"Where is this going?..." [1 of 2 in the Redbull House of Art series]

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I started this project way back when because I wanted to share with the rest of the world what I loved about my hometown and its people. That said, I never intended it to be a platform for blind boosterism. If I encounter something that displeases me in my everyday life as a Detroiter – in my everyday life as an sentient being – that displeasure will more likely than not seep into a TPOD post.

That said, the past couple of posts have been admittedly heavy.  In "Why Midtown is Better than Royal Oak" an incident at a suburban Starbucks led to a discussion of how social equity is affected for better or worse by the demographics of a place.

In "Dezey and the World of Tomorrow" we discussed how disproportionate religiosity in the black community leads to disproportionately high homophobia in the black community.

Fun times.

...Because I don't want to seem pervy [2 of 2 in the Redbull House of Art series]

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As I wandered the Redbull House of Art grand opening searching for pretty girls to take pictures of, the words of the attractive, remarkably similar looking, slightly older woman mentioned in the first part of this series echoed in my soul:

"Where IS this going, Noah?"

If I was to theoretically fill The People of Detroit solely with pictures of attractive women sure it would be awesome, but what would that mean the project was? Would I have to re-write the Mission Statement? Change the name to "The Pretty Girls of Detroit"? How pervy would that be?

I snapped to consciousness and realized I was standing in the middle of the crowded exhibition hall, Camera in hand. Shivering. Lightly-misted in a clammy, cold-sweat of shame. 


I had to rectify my errant ways.

Dezey and the World of Tomorrow

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Disparity

This is "Dezey." He's not fond of giving people with cameras and notepads his first and last name. I think I understand why. More on that later.


I had the pleasure of meeting Dezey at the The Ruth Ellis Center in Highland Park(1). The Center sits inside a nondescript concrete box on a nondescript concrete block within throwing distance of a nondescript former factory where Henry Ford built a machine that changed the world.

Why Midtown is Better Than Royal Oak: A Tale of Two Starbucks

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*Encounters at two Starbucks - one in Detroit, one in Royal Oak -  provoked an epiphany about gathering places, demographics and how the interplay between these factors influence how people behave toward each other. 

But before we get into that, if you're on a Mac,  for the love of god, please change your monitor's color space to sRBG. Trust me. Its the right thing to do.  If you're not sure how to do it, go here

Part One: A Distinguished Gentleman

Researchers at MIT recently proved that not even time can escape the gravitational pull of a Xbox 360. So, when I need to pull free from the productivity-killing siren song of Grand Theft Auto IV, I bike to a nearby Starbucks in Midtown Detroit.

What I like most about this Starbucks is the way it serves as a nexus for people from all walks of life: med school students; other photographers meeting with perspective clients; city council members; and the occasional disheveled, quaintly aromatic stranded traveler who just needs 37 cents to ride the Night Train home.

Mystery Solved

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In the Mysteries and Enigmas post, I introduced you to a young woman I happened across in John K King Used and Rare Books. The place is an amazing repository for books - and for repressed childhood emotional trauma (Confused? Read the original post).

A Wintry Encounter

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I was unlocking my baby the other day, when I was approached by a man named "Les." "Les" properly identified the make of my bike. He intimated that his son was also an avid biker.

He asked about my profession.  I told him that I take pictures and write about people for a living.

He then intimated that he also was a photographer. "Les" spent several years as the staff photographer for a local news station. "Les" engaged me in a discussion about our photographic philosophies. Surprisingly, they meshed rather well.

This, friends, is what we in the industry (I am a registered ninja) call an "affinity con."  That's when a clandestine inquisitor feigns common interests. Their goal is to siphon as much information out of you as they can.

No need for your polar spy tactics, "Les." I think we both know what you really wanted to ask:

I've been naughty.

But then, you already knew that, didn't you?

Happy Holidays to you and yours, dear reader. Hope to see you again in the new year.  

- Noah 

A Cup of Stoicism

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I'm starting a People of Detroit mini-series dedicated to Detroiters in coffeeshops. I've read enough artist statements in museums and spoken with enough people who attended art school to know I should explain the project  like this:

"Coffeeshop Cohorts examines coffeeshops, the alluvial fluid served therein, and the caffeinated pilgrams arrayed to consume it  - together yet alone in the frigidity of the modern American metropolis."

:|

Scientific Sara(h)

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[Before we get started, I have a bit of breaking news. I've created a petition that asks General Motors to exhibit The People of Detroit in the GM Renaissance Building in downtown Detroit during the 2012 North American International Auto Show. I want to collect 10,000 signatures before December 15th. The idea is to convince GM that this exhibition - and the international attention it would garner - is a good idea for Detroit and for GM itself. If you agree[which you do], go here.]

I'm a resident with the Creative Ventures business accelerator program. Fellow Ventures resident business Detroit Lives!  is in the process of filming promotional videos for the accelerator program. I went out with crew the other day so they could record me doing my TPOD thing.

Mysteries and Enigmas

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I was around 12-years-old when my father took time off from his day job as a traveling absentee father, and arranged to finally meet the most handsome and best-smelling of his nine abandoned children.

The meeting place was my childhood home on a bright, sunny, summer afternoon. I remember feeling a roiling storm of contradictory emotions: hurt and anticipation, anger and curiosity. More than anything else, I looked forward to unloading 12 years of playing-catch-with-a-brickwall animus on its deserving progenitor.

Living in Detroit with Detroit Lives!

View Large or, if you dare, Stupid Large

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Chief among my many personal failings is an inability to return phone, text, and email messages within a time framed deemed "socially acceptible." Its not necessarily because I don't want to communicate with the people who are trying to communicate with me. Its just that I'm often in private negotiation with my thoughts. My thoughts are are jealous succubi. They demand my exclusive attention for indefinite stretches of time. Even still, I do my best to escape their surly gravity and return an orphaned email every now and again.

I received one such email from the gentleman pictured above, Philip Lauri.  He intimated that he enjoyed what I was doing with The People of Detroit, wanted to feature it on the website for his social branding organization Detroit Lives!, and he suggested we meet to discuss doing something collaboratively.