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The Final Draft of Shawn Mortensen

Shawn Mortensen, the visionary photographer who captured countless iconic images of artists, celebrities and musicians, died this week.

I had the distinct pleasure of meeting Shawn when I worked at Flaunt Magazine. He came into our office to talk about shooting for our 90’s issue. As he leaned against the wall in the art department he began to tell me about his life. He told me about photographing Snoop Dogg at 19, meeting a young Beck, and introducing Rage Against the Machine to the Zapatistas, who he met in Chiapas, Mexico. Mortensen looked fucking cool as he leaned in the corner near the layout wall, chatting with Todd, the art director.  He was tall with a pin-striped business shirt opened slightly, a necklace of what appeared to be a silver dragon’s tooth dangled loosely.  His sensible leather dress shoes had no laces, and later he confessed he got them from some designer for free. He quoted Dolly Parton, “some people pay a lot of money to look this cheap.” But Mortensen did not look cheap, he had the hands callused with experience, and a salt and pepper beard just starting to grow on his face. I was engrossed in his casual eloquence, confident gesticulations and peripatetic gray eyes as he painted a picture of being a “cross pollinator of creativity” in the 1990’s.

Twenty minutes later, I was leaning against the wall, as Shawn’s story tied up. We asked him if he wanted to share his story on the pages of Flaunt and he agreed. He asked me what he should say. I told him, “Just tell me everything.” From his sporadic ideas, I figured I could whittle down his piece to about 200 words and get some captions for photographs.

At exactly 1:45 a.m. on a Friday morning, I got my first email from Shawn.  The subject read: ” title: Movements in the Blink of an Eye.” When I woke up at eight, I had gotten two more from him, one from 2:29 a.m. and the other at 3:39 a.m.  There were more to come, and by Monday afternoon, his final email would become 22 pages fragmented text, arbitrary punctuation, sentence fragments, open-faced notes to himself, and moments of beautiful clarity.

We gave his text a huge spread in Flaunt Issue 88, and I spent hours with his words, editing and making sense of his sprawling, freeform life. This was in 2007, but I knew Shawn was giving me an obituary, a living epitaph that he wrote himself, patching together his life quilt and sewing up his incredible experiences.

What follows is Shawn’s original text, which he sent me over that series of days in 2007. I’ve preserved his typos and formatting, hoping that–like the Bukowski quote he opens with–his own avalanche of words and ideas could be a poem of its own.

This is his final draft.

Shawn, you will be missed.

-Drew Tewksbury

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Movements in the Blink of an Eye

THE LAST SHOT

here we are, once again, the last drink, the last
poem– decades of this splendid luck– another drunken
a.m., and not on the drunktank floor tonight waiting for
the black pimp to get off the phone so i can put through my one
allowed call (so many of those a.m.s too) it took
me a long time to find the most interesting person to
drink with; myself, like this, now reaching to my left
for the last glass of the Blood of the
Lamb.
-Charles Bukowski

FRIDAYS 11p.m. - 4 a.m.
660 Heliotrope (at Melrose)
On the reverse was a Xeroxed close-up image of a hand with a skull ring, a cigarette, & a mug of beer -Keith Richard’s hands to be precise.

This would be the innocuous begining invitation to an underground arty party for the wildest sides L.A. had to offer in’88- ‘89. I was an Art Student at U.S.C. & was looking to create what Joseph Beuys called ‘Social Sculpture’. Egalitarian to the extreme, my crew & I pulled in the most ecclectic crowd since the Star Wars Cantina- MIXED of Club Kids-Artists; Keith Haring,Jean-Michel Basquiat, Koivisto, HAZE, Fab5Freddy, DOZE - musicians; Public Image Ltd.,Beastie Boys, Fishbone, Joe Strummer, Keith Richards, Wasted Youth, Ice T, Flavor Flav, Chilli Peppers, Brat Pack Actors like Rob Lowe {the week of his sex scandle},Matt Dillon, River Phoenix, Mickey Rourke,Ione Skye, NYC Club Scene makers; Eric Goode, Serge Becker, Haoui Montaug, James St.James, Bruce Weber & Herb Ritts Models; Tony Ward, Lisa RosanaDetail’s NightLife Columnist Stephan Saban, Tim Kelly, Club Kids, Punks, Vatos, Gang Bangers, Drag Queens, Rap Crews YOUFUCKING NAME IT . . . AND the MOST AGGRESSIVE MUSIC {N.W.A. was new,punk, rap, funk, disco} ALL in One … One on One … Never too much of ONE thing, nor of ONE crowd AND ALWAYS ON THE MOVE .

