Been crazy about tires from the beginning!
Still am.
Why?
No idea.
Fix Flats, Clint, Texas, 2024, photograph by James Yontrofsky
FIX FLATS
WANNA RIDE WITH ME TOWARD THE SUN?
’48 Chrysler, El Paso, Texas, 2022, photograph by Bruce Berman
Photograph and rumination by Bruce Berman
I’m out of words.
Taught photography for 25 years. F-stops, shutter speeds, composition, GET CLOSER!, on and on and on.
In the beginning there was just photography and me.
Burned out? Talked out?
In the end, what is there to say?
The world is LIGHT. Photography is Light-writing (Greek). Actually light-noticing, good and bad. And commitment to doing it. Pretending it can be taught is a wink. If you really have no heart for it and realize the part about sweating to get it (which is universal to all pursuits), why botha.
And then there is love.
The love you feel when it’s good. The love you get from others who felt what and how you saw something. The love you can give by giving your heart in the form of that image, whether it’s a print (especially if it’s a print), on a monitor or I don’t know what else.
There I go again.
Words.
Just can’t!
Do you love this image?
OKLAHOMA
Text and photograph by Bruce Berman
Good ole days… when every inch wasn’t being developed.
It’s now a time of emptiness and greed and of “not enough of too much.” It’s too much.
There was a time of “Not enough was more than enough.” It looked better. Period.
JEAN’S GAMS, EL PASO, TEXAS
Jean’s Gams, El Paso, Texas, 1975
Photo and Text by Bruce Berman
All the signs are gone, or gone to a hipster bar somewhere in America. The Funk is sanitized. Hosiery bar? Really? How un Gucci.
For me that era was a treasure chest waiting for me to open it and when I did… TREASURE!
You got anything to compare to this, now?
Somehow the Walmart Women’s section just doesn’t have the juice.
Is there anywhere on this planet now that isn’t manufactured?
I think there is.
Not sharing. Going. My soul needs authenticity. I guess everyone’s does. We’re on our own.
BRONCO STREET
Luis Jimenez’ (Jr. and Senor) Bronco, Alameda Street, El Paso, Texas, 1987 by ©Bruce Berman
BATERIAS LUCHADOR
Baterias Luchador, El Paso, Texas, October 2022
PATINA: A RUMINATION
by ©Bruce Berman
Text/Photography by Bruce Berman
Music Video by Bob Dylan
The funk is almost gone.
The generation that lived it is going down, too.
The 1930s (like this truck), 40s, 50s, 60s and even 70s is just about disappeared (desesparado).
I watch it go.
I watch parts of me go with it.
No energy actually vanishes. It reappears, new, in another form. Life ongoing… just not how we expected.
Is that the lesson of history, of photography of things from the past, of this image, Funk #731?
This truck could be rehabbed. Buffed up. Sprayed new. But it won’t be new. Glossier than it ever was. But it won’t be new. It could be stripped down to its individual pieces and bits, item by item, pump by pump, ball joint by ball joint, reassembled.
But it won’t be new.
Can I be?
FORD ARROW
Ford arrow, Las Cruces, New Mexico, by ©Bruce Berman, 2015
BUS STOP IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE
Bus Stop, El Paso, Texas, 2019 by Bruce Berman
DISEMBODIED FORD
Disembodied Ford, La Mesa, New Mexico, 2017
STREET GUY #51
Jesus, Street Guy series #51, 2018
THE GRID COMETH: EXURBIA #7
Exurbia #7. Horizon City, Texas, 2018
Text and photograph by Bruce Berman
The Exurbia series concentrates on the landscape that is neither suburban nor urban. It is usually found in the lands just beyond the suburbs, places where individuals and small businesses went, years ago, where the land was cheap and undeveloped. Now The Grid is coming to these places, doing what The Grid does: gobble up the land, erase or sandpaper its textures, oust the one-of-a-kind, make things safe and expected, over-electrified and deadingly dull.
Exurbia is the land that is America today, a place where the suburban cookie cutter machine has come and is bringing the American Dream, which for many is the American Bore.
