Carl Weingarten

Sculpterra Panoramic

2012-02-14T12:09:00.000-08:00

A couple of weeks ago Ihad the pleasure of playing with Diane Arkenstone’s band at the SculpterraWinery in Paso Robles, CA. The setting was beautiful, and we lucked outwith the weather. During a break Iwalked over to the vineyard and took some photos, including this panoramicstitch. Rather than smoothing everythingout, I kept the soft blend to each frame, showing the steps through eachperspective. Plus, I have a thing forthe NASA probe montages and the classic wintery moonscapes. --cw

The Wonderful Mrs. Bartlett

2012-01-27T13:47:00.000-08:00

There’s something about artistswho work off the grid, who insist on finding their own creative way. Established styles can be inspiring, andpopular trends are seductive, but in my view, the best work is for its ownsake.

One such person was a woman whoworked at the Delmar-Harvard Elementary School Iattended in the 1960s. Her name was Mrs.Bartlett. She was not a teacher, thoughI learned from her. She was not an administrator,secretary or librarian. Mrs. Bartlett wasthe school janitor. She was a friendlyand memorable staff member who enjoyed working around children.

That’s all I would likely have rememberedhad it not been for one important episode. On a particular school day, possibly in second grade, I was down in thebasement hallway near the exit to the playground. Mrs. Bartlett’s office door was open and shewas inside. I was by myself and probablyjust curious, and she greeted me as I said hello. There, among her brooms, buckets and cleaningsupplies, were easels and canvases. Iasked her what they were and she said, “They’re mine.” Mrs. Bartlett was also a painter.

This was something of a revelationto me. Art, or so I thought, was what wedid in class for school, or it was something in a museum. But until thatmoment, it did not occur to me that art was anywhere else. But there it was, a group of paintings restingon the shelves of our school custodian’s office.

I’m embarrassed to say it now,but I was so taken with the discovery that I likely and immediately asked herif I could have one of her paintings. Idon’t know how she took my request, but she agreed to give me a particular workwhich she said was at home. So I waited,and I’m sure reminded her each and every school day that followed. Finally, one morning she told me the paintingwas in the bedroom where her husband slept and didn’t want to disturb him. She promised to set the painting by her frontdoor that evening, “So I won’t forget it.” The next school day, she presented me with theartwork. Mounted on a modest 15” squareof cardboard, the painting was a colorful and impressionistic country scene ofa house, bridge and stream. The canvas hadbeen stretched and wrapped around the back, where it was secured with glue. To myeyes, it was beautiful. It was signed, “To a lovely little boy, may you alwaysstay that way. Love, Mrs. Bartlett .” Mrs. Bartlett said it was painted at theproperty she and her husband owned outside of the city. This was in keeping with the view of a friendI recently consulted, and who paints professionally. According to her, Mrs. Bartlett’s work is asincere expression, with skilled use of color and depth in “clearly a cherishedscene.”

It was a thrill to receive Mrs. Bartlett’sgift and my excitement was contagious. Imay have “discovered” Mrs. Bartlett, but as a result, other students did aswell. On a day soon after, Mrs. Bartlettentered our classroom with two more paintings. I recall more than a twinge of envy as she cheerfully handed the paintingsto an excited pair of classmates.

I’ve kept the painting, of course, and recentlytook it out of storage to make a photo copy for the first time. I have not beenable to find any more details about Mrs. Bartlett or her work. The sweet nostalgic tone of her inscription suggestsshe was an older person. It’s entirelypossible that she and her husband were retired, perhaps living out of town,where she commuted to work at the school for the extra income.

Painting, as it turned out, wouldnot be the direction for me. But the episode sparked something. The notion that someone who seemed ordinarycould have extraordinary skills was empowering to me, especially at a time whenI was failing at school. As I wrote thispiece, I remembered something else. Itwas about the same time that I received my first camera and began photography.

University City High School Arts | 1975 Super 8 Film

2012-01-09T08:38:00.000-08:00

They say you can never go home again. That’s unless you book a round tripticket. It took me almost three decadesto look back at the films I did during the 10 years between junior high and throughcollege. So, recently, inspired by therenewed interest of the Super 8 format, I opened the old boxes and began transferring mySuper 8 films to DVD. One of movies wasthis one, “The High School of The Arts” which I made at University City High Schoolin St. Louis 1975. This film was my first attemptat a documentary. Three art teacherswere profiled including, Tom Lawless (sculpture), Carol Ray (ceramics) andSherry Londe (modern dance). All threewere very popular and highly regarded educators, as I’m sure my classmates wouldagree. They were also among my firstcreative mentors, who encouraged me and my high school movie geek aspirations.

I recorded interviews with each teacher for the film, askingabout their work and careers. Their commentswere edited and mixed over the classroom footage I shot. Sorry to say, much of the soundtrack has crumbledaway in storage. The first interview,featuring the late-great Tom Lawless sounds clear (Who could forget THATvoice!), but unfortunately much of the audio for Carol Ray and Sherry Londe didn’tsurvive. I may have the source interviewtape in storage somewhere, and if I come across it, I’ll post it. In any case, I thought my homies would liketo see this.

Rediscovering "Conquista"

2011-12-27T08:45:00.000-08:00

Ourpersonal influences are immeasurable. They pour in through our senses every day, constantly shaping who we areand the choices we make. There are alsothose subconscious influences, akin to the Butterfly Effect, which is a beliefthat any event, including the waving of an insect wings are said to be enoughto shape human behavior. If true, thatwould also apply to mosquitoes.