People came to DANCE & PARTY rather than to be seen. Each equal to the next. Stars OR stripes, EVERYONE given the same shake. Mostly we’d rent old playhouses & it was by word of mouth. By the time we got RAIDED, I was told LAST SHOT was Public Enemy #1 on the L.A.Vice Squad hit  list …kinda dumb considering it was literally Technique turn tables, kegs of beer, & a low key “speakeasy”vibe…

but we were HOT in the press.  Typically staff would quit ‘cos I’d let everyone in FREE. Not a den of
iniquity, but rather a no man’s land where people had a laugh. It was sexy. You could hook up, make out & contrary to our “shooting imagery” on flyers - we never had a fight. We even threw my 23rd birthday party in the LA River under the 6th Street bridge…

push came to shove we lost our spot, BUT THE SHOW MUST GO ON ! Mixing with so many different people consistently definately gave me the confidence to venture out in my later artwork.

It was at these end of the line parties that I started making Polaroids for fun. To document the diversiy , the verve & the mayhem of someone driving thru the hall on a motorbike - or the complete dynamism of ALL these dispargent people ‘getting along’. I was heavy into Art & Film History in university. I most admired the ZEITGEIST SURFERS like Alfred Steiglitz, Robert Frank, Andy Warhol, & Dick Avedon. Somehow it seemed funny to me being taught in school that Steiglitz fought for photography to be recognized as art in the early 20th century & now the U.S. Government were engaging in the Culture Wars against the N.E.A. & their funding of photo based artworks of Mapplethorpe, Serrano, Wojnarowicz & more.

Not only was the government declaring WAR on American Art, but everywhere were signs that THE PARTY WAS OVER … or more disturbing THESE PHOTOS WERE ABOUT PEOPLE WHO WERE DYING . A.I.D.S. hit nightlife & art like a hurricane. Poignantly, my 1st night out to celebrate my move to NYC I hit Eric Goode’s club M.K . . I saw about every artist & scenemaker I’d wanna met in NYC, but it took some time to realize the club was having a memorial that night for Cookie Meuller who’d died of A.I.D.S. .

I’d dreamed of the Warhol New York, but with Andy gone it was like someone stole the Disco Ball & the electricity from the party. My friend Keith Haring died at the start of the decade. Man - IT WAS LIKE A DIRGE & the Government was being run by IDIOTS unwilling to address the obvious. Pretty soon we’d be marching into some dumb WAR that looked like a Mini-Series on CNN with FLASHING GRAPHICS, but what about the dead at home ?! To be 24 years old & have peers dying seemed hard to fathom. I began my journey of finding my art first assisting people who worked at Warhol’s Factory & doing some working part-time for a leader of Act-Up. Even the tempo of the Art World became like a DIRGE. Riding my bike around NYC, I’d be mezmerized by the profound, melancholy & brilliantly concise billboard art installations of Felix-Gonzales Torres; a billboard of an empty unmade bed above Sheridan Square or in Chelsea’s former glory holes.

Keith Haring murals confronting the crack cocaine epidemic or in the clubs like some hyroglyphs of an ancient culture, but I was smoking a joint with him just 6 months ago at Last Shot. The lighting bolts of brilliant clarity charging from the mouth of David Wojnarowicz. Time was URGENT & fleeting. Each day seemed precious & the ordinary privations of being a struggling young artist were beyond a fear about rent, or your next meal, but of who would be next to get sick or conversely to sink into the gaping despair of drugs that made the Lower East Side seem like the Grand Canyon. This side of the divide is heroin, that side is all crack. The most infuriating display in this battlezone was the blatant gentrification & Tompkin’s Square Park blazed.

