photography

A Minimal Look

Robert Cochrane — Mon, 27 Apr 2026 13:12:28 +0000

A Minimal Look Robert Cochrane April 27, 2026 - 09:12

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Candy Darling

Every artist carries within them an idea of how they'd like to be best remembered, the impact they'd like to leave on a small or wider world. That world has a mind of its own, though, and gifts legacy in an arbitrary fashion, if it gifts any at all. Such has been the trajectory of the New York photographer Laura Rubin; her huge volume of work, from fashion shoots to derelict windows, is like snippets from a dream. Ghostly, elusive and somewhat unsettling, her tremendously atmospheric images haunt and stimulate, be they architectural in subject, street scenes in grainy intimacy, or the capturing a briefly glimpsed face. They have an abundance of beauty and grace, but with an edginess to their charm that makes them seem much older than they actually are. To those in the know, Laura Rubin is the photographer of the Warhol Circle, a title she never sought, never cultivated, nor much cares for, but like a wonky default setting, it is the regular garland that she is bestowed, a glittering momento mori, for all her subjects, cracked actors, drag queens, the dispossessed, are largely dead—her photographs, their afterlife gifted by the click of her probingly sympathetic lens.

New York-born Laura Rubin first became aware of Andy Warhol in 1964 through an article in Show magazine featuring monochromatic photographs of him. A curious and curiouser girl, she was suitably beguiled by his transient apparitional aspects, and his acolytes, little rich girl in a tailspin Edie Sedgwick and the downwardly mobile socialite Baby Jane Holzer. A wish to meet the silver-wigged wonder formulated. Before that, she had been acquainted with personages like the poet Gerard Malanga, whom she met at a folk dancing class in Greenwich Village in 1962, and Ronnie Cutrone, who was an artist in his own right. Both were Warhol's studio assistants. Certain things are likely, and there was an inevitability she encountered the pied piper of Pop Art and his colorful entourage; circles within circles overlap, merge, and eventually open outwards. In the larger small world that passed for artistic alternative, nobody was very far away in sixties Manhattan.

Rubin recalls, "I liked fashion magazines then and wanted to become a stylist for them. While taking an advertising course at the School of Visual Arts, I was required to study photography. I'd bought a copy of Video magazine, and there was a photo of Andy holding a Bolex camera. He was wearing a striped t-shirt, which was the style for some in those days. Soon after, I saw him in the flesh in Figaro's Cafe in the Village. There was a disco on the lower level on Sunday afternoons. After that, Andy began to appear everywhere. He was suddenly in demand. As the saying goes, 'Andy would turn up for the opening of an envelope.' I was hoping to be in one of his movies, but nothing happened." It seems likely that Laura was just a little too together to be included in and absorbed by Warhol's cavalcade.

Candy Arms Up

On account of her art and her craft, Laura Rubin has largely been an unwitting architect in her own reluctant byline. At a time when drag queens weren't considered appropriate subjects for inclusion in photographs, she immortalized them by rendering these moments elegant, beautiful, and real. The portraits she made have a legendary pull of old Hollywood publicity shoots, steeped in atmosphere, mystery, and rare beauty. It's no surprise that she admits to having a fascination for the intimate starkness of Victorian portrait photography. She made her down-at-heel in heels iconic, but never freaky. Over time, this aspect of innovation has been shunted to the margins by successive generations. Still, her take on Warhol icon and Lou Reed muse, Candy Darling, is transcendent, whilst her stark portraits of Holly Woodlawn are reminiscent of Joan Crawford in the 1940s, so vampishly stylish that she seems like a creature from another age. They are beyond drag. The term pioneer springs to mind. And as the sixties and seventies become historic eras entombed in amber, Rubin should be celebrated for being a true, if unintentional, mistress of innovation. In truth, she presented her alternative subjects as how they in part saw themselves, people of beauty who sought but generally didn't receive respect, and usually the wrong kind of recognition.

