Showing posts with label Juliana's Secret Stash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Juliana's Secret Stash. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Why Did They Take My Polaroid Camera Away?



"Pee Wee", Tampa, Florida, 2001. Juliana Beasley




Yes, I know many of you feel the same way.

Just today, I was in a fit of Polaroid inspiration when I looked at Doug Rikard's, (the genius blogger and photographer behind the blog, American Suburb X )  "These Americans".  I was deeply engaged in the Polaroid images of a blonde woman in lingerie, posing for the camera in classic pin-up fashion. The photographs are under the subtitle, "Amateur 1990's".

What I find fascinating about these and other Polaroid images of this genre is simply more than my own natural voyeurism to take a peek at a half-dressed woman, but more specifically, the curious story between subject and photographer. I am left with a feeling of wanting to know about the nature of their relationship. Was the photographer her lover, were these photographs taken to obtain work in the sex industry? These amateur photographs make me consider more the intentions of the person behind the camera than the person in front. And yes, the relationship between the two. I want to know story behind the photo shoot.





"Gypsy Rose", Honolulu, Hawaii, 1997. Juliana Beasley




I am intrigued with the "no pretense reality" of the Polaroids because the lighting is so poor (in particular, flash under florescent lighting) that very few flaws can be hidden, not to mention the poor color correction intrinsic to the film. The scene all looks so cheap, despite the young blonde woman smiling for the camera and the character of her young  innocence it projects. There is a raw sleeziness to the images which also, makes me consider whether or not she was coerced into the photo session. These photos leave me with many questions. Possibly banal and mundane but somehow, I am intrigued and question why these images feel so personal and real, more so than most intimate photographs taken by professionals.

And lastly, Polaroids give me a creepy sensation of death. The subject's mortality is somehow reinforced with the click of the shutter. And yet, I am still drawn to the perverse quality it evokes.




"If you don't know...", Las Vegas, Nevada, 2002. Juliana Beasley




Here are some images from my Polaroid collection from my project "Juliana's Secret Stash". I took these images during the time I was working on my first book, "Lapdancer".  Now and in a previous post on this blog, I have begun to show them. I took these images with the lovely JoyCam. Others were taken by club management with the standard SX-70.





"Someone Wants Me One Day", Ft. Myers, Florida, 2002. Juliana Beasley




The concept was simple. As part of the fanfare, strip clubs sometimes offer the customer a Polaroid of themselves with the dancer or "feature dancer" (an erotic performer who has a fan club and following) of their liking. After the Polaroid is taken, the dancer or "feature dancer" signs something titillating at the bottom with a Sharpie. The customer then can return home with with this souvenir, a piece of memorabilia of the night in the club with their favorite performed. I decided to photograph the dancers alone on their free time with my JoyCam and simply asked them to write down what they were thinking at that very moment. I wanted to see expose the reality of what they were really thinking, beyond the cliched commentary reflecting the mundane "sexy" things they normally wrote at the bottom of the Polaroid on the white border.




"Fucked Up", Ft. Myers, Florida, 2002. Juliana Beasley



I wanted my own box of memorabilia from my stripper days. Whenever, there was an opportunity to be photographed with a sex industry celebrity, I stood on-line with the other customers and waited my turn.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

"Juliana's Secret Stash"

ART FAIR! A Group Show At Micheal Mazzeo Gallery.
Opening, March 4th from 6-9.

Come See Me at Micheal Mazzeo Gallery!


"Juliana as Amanda with Anonymous Customer", Naked City, Queens, N.Y., 1993?


This series of Polaroid’s is lovingly called, “Juliana’s Secret Stash”. I have kept this work hidden in a shoebox away from light and away from sight of others—except the occasional friend—for over almost two decades, until now. I will show part of this collection, in the form of larger sized scans of the Polaroid’s, for the first time at the Micheal Mazzeo Gallery from March 4th through April 11th 2009.