WhenI was in high school, I watched a television special that depicted the firstmeeting between a horse and a Native American. The story took place in the 1500s when the Spanish arrived, bringinghorses to North America for the first time. I was interested in the program as I had been riding horses since I was12 at a summer camp in central Missouri called Camp Crystal Creek. The camp honored Native American culture andhistory, and a network TV program that showed the Indian’s point of view wasjust new in mainstream media.

Thestory begins on a western prairie. A young Native American encounters a horse,an animal he has never seen before. Overa single day, the horse and man struggle for dominance, in some of the beststunt riding scenes I have ever seen. Inthe end, the horse accepts the Indian as a rider and companion.

Irecorded the audio of the broadcast on an old reel to reel tape recorder. During my final year in high school, Ilistened to the soundtrack over and over. A few years ago, I began searching for the film, for which I hadforgotten the title. I had no luck untilvery recently. In a dated blog post,several fans of the film were asking about the program and what it was. Replies appeared, and with details. It turns out the film was a BBC productionmade in 1970, filmed in Spain and directed by author/filmmaker MichaelSyson. It was called “Conquista”. The music was by composer John Scott. The acting and stunt riding work was JoseMaria Serrano.

Apparentlythere were several versions of Conquista, beginning with the original 40 minutetheatrical release in London, followed by a U.S. network broadcast with actorRichard Boone’s narration, and finally an abridged version, distributed forschools.

Findingthe movie wasn’t easy. Aside from areference to an out of print VHS, few people I wrote to had even heard of thefilm. After weeks of failed leads, Ifound a film collector who was liquidating his inventory of 16mm schoolfilms. To my amazement, he had the film,and was willing to part with it.

Iwatched the movie for the first time in three decades. I wasn’t shocked that the movie didn’t liveup to my memory, but I wasn’t disappointed either. Conquista may not have been a big budgetproduction, but the director certainly delivered on his unique vision. John Scott’s music is still inspiring. Surprisingly modern, his orchestrations havea classical-Spanish flare, much like Ennio Morriconne’s spaghetti westernscores from the same period. I reflectedon Conquista’s hidden influence in my own music. I could see why it had such an impact on meas a teenager. The setting, the discovery,and the struggle, along with the physical adventure, is a great coming of agestory.

Hereis a few minutes of “Conquista”, Including the Indian’s first successful ride.

An Introduction To "Bunk Beds"

2011-12-19T15:12:00.000-08:00

A Making Of video for the holiday-children's single "Bunk Beds"

Download the "Bunk Beds" Single

2011-12-19T15:07:00.000-08:00

My friends, here is the new single, "Bunk Beds" as a free download via Soundcloud. It was fun recording this song, and I hope everyone enjoys it.

I came up with "Bunk Beds" during summer 2011, one afternoon while I was practicing guitar at a local pub. Slide guitar is usually played in an open tuning, and I was playing in G, which I hadn’t worked in for a while. I was just fooling around and the melody came together in a few minutes. Over the next few weeks I added a middle section, and once the song was together, we recorded it with guitars, piano, percussion and vocals. I wanted to go for as big a sound as possible, but recorded with live musicians (Celso Alberti percussion, Troy Arnett keyboards, sister Tate and Reece Bissinger vocals) rather than canned orchestration. This gave Bunk Beds a “live” and intimate feel.

Philadelphia Concert & WXPN Broadcast

2011-10-12T12:15:00.000-07:00

Hey all. This week I fly to Philadelphia to join Jeff Oster (trumpet) and Michael Manring (bass) for a weekend of jazz/ambient music concerts and recording sessions. On Friday we tape two sets of music for the syndicated public radio program Echoes (http://www.echoes.org/). Saturday evening we play a show for the legendary Gatherings Concert Series (http://www.thegatherings.org/), and then hustle over to WXPN-FM for a late night zombie set, which will stream live over the internet from 2-3am Sunday morning EST. Here’s the link: http://xpn.org/music-artist/xpn-stream.

Unlike Michael and Jeff, I don’t get to tour very often. I’m a recording studio homeboy, but there’s nothing like a live audience road test for inspiration and perspective. In the mid 80s I made a brief go of solo touring. I had released a few LPs at that point. Airplay and contacts were all on the upswing, and the indie music scene was wide open. With each gig, I’d pack my Ford Escort wagon and hit the road. No cell phone. No email. No Internet. No credit card. Just a map, a list of phone numbers, some cash and change for pay phones. With luck, the gig paid for my return trip. I’ve been reflecting on a few of those (mis)adventures lately, including a week long drive to and from Philadelphia in 1987. Lindbergh crossing the Atlantic I was not. No legion of French girls on the other side for Carl. It was many hours of bleary-eyed highway hypnosis, uncreative detours, toll bridges, air-break deafness, spooky rest stops, mountain roads, radio static, cassette tape jams, spilled coffee, french fries and other diner delicacies. Character building, yes. Great music, fer sure. Cool people, absolutely. Worth it? I like to think I came out ahead. Hope I left something behind too.

A Belated Thanks

2011-08-24T16:59:00.000-07:00

The more I’ve come to know myself, the more I appreciate the people who shaped and influenced who I am. I had an opportunity to thank one of those people during a recent visit back to St. Louis. Over ice tea and pasta my friend and I shared lunch at a local Italian restaurant I had often been to with my family while growing up. Though my friend and I had exchanged letters recently, we had not seen each other in about 36 years. Now in person, she and I caught up regarding our careers, families, our elementary school (now closing after 100 years) memories, and I showed her some photos I had taken as a child. They were photos of my old classmates. My classmates. Her students. Mrs. Susan Beecher was my third grade teacher – twice.

