Originally posted on my blog Siliconundrum.

The question is … but is it art! It’s something I use to ask/say to my other “arty” friends back in Jr High back in the glorious(?) 70’s(?) … OMG! And so the question is raised today. I’m not trying to rekindle the age old battle about clay Art vs Craft. No! I’m saying it more tongue in cheek this time around.

I have to give a big shout out to Diana Fayt for turning me onto a very cool app called Hipstamatic for iPhone. She published a photo yesterday which I knew came from her iPhone, so I tweeted her asking what app. I knew there were billions an billions of apps it could have been. She was kind enough to tweet me back a reply. So of course I fire up iTunes and spent a whopping $1.99 and purchased a copy for myself. All I can say is WOW! It’s like my 1st gen iPhone dropped orange sunshine!

After meeting a downtown client this morning, (my day job is being a Mac computer consultant) I decided to take my new toy.app and re-explore the Pike Place Market. It’s been a long time since I had been or was inclined to take photos. One of the pitfalls of living in Seattle for so long is becoming apathetic to the innate beauty of the market. Tourists or not!

In 1980 I was attending school at  CW Post Center of Long Island University. I was also sharing an apartment in Oyster Bay Long Island with 3 women: Cande Roth, Ellyn Solis, and Dorothy (Orant) Morrison. The night I moved into this insane asylum I ended three years of being a non-smoker. I purchased that pack of Newports … and torched up the first smoke, and didn’t quit again until the early 90’s.

In my years at Post I was a communications major and later film major. I also did radio shows on the college station WCWP 88.1 on the FM dial. I also was a photographer for an NYC club magazine called Non-LP B-Side. Those were some exciting times. Musicly there was the whole UK & US punk explosion that brought so much amazing and exciting music. I use to spend a lot of my extra cash either at Bleaker Bob’s in NYC or a few of the independent music stores on Long Island that specialized in British imports. Buying the latest import singles & LPs my radio shows were something to hear. I loved bands like The Clash, The Jam, The Sex Pistols, XTC, Elvis Costello, Ian Dury And The Blockheads, Fashion, Richard Hell And The Voidoids, Tom Verlaine with or without  Television, Graham Parker, The Undertones, Ultravox, The Ramones, Talking Heads, all the assorted Stiff and Two-Tone bands and so much more. And what money I didn’t spend there I was spending on photographing some of these bands and paying to have the film processed at professional color labs, in NYC or on “Lonkisland”.

Dorothy was also an avid musicologist and fan girl of so many of those bands. That was one of our many connections. She also turned me onto a lot of stuff that she loved too. We influenced each other. Hell … when I met this girl she was “sittin’ on the hood of a Dodge” in the parking lot at the Spectrum in Philadelphia. A friend of mine and I were waiting to buy Springsteen tickets. We drove in from southern NJ the night before and slept in  my car. Early the next morning, before “the line formed”, I was wandering around the parking lot and here was this beautiful blond wild child, sitting on the hood of that car (but no soft summer rain) and asking me … “hey you like Costello too?” I was wearing an Elvis Costello t-shirt at the time. And that was that. We talked and that started the long slow process of friendship … and years later … a bit more.

Dorothy and I were in L. O. V. E. with the Clash. There was always something about their music, attitude and politics that resonated with us, and the world. They were so much less nihilistic than the Pistols. Plus they had huge hearts. You could see it in the passion they showed onstage and off.

“In the beginning the gods created the Pony (or the Poney to some) … they saw it was good. Maker and breaker of many a hopeful lot. Time passed and many a legend was born and sent out into the world to make good. Some did. Some didn’t. But time is a funny thing …. ha! Just when you expect just another R&B clone, fate deals you a joker. Enter … “The Human Element.” Why the Pony? And why such a place for their very first gig? These and many other questions can only be answered … in time!”

First entry in The Human Element scrapbook … Joe Streno 1986

Post Updated: 06/07/2009 added photo of The Human Element T-shirts.

It’s funny … I was searching my negative files for photos of my band, The Human Element. I’m working on a huge post about T.H.E. But while I was searching for group promo photos that my friend and artist Dorian LaPadura took, I stumbled upon black & white promo photos I took of the Smoots band at the old Wall Township, NJ house. They even include new trombone player Tommy Meares.

To my amazement, I also found the few photos I took of the Smootsters, well at least Gary, Judy, Kenny (see Kenny I DID take photos of the drummer!) and the engineer/producer, who’s name escapes me right now, at the NYC recording studio where they recorded these three songs. I also don’t remember the studio name either. I’m sure someone out there will remeber those details. And I’m almost positive there might be more studio photos … but then again that could be my mind playing tricks again.

I’m feeling horribly sad. Pain welling up. Like having the crusty brown crackling scab of a deep wound ripped from my flesh. Feeling the pain and discomfort, but realizing, I was only feeling a pea under the mattress of time, poking me in my minds eye. Hey you! Wake up! Wake the fuck up! Joe is gone. Joe? Joe who? Joe Streno? No! Joe Strummer.

