Hard to be sure, but I think this chap was supposed to be Moctezuma, the last independent king of the Aztecs, or something with that flavor. It’s not obvious from this angle, but his cape is the Mexican flag, which might be seen a disrespectful.
There is a Dia de los Muertos street party in another part of town tomorrow and I may check it out.
While working the crowd at the Central West End Halloween party, I came across a colorfully dressed family speaking Spanish to one another. I’m not up on popular culture so maybe a reader can identify the theme. My Spanish isn’t very good so I asked permission for a snap in English. ¡Ciertamente! They were out there to be seen.
Lots us us shooters are uncomfortable photographing people in the street. I’ve been taught how to go about it by the best teacher I've ever had for anything ever, Bobbi Lane, https://www.facebook.com/profile.php/?id=100063709410534 . It’s still awkward for those of us who only do so occasionally but there are times when it’s easy. Public events where people want to be seen are the best. Just an “Excuse me, ladies. May I?” never gets a turn down at something like STL’s Halloween party.
A candy store for local photographers: on the Saturday before Halloween, our Central West End neighborhood has a big public Halloween party in Maryland Plaza. The strange side of St. Louis shows up in force. Curbside bars (but not food stands) line the surrounding streets. Costumes range from simple to wildly creative, and there is a contest that we will come to. Plenty of things that go bump in the night.
All members of the same family, partly blocking my view of the passing parade of strange people at the Renaissance Festival. The only thing to do was to make them my next target. I may be an old no-fun frump, but I couldn’t imagine dressing like this. But that raises another question - am I just being a voyeur?
A warm-up act before the jousting involved tossing a metal beer keg back and over the head. Most of the contestants were burly men with thick beards, aggressive looks and covered in tattoos. However, some of the women refused to cede the field. This one got off a good throw.
A family watches an aerial dance act at the Renaissance Festival. Each seems to have their own filters. Maybe the boy in the Harry Potter outfit can conjure up some excitement.
Jade idol? Shrek’s weird aunt? For Americans of a certain age, someone from the valley of the Jolly (ho ho ho) Green Giant? This woman and her similarly-made up male companion entered the festival grounds with us. We never figured out what they were about, not that they were in our sight the whole time.
And what’s with the red fingernails against all that green and the tan bag? Inquiring minds want to know.
One of the first acts the family encountered when we arrived at the Renaissance Festival was Ace and Rosie, a charming young couple from Minnesota who perform as The Courting Jesters. (They are an item but not married, so, get it?) He is a juggler - balls, knives, flaming torches, or all at the same time. She is a hula hoop adept, spinning up to 10 at a time from her neck to her ankles. She can even spin a hoop on her nose.
And funny, too. Locals, there is one last weekend to see them at the festival. https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61565555291701
Now that’s eye contact. Halloween is a big, commercialized deal in the United States and this visitor to the Renaissance Festival looks ready to dish out more tricks than treats. No knocking on her door.
So-called renaissance festivals have become a fixture around the U.S. and, I think, Europe. We took Ellie yesterday. People dress in all sorts of strange costumes, very loosely in line with the theme. This man attended with his nephew. He told me he had immigrated from Denmark about four years ago (although his speech made it obvious that this was made up) and started a farm in the region. Friendly, garrulous and happy to pose, but he kept addressing me as grandfather. Is it that obvious?
So-called renaissance festivals have become a fixture around the U.S. and, I think, Europe. We took Ellie yesterday. People dress in all sorts of strange costumes, very loosely in line with the theme. This man attended with his nephew. He told me he had immigrated from Denmark about four years ago (although his speech made it obvious that this was made up) and started a farm in the region. Friendly, garrulous and happy to pose, but he kept addressing me as grandfather. Is it that obvious?
There seems to be a sense of determination in these Artica attendees but there was no obvious destination. Maybe they were heading toward friends. The red nose thing is, I think, associated with some charity but it looks like it’s just for fun here..
New event to shoot today.
