Or … at least his photograph is. Dennis Hopper has a big show of his photography going on at Moscow’s Museum of Photography. Here’s a nice review of it. About 10 years ago, there was a great exhibit at the Whitney (I can’t believe I’m saying those things in the same sentence: “great exhibit” and “Whitney” – there’s a funny story about my dad and me going to the Whitney and we walked into one room where there was some light-and-color installation – with strobe lights and reflections – a big empty room, and my dad, an art connoisseur, saying loudly, “So. Where’s the art?” hahahahaha But I digress!) Anyway, the Whitney did a whole “Beat generation” exhibit – and it was fanTASTIC. I literally wanted to EAT some of the art I saw. hahaha There were tons of photographs – of Ginsberg and all those dudes – doing readings at City Lights, stuff like that – Kerouac’s typewriter and the long ROLL of the On the Road manuscript – it wasn’t separate pages, it was a scroll – Dennis Hopper’s work was everywhere throughout the exhibit – and if you’ve never seen his photographs, I suggest you look them up. They’re wonderful – my kind of Americana. He’s from Kansas – there’s something in his eye that really understands space, and horizon, and small towns – little diners, and coffee shops, and floozy waitresses – I love all that stuff. Like this. (Love the title of that one too – it resonates) But then there’s whimsical photos of his friends – like this one. hahahaha The photo of Stockwell that is included in the show is below. My question is: Guys, how much pot have you actually smoked? I mean, seriously!! It’s 1964, and Dean Stockwell has a fried egg on his face, and he’s shining a flashlight on it. Goofballs. Friends. Love it. And I’m glad Hopper’s show got a nice review – his work certainly deserves it.
