Recording Session 6/4/11 - Celso Alberti

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

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

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)

“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

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

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.

Wright Brothers 1902 Photo Restoration

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

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

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

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

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"

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

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"

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

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

"The Gallery Gig" Video

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

"Pipewinds" Video from Dreaming In Colors

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

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)

"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

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.