THE KEY TO HEAVEN
El Paso, Texas, 2016
Photograph and text by Bruce Berman
This is about “it” folks.
The last of this barrio, this old ‘hood, known in earlier days as El Pujido (the “push” referencing some knife fights the deteriorating barrio came to be known by in the fifties and sixties).
From the west is coming a vicious storm of hipsterism, of micro brewery culture, restaurants with fuzzy foo foo pinched across the top of, well, some tiny thing underneath.
ONE NATION
One Nation. Memorial Day, Fabens, Texas, May 2018
SINALOA FIN
Sinoloa fin, Malaque, Jalisco, México, 1982
REDOING THE CLOCK
Redoing The Clock. El Paso, Texas, 2018
It’s been 5:00 o’clock at The Clock on Dyer Street for as long as I’ve been in El Paso (43 years).
It’s reassuring that time does not change particularly after 43 years (if you know what I mean).
But even in a land where time stands still, once in awhile, roadside signs need to be renewed.
It’s an art form. The letters are made of rubbery plastic. You have to know what you’re doing and this phantom sign renewer does. Name? Withheld. Working for the restaurant? Not saying. Getting paid? Maybe.
It’s almost 5:00PM for this image. It’ll be almost 5:00AM in twelve hours.
Even a broken clock is right… twice a day.
CROWN OF CANUTILLO, TEXAS: RUMINATION ON FACTS
Text by Bruce Berman
Whatever this crown was announcing is long gone. A bar? A restaurant? A store? Probably a bar… but who knows?
The photograph of the Crown of Canutillo, Texas is what remains (and perhaps a memory here and there).
Who constructed it? Why a crown in this funky little town that’s on the border up against New Mexico? Was there dancing?
Who knows?
ROOSTER CITY
BRUCE BERMAN
West Texas seems vast, seamless, endless and infinite.
But consider the Universe!
No walls. No boundaries?
No end we can even imagine.
Can you get your head around that?
I cannot.
JUKE JOINT
The Funklands
The Funklands are where you find them, and, when.
Bruce Berman started this project when he was in his early 20s, in the 1970s, and just starting out in photography. He cruised the highways and the low-ways of America, no particular agenda, stopping often (to the consternation of those driving with him), always looking for the funk, the detritus of other eras, the iconography of his youth and the times before him.
This America is now almost gone. It hangs over bars in places like Austin or Madison, Los Angeles or Chicago. The Funklands have turned into “Fly Over” territory, still there, still quasi rural, but now, unrobed. The structure of the Funklands, textured, bold, spectacular, has been replaced by franchised plastic, flatness, sameness.
We celebrate corporate identity in the iconography of now, not roosters and skeletons and old Cadillacs.
The Funk has turned from delight to nothingness. Occasionally there is a McDonald’s that riffs on a local theme, but pretty much not.
The Funk is hard to find.
HAPPY HOUR EL PASO
Text and photograph by Bruce Berman
El Paso is in transition. It was always complicated. There was the whole “Southwest” thing and then again, there was the whole Chicanismo thing, and then again there was the cowboy thing, and then again there was a certain ex Pat vibe for 60s and 70s refugees who never went home.
And there was the growing suburban thing, the Ohio is too cold and El Paso is affordable tilt.
Viva complication!
Now El Paso is getting more simple. It is trying to spruce itself up and become a destination. They have a baseball team downtown now, and a restored fancy movie theater within walking distance of it and there are bicycle riders and bicycle lanes everywhere ( a sure sign that the “texture days” are done).
It’s still El Paso but some (real estate developers and those that are young that can’t quite make it out) hunger for it to be Cincinnati. Good luck.
For those who have known El Paso for many decades, to see court jester-dressed bicyclists pedaling through downtown is jarring. It is a pure contrast to the bruised authenticity that has been El Paso’s greatest strength (for me), for those of us who have been hiding here.
Terry and the Dinosaur
Terry and the Dinosaur, Benson, Arizona
October 8, 2011 by Bruce Berman