Mrs. Beecher began her teaching career in the mid 1950s. She taught elementary school in the University City School district of St. Louis, where I attended. Later, in high school, when she was awarded Teacher of the Year, I went to visit and congratulate her. Despite the thousands of students she’d already had, she recognized me right away, just as she did as we met for lunch. When I thanked her for helping me, she responded politely, but almost in passing. As we continued talking, it occurred to me that someone with a life of service to others sees their work with a long view. It was up to me to appreciate the value of our experience.

I didn’t do very well in school. I had a learning disability (unrecognized at the time) which made school often a bewildering experience. To compound this, I had come down with Nephritis when I was in first grade. Confined to bed for two months, I fell impossibly behind. By third grade the school had no choice but to hold me back. As an eight year old, the humiliation of repeating a grade was devastating, but the fear of losing friends and classmates was even worse.

But tough love is a blessing. Mrs. Beecher believed in me. She and our veteran principal Mr. Earl Greeson, insisted that she have me as her student a second time. It was a smart move. During that second year, I was treated no differently than the other students, but the familiarity of the class and Mrs.Beecher’s personal encouragement, made all the difference. My old classmates were there in passing every day, and new friends came easy. It turned out there was some notoriety in being a repeater. I became the go-to guy. Many a classmate’s head swiveled in my direction when Mrs. Beecher presented a new subject. I’d been there, man. For the first time, school wasn’t perpetually confusing. I was never a great student, but for one important year, and thanks to Mrs. Beecher, I felt like one. --CW

Bodie 2011 or Las Vegas 2062?

2011-08-09T12:48:00.000-07:00

Speaking of boom, bust, recession and what not. I traveled to Bodie California a few weeks ago. I have always wanted to visit and photograph a genuine ghost town. And Bodie it is. In 1880 Bodie was a sprawling mining town of 7000 men, women, prospectors, entrepreneurs, settlers, industrialists, gamblers, robbers, swindlers, business ladies, and bankers. Today only 5 percent of the peak era settlement remains above ground. Preserved as a national park, the decaying buildings stand sprinkled over the Martian like desert landscape. It’s a beautiful, eerie and amazingly quiet place. Though we arrived late, and I only had an hour to shoot, the afternoon light turned out to be perfect. As the jeep driving park rangers bull-horned people back to their cars, I wondered do all empires inevitably end up as tourist attractions?

New Web Site

2011-08-08T12:43:00.000-07:00

Announcing a new web site isn’t the ground breaking news it was 10 years ago, but since it still ranks over a listing in the phonebook, I thought I’d post this invitation. Please visit. From the main page, choose either Music or Photography. On the Photo side you can view several flash galleries, including portfolio, pinhole camera, or restored photographs. There’s also a poster shop. On the Music side is news (CD coming this fall), reviews and video, plus an MP3 download page. The catalog lists CDs currently in print. Each album page has a music player, where you can listen to the entire CD. Enjoy. Same URL, www.carlweingarten.com

Photo Restoration - Cleaning Windows To The Past

2011-06-15T09:18:00.001-07:00

I’ve been doing photo restorations for myself, friends and clients for several years now. Someone once wrote that photography, developed in the early 1800s, was a technology way ahead of its time. From Civil War battlefields to intimate wedding photos (like this one) a good photograph contains a wealth of detail and information. They’re also amazingly resilient, even when damaged. The key to restoration is taking the best areas of the image and using those shades and textures to rebuild on what’s been lost. Not a bad approach to life.

Recording Session 6/4/11 - Celso Alberti

2011-06-15T09:10:00.000-07:00

I’m very lucky to be friends with the distinguished Brazilian drummer/percussionist Celso Alberti. Celso is a brilliant musician with an extensive resume which includes tours with Steve Winwood, Airto Moreira, Flora Purim, Herbie Mann, Craig Chaquico, Neto Band, Andrei Kondakov, Joyce Cooling and many others. A rare talent, Celso is a virtuoso player with a producer’s ear. He listens to the big picture. And I’m thrilled to be recording with him on a new CD. Celso and I were in the studio this last weekend, with producer Noah Perry, where Celso recorded a number of hand percussion instruments, including the amazing pandeiro!

Recording Session - Guest Vocalists

2011-06-15T09:04:00.000-07:00

Having shaved 30 new songs down to baker’s dozen, the new CD is falling into place. The latest recording session was a real pleasure. Two members of the Piedmont East Bay Children's Choir, Tate and Reece Bissinger, sang harmonies on the new song “Bunk Beds”, which will also feature bassist Michael Manring and percussionist Celso Alberti.

Three Women One Dress

2011-05-03T10:56:00.000-07:00

More dangerous than Three Mile Island, more toxic than Chernobyl, and potentially more catastrophic than Fukushima, is the poison atmosphere of three women arriving to a party in the same dress. The radioactive looks will peg the needle of a Geiger counter, not to mention the razor sharpened finger nails, digging deep into boyfriend’s hands, or the raging rivers of mascara. But tonight was a false alarm. The screaming sirens I heard were not warnings to take shelter, but were the cheers of celebration. It was a girl’s night out. A summit of three gal pals had arrived to the bar in full runway mode. Leading the way was the birthday honoree, followed by her dress-coordinated entourage and their inebriated boy toys. With makeup at maximum strength, drinks refreshed, brassieres fully loaded, cigarettes ablaze, and air-kisses delivered, the trio granted me a photo op for which my camera was blessed.

