kevin farrell Photography

Thanks for your kindness to spent time to view my picture and comment on it. You have a wonderfull portfolio.I like to c more from you. Regards Haksar

I'm so sorry for that photo (Double head baby!). I deleted it. Thanks for your comment.

Regards.

Hi! yes, I'm persian and living in Iran. what for?! (thanks for your commetns)

My english isn't very good, so I just can thank you and no more! Good luck.

Cool portfolio!

Grazie kevin , le tue parole sono sempre molto gentili, e dette da un artista come te, fanno molto piacere. grazie Maurizio

HI I might be knocking on the wrong door... but some month ago I saw a photo in your portfolio --self portrait--back + mirror, Was it here? I liked the move. Could I see that again? THX

Mon Grabowski, No, that was not mine.

This is a really interesting portfolio - great photography.

Thank you for the comment!

Kevin.

I like your strong images. Congrts.

Yes, your images are strong and different from those of our european word. I don't share the U.S.A. style of life but I like very much your photos! BRAVO, ciao...Maurizio.

I caught your name in the comment section of my folio and wanted to see what you are doing, Stunning superb work! Very original!

Where are you located? I would love to venture out on a shoot with you.

http://www.photo.net/photos/X-Ray

Hi, Don, I appreciate your visiting my page, it is an honor. Your compliments are too kind. I have a ton to learn. I will accept the encouragement, just the same, I need all the help I can get.

Superb! great work. very dinamic and expresive.

gs

Caro Kevin, innanzitutto grazie per il tuo interesse per la mia foto! sono contento che tu conosca l' italiano, cos젰osso esprimermi meglio! sono completamente d' accordo con le tue parole che esprimi nella tua "biografia": le immagini artistiche sono come il "genio della lampada di Aladino", esistono da sole ma prendono il senso di chi le guarda.E' tutto un gioco di immagini interne ed esterne: di incontro tra inconscio dell' artista e dell' osservatore. Le tue immagini sono molto diverse dalle mie ma mi piacciono molto: vuol dire che in qualche modo siamo simili!Ciao, Maurizio.

7:44 AM Saturday May 6, 2006.

Back from the rave. Meeting all kinds of people. Weapons specialist back from Iraq looking for "weed." A lethal motherfucker I am, says he. Strippers, gangsters, professional criminals, dreamers, schemers, con men, girls with low esteem, boys with no esteem, drifters, go-go dancers, pot smokers, ecstasy trippers, boozers, losers, the innocent and the damned. They are all here.

Osama bin Laden hung out in the clubs in Beirut. Now he encourages others to bomb the same kinds of places. He is just another con man from club land. He had the same weapons and communications training under the CIA as the US soldiers who come and go from Iraq and Afghanistan. In his youth he had smoked the same marijuana, listened to the same pumping dance music played by the same DJ's, dreamed about the same bar room angels. The distance from the night club to the training camps of the mujahadeen is not so far. Mohamed Atta, the September 11 attack leader, spent his last night on earth in a stripper bar. They all end up in the clubs at some point.

My own journey has been, up until now, only about moving forward. How do I get into the show for free? How do I get into the VIP section? How do I make contact with the people who can get me what I need? How do I meet this person? How do get that person interested in talking to me? There has been no thought of defense or retreat, of how to get out. There has been no thought of how to keep certain kinds of people away from me. The camera attracts all types. Have to stay on your toes. Move quickly away if things start getting weird. The disco ball world is a pretty place full of pretty people. It all seems magic and inviting. Under the surface is need, gnawing away incessantly. You have the impression nothing at all is happening in a club. Actually, everyone is very busy.

With each trip into club land I recognize my own hunger a little more. I feel my own need. When I do not find a way to fight back, I feel need eating me up inside. One way to fight back is to shoot. Another is to talk a little. Another, my favorite, is to dance.

Using my yoga to get my hips lower when I dance. When I shoot women, I move with them, planting my hips, which takes energy. If you do not plant, they know something is wrong. You have to decisively establish your presence. It is physical labor. If you want to get things out of people, you have to earn it with them. You have to meet their need, inch by inch. It is grueling.

Shooting in the disco ball world makes me see how selfish I have been. How used to remaining within myself I have become. But in the end, the need wells up. Like a fever. Like a sickness. Cannot be rid of it. Must be met. So I venture out, armed with a camera for an excuse. But the camera is only a prop. I think everyone sees through my ploy, too. I do not imagine I am fooling anyone. I am not coldly photographing this pretty place. I need it. Perhaps more than any of my subjects. Though I never buy drinks, and never pay cover, I am the ultimate bar fly. The irony is I am an illiterate when it comes to dealing with people. I am stiff. I am a bore. I do not get it. I am a dork.

But I am making some progress. I realize that the essence of dorkiness is neediness. That is, letting your needs get the better of you. It is one thing to need, it is another to impose your need. The key is to be independent. Keep your mouth shut. Know your place, keep it and wait. Tonight I did a good job of waiting and it paid off. I find friends in odd places. A kind-hearted stripper. A tough go-go dancer with a heart of gold. A smooth-talking drug-dealer. As I fight against my dorkiness, my manner becomes less intrusive. I ask permission with my body. I show respect.