I’m back stage at Bonds, NYC. It’s 1981. I’m seeing it though the eyes of another. Out of body? Am I still dreaming? I am the camera. I’m on one side of the curtain divider, tagged by others before me. He’s on the other side. They … are on the other side. Dorothy is next to me. “I’ll pull it back …” she said “… be ready.” Was I? Could I? Should I? Suddenly the curtain is drawn. He turns, looking into my eyes, dead on. There is a blinding flash. He doesn’t blink. He knows what is needed. He knows what is required. Focused like a laser. Peering into the elements of time, space and visual acuity. His essence has been received. His likeness captured. In a microsecond, the curtain returns to its place. Both of them. Light levels return to normal. Did that really happen?

This is a public service announcement.
With guitar …
You have the right to free
Speech as long as you’re not
Dumb enough to actually try it …

Strummer/Jones

In 1982 while most of the first-gen punk bands withered on the vine and died, The Clash were starting a world tour behind their fifth album “Combat Rock”. As a long time Clash fan … it’s not one of my faves. But it’s certainly not their worst. It did yield some hits with “Rock The Casbah” and “Should I Stay Or Should I Go?” Like it’s predecessor “Sandinist” it was another verba-sonic experiment in the Clash recording laboratories. Both albums at least yielded a few nuggets. And now they were ready to play it all live.

Long ago and far far away there was a punk “power-pop” band called Generation-X. From the ashes of that British band came the solo career of Billy Idol. When he saw it was time to ready, steady, go go go … Billy did. To some, Billy Idol was just a poser in a leather frock. With his Elvis-Presley-like sneer, pumping rhythms and hand gestures to match he took America by storm with his leather gear and debut EP “Don’t Stop”. With a remake of the Tommy James and the Shondells‘ “Mony Mony” and another monster hit in “Dancing With Myself”, Billy was able to catapult himself from the smell of the rotting post-punk-band graveyard. His brand of straight up rock-power-pop-with-an-attitude won over the hearts and ears of many fans.

As I promised in my previous post … more photos of the A’s. This gig was at the Fast Lane in Asbury Park, NJ. Ms Dorothy was not in attendance … hence the dressing room over the shoulder shot of Richard creating the set list for that night. There are a few people in the dressing room that I don’t remeber. Richard … Rocco … a little help please? I know Donnie Demarco … but there are others that escape me.

I always liked shooting in the Fast Lane. I saw many local and national bands here. The stage was one step up from ground level and I could get some great close shots without a telephoto. Lighting usually sucked which forced me to use a flash … but a man has to do what a man has to do.

In my many incarnations as photographer, documenter, and fan boy, I attended quite a few shows of the local Philidelphia band … The A’s. Don’t know if I would have ever discovered them on my own, but I can thank friend and X-gFriend Dorothy for that introduction.

The toughest part about all this is trying to recollect times, places, and faces from back then. I certainly remeber Richard Bush (vocals), his songwriting partner Rocco Notte (keyboards), Rick DiFonzo (guitar), Terry Bortman (bass) and Mike Snyder (drums) … but the dates of some of these gigs are a little fuzzy. I know the year … I documented that on my negative sleeves along with the venue. Other than that … if you remember anything about the gigs … leave it in the comments.

Okay. Since I started writing about Gary and company I’ve been getting mondo hits on my blog. One of those hits was from Kenny Douyotas (Smoots band drummer) himself. He left a comment.

Wow, I can’t believe I found this, why no pictures of me? The drummer never gets any respect…..

Oh Kenny … we all respect you. 

I eMailed him back and he sent me his phone number. So we chatted and played catch-up. One of the things he told me was he had a mix-down of the three songs that Smoots recorded in the studio. Plus he had some other tunes from a sound check, taped direct from the soundboard. The studio tunes he had already digitized, and the other tape he still had to digitize.

Moving right along. In keeping with our itinerary. If this is Monday. This must be Victoria, BC, Canada.

We left this morning early. Sadly, no breakfast at the New Leaf Cafe. Sorry Tina … no smoked Salmon “Benny.” It was way to early. Chris (the trip-master and organizer extraordinaire ) made a ferry reservation. Though honestly, for these “out of season tourists,” we didn’t need any stinkin’ reservations. We were only the third car in our lane, waiting to get to Victoria. In the meantime coffee and breakfast were in order. Again, many places were closed. Thankfully a little market selling warm egg, sausage and cheese sandwiches was open. Oh and lest we forget … good STRONG coffee! Mmm mmm mmm! With sandwiches and coffee in hand, we found a picnic table to eat and prepare ourselves for what was to come.

After a lengthy ferry ride, and disembarking, it was off to Butchart (boo-shart) gardens. In the thirteen years I’ve lived in Seattle, I’d never been to Orcas Island, nor to Victoria. So it goes without saying I’d never stepped foot in Butchart. Or “Butch Art” as Chris was calling it. But can there really be any butch art in a garden? Hence my urinal photo. That’s Butch Art baby!

It was gray. It was overcast. But that didn’t stop us. The four of us loaded into my Scion tC and headed to Orcas Island via a ferry from Anacortes. Chris’ sister Tina and her husband Kevin and I got up and were out the door at 6:00 AM. I was the taskmaster. We had a ferry to catch and we weren’t going to miss it.

Tina and Kevin came to visit us for the week. They flew in from South Carolina on Saturday morning and were staying with us until the following Saturday. Our grand plan was to drive and ferry to Orcas, spend the night at the Outlook Inn an then head on to Victoria, BC for two days and head home to Seattle on Wednesday.