In the streets you’d hear jeeps blaring Public Enemy’s Fight The Power or KRS1’s My Philosophy. The Eighties were OVER. Time to do SOMETHING, say SOMETHING, mean SOMETHING … it was no longer about fight for your right to party. So many young men & women of all colors were dying IT WAS CRAZY, As an artist I wanted to encounter & portray  the great minds of my time,but they seemed to be dying as fast as they could be sold.

A famous British art dealer cornered me in my boss’ studio. He knew my circle of friends were close to Jean-Michel & Keith and he put considerable pressure on to elist me in prying by buying the work from a coterie of people with romantic affiliations with them. Gave me the creeps ! It was about that time that I realized the New York I was in was out of my means.

SO I decided to hit the road . Do the couch tour of college friends while building my first portfolio.
Everywhere you looked & each distant echo seemed to point to a polar shift or a fissure.

I barley had a portfolio half filled with prints, but I made a pact with myself - over a stable home - or
even staedy meals - I was gonna GO FOR IT - blow what little cash I had left & make my way back to LA for a summer. Save & then find my footing out in the greater world.

In the early Nineties, musically, the most DANGEROUS band in America was N.W.A . . In 1991 the rumor was that they were splitting too. Everything on the radio you’d hear were “hair bands” or Oldies.
Then I got a call from an old college friend who was now editing the Source magazine. Ice Cube had quit N.W.A. & was going solo. He needed someone to photograph him for the cover. Would I be down ?
HELL YEAH was my reply ! No only my 1st assignment, but A COVER & CUBE ?!! He was THE voice of rage outta N.W.A. . My Mom had spent part of her early childhood in Compton not far from where I’d come to meet Cube, the Lynch Mob & a fellow U.S.C. grad  director John Singleton . It’s an attarctive looking area of palm trees & ’50’s homes. New York editors would always be mad that I’d broughta rapper to a suburb. The legendary violence comes at night. SO in a way it was like getting my 1st shot with the home team’s heavy hitter. Not only was Cube dropping an album, but was staring in a film, “Boyz”N The Hood”. When 1st being introduced to Cube he gave me a skeptical look & asked,  ” Are you shooting this for Elle or VOGUE or something?”. I said no, that I was a contributor to the Source. Cube’s response was curt & to the point, ‘Good, ‘cos to Elle or VOGUE I say 5 minutes!’.

Beyond my friends that worked at Def Jam or doing clubs in NYC - hip hop or RAP as it was on the West Coast was a grass roots phenomina. It was like a Mom & Pop shop. Two years later, again on assignment for the Source I met up with Tupac Shakur after making arrangements with his Mother & manager Afeni Shakur. As for my work, well to put it bluntly, no one else seemed that interested in taking photos of the rappers although mainstream media loved to cover any perceived menace to society or whip up hysteria. I was stunned that here artists like N.W.A. were selling as many millions as Guns-N-Roses, yet no one wanted near them. Even the record companies reps would not turn up for a shoot.

MY approach towards these artists were as if I were working with Bob Dylan or any other folk artists.
Having grown up with hip hop & punk rock, I saw little to no difference. I was determind to create imagery as thought provoking, confrontational & as authentic as their words. As the artists & even the genre was just emerging, Ihad room to be bold. The artists liked the ideas of creating something realistic, memorable, or even cinematic. That being said, these dudes were under considerable scrutiny from the FBI, LAPD, & the Media.

My intial portraits of Ice Cube, Dr.Dre, Snoop & Tupac would be as inspired by my academic education as much as my imagination.

I had these ideas of historical portraiture, where an individual can define a mood in the culture or
movement.

I have a great passion for reggae music & decided to pursue my first in depth reportage or photo-essay effort in the projects of Kingston Jamaica. It was a seminal time in the music & would later greatly influence American Pop tatste. the home-spun fashion
there is astonishing.

WHen I returned to America Nirvana were set to release NEVERMIND. Although an avid fan of indie rock, I was blown away by the power & songs of the album . It was obvious that a youthquake was gonna be imminnet ! It later became an alsmost comic common occurence when working in paris documenting Fashion week. Editors would approach me as if I was stepping off a podium; why is your hair long ? I LOVE the ripped denim ! What IS ‘GRUNGE’?? To see it immitated  in American VOGUE was almost too odd as to be CREEPY. The one refreshing element of that fashion hysteria was the elevation of a charming young model I’d met in LA named Kate Moss.