Laura Rubin didn't set out to be lionized as a photographer of Drag Queens. They populated the fringes and shadows of her Manhattan world, and, as a young, attractive woman with a camera, she was drawn to them like moths to a flame in hopes of immortality. It was their style, flashes and dashes of color and personality that drew her lens to them. She ran into Holly Woodlawn at Max's (a.k.a. Haraldo Santiago Franceschi Rodriguez Dankaki, 1946-2015), a crazy Puerto Rican with a penchant for dramatic poses. On seeing her photos, this resident of the back room at Max's Kansas City wished to be a subject. Rubin's rendering of her is both tragic, dynamic, and sublime. Holly had a way with words, or perhaps they had a way with her, as she proclaimed the end results of their session 'superfalous'—her mash-up of superlative and fabulous. At the time of their shooting, Holly was making the film Trash with Paul Morrissey, hence the ethos of vintage Hollywood so perfectly captured by Rubin.

Holly Broken Goddess

Candy Darling (1944-1974) was also a regular at Max's. Originally from Long Island, she was well on the way to establishing herself as a counterculture icon. Rubin's iconic shots were taken by accident since Candy's friend, Jeremiah Newton, was supposed to be Laura's original subject. Newton had simply asked if he could bring Candy along. He is to be thanked for posterity, as she hardly surprisingly edged into the frames. The photographs furnished Candy, who began life as James Lawrence Slattery, with a Kim Novak-esque tenderness and grace. Candy died in 1974 from cancer, the result of taking illegal hormone shots to assist her in her transformation into womanhood. Rubin's images have helped to galvanize and enhance her legacy as a great beauty, trans or otherwise. She inspired Lou Reed to compose "Candy Says" in his days with the Velvet Underground. He also immortalized her in the ever-popular "Walk On The Wild Side." She appeared in Klute with Jane Fonda and campaigned unsuccessfully for a part in the Mae West vehicle of Gore Vidal's outlandish Myra Beckenbridge. Only twenty-nine when she died, Candy was buried in her favorite dress, and the legendary Gloria Swanson arrived to pay her respects with a gracious wave.

Maria Montez (a.k.a. Rene Rivera, 1935-2016) was a further subject in drag, also Puerto Rican. Montez was a star of underground film, most notably Jack Smith's Flaming Creatures, before evolving to early "Superstar" status in a handful of Warhol movies. It was Rubin's idea to ask him to pose after seeing him perform in a John Vocarro off-off-Broadway play in 1969. Unlike Candy and Holly, Montez never became a regular part of Andy's Factory entourage. There is a real intimacy to Laura's shots of him transforming via the application of lavish make-up and clothes; the exposure within an exposure. Nowadays, Rubin reflects that, "I later did color work of the drag shows, not because I was bothered about drag—there was no agenda in that way—but everything was visual, and they were nice. entertaining people."

Mario Close Up

That aspect of Rubin's vast catalog of work bears only the briefest fingerprint of her true vision, its scope, and its artfulness. Her monochrome shots of her native New York are a strange harlequin confetti of fleeting shards. Images grasped in the blink of a shutter, the impulse to preserve the fleetingness of a thought. They use the transposition of billboards against a building or skyline in a way that makes the eye question what it first thought it had seen. There are strange amalgams of things caught in doorways and shop windows, and the profound starkness of light, the random grace of a passer-by captured and preserved, the sadness inherent but unknown etched across a stranger's face. Yet, as of yet, there is no proper solo publication of this talented artist's work available, nothing for the uninitiated hungry eye to study and peruse. A tremendous oversight, yet a treasure trove for any diligent photography publisher or gallery. There is a single video montage with an appropriately chosen jazz soundtrack that serves as a perfect online entry point. Still, it affords only cursory attention to a talent that has been both celebrated and obscured by its association with the Warhol mythology.

Rubin remains sanguine about the presumptions and secondhand limelight her Warhol threads bring.

Andrea and Geraldine Smith

"Although I found Andy okay as a person, I didn't find him that earth-shaking to dissect. My mistake was not to bring my camera when taken to the Union Square Factory, but my attraction was more '60s socialites, their merging with edgy art chic. My connection with Warhol has perplexing and amusing overtones. One editor came over to my apartment and remarked, 'Oh my God! I thought you would have dark velvet drapes and black-painted walls!' The surprise was my oak flooring and rattan furniture. A minimal look, but to get that from a smart New Yorker! Or people think I'm a junkie!"

