.
Chris Tucci’s art is so mind bogglingly detail oriented. It draws immediate comparisons to Edward Gorey, but manic. It has soul, and a twisted one at that. His project: I’ve never had more faith in a peer’s substance and output.
My art… well that is my writing. I have less to show for myself than the others: a blog, two unpublished manuscripts, a slew of prose poems and everyone’s favorite: short stories. Still, I am educated and consider myself an artist. I consider the amount of myself I pour forth into my writing a fundamental part of the artist’s process.
I met Paul at a Diesel party. I met Chris at The Plumm. I introduced them at LaZarza. Relationships were forged with drink and dance. Bacchus would be proud.
And we add substance to this scene, our scene, because we recognize that we exist outside of it to make what our very body lives for. I think that art and its artists must be seen, such is the trend. It is at The Box that I talk manuscripts. It’s at The Plumm where I talk screenplays. It is at Beatrice where, yes, I actually talked web television scripts. Others before us were inspired by similar places, by everything beautiful and grotesque they saw there. We are no different.
B.
The scene is documented. Much like what Patrick McMullan did for Studio 54, a Coppola kid and consistently the richest spirit in the room, Libby Broocks photographs. She is our creator. We are the subject. Both are showcased on Fulltime Friend. (I’ve been having a debate over this for the longest time, perhaps Libby’s subjective vision is the subject and we -the image- are the creator. That’s a conversation for another day. But most importantly…) She finds life in us. In both candid and mildly, consciously staged photos we become the faces defining the scene for our generation.
And what then plagues me? Will Paul and I be the next Ian and Tom Ford? Are we the subjects/creators that will fashion an iconic photograph with Libby? Will we take advantage of the resources provided by all of us artists thrown together with no inhibition? Or are we just kids partying?
I’d argue we are something more (and can if you’d like me to) and I have no doubt that all of us spend our time trying to prove it, both in the studio and at a club.
