Bauhaus – Mitchell's thoughts, photos, etc.

100 Years or Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

Does Music Make a Difference When Shooting and Editing Photos?

By Mitchell Slepian

Hello, readers. As my regulars are aware, ninety-nine percent of the time, the images in my stories have been shot and edited with my Nikon camera. As Paul Simon sings, I like to take photographs. My Kodachrome sits on a table next to an old Nikon that was a workhorse and is now out of commission.

Sheepshead Bay by Emmons Avenue – Edited to Sir Elton

When shooting and editing, I always have songs in my head. One of my all-time favorite songs is “100 Years,” the opening track on The Cure’s “Pornography” album. It might be the darkest, most goth album of all time. I listen to it nonstop. Here’s a taste of Robert Smith’s (The Cure’s founder, lead singer, and possibly the best songwriter ever) lyrics. “It doesn’t matter if we all die. Ambition in the back of a black car.” I listen to lots of other great artists. Some are happier than The Cure. Of course, some are just as dark. Here’s a partial mix: Bauhaus, David Bowie, Billy Joel, Depeche Mode, Erasure, Sir Elton John, Joy Division, John Lennon (probably the best musician of all time), Led Zeppelin, Bob Marley, The Psychedelic Furs, The Smiths, Siouxsie and the Banshees, U2 and The Who. And the list goes on.

It’s not unusual for me to have some of these lyrics floating through my brain when I’m shooting. “Confusion in her eyes that says it all. She’s lost control. And she’s clinging to the nearest passerby.” – “She’s out of Control,” Joy Division “Girl of sixteen, whole life ahead of her. Slashed her wrists, bored with life. Didn’t succeed, thank the Lord.” – “Blasphemous Rumors” – Depeche Mode “Back to the howling old owls. Hunting the horny back toad” – “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” – Sir Elton and “Before you cross the street. Take my hand. Life is what happens to you. While you’re busy making other plans” – “Beautiful Boy” – John Lennon. He always nailed it. They all do.

One can be sure the songs in my head while I am shooting affect how they are taken. I might adjust the ISO and F-stop based on how I am feeling. In case you were wondering, I do not listen to music on my iPhone. I hate headphones. I used to wear my Walkman’s headphones slightly above or below my ears. Sometimes I still do that with headphones when I am Zooming or watching things on YouTube. Songs always go through my head. It gets me through the days. Or as Robert Smith says, “In Between Days.” That’s on the “Head on the Door” album.

Bees Fetching Honey – Edited to the Cure

The other day, I was editing some images from Emmons Avenue, Sheepshead Bay and the New York Botanical Garden while listening to Sir Elton. Then I switched to a mix of The Cure, Echo and the Bunnymen, Erasure, and Psychedelic Furs, Siouxie and the Banshees. Erasure brings back memories of camp. The Cure, Erasure, and the Furs bring back old memories of dating and driving around in my old Caddy with the girls I liked. We usually listened to those bands. My first date was to see The Cure with Love & Rockets and the Pixies as the openers. We were too young to buy beer. We shared M&M’s. I still think about all of this when certain songs play.

Look at the images and see if you can tell the difference. This was written and edited to Led Zep’s “How the West Was Won.” With final touches while listening The latest from The Cure: “Songs of a Lost World.”

Fire

Marc and Alana went to celebrate Lag B’Omer. Marc built the fire. He was not pleased. He was a master fire builder. Too many super-religious folks got in his way. He was anxious and annoyed. But finally, some of the cute kids made him smile. Of course, Alana was there looking hot in her all-black clothes and makeup. The two of them do not like rabbis. Toss in HR and real estate people. Anyway, the rabbi had to play religious music. Alana had her iPhone cranking Joy Division and Bauhaus. The fire lasted. But not long enough. But too many people thought you just keep feeding and pouring olive oil on it. It was a comedy of errors. The food usually was delicious. Sadly, the temple screwed that up, too. It was so dry.

Marc lit the fire hung with his friends, and sat hand in hand with Alana. Many people were upset with them. They are not married. They will never wed. Marc, at one point, wanted to get Alana a ring. He knew that would end their relationship. He would need many sessions with the Woodsman if that happened. We know the Woodsman rarely comes out. The rabbi was selling candles and trying. Marc and Alana were in the back of the yard, hiding from everyone and acting like teens in love. Their lips were locked, and their hands were all over each other. You could hear the Cure and New Order cranking from Alana’s phone.

The two didn’t anticipate any fighting that night. They were ready. They always are. Anat was having a nicer Lag B’Omer on the Upper East Side. Ben and Gillil helped build the fire. Dan ran the grill. All was quiet. How long would it last?

Anat Gives Birth

Anat’s water broke. Dan was by her side. They were both nervous. Anat knew she could handle this. She did not understand how her powers would interact with the birthing process. She had no clue if it would be harder or easier. She went to the hospital. Funny, she remembers how she attacked Jen when she was giving birth to Ben. Anat was so upset that the girl who teased her in camp was married and having a kid.

Anat texted Marc and Alana to tell them what was going on. The two rushed to the hospital. She texted Jen, who raced to pick up and babysit Jerry.

