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Fuck You, Bruce Gilden!

April 23, 2016

Fuck You, Bruce Gilden!


One can never forget the horrendous odor of the 110 freeway.  I'€™m not particularly talking about the smell of petroleum or the millions of toxins in the air but rather the pretentious and empty commuters that line this familiar jugular path into the heart of the city.  Today wasn'€™t like most days in my life, nor is it like any day before nor after today, today was simply my day to say, “Fuck you, Bruce Gilden!€ But to even acknowledge such a notion, one must understand the underlying narrative, especially the characters involved.  The confused professional who denies his affiliation to the likes of Ken & Barbie in hope to find euphoria on a higher plateau, or the blonde German who triumphs her "ego"€ in a melancholic ballad that is not only inspiring but igniting flames all in the same. ("Toilet Shoes")  The meager youth, a flirtatious loner, a flamboyant risque host, the whispering samurai, a historical scholar, and a gentle artist in the rear, all, were tested and all would survive.  The journey wouldn'€™t be the same without yet a final and, ironically, my most endearing character, the perverse chef himself.  It wasn't only in each and every one of their struggles, to find that cumbersome definition of approval but it was ALL of our collective defiance that have made us a believer in not the Bruce Gilden form of art per se, but it is in our gratitude and love for Bruce Gilden, the man.


(MAGNUM Photos, 2016 Photo Independent Art Festival @ Raleigh Studios, Hollywood, CA)




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