Another “hey, mister, take our picture!” moment at Artica. It attracts all ages, with a range here from young to (I’m guessing) late middle. There are even some oldsters wandering around, like me and Hap, one of the founders.
Artica traditionally ends with the burning of the big wooden effigy, traditionally Our Lady of Artica but modified for this year’s new location. The organization takes fire safety very seriously - it has to. Permits are required from the city fire department and one of their big pumper trucks is always on standby. There has to be insurance. There is a group of well-trained volunteers in full protective gear to manage it all.
Artica traditionally ends with the burning of the big wooden effigy, traditionally Our Lady of Artica but modified for this year’s new location. The organization takes fire safety very seriously - it has to. Permits are required from the city fire department and one of their big pumper trucks is always on standby. There has to be insurance. There is a group of well-trained volunteers in full protective gear to manage it all.
What? I didn’t expect Papageno and Papagena to be attending Artica. May they be blessed with lots of little chicks - if that’s what they want. duck://player/87UE2GC5db0
Another loose association in an old brain: https://youtu.be/6c1BThu95d8?si=BryfJhcCdCxRjs96 . The lyrics are light weight but the official 1967 video is top-of-the line psychedelic pop. Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear. Looks like the tradition carries forward.
Suprise! Looks like the DJ at Artica got his finger stuck in the wrong circuit. I don’t understand how these set-ups work, but then I do better with violins and clarinets and that sort of thing.
Lots of children at Artica. The unseasonably warm weather (is that even worth mentioning any more?) encouraged them to tear all over the place. One father and daughter brought a large foam (I think) glider. The kid had a mighty hurl. The wings often fell off on landing but she would pop them back in and promptly relaunch.
An installation at Artica. Is the word trash here a noun or an adjective? Create art made of trash, or elevate trash into art? There is a long, complicated history about this question over the last century or more. Think of Marcel Duchamp and Louise Nevelson, but the list could go on and on.
Okay, I’m old by most standards. Everybody knows about old people’s puzzlement with young people. ('Twas ever thus.) Still, I look at these four and think about questions of class, culture, privilege and society. I was roughly their age in the geologic era known as the 1970s. I spent the first part of it as a cheaply dressed, if not ragged, graduate student. My three sibs did about the same. We were not wealthy but our parents insisted on education and we did what was expected, ending up with four bachelor’s degrees, a J.D., a Ph.D. and an M.B.A.
For the rest of that decade, thanks in no small part to the woman who kept us financially afloat early on, I wore cheap suits, then better suits, and had a couple of kids. We bought a station wagon. I forgot I had read Jack Kerouac but then read Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance. I would have loved to have sat down and talked to these young people about their lives, but I was out cruising for images.
A striking woman in attendance at Artica. Mrs. C and I tried to figure out what she was up to. She was there by herself, or at least we never saw her interact with anyone. She hung around near where we had pitched our lawn chairs for the burn, taking pictures and selfies, and obviously knew how to pose. The lens can capture moments but not always tell the story.
Thanks to my alert City Daily Photo colleague in Strasbourg, France, https://strasbourgdailyphoto.blogspot.com/, for identifying the local ska punk band, The HotRails, who performed something involving pitch and rhythm at Artica on Saturday. Their fans spread far and wide, if not down my street.
Artica always has a beat up piano for public use. Name that tune.
Another find at Tower Grove Pride Fest. Free books are great. Now if I could only get my granddaughter's face out of her iPad and onto a paper page. Free flag making is a little unusual but could be fun. Any what could be better than harmony with clean sox?
Hey, this weekend is Artica.
One of the stages at Pride Fest featured drag musical entertainment. One of my many faults when shooting events is that I get sucked up by the images and miss some ot the context. I didn't make a note of this performer's name or what she was singing, but my aural memory is that it was very heartfelt. The next performer did a lip-sync of Judy Garland's Over The Rainbow from the movie, just standing there straight, and it didn't work as well.