With Dan by her side, Anat gave birth to a girl. Anat held her and started to cry. Dan was happier than ever. They would do the naming soon, and Anat sent images to all her friends. She asked them not to post on social media. She hated it. She held the little kid with all of her heart. She looked into the baby’s eyes. She spoke to her. She was so happy. But she had to figure out what powers this infant possessed. She knows what it’s like with Jerry and his abilities. She wondered if her new child would be more powerful. The doctor gave the baby a clean bill of health and said they could go home in a little while. Anat had a black baby basket and outfit ready. Dan hoped he could paint his daughter’s room pink and was worried the first music she’d hear would be the Cure or Bauhaus. Ultimately, he didn’t care. Dan was so happy to have a baby with Anat and knew what a great mother she already was. He had to work on the party after the naming.

The family left the hospital and headed home to show Jerry his sisters. Jay was lingering around outside and started throwing glass. Dan pulled his gun out and wanted to apprehend him. Suddenly, he saw his newborn shake in her basket. She was spinning; out of the basket came potato pancakes and jelly. The kid was shooting them out of her eyes. Jay was nailed in the head and fell to the ground. The baby raised her tiny arm and opened her hands. Lentils and rice flew out of her little hands. Jay ran. Dan knew he had his hands full.

Wedding plans continue

Anat woke up with a splitting headache. She knew she was fine. It was just jitters about her wedding. She and Dan set a date. But she had so much work to do. As smart as she is, She’s completely clueless about wedding planning. They knew they’d honeymoon in Israel. That was about all she was able to plan.

She was still ruminating over talking to her parents. She wanted them to see how she cleaned up. Ann suggested she give it more thought. She knew what Anat had been like. She remembered their first meeting when the police brought Jerry to the children’s center.

Anat sat at her desk and cranked Bauhaus. She wasn’t sure what her wedding song would be. She thought it’d be cute to dance with Jerry. The kid was just getting into Joy Division. So, she’d pick one of their tunes. The only argument she had with Dan was over the dress. He was hoping for her to be all dressed in white. She wanted all black with black make-up and nail polish. She won. But decided to just excite him she may wear white panties.

She stepped away from her desk and went outside. Jay was standing right in front of her building. He was ranting about getting Jerry back. He didn’t see her. She snuck up behind him and unloaded raisins and apricots. They smacked right into his neck. He turned around and tried to launch glass at her beautiful blue eyes. She ducked and refired. She plugged the dried fruit up his nose. He opened his mouth to breathe.

She filled his mouth with raisins. He started to choke. She kicked him in the knees. He went down. She texted Dan that he was at her building and acting crazy. She kicked him a few more times. She heard sirens.

A squad pulled up and they saw him on the ground. The officers assumed he was stoned. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had dried fruit all over him. They cuffed him and shoved him into the car. Anat was pleased. But knew he’d escape.

Pomegranate — Book 9

Alana hasn’t slept well in days. But she was up early and off to work. She was heading to her Soho office. She got off the R-train and bought a bagel from a street vendor.

As always, her mind was occupied with Marc. Boy did she have obsessive-compulsive disorder. Tack on her general anxiety disorder and she could really be a mess. A hot mess. Despite her goth looks and beliefs, she did get along with most people. She just needed to be in control.

She entered her building and went to the elevator. Her iPhone started playing “Cut You Up.” She started to shake. That was Marc’s text tone. Was this real? She was spooked. Her hand shook as she opened the text. What her dream was writing? She had no clue why after so many years she was still head over heels for him. They briefly dated. But had so much in common. Especially their love of Joy Division, Bauhaus and the Cure.

“Hey, Alana.”

Why didn’t he write more? But he wrote. She was pleased. Yet distressed. Her knees started to shake. She bit into her bagel.

Her boss was his usual cheery self. He wasn’t a bad guy. They got along. But like all, she got on his nerves. And now she had that text to think about. And think about it she did. That’s all she thought of. What does he want? She wasn’t ready to text him back and fall into a trap. They’ve been in each other’s trap since the third grade.

The lunchtime hour struck. She went outside to the corner deli. She was still thinking about what she’d say in her reply to Marc. Someone ran into her as the crossed the street. She moved away and figured it was just a tourist who didn’t know how to walk in NYC. She kept walking to the store. But the woman who smacked her went after her again. She tried to stay calm. But was so tense. She looked at the woman right in the eye.

The woman went into her coat pocket and looked like she was pulling out a gun. Alana didn’t want to get shot. She was feeling a connection to Marc. Alana’s arm bulged. As her hand opened the crazy lady whipped out a razor blade and tried to slash Alana’s throat. Alana ducked and when she got up she lunged a bushel of apples at the woman. They hit her square in the jaw and her head. She hit the concrete hard. Alana didn’t stop. She was enraged. She usually just beat her foe and left. The woman was screaming so loud. Naturally, people were shooting shots with their mobiles. Finally, Alana walked off.

People tried to follow her. But as a typical New Yorker, she was in all black and blended in well with the foot traffic. She whipped out her phone and texted, “Marc, it’s me. Meet for a beer at PJ Clarke’s on 55^th and Third?” She thought for a moment or two and hit send.