And the good vibes came back to me. I got in close and took a lot of shots. I plant my hips, as I have written above. I plant my whole body in front of people, and it takes some energy. But they respond to the respect. When people in earlier times bowed and curtsied, it was called showing reverence. I show reverence. It is good therapy for my quiet arrogance. I honor the god within.

I find the physical reverence speaks louder than words. Because in the clubs and at the raves people talk with their bodies. Communication is visual. People let you know their mood through the clothes they wear, through physical gesture, through facial expressions. They express their joy through dance and movement. And they pursue the personal power of glamour, the magic that is made through bedazzlement. The dance world is visual feast. It is spectacle. It is neckaces and cleavage and decollete. It is muscles and assertion.

Sunday morning May 7 11:16 AM

Oh, God, not another fucking beautiful day. OK, that is someone else's line. I am trying it out. I dream of being a decadent child of the night. Really, I am just me.

Reflections on the last two nights. For the first time, I felt the danger. Things can come out of nowhere. Lots of scary people out at night. Out of their minds on drugs. Out of their minds on need. There is lots of bumping and shoving on the dance floor. Last night there was a fight between two girls. Status. The need for respect. The struggle for distinction.

There is wheeling and dealing in club land. Shifting tides. Navigation is an essential skill. You use, and you are used. Got to cut the right deals. Do not pay too much. Learn to walk away. Learn to say, "no." Enough is enough. Not enough is not enough. Too much, is too much.

I learned a new word. "Rolling." To roll is to be high on the drug ecstasy. "Are you rolling?" people will ask. "Yeah, I'm rolling," might be the reply. Though I do not do ecstasy, I know there are times when I am rolling, and times when I am not. There are times when I have got the juice, and can do no wrong, just as there are times when it is not my night. Vanity can make you want every night to be yours. When you are high, you think you will never come down. The secret is to accept it when the roll comes to an end. Friday night I had the magic. Saturday night it was suddenly gone. Friday night I was reaching hearts. Saturday night I got cold stares from the same people. The people I ran into last night, who had been at the rave Friday, all had the same complaints. Tired. We were all irritable, I think. Pissed off there is only so much fun in the bank. The high is never real. You only see after you have come down.

Thursday May 11, 2006 11:55 PM

It is easy to allow yourself to be pulled in by all the comeraderie. The clinking of glasses, the smiles, the encouragement: "I love your work, are you going to be posting these somewhere? Let me give you my card." It all seems so real. And you need to believe it. Need to believe something. Want to believe anything. But there is nothing to believe. There is only you. And in the end, you are all you have got.

Got to keep moving. Do not fall asleep. Do not wait for things to happen. Photography is about depending upon others. But you do not want to keep depending on the same people. You have to keep expanding your circle of contacts. Have to keep getting out there, making calls, cutting new deals. Plans always go up in smoke. Words. Plan B is what is real.

It is easy to be sucked in by the allure of promises. Like so many good intentions to pave a road to Hell. I daydream. I hang on to every smile, every kindly word. Cannot help but believe it for a little while. Amid the buzz of plans and projects you forget yourself. Everything seems possible. But sooner or later you come back down to earth and realize you have been fooled again. The high is never real.

12:18 PM Sunday May 14, 2006.

Last night was DJ Roger Sanchez at Level followed by a short stay at one party, then 'til dawn at Visage.

The pictures are only going to be as good as I manage to deal with people. It always takes an effort. Cannot get upset when things do not go your way. The magic was not working strongly last night. I will be surprized if I got one good picture. People are not always receptive. And I am still a little eager. The opportunities always exist. Even when the magic is not there. People have to be drawn in. That takes effort. Seduction is hard. The temptation is to come at people, thinking only of what one wants. It can be annoying to have to respect people. It can seem like a chore. You have to find them. You have to figure out what they want. They can be crabby. Or afraid. They are capricious. And fickle. They have different plans than we do. Hell is other people. Photography is Hell.

Saturday 4:33 AM May 20, 2006.

Back from the Farley Jackmaster Funk gig at Level. Sparse crowd but nice vibe. Farley is about 40, or so. He said, "Back in the days," into the microphone. He plays old school Chicago house with a heavy R&B, 70's disco feel. Lots of brass. Took a few shots of him in the VIP room.

for your kindest words on my gallery, Kevin.

This is the magic of photography as a form a modern art (don't want to sound pretentious) and a seupeior form of communication. What we do, you and I, seems very much apart, different objects, different style, different everything. And yet, I like what you do and I hope you like what I do.

Congrats, keep in touch.