The Camera Is The Seer (The Film Remembers)

2011-04-20T12:19:00.000-07:00

“Are you a professional photographer?”, the security guard asks me. This is the third member of the church cathedral uniform to ask me the same question. Professional, I assume means do I make my living with photography? I answer “No”. “What are you going to use it for?” he asks. “Personal” I say. “We have protocols.” he says politely, and walks away. The cathedral has a well regulated militia, and I have set up my camera within their jurisdiction. A week earlier, I had asked the receptionist on duty if photography was allowed inside the cathedral. “Oh yes, that’s no problem.” She had answered. So as with scripture, there are many answers to the same question.

The cathedral I am standing in is called Christ The Light. It was built in 2009 near where I work in Oakland. The giant steel and glass turret structure is 12 stories tall, sleek and modern. I had watched and heard its construction, rising from parking lot to the massive concrete complex. One afternoon last summer, I stepped inside to escape the heat, and was taken with the immense, beautiful and quiet space. After several visits, I experienced something else, an atmosphere of common courtesy. No cell phone yellers or boasting public chatter, piped in radio, hissing headphones, laptop tapping, or moonfaced heads bobbing in front of tiny glowing screens. Just rows of long, comfortable benches, with patrons standing or sitting quietly, some speaking softly to those next to them. Alone together in lunch hour heaven.

Common courtesy seems rare these days. Yet people will abide in the house of the almighty. Outside the cathedral, where God is apparently not looking, values get reinterpreted. As when for example, on my way home recently, a distracted BMW driver, and god fearing cell phone user, praised me with shouts and gestures after I changed lanes in ahead of him.

With my tripod secure, I faced the pinhole camera down the center aisle. There is no lens on a pinhole camera, just a tiny opening on the front, exactly 0.3mm wide. Light shines through the hole, and assembles an image, naturally, against the far side of the camera. The image is then captured on film. This miracle of nature is fundamentally how our eyes work.

Sunlight illuminates the cathedral hall. Streaming through the tinted glass above and between wood shades lining the tower, the light sparkles without glare. I take a meter reading, which indicates that my exposure should average 40 seconds. The light coming through the pinhole is so dim that the film must be exposed from between a few seconds to a few minutes. During the exposure, the camera and the subject must remain perfectly still. Objects or people moving within the image become either a blur or completely invisible. I open the shutter and count off, one . . . two . . . three. . The camera captures the church interior in a dynamic wide angle view. The patrolling securing guards disappear like ninja.

I move the camera to get several views inside the cathedral, including the two figures of Jesus. One as a giant projection of life on the far wall, and the other as a hovering statue of the dying martyr. I think respectful thoughts and count off, one . . two . . three. As the seconds pass, I reflect on the moment, and flash on the idea that something unseen and magical will appear in the photograph. With the film exposed, I pack up my gear and leave unnoticed.

What Happens in the Photo Booth Stays in the Photo Booth

2011-02-09T08:10:00.000-08:00

Recently, my favorite pub installed a working photo booth. Like an abandon space capsule, it rests in the northwest corner of the Lucky 13, next to the pool table, pin ball machines and ATM. On one particular night, I had been photographing a very animated pool game, when a young couple stepped past me and discreetly entered the photo booth. Closing the curtain behind them, they stood facing each other. There was a brief discussion. I’d like to think they simply kissed before gathering themselves in front of the camera. Once seated, the mechanical paparazzi went to work. Below the curtain, between each camera flash, the couple’s feet shuffled to new entangled positions.

What happens in the photo booth stays in the photo booth. Unless the evidence gets posted on Facebook, revealed to friends and family and on view for future spouses, children and employers. Part exhibition chamber, performance art space, changing room, mug shot generator, speed dater, pornographer, the Photo Booth offers the thrill of a semi-private photo session.

I had my first photo booth experience when I was 9. It was during a family St. Louis to Florida road trip. We visited Panama City, and one evening at a carnival, we came across a photo booth. The four of us took turns, with mixed results. For my photo op, making stupid faces was the best I came up with. My 7 year old brother, not yet hip to the whole concept, was at his innocent best. He sat quietly and smiled as each shot rolled off, resulting in a very Andy Warhol series of replications. My parents, perhaps at the height of their marriage, posed like two college kids, with big smiles and suggestive expressions. Years later, in another booth, I sat with my Tilda Swinton lookalike girlfriend as we theatrically groped and mugged for the camera. It was a brief moment in a relationship that, like many, thankfully predates the internet.

Meanwhile, back at the pub, the couple’s thirty seconds of glamour came to an end. The curtain drew back. Captured on film, the couple casually exited the photo booth with their freshly printed souvenir. Sitting at the bar, they hovered over the photos, smiling in the afterglow.

Carl Weingarten & Jeff Oster at the Y2KX Looping Music Festival

2011-02-08T08:24:00.000-08:00

This was the opening piece in my set with Jeff Oster at the Y2XK International Music Looping Festival in Santa Cruz. What started off as a rendition of Loop Light went in a more industrial direction, which usually isn’t the case with our music. The festival was outstanding, and was broadcast live over the internet. Thanks to guitarist Jim Goodin for his help on this video.