She was so AGAINST TYPE & it’s almost hard to describe HOW her elevation really shattered a certain physical ideal to that time.

Around this time a group of my friends & I began to collaborate on what would become Comedy Central’s 1st TV SHOW called HIGH OCTANE. The idea was a sorta SOOPED UP ride through pop culture with a dry humor & an inside joke. Sofia Coppola & Zoey Cassavettes were the hosts driving a red pontiac GTO & interviewing Keanu Reeves , Naomi Cambell & driving monster trucks.
spike Jonze , Roman Coppola,Dewey Nicks & I Directed segements. I also played a kind of punk rock cub reporter flung unto the fashion week whirlwind in pursuit of my actual former mechanic Model Jenny Schimizu. I later made absurd interviews with Karl Lagerfeld, Andre Leon Talley, Beck & The Supermodels.

It was my 1st shot at direting & I had a laugh doing it … even dropped the camera mid-interview as a
result.
The great spirit of that mid-Ninties moment was just a sense of A TOTAL CHANGING of the GUARD. Nirivana’s videos got funnier as their fame got meteoric. Designers like John Galiano, Helmut Lang, Martin Margiela & Marc Jacobs seemed to have arrived & were there to stay … even if it seemed a bit silly to see Naomi in a thrift store looking sude jacket & beanie
just moments after  Versace GLAMAZONIA.

My work has always been inspired by the future & the point many people seem to miss is the future is happening NOW. It’s easy to poke fun a fashion as it’s ever changing. My interest is in what it’s themes or trends are communicating about culture, class, & as is most important to broadening of ethnic representation & progress away from  a INSANE body tyrrany. Let me state the obvious here - altho’ I rarely employ retouching  in my work - it would astound MEN as well as WOMEN the degree to which event so called “fitness”mags EXTENSIVELY RETOUCH their subjects ! WHY create a HOW TO guide on fitness at all then. OK, maybe fitness mags could employ some spce to home retouching for holiday snaps.

I travel & consider the growth of Globalization a defining element to my work. To hear people rave about Biggie in Nigeria. Hearing Tupac out of a city bus in South Africa or to even discover a massive audience for hip hop in Mongolia is astonishing. People cringe at this reference, but it’s representative - Paris Hilton is GLOBAL-A-GA-GA !

She’s a huge phenominon. She has my sympathy. The more they attack her, the more I like her. The kinda disorientating barometer of this decade is the celebrity degrees of non-seperation. Somehow they start to morph into each other. The truly funny is how parking lot & shopping trip paparazzi are THE BLOOD of the Fashion Industry.

My next thought is then - how does that help or hinder jobs & developement in Jamaica or Malaysia or Mexico.

Many of the casual or streetwear styles I documented throughout my work have become a comepletely global phenominon. You can exit a cab at random in New York, London or Hong Kong & discover kids wearing the same shoe, hat, clothing brand & rocking to the same rhythm. AMAZING. Although my human rights work has looked to the shadow of globalization on poverty & developement, my hope is the growth on an interrelated prosperity.

The Nineties also launched the SMEAR of SWEATSHOP LABOR. Kathy Lee Gifford ? Imitation of Christ ? Imitation of Imitation of Christ ? All fashionista parodies aside, WHO DO WE ELECT TO define FairTrade? WHen do we concede to the big conceit in our back yard?

Who defines the standards ? This question of AUTHORITY is our contemporary challenge. WHO is the AUTHORITY on Global Human Rights ? HOW reliable are our AUTHORITIES? WHEN do we claim our own AUTHORITY over the critics, over the legislature, over the church ?

Perhaps this idea of AUTHORITY is why marketers & industry are again BOWING to the VOX POPULI of WORD of MOUTH.

-Shawn Mortensen 2008
Photos by Shawn Mortensen

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© 2009 Drew Tewksbury: Multimedia Journalist.