Nice of you to drop by, Sylvie. Ladies and gentlemen, Sylvie Lueders. (Applause)

Flying around last week-end in the back of a cab with Big Mama J at 3 am, going from party to party, fulfilled a life-long wish to be Paparazzo, Marcello Mostroiani's character in Fellini's 'La doce vita.' Flying around on a Vespa from party to party, covering the lives of the indolent and the beautiful seemed to be the only thing worth doing. Because it was cool. Because there was this vibe. And an adrenolyne rush. It was a drug. An addiction. Always on to the next adventure with the comrades. The call of the sea. One is a Captain Ahab, ever pursuing the whale. One should stay ashore and marry. But one cannot resist the allure of the ever-changing sea and an unpredictable, mysterious future. Paparazzo should marry the Yvonne Furneau character. But then he would have to stay home. He would not meet Nico, or Claudia Cardinale, or have his almost kiss with Anita Ekberg in the Trevi fountain.

kevin,i feel you have some really cool,funky and original pictures here and i'm gonna keep coming back for more.keep clubbing.

Useless to defend myself, Sylvie Lueders, you have got me. I thank you for having noticed. I can see I had better stay on my toes. In the meantime, here is something for you.

mercis pour tes commentaires!!

j'ai encore bien du travail pour atteindre ton niveau.

j'ai eu l'occasion de travailer en boite de nuit, pour gagner un peu d'argent pendant une periode de chomage. je shoote les gens le soir et leur vende la photo le lendemain, mais je n'arrivais pas souvent, a avoir le rendus de tes images. (trop de lumieres parasites) tu as saissis de nombreuses expressions et "sentiments" qu'il y as dans les boites de nuit,celles qui pour moi sont toujours les plus poignantes sont celles, du petit matin.

celle-ci par exemple est exceptionnelle:

After a warehouse party, Saint Paul, Minnesota, April 2006

cordialement

JLC

Hey, I'm glad you actually read my bio and got something rewarding from it. Those photographers mean a lot to me and its super to share powerful knowledge with intelligent people. That Larry Burrows 2002 book is a very emotional book, not only because it made me cry and spit curses at all the wrong committed in this flawed world but also because Larry shows such compassion and respect through his photos. Thanks for your comment,and hey, your thought snippets on your portfolio are really good pieces of writing, your a very descriptive and talented writer. I like reading them, as well as viewing your intense photos.

You are starting to sound like La Marquise de Merteuil in Laclos' Les liasons dangereuses, Bergman. If you remember, she egged Valmont into seducing a young ingenue. Is this a challenge? How can I resist?

As for my thread, my original thought was, What makes hot porn hot? But the question smoked out some unexpected responses and made me aware of some new things. Most people, including Hicks, for example, or Tom Meyer, do not want to condemn all erotic images (see Hicks' comments on the photographs of Jenny Darden). They want to condemn only certain ones. Then they try to explain why some porn is OK, and some is not. They often appeal to higher causes, God, women's rights, human rights, fair labor practices, personal hygene. I have yet to see a consistant argument.

You are one contentious guy. Cruised through your photos, since we have been interchanging a bit of discourse. The very first thing that strikes me is that you must be over the age of 40 based on the way you write and your knowledge in general. I mean show me one kid today who knows who Marshall McCluhan is. So if you really are that mature, you sure hang with a much younger crowd. That right there would get my admiration. I couldn't take that music. Sure as hell can't do the allnighters and booze and whatever either. Anyway, they are mostly interesting snippets that I have enjoyed going through.

Geez, is it that obvious? What good is the plastic surgery going to do me if my writing gives me away. Anyway, I do not know that I hang out with these people. They put up with me. For the moment. I do love dance music, though.

Some very fine B&W docu work here. A pleasure to view. And a testament that B&W film continues to be the medium of choice for documentary work.

Junk photos, trashy low light snapshots, and a lot of other cool shit. Thoroughly enjoyed the combined mixed aspects of your folio.

Thx

Ciao Kevin, grazie per i buon apprezzamenti che hai delle mie foto. Particolari ma molto interessanti i tuoi lavori. A presto Antonio

I live in St. Paul and have lived in Mpls as well. I literally don't have time to do street photography, so its nice to see somebody local doing some interesting stuff.

No one's agitating on your portfolio, Kevin Farrell.

I like your photos. They are arty cos they're b&w. That last one was a joke.

However, how come most of your pics are of chics? Snapping men doesn't mean you're gay ya know!

after reading your Bio and and looking at your Pictures i have more respect for you I am just wondering why it took this for me to look at your Wonderful Images shoot free post free express yourself Wade Rose

I did not disapprove any of the above comments marked "disapprove," Agamemnon.

Thank you for your comments - but I don't read French!! Care to translate?

I'm doing it because i am interested in erotica and like to photograph the human body. The assignment said choose a genre you are excited about. It's for my Visual Signs paper - there's nothing more loaded with symbols and signs than erotica. Thanks for looking at my portfolio Kevin.

Maybe you could give me some advice - I'm applying for a summer job with a magazine called UNO. They are a lifestyle mag - fashion, shopping, houses, people, local events, art etc. I have to submit a portfolio with my application. Which (if any) of my pix from my work on here do you think might be what they are looking for? Should I send them a range of all the school assignments plus samples of the paid work I've done? Oooops, your advice IS free... right? :-)

Oosam. You draw the real lights in your picture. I have learn some of the diferent angels from your piks.. so nice of the day life.

Strange portfolio !