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Wright Brothers 1902 Photo Restoration

2011-02-01T08:42:00.000-08:00

On March 5th, I have a photo show opening at The Blue Dot Café in Alameda. All the prints will be poster size (24x36 & 24x30). Most will be new, original images, but a few will be historical photo restorations. I have a taste for vintage photography and the Library of Congress is a great source. But LoC’s main job is preserving and archiving, and not repairing. Many images appear to be scanned as is. I do a lot of photo touchup work, and some of these classic images are beautiful once they’re cleaned up. Here’s one (before and after) that I’ll have at the show – The Wright Brothers testing their glider in 1902.

The Bar Is Like High School

2011-01-11T12:16:00.000-08:00

You’ve heard the saying, “Life is like high school”. It’s all about who you know, who you hang with, who you don’t, how you look, what you wear, how you flirt, schmooze and basically get along with your peers. If you were successful in the above, you had a better time than I did.

However, if life is like high school, everyone gets a second chance. For late bloomers like me, this is good news. There’s no better place to get your adult GED than the popular local pub. All the drama that happened in high school, continues 21 and over. Think of it as study hall with alcohol. There are no teachers, but there are lessons. Girls have become women. They dress for attraction, knowing they may have to swat away a few flies. Boys have become men, and are measured by their charm to aggression ratio. Any and all behavior less than assault is fair game, and there isn’t much that doesn’t take place at a given time or undisclosed location. As in high school, the more outrageous and entertaining, the better. There are fewer body piercings but more tattoos than in high school. If tattoos could heal, there would be less of them as well. As in high school, attendance is mandatory. If you’ve been absent, a round of drinks will warm any cold shoulders. There’s no homework, but there are hangovers. Going home with someone is good for extra credit. No grades are given, but most patrons reflect on each evening as a pass/fail experience. Unlike high school, the bar has no official graduation. Life is transient. Patrons come and go. Some drop out after failing in Excess Management. Others are content, each night, to peel diplomas off bottles of beer. Eventually most take up residency elsewhere and continue their studies with new relationships, new jobs, cities or a new circle of friends.

A Dodge In Winter

2010-12-22T14:10:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid, my father bought our family’s first new car, a white 1966 Dodge Dart. The Dart was the Cadillac for the working class. However, never to indulge, my father purchased a model with only basic standard equipment, manual transmission, with no AC or radio. The only extra was a cigarette lighter, which my mother did her best to wear out. However, the car was plenty roomy for the four of us, and the smooth nap-inducing ride made it possible to tolerate our marathon vacation road trips. During those trips my father would drive with Zen like focus, while my mother sat next to him, simultaneously reading and conversing. In the back seat, my brother and I played games and waged endless sibling battles, often ending with my father’s backhand slashing over the front seat like a catapult. Thirteen years later, I took possession and the keys from my father and drove from St. Louis to college in Carbondale Illinois. Despite rust along the fenders, an oil burning engine, and mandatory weekly spark plug cleaning, the Dart was a reliable old friend. One Friday afternoon, during my senior year, I left town for spring break. Just after sunset, I passed through Nashville Illinois heading north. I was tired and anxious to get home. At the far end of town, I came up behind a van as we approached a railroad crossing. The warning lights were flashing at the intersection, but the van continued over the tracks, casually, without hesitation. In this life altering moment of weakness, I was just tired and distracted enough to believe it was safe to follow. From my perspective, the crossing gates had not lowered and there was no train was in sight. In reality, there were no crossing gates at all. There was also an unseen second set of tracks. On those tracks, just out of view, was an oncoming freight train. As my car reached the end of the intersection, with open road just a few feet away, I looked up to my left. Out of the darkness, the engine rolled up like the Titanic. I remember reacting, but nothing more. The train slammed into the back door of my Dodge Dart, kicking us, like a tin can, to the other side of the tracks. Several minutes later I woke up to the conductor yelling at me through a shattered window. The next day, my classmates Jean Kracher and Barbara Lang drove 50 miles from Carbondale to pick me up at the hospital. Dressed in my finest blood soaked sweater and jeans, we drove to the local tow yard where I collected my scattered belongings. Barbara took photos as I stood beside the remains of the family car. Rather than crumple beneath the locomotive, the Dart’s steel body had taken the hit, like a champ, staying in one piece as we spun around. That morning, I stood there, feeling like a crash test dummy on his luckiest day. Smiling through my stitches, I thought at least I’ll get some good pictures. I never saw the photos, but I’ve been blessed to see 30 years since the family car saved my life.

At Your Service

2010-12-10T11:45:00.000-08:00

I ran into this old acquaintance on Halloween. We use to hang out a lot. It was always a great time, but I never failed to get a hangover, run out of money, loose a job, or girlfriend, or find myself in some unfortunate situation. The last time I saw him was over a year ago. We’re driving to work, and some nut starts tailgating us down a side street. Suddenly the car roars past us, like the speed limit isn’t good enough for him. My friend says, “You gonna let him get away with that?” So I punch the gas and we race to a traffic light. It was red, so I made the stop, but the nut ran the light, leaving me behind all pissed off at 7:00am on a misty Monday morning. I flashed on a few consequences - accident, fistfight, injury, insurance, police and lawyers. So I say to my friend, “Dude, this isn’t how I want my day to go, alright? I’m dropping you off and you can ride with someone else after this.” My friend didn’t get upset or anything. He just shrugged it off and said no problem. So anyway, we chatted on Halloween. He’d had a good year apparently, with all his work paying off in the coming election. “Hearts and minds and Fox News,” he said proudly. Then he went on and on about the Tea party, his clients in the Senate and bla bla. By then I was losing interest, so he leaned close and whispered, “Evil is out, ignorance is in. It’s an easy sell.”