Other fabulous artists include:

Yong Hee Kim
Sebastian Lemm
Chris McCaw
Will Steacy
Leah Oates
Cara Phillips
F&D Cartier
Josh Quigley
Robin Schwartz
Rachael Dunville
Lucas Foglia
Timothy Eugene O’Tower
Lacey Terrell
Christopher Rauschenber


For more info on the show go to: http://www.michaelmazzeo.com/



What is "Juliana's Secret Stash About?"



"Juliana as Nico with the Ray Sisters", Naked City, Queens, N.Y., 1993?


During the 1990s, I was dancing and photographing in strip clubs in the tri-state area and around the USA, paving the way to completion of my book Lapdancer. Stuffed away into my duffle bag of g-strips and spandex costumes, I also toted along the SX-70 and Joy Cam Polaroid cameras to photograph dancers, take portraits of myself with other dancers and self-portraits.




"Juliana as Nico in Bathroom Stall, Self-Portrait", Naked City, Queens, N.Y. 1993?


Throughout my career as a dancer, I often took the opportunity to be photographed with well known and not so well known feature dancers and porn stars. Feature dancers are performers who come to the gentlemen’s club for the week to perform a "special" routine on stage, bringing in elated customers.

I had many chances to have my portrait taken with these weekly performers. When I worked in Honolulu for half a year, I found a club where porn stars and features were a common part of the program, night and day. They would fly in just to parade their specialty, whether it was grotesquely large implants, the size of three human heads smushed together in one globule, or a bubble bath on stage. They performed several times during a shift. In one week, they definitely earned more money than I did, or at least, this is what I heard from other dancers who estimated that in a year’s worth of work, they grossed 200K and more.

Between stage shows and meeting with adoring groupies, they hid in their personal dressing rooms. The “house” club dancers wondered what they did in there? I imagine apply more make-up upon sweaty made-up faces and calculate the day’s earnings with their traveling managers.

They were the rock stars of the business. We were the supporting actresses.

"Celeste", Ft. Myers, Florida, 2002.

Part of the fanfare was not only an effort to promote their unique performance, but also to sell their fanzines and offer a lasting memory to the customers in return for a nominal fee. After a performance, the male fans would line up in a corner of the club and pay to have a Polaroid taken of themselves and their favorite glamour queen. Instant gratification before the days of digital! The adult starlet would then scribble the customary signature on the Polaroid with something brazen such as the classic "Cum See Me". Sometimes, when they had the time, they would write something more original and address it to the customer.

I often went and took my place at the end of the cue to pleasantly ask the performer, “Can I have my photo taken with you?” Whatever they thought of me, I always walked away charmed and delighted with my new possession. All I wanted was a bit of nostalgia from my dancer days in the form of a celluloid Polaroid to hold onto for future days and laughs.

During the final years of working on Lapdancer, I was no longer dancing myself and traveled the United States simply to photograph. I went to Colorado, Las Vegas, Tampa, Ft. Myers and Miami. I began shooting “house” dancers with my newly bought Polaroid Joy Cam. I had an idea: I would photograph a dancer and ask her to sign the bottom of her portrait with a Sharpie just like the feature and porn actresses had done, elevating her to a higher level of stardom. Instead of the formulaic one-liners, I asked them to write what they were really thinking at that very moment while working a night’s shift at the club.

Many of the dancers wrote the ubiquitous “I want to make lots of MONEY” or something close to it. However, sometimes a dancer would write very personal ironic or sad one-lined commentaries. An older dancer from Ft. Myers named Pennie wrote under her portrait, “Thanks for seeing something in me that I no longer see”.





My concept was a simple. I wanted to create a visual pun mimicking the feature dancers’ flagrant self-presentation, a juxtaposition of fantasy in relation to reality. I knew from personal experience that behind every dancer’s smile and agreeable affect are thoughts far from the external trimmings.

I am intrigued with this frank inner monologue within each dancer and how it compares to that of the feature dancers’ contrived scribblings upon the Polaroid’s white edges.

This dichotomy is not singular, nor a detached phenomenon existing only within strip clubs. We are all tempted to pass through life euphorically embracing the consumption of fantasy, rather than facing not only simple joys, but also the reality of pain.