Thursday, June 7, 2018

JOEY KELLY'S BIRTHDAY BASH

June 6, 2018, Puma Perl and Friends played Sidewalk Cafe to celebrate Joey Kelly's birthday. Friends were (l-r Dave Donen, drums, Joff Wilson, guitar, Joe Sztabnik, bass, and to my right, Danny Ray, sax. Photo by David W. Stoler.


We did a combination of old and new material. I wanted to close with my poem, "The Last Collage," but it somehow flew off of the music stand and they had already started the Nico-inspired drone so I made something up. Wish I could remember it.

Also on the bill were Joey Kelly's Dive Bar Romeos, Crazy Mary, and The Robert Kennedy Assassination (fittingly for the 50th anniversary of his death.)


Tuesday, June 5, 2018

THE BARBIE SERIES

THE BARBIE SERIES

Two of these photos have been exhibited on sold. This is a selection of my Barbie Series.







Monday, June 4, 2018

A Slice of the Apple

Several years ago, I was hired as the photo editor and curator for an upcoming book, "A Slice of the Apple," which documented the downtown NYC poetry scene during a specific period, circa 2008-2012. The publisher was to be Spiny Babble Press. I had also had several poems accepted. As we worked on the book together, two of the three editors involved became ill and passed away. The third developed heart problems and underwent a triple bypass. (None of the three were elderly, as a point of information.) The project was put on hold indefinitely but is now being revisited. Below is the artist's statement that I was asked to submit, and a selection of my photographs and photographs that I curated.




Artist’s Statement
       Puma Perl

I began documenting the poetry scene for the same reasons that I crossed over from the written word to the spoken word to the performance piece: immediacy. Capturing the moment, the impulse, unexpected, the unplanned. The sound of an audience shocked into silence, or bursting into spontaneous applause.  Somebody crying. Maybe the performer, his or herself.

It’s two artists who have never met before reading one another’s work, or creating a collaborative dance that will never again be
experienced.

It’s a poet throwing away the poems and, fighting back tears, telling a story about her life.

It’s losing your place and improvising a much better piece, which you will never remember.

It’s the brilliant artist who disappears.

It’s my performance partner cutting off my clothes while I read and suddenly chopping off a hunk of my hair.

People often ask us why we do it. There are stock answers, but the best one, to me, is the only alternative is NOT to do it. Do. Or not do.
That’s it.

I hope these photos, created by Jodi Lynn Concepcion, Stas Pix Nuke, and myself, bring a chaos mixed with passion. Enter the moment.



Big Mike, Puma Perl, founders of DDAY Productions, in front of Bowery Poetry Club, pre-renovation, Jodi Lynn Concepcion, 2010



     Brant Lyon, RIP, founding editor, Battery Park, Make Music New York, 
                                                       Puma Perl, 2009

Bob Hart, Bowery Poetry Club, Jodi Lynn Concepcion, 2011

           Amy Uzi, Backstage at Bowery Poetry Club's New Years Day 
                            Alternative Marathon, Puma Perl, 2011


Aimee Herman, Bowery Poetry Club, Stas Pix, 2011

Kat Georges, DADA party for Maintenant, Cornelia Street Cafe,                                      Puma Perl, 2011

ABC No Rio, pre-renovation, Puma Perl, 2012

         Frank Simone, Editor, RIP, JuJoMakti Tea Lounge, Puma Perl, 2012


                      Liza Wolsky, Bowery Poetry Club, Stas Pix, 2011
                         
                     Poets George Wallace and Rob Plath, Mars Bar following  
                                "The Beat Poetry Hour," Puma Perl, 2009

                         
Professor Steve Cannon, founder of Tribes, Poets House, Puma Perl, 2012

The Poetry Brothel, First Annual NY Poetry Festival, Governor's Island, 
                                                   Puma Perl, 2010

The New York Press Association Award

I posted previously  about my gratitude in winning the First Place Award for my article, "Tattoo Exhibit Extolls the Lasting Impressions of a Marked Up Man," about the South Street Seaport Museum's  2017 exhibit tracing the maritime roots of modern tattooing as exemplified by the work of the late Gus Wagner. This is the link:

http://chelseanow.com/2017/02/tattoo-exhibit-extolls-the-lasting-impressions-of-a-marked-up-man/

One of my photographs also appears in the piece:



And this is the Plaque! Thanks to Arts Editor Scott Stiffler for his encouragement and critical expertise. Downtown Express and Chelsea Now are two of seven paper published under the umbrella of The Villager.






MAINTENANT 12: A Journal of Contemporary Dada Writing & Art

Thank you, Three Rooms Press, for including me in the acclaimed annual international journal of dada writing and art, Maintenant. This is my 11th consecutive appearance in the publication, which is archived in The Museum of Modern Art, NYC, as well as museums and galleries worldwide.

This years theme was "We are all a like," a take on people's instant actions to "like" and "dislike" without deep thought and consideration. Naturally, social media comes into play.

I was part of the reading and book release party that took place at Cornelia Street Cafe, NYC, on Friday, June 1, 2018.

Photo of me by Kat Georges, co-founder and co-editor, with Peter Carlaftes, Three Rooms Press. Beneath is my photo of Diva, the Wonder Dog, meditating on the intricacies of Dada.




My poem can be found on Page 95:

-->
I Like You Like You: A Conversation

Do you like Tony?
I like him okay.
I mean do you like him like him?
I don’t LIKE him like him. I like him as a friend.
How come you don’t like him like him?
I don’t know. I just like him like I like him.
I think he likes you, though.
Maybe, but I like someone else.
WHO?
I’d rather not say.
Come on. I won’t say anything.
OK, but you better not. (Whispers name.)
You can’t like him. He likes Melissa.
He likes her likes her?
Yeah, she told me he told her he likes her likes her.
Aw, man.
You should just like Tony.
I guess I could like him.
You may as well.
Yeah. He’s okay.