Now in her seventies, she has not had all that kind of life. She lost many friends to the AIDS crisis, and like many artists before her, has no health insurance or savings. She does, however, have medical bills from a litany of age-related illnesses. Her friend, the performance artist Penny Arcade, has set up a GoFundMe page (see below) to assist her. Prints of her legendary images are available for purchase. It is a worthy act for a worthy and worthwhile woman whose talents, despite many exhibitions, shows, and mentions, have not secured her in the present or the future.

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Laura Rubin

PLEASE DONATE TODAY!

Dear friends, 2026 has begun, and I send you all my best wishes. As most of you know for 8 years you have helped me keep a roof over the head of elderly photographer Laura Rubin who lives a very marginal existence without Social Security, Income or savings abandoned by her family suffering from Lupus and other autoimune illnesses That we have been able to keep her fed and with a roof over her head, we a group of strangers, attests to the power of our humanity. Laura lives month to month in fear and anxiety, with much physical pain from bone loss. And without your donations, she would have died from sepsis or been evicted from her apartment. Her immune system is non-functioning due to Lupus. We need to get her January rent paid—she has made an excuse to her landlord, but she is in a critical situation right now. ANY AMOUNT HELPS! There is little reserve in her bank account. She will need an IV to kill the current infection; her white blood cells are 3 times higher than normal. For donations of $225 USA, $275 international (includes FEDX), we have photos of ANDY WARHOL SUPERSTARS: Mario Montez, Candy Darling, Holly Woodlawn, Francis Francine, Geraldine Smith, Andrea Feldman, and Penny Arcade.

These are museum-quality, printed on double-weight archival paper. For photo selection, click on Google Drive.

Choose photos here: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/0/folders/10VsRVaWA8Srl_KHjgLq8kriMHQUjyyE1.

Please share with your Facebook friends. Laura is deeply grateful for your support. https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-laura-survive

Thank you. Penny Arcade

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LAURA RUBIN PHOTOGRAPHER

WHAT AN AMAZING ARTICAL. SMALL CORRECTION: BABY JANE HOLZER LEFT ANDYS FACTORY WHEN IT BECOME A FREAK SHOW. THIS WAS SEVERAL YEARS BEFORE ANDY WAS SHOT. WHEN PEOPLE ASK ME "HOW DID YOU MEET SUPERSTARS"?? I REPOND: "THE QUESTION SHOULD BE "HOW DID THEY MEET MEE"???? MANY WERE FROM BROOKLYN, WE GREW UP TOGETHER.

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In Her Garden

Dom Lombardi — Thu, 23 Dec 2021 13:34:21 +0000

In Her Garden Dom Lombardi December 23, 2021 - 08:34

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Installation View

A Photographer In Her Garden: Featuring Sandi Daniel

Coast Contemporary Gallery, Rhode Island

The pandemic has had an incalculable effect on so many lives that it's hard to think life will ever be normal again. Culturally, creatives have had the trajectory of their careers, their way of thinking and processing drastically altered in ways that we may never be able to fully process or understand until years from now, when we can look back and analyze the related output. One such artist, Sandi Daniel, whose usual approach to her craft has been completely altered by a lack of movement or travel, leading her to investigate the only option left to explore -- her own immediate natural environment -- to look for that elusive magic that so often accompanies the act of far-flung exploration.

With the unfortunate addition of a broken printer, Daniel had to find a new path forward to creating prints. The cyanotype, that blue and white, blueprint-type image generated by contact printing with any variety of liquids including cyanide on photosensitive paper was her choice, bringing back to Daniel's art, a distinctive dreamy quality that has often defined her work.