A Thousand Winks - Time Travel Made Easy

2010-10-28T11:24:00.000-07:00

Still photography captures a single perspective, slowing it down, infinitely, allowing us a microscopic view of the moment. Film and video record entire events, and they heighten our perception when these events are sped up or slowed by timelapse. Imagine a sky with clouds flowing like ocean waves, a thunderstorm sweeping across a city like a dust broom, or the single stroke of a Hummingbirds’ wings. As Einstein pointed out, time is relative. Perhaps the Earth is perpetually dizzy and the hummingbird is relaxing as she drinks from a flower.

When I was shooting Super 8 film as a teenager, I experimented with time-lapse photography. At summer camp, I thought it would be a good idea to film a sunrise. That morning, while the rest of the camp slept in their bunks, I stood on a hillside, in the morning mist, shivering and clicking off frame after frame, and wishing the sun would hurry the #%^! up. Back home that winter, I set up my camera, aiming it through a window to our back yard and my parents’ garden. Faithfully I clicked off two frames every day until the next summer. Then, for some reason, I never developed the roll. I had become distracted. My parents were in the process of a divorce, and I was about to graduate high school and go off to college. Time was moving too fast.

Recently, I’ve been inspired me to give timelapse another try. Stock media services have become big business online, and are a great source of ideas and inspiration. In the stock media world, timelapse is king. HD video is common now, (with automatic cameras, yea!) and videographers are capturing amazing cityscapes and natural vistas like never before. I’ve begun building my own portfolio of stock footage and images to use in music videos. Here’s a recent clip. From my friends’ office overlooking downtown Oakland, the camera faces west toward San Francisco for a busy 24 hours.

"Live At The Lucky 13"

2010-09-08T11:03:00.000-07:00

Recorded after hours at the legendary Lucky 13 bar in Alameda, California. Thanks to the L13 management and staff and second camera, Charlene Bissinger.

“Thirteen Blues”
Carl Weingarten – slide guitar, looping
Live at The Lucky 13, Alameda, California

GUITAROSPHERES Video Series – “New music in unusual spaces.”

The Ambient Jazz Quartet

2010-07-22T08:00:00.000-07:00

Jeff Oster (trumpet), Michael Manring (bass), Dave DiLullo (percussion) and I did a show at The New Zealander, Alameda in early July. We played to a full house, and have been asked to return in September. The two hour set is condensed to a steady 10 minute flow of improvised ambient jazz.

"Loop Light"

2010-07-14T11:42:00.000-07:00

This is the first in a series of music videos aimed at presenting new music in unusual spaces. “Loop Light” is a piece for slide guitar and loop pedals, recorded in the sanctuary at FCCA in Alameda earlier this month. The acoustics were excellent, thanks to the wood floors and curved interior of this vintage 1904 church.

I Got Your Ring Right Here

2010-07-01T09:24:00.001-07:00

When going on a date, it’s always important to notice what your companion is wearing. If you don’t, you’ll miss out, and she will notice that you’re missing out. If she happens to introduce you to several of her close friends, it’s important to notice what they are wearing as well. This is a lot of noticing for me to keep up with, which is one of the reasons I became a photographer, and thus carry a camera with me to all events where I might notice things, and would like to remember them later. On this occasion the closest of my date’s close friends was wearing a ring. This ring was hard, if not impossible, not to notice. It was large, even at a polite distance. After my polite noticing, our friend brought her ring up to my camera lens at kung fu speed, though thankfully coming to a safe stop at a close viewing distance, where my camera took notice.

The Gallery Gig

2010-05-31T19:36:00.000-07:00

"The Gallery Gig" Video

Jeff Oster - trumpet, flugelhorn, looping
Carl Weingarten - slide guitar, looping

"Pipewinds" Video from Dreaming In Colors

2010-05-09T19:23:00.000-07:00

Since reissuing Dreaming In Colors in February, the CD is making its way onto radio, and distribution through CDbaby, Amazon and iTunes. When the LP version was originally released in 1985, "Mermaid" was the popular tune. This time it's "Pipewinds" that's catching the downloads. The song features Walter Whitney's classic analog synth orchestration, toe tapping groove, and ethereal space-flute melody. This new video production includes new original footage, plus brilliant animation by David Baumber.

Recording Session with Michael Manring and Celso Alberti

2010-04-25T16:02:00.000-07:00

I recently dreamed up a trio music project, and invited two of my favorite musicians to record - bass guitar maestro Michael Manring and Brazilian percussionist Celso Alberti. The two very busy working musicians, graciously accepted my invitation upon hearing several demos I’d produced.

After the usual cat herding, our schedules came together and we all arrived at Noah Perry’s Merritt Sound Studio on April 19.

The full day session went even better than expected, with the live bass, drums and looping guitar, shaping into an exciting new recording. Release is a few months away, but we'll be posting tracks in progress. --Carl

Download/Play this 3 minute MP3 excerpt of "BlueScapes"

Bone Dog Blues ( video)

2010-04-21T08:25:00.000-07:00

"Bone Dog Blues" is on both escapesilence (2002) and the Hand In The Sand Compilation (2004). The song received good airplay, including NPR’s All Thing Considered, and the CD also came in at number one on that year’s Echoes Radio Listener’s Choice Poll. The tune is a straight ahead instrumental, and the theme, featuring Brian Knave’s excellent harmonica, is up tempo and cinematic. Enjoy.

