August 15, 2019

BEN FELDMAN or not BEN FELDMAN ( home story, LA)


Text by Ben Feldman

This is not my life. These are not my toys. This is not my beautiful house. Domesticity and the responsibilities assigned to it is the absence of glamour. I remember the Talking Heads song. How did I get here? The days are sticky and bright. There are so many primary colors. It’s the morning after a birthday. Am I the person I was last night or am I the sweaty hangover today? Nothing looks familiar. Nothing tastes the same. But at the same time, it’s exactly what I expected. Living in a memory. A repeat. A script. And I can’t feel it rushing past me so my mind wanders. Letting the days go by. Same as it ever was. 

September 17, 2015


***** InMyBestOf

Shot in NYC, 2013. I met Julia Morrison at the famous club “The Box” on the Lower East Side, after we saw a man with silicone boobs performing on stage, shitting on a pizza, and eating it. I am still in shock when Julia, with her angelic appearance, shows up and says: ” You smell like something to eat.” This is how our collaboration started. Soon, we’ll sit in her apartment in Brooklyn, going through her stuff for the photo shoot. When she shows me a white dress that belonged to her now-deceased grandmother, Julia says: “We can’t use it, ’cause it might get dirty”. Right away I feel my task. A conversation about memories, material items, and family follows. When we’re out, I go in the next shop and come back with ketchup. “Ruining Grannie’s dress” is what I’ve got in mind. The American truck, the ketchup, a beauty in a white dress – could hardly be better…but when she squeezes the ketchup it comes out as a halo, before it ends up on her dress and ruins it.