Weeds (2020), double exposure wet cyanotype, 20 x 16 inches

Daniel's exhibition at the Coastal Contemporary Gallery is a beautiful, fluid, and fanciful interpretation of indigenous flora that typifies the ages old expression "stop and smell the roses," as she looks more deeply and thoughtfully into her very own garden of delights close at hand. Leaves and light form lyrical passages that can cascade down a wall as an unfolded, handmade artist's book or in multiple layers that produce on one sheet, where faux flashes of filtered sunlight come to mind, as best experienced in the wet cyanotype titled Weeds -– a look that was more than likely created using multiple layers of shifting exposures.

The Lake, I am thinking, is a bridge work between the previous transfer work and the cyanotypes, and one of the more haunting works that remind me of pinhole photography set into an artist's book bound with toned cyanotypes. The intimacy, and perhaps the voyeuristic feel of the elusive presentation, gives this object its distinctive visceral affect.

The Lake (2021), 5 x 5 inches closed & approximately 5 x 20 inches open

Also striking, are the aforementioned color photo transfers on Sekishu Paper where an even more delicate representation of wittingly withering flowers nearing the end of their beauty cycle actually become more attractive and engaging. It's not hard to understand when walking through this exhibition that Daniel is pairing the timelessness of nature with a deeper understanding of its predictability as a metaphor for our own time on earth. What we see in nature, if we take the time to experience the subtleties, is so much about being present and never taking for granted the strength there is in its wisdom.

Purple Beauty #2 (2021), 24 x 16 inches

A Photographer In Her Garden: Featuring Sandi Daniel will be on view at Coastal Contemporary Gallery in Newport, Rhode Island until the end of January, 2022. For more information visit CoastalContemporaryGallery.com.

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Rock 'n' Roll Ain't Noise Pollution!

Dusty Wright — Tue, 24 Jul 2012 15:16:56 +0000

Rock 'n' Roll Ain't Noise Pollution! Dusty Wright July 24, 2012 - 11:16

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I recently emceed a very cool smart culture event for Blackberry's Playbook (digital tablet) at their pop-up shop in Chelsea. Not only did I conduct interviews with artist Peter Max, blues pianist Henry Butler, and indie band The Kin, but with two outstanding rock photographers -- Mick Rock and John Scarpati.

Mick is the more well-known of the two, having captured iconographic rock images from the late '60s through the '70s of Syd Barrett, Lou Reed, Iggy Pop, David Bowie, Queen, Sex Pistols, Blondie, and more. But John has done amazing work as well, just during a different time period on the West Coast, more specifically L.A. bands during the '80s. Many folks have seen his photos of Fishbone, The Cramps (image left), Jane's Addiction, Poison, L.A. Guns, Social Distortion, Redd Kross, et al. He did album covers, press photos, magazine shots, and more. He was one of them -- so much so that sometimes it meant losing money on some of his setups for outstanding photos.

His purchase-worthy book Cramp, Slash & Burn: When Punk and Glam Were Twins is a fascinating exploration of the L.A. punk and glam scene in the '80s. To augment his lens work, John asked those folks he photographed to share stories about that time period, specific written snapshots remembered by them. Making it available as a 12" x 12" (same size as LPs) or 7" x 7" only adds to full-on experience. Knowing his meticulous attention to detail when setting up his subjects and shooting, his work never seems contrived or over-indulgent. The photos all seem rather easy and off-the-cuff.

Mick is just the opposite. This Cambridge-educated artist used his camera's eye as his paint brush, snapping shot after shot until he found the gem in the lot. Given his proximity to his legendary talent, you can tell that he was more of a fly-on-the-wall photographer, and that his willing victims felt totally at ease with him and camera. But don't be fooled by his casual manner, as his shots for album covers for David Bowie, Queen, Iggy Pop, and more have forged and continue to forge lasting impressions on music and art lovers everywhere. One only need peruse his latest book, Mick Rock Exposed: The Faces of Rock 'N' Roll, to bear witness.

The wonder of both photographers is that they continue to capture enduring images of many chart-topping and critically lauded contemporary music acts today. Mick has several new books ready, while John promises to work on his next effort.

Sometimes all we have left to remember our youthful culture are the images captured during those "heady" days. I would encourage you to explore what these two fine artists have made available. It may even help you to remember.