Check out the following video I just produced, a concert performance by singer percussionist David Dilullo and singer Nadine Risha.

Alameda On Camera 2010

2010-04-06T09:05:00.000-07:00

During the last weekend of February 2010, The Frank Bette Center hosted the annual Alameda On Camera photography event. 48 bay area photographers, me included, were given 48 hours to take pictures within an assigned 48th slice of the Alameda map. I was given the north eastern tip of the island, which includes Lincoln Park and the High Street Bridge.

There are few better motivators than a deadline. The advantage of photographing where I live is knowing the territory. This is also the disadvantage. How to make fresh the commonplace?

I approached this challenge in the following ways:

1. Find the most unfamiliar (to me) locations in subject area
2. Be there during the most dramatic light – morning, evening
3. Don’t plan the shoot other than what gear to bring
4. Shoot with multiple cameras – digital, film and pinhole
5. Stay for a while and take in the scene, like a movie
6. Give chance a chance

The above helped me to capture several great images in different styles. However, the final inspiration came from a familiar subject – the weather. It rained that weekend. The alternating sun and rolling storm clouds gave me ever changing views, filling the frame and broadening the perspective of each subject.

The Alameda Camera show opening was Friday April 2. The house was packed and of the awards given, my black and white photo Steel Cathedral won Best Classic Photo. Three additional photos I submitted are also on display through the end of April - Bike Night, Lightning Survivor and the panoramic pinhole, The Guardian.

Dreaming In Colors

2010-03-01T09:03:00.000-08:00

Among the few thousand independent LPs that made their way into record stores during the mid 1980s was an electronic music recording I produced with my friend and keyboard wizard Walter Whitney. Dreaming In Colors was
the fifth, and last, vinyl LP released on Multiphase Records. The music received good reviews, including from
critic Dean Suzuki, writing for Option Magazine, described the album’s guitar and electronic landscapes as, ”smart
and well-crafted . . . fabric of elegant sound”.

However, within months, Dreaming In Colors sold out, as did our main distributors, NMDS and GEM in New York. They went Chapter 11, pocketed our receipts and disappeared with what inventory they had left. With no income from sales, Dreaming In Colors went out of print. Only 1000 copies were pressed.

Despite its short run, Dreaming In Colors continued a life of its own. Over the years the music has appeared on radio, internet broadcasts, record auctions, news groups, and music blogs.

Walter and I have kept in touch, and we even released a second recording, Primitive Earth (CD1989), which is still available. Last year I retrieved and listened to the master tapes of Dreaming In Colors, and was inspired to release the music on CD. I sent a copy to Walt, who in turn mailed me a disc of orphaned songs that we hadn’t used (due to vinyl time limits) on the original release. Teaming up with producer Noah Perry, we spent several weeks remastering the analog tapes to 24bit digital. With the new material added to the lineup, the CD now includes all the tracks produced for the original album.

Finally, the reissue also features a gift from writer/producer Dean Suzuki of KPFA-FM. Upon hearing a demo, Dean graciously agreed to write a new set of liner notes, which follows up his original 1986 OP Magazine review.

Dreaming In Colors is now available direct from Multiphase Records, or on CD and MP3 from CDbaby and Amazon.

Pinhole Photography

2010-02-13T18:52:00.000-08:00

I don’t know what it is about low-tech, but I’m there. It’s often the beginnings of an artists work, or trend in technology and culture that are more interesting to me than the periods that followed. There’s beauty in the basics. Case in point - Pinhole Photography. It’s just a hole in a box, but add camera and film technology, and a creative world opens up.

Pinhole photography is more versatile than ever. An array of cameras have been produced over the years, but recently a new generation of artists have emerged, pushing the genre forward with their own vision and new custom built designs. - see Flickr. Still, the art centers on its essential and beautiful concept - forever mysterious, Nature’s Eye shapes untamed light into renderings of the physical world.

The attached photos are the first in a new series of pinhole images I’ve been working on for several months. “Alameda Under Rain” is a one minute exposure made with a Holga 120 Panoramic Pinhole, as were “Cathedral, Oakland” and "Three Ships".

Super 8 Movies

2010-01-27T11:35:00.000-08:00

For about 10 years, between junior high through college, my career goal was to be a filmmaker. When I was 7 my father gave me a still camera for Christmas, which began training my eye, and took pictures from time to time with whatever film I could afford. At 13, my mother gave me a Super 8 movie camera, and it was destiny from there. During this early geek life I produced about 50 short Super 8mm movies, many with sound. I tried every genre from clay animation to comedies and documentaries, usually with my friends and family as subjects or reluctant cast members. In high school, I entered the national Kodak Teenage Movie Awards, and won two honorable mentions. However, that would be my highest climb up the film business food chain.

After college, I began producing music, which had opened as the next independent frontier. By that time, my films had gone into storage, and I kept them as anyone keeps their family pictures. They were part of another life.

Recently, after 30 years, I retrieved these films out of storage. I wanted to see if that unfinished life had anything to tell me now. Like a box of old love letters, I hesitated with mixed emotions at looking back. So why was I holding on to them? As I made my way through the stacks of reels, I remembered most of the films, but some were surprising. One such relic was a 10 minute movie called “The Fair”. I had shot the footage one day during my summer break in 1978. My home town of University City held a street festival, and in true experimental film-school mode, I captured the event with a micro lens, filming faces and objects in tight close-up, with blurry waves of people, double exposures, and crowds moving in slow motion. All the effects were done in the camera, a Fuji Single 8mm that allowed me to rewind the film, make fades, overlap, shoot high speed, etc. There was no soundtrack, but I had apparently spent time editing the film, and probably stopped when school started that fall.