Jim Marshall - The Dusty Wright Show

Dusty Wright — Sat, 24 Apr 2010 20:40:39 +0000

Jim Marshall - The Dusty Wright Show Dusty Wright April 24, 2010 - 16:40

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Photographer Jim Marshall shares stills and stories from behind his lens and the 100% trust afforded him by many of rock music's biggest icons. And check out the new documentary -- Show Me The Picture -- on Jim Marshall. It will be released soon.

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All in White

C. Jefferson Thom — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 11:52:53 +0000

All in White C. Jefferson Thom July 28, 2009 - 07:52

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Photo Credit: Bob Gruen

Lennon: The New York Years - Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame, NYC Annex

If Rock is a religion, then John Lennon is at least one of its highest ranking prophets, if not the messiah himself. Aside from the holy scripture of his music, Lennon also left behind relics, some of which are currently on display at The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, NYC Annex. For the devote follower of the Late Beatle, it is these relics which will make this exhibit worthwhile, whereas the average Sunday-Beatle fan stands a better chance of learning something new about one of rock 'n' roll's greatest martyrs. The look of this one-room showing is idealistically white, matching John and Yoko's famous white room in the Dakota apartment they shared as well as complementing the overall saintly focus of the exhibit. Don't expect to see any of John's flaws displayed on these pristine walls. Any stains have been wiped clean. This seems to be a deliberate choice and, though it leaves some stones unturned, it works, allowing the focus to settle almost exclusively on Lennon's time in New York City and what he accomplished there. The museum provides free headphones, which are activated by sensors to play the intended songs and audio clips for each display as you approach them. This is a little more fancy than the usually museum audio gear and works well, as long as you don't mind the occasional intrusion of the wrong audio clip at the wrong display. The Talking Heads rock, but it took me a minute to figure why I was listening to "Girlfriend is Better" while looking at Lennon's green card. Lennon's green card is one of the must-see items in this showing that canâ€™t be viewed anywhere else, and John's cracking smile in the identification photo is the most human touch of the exhibition. It is accompanied by a comprehensive collection of letters related to the singer's threat of deportation from the U.S. government and leads one to consider the mental health of a country that would seek to banish such a treasure. The green card display, along with lyrics scrawled on hotel room stationary and a few other keepsakes, combine to make the strongest argument for paying the $30 it costs to enter this exhibit. With some diligent Internet searching, almost all the other video and audio material could be found for free, though experiencing it all together in one reverent setting has its own value.

Photo courtesy of Bob Gruen

Pinup Fantasies

Dusty Wright — Tue, 16 Dec 2008 00:55:16 +0000

Pinup Fantasies Dusty Wright December 15, 2008 - 19:55

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Hollywood Pinups by Timothy White (Collins Design)

Some of my most profound pubescent mam... er, memories were the sensual and voluptuous pulp illustrations by Alberto Vargas. His luscious renderings were fuel for any red-blooded male. New York photographer Timothy White created this photo book as a continued exploration of his 1994 commissioned homage for the 50th Anniversary of the Esquire Magazine's Varga Girl pinup.

Housed in a delicious red slipcase with a glossy black flap jacket, this picture book is sumptuously executed. White traveled near and far to capture his "pinups" at great expense. Moreover, 100% of the proceeds from the sales of the book will be donated to Oxfam America.

The beautifully ageless Susan Sarandon, friend of Mr. White and once photographed by him for a Time magazine cover, wrote one of the two forwards for the book. Current Playboy editor Christopher Napolitano wrote the other. And he, like myself, is a "freaking" fan of Tea Leoni (image above left). (Is it just me or doesn't Ms. Leoni seem to be sporting a very fetching Joey Heatherton vibe?)

His former boss Hef featured many a luscious illustration of these scantily clad, desirable women. Mr. White has become one of our greatest celebrity photographers, in some ways replacing the late great Herb Ritts. His 20+ years of work is suffused with more than a nod to the macho era of male fantasies. His last coffee table book paid loving homage to deceased friend and East Coast King of Chopped Bikes Indian Larry.