Nothing plagues the artist quite like unfinished work. However, 30 years is plenty of time to make a fresh start. This look back gave me some inspiration. I transferred the footage to video and began a new round of editing. The more I studied the film, the more it clicked what I was attempting. Most of the original cuts were fine, and I didn’t want to remake the entire project. Instead it was really about finishing what had been started. I added a soundtrack, a loop-guitar piece called “Panomorphia” recorded this last year, and it all came together. Whatever meaning I was originally trying to convey, the old film and new music bridged two unfinished lives.

2010-01-06T14:53:00.000-08:00

Host:	Jeff Oster
Type:	Music/Arts - Performance
Network:	Global

Date:	Thursday, January 7, 2010
Time:	8:00pm - 11:00pm
Location:	McGrath's
Street:	1539 Lincoln Ave
City/Town:	Alameda, CA

The Blue Season

2009-12-21T12:46:00.000-08:00

Fall is the most underrated season. The Summer heat has finally peaked out, and the weather becomes dynamic. Clouds and robust thunderheads gather like premonitions. The wind is both hot and cool, full of woody smells, and brisk enough to make a jacket feel cozy.

It’s time to reflect and perhaps tie up some lose ends. There’s a sense of letting go with the year winding down, but with the holidays still ahead.

Compared to the east, California Falls are not much of a season: more like a damp slide into winter. I live in Alameda, which is technically an island a few hundreds yards off the coast of Oakland. It’s one of the oldest communities in the bay area and until recently had resisted development for many years. As a result, the houses are old and the trees are big. In fact, they’re among the largest urban trees anywhere.

This Fall there was a window of about two weeks that had a very east of the Rockies feel to it. The leaves had turned in clusters, and we had a few days of bright sun and cool air. It was about as fall as it was going to get. With coffee and camera, I took to the trees.

Jerry at Peace

2009-11-27T18:13:00.000-08:00

This photo was taken at the memorial service for the heavyweight boxer Jerry Quarry. I was there as a guest

of the Quarry family, having become friends with Jerry’s older brother James, who hired me to develop The Jerry Quarry Foundation web site.

When I was growing up, Irish Jerry Quarry was one of my heroes. He competed in a field of brilliant fighters that included Muhammad Ali, Joe Frazier, Ken Norton, Earnie Shavers, Ron Lyle, Jimmy Ellis, George Foreman and others, during one of the sport’s best and most competitive eras. Among the most popular boxers of the day, Jerry was a smart, classy fighter and a dangerous counter puncher with a granite chin.

For all his talent however, Jerry was also an insecure, erratic, and at times foolhardy competitor, who lacked the training discipline to back up the risks he took in the ring. A crowd pleaser with a tragic personal life, Jerry never won the world championship, but during his prime, he lost only to the best. When George Foreman returned to boxing and regained a world championship at the age of 45, Jerry attempted his own comeback. His last fight, in 1992, left him impaired with the onset of Alzheimer’s.

I never got to meet Jerry. By the time I was involved, he was too ill to carry on a conversation. He died in 1999. The funeral was a certified celebrity and media event. I met a number of Jerry’s old foes, who had long since bonded as friends, including Mac Foster and Joey Orbillo, as well as the actor-boxer Mickey Rourke, whom Jerry helped train.

After the service, I stayed behind. As the guests filed out, I was struck by the tranquility of the scene, and took this photo. In it, you can see the many flowers as well as stacks of Coca-cola, Jerry’s favorite drink, and the shamrock wreath entitled “Champ”, sent by Muhammad Ali.

Live with Jeff Oster's Band

2009-11-14T11:24:00.000-08:00

Over the last year I've been playing out more than ever. It's a good thing for me, as I was all but ready to pack away my studio, pedals and guitar for good. Thanks to encouragement from friends like trumpet virtuoso Jeff Oster, bass-master Michael Manring and producer Noah Perry, I realized my disenchantment was with the business of music and not the experience of music.

For the first time since Delay Tactics (my 1980s studio group), I've enjoyed playing in a band. I've had a long career as a solo artist, but for now the group setting offers the same level of satisfaction without the heavy shoulders. I've spent 30 years developing my guitar style, and it's gratifying to offer just what I do best.

This video features Jeff Oster, Michael Manring, Dave Dilullo, Kelly Park and myself at The Shedd Theater in Eugene on September 3rd.

Aquarium Earth

2009-11-12T19:57:00.001-08:00

Most of my photography is inspired simply by what's in front of me. Scenes are either stumbled upon, or familiar places with a changing cast of characters. If I'm lucky enough to capture the moment, the print becomes my witness.

Then there's the extended spontaneity of photo design, where Photoshop has become my second camera. Aquarium Earth began with a photo I shot during my visit to the Monterey Aquarium this last summer with my father. It was my first time there. My Canon G10 struggled under the low light of the big marine tanks and the sharks refused to pose for me, so I focused instead on the entranced people hovering at the glass. It struck me that the fish were as much out of their element as were the people watching in the darkness. Everyone was in outer space.

Aquarium Earth and two other new photos (Lucky Stars and Opening Night) are on display in the "Starstruck" exhibit at The Frank Bette Center for The Arts, Alameda, California through the end of December.