His work in such magazines as Rolling Stone, aforementioned Esquire, and Vanity Fair often captures the more playful side of famous celebrities. From macho men Paul Newman on a super mini bike to Harrison Ford on a Pee Wee Herman-style bicycle, these are men that know and trust their images with Mr. White's lenswork.

But I digress... Evocative photos of famous women are nothing new. From Bridget Bardot to Marilyn Monroe to Madonna, we have grown accustomed to the power of the female form. In his original Esquire homage, to achieve the impression of an illustration Mr. White used airbrushing, pieces of fabric and Photoshop to recreate the desired effect.

Of course, working with the natural beauty of Felicity Huffman, Susan Sarandon, Kate Hudson, Angie Harmon, Vanessa Williams, Molly Simms, and 17 other sirens required scant manipulation, mostly their famous female forms framed against a white or black backdrop and accented by spiked heels by Christian Louboutin, a drape of cloth (scarf, corset, satin skirt, hats, even a 15-carat diamond G-string), and diamonds.

Pinup fantasies are a rite of passage. From the soldier in the field to worker in the shop, they are a constant reminder that the world swerves on a woman's hip. Thank you, Timothy for affording us more reminders.

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Seduction By Camera

MargaretRoleke — Tue, 21 Oct 2008 12:20:05 +0000

Seduction By Camera MargaretRoleke October 21, 2008 - 08:20

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Bill Henson: Tame!

Robert Miller Gallery, NYC

After Australian photographer Bill Henson's recent show in his homeland in which images of naked adolescents were seized from the wall and the show was shut down, I was expecting a controversial reception here in New York. With our economy in shatters, no one put up a fuss. But why should they? This show is a beautiful, formal exhibit of powerful and pleasing images. There is nothing shocking or offensive. Instead it is a show of a mature artist presenting well-crafted and sensuous photographs.

Henson's twenty-three large color photographs (50' x 70') are a mix of landscapes, architecture, and figures with a few compelling still lifes thrown in. The presentation is quite elegant and fills the expansive gallery nicely. All of the images are all shown mixed together, not separated out. This placement accentuates the formal qualities of the works and creates a visual dialogue amongst the images. Subject matter seems less important than formal characteristics.

The show is really about light and lighting. The subjects are either dark and dusky landscapes suggesting the mystery of the twilight hours or dramatic figures and still lifes that employ chiaroscuro. Although the work is reminiscent of master 16th century painters, the images also resemble stills from a film noir. In many of the portraits, the eyes are closed or looking away, they are rarely confronting the viewer. What I was most struck by in the figures was the rich variations in skin tones, and the intensity of seeing the blood vessels, kind of like high definition TV with dramatic lighting. This show is definitely worth a look.

The Naked Truth

Dusty Wright — Sun, 02 Dec 2007 03:04:03 +0000

The Naked Truth Dusty Wright December 1, 2007 - 22:04

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Touch: Naked Girls Home Alone

by Peter Gorman (Goliath)

In his latest book, Peter Gorman's camera is a voyeur figuratively hidden inside a mirror. He has an extraordinary eye for capturing the day-to-day life of real New York women who aren't huffed and puffed and all airbrushed up. Their surroundings are real, not phony sets with lighting and make-up and an attending entourage of distracting assistants. As you can guess, this is not your Girl Next Door coffee table anthology. These are gritty, sassy, attitude-forward women expressing themselves -- sometimes seductively -- in front of mirrors, in bathrooms, in bathtubs, on beds, basically in their private sanctuaries behind the curtains of their New York City apartments. Sporting tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, blemishes, skin discolorations, etc., these are uncompromising portraits that capture a moment in time that are far richer than ordinary nude photographs. Each expressive image exposes the miniature of the women and their surroundings. Who are they and what do they do? What the observer leaves with is the visceral pulse of young women in touch with their bodies and expressing themselves with straightforward honesty. If you've often wondered what women do by themselves in the privacy of their own domiciles, then look no further. These brave women have allowed Mr. Gorman to capture their very private and very vulnerable moments.

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