MULTIPLE EXPOSURE
In September of 1978, I started at the School of Visual Arts. I set my major as photography, which just seemed natural. I had a lot of fun with the program except that my main photography professor, Alice Beck-Odette, didn’t like what I was doing. She didn’t feel the photographs I was taking were “real” or “good” or “valid,” and it was very unnerving.
I was shooting photos of shows at CBGB’s, Max’s Kansas City, The Bottom Line, the Palladium, as well as all the downtown dive bars where bands would perform. Many of the images were unexpected, and surprising. I started developing my own photographs in the darkroom and it felt like the pictures I was creating were very powerful, but the SVA faculty disagreed. I only stayed there for a year.
In the summer of 1979, my friend Roseanne Fontana introduced me to a guitar player—her friend Mitch from Elmont, New York. Roseanne knew I wanted to start a band and thought Mitch and I would get along. Mitch introduced me to a bunch of his friends—Tommy, Irwin and Johnny—and we started rehearsing in his living room.
I became the lead singer and Mitch was the guitar player. We got a set of cover songs together from “My Sharona” to “Pump it Up” to “Wild Horses,” and we called ourselves Multiple Exposure. We played all over Long Island, at bars like The Empty Can and The Winner’s Circle. We also wrote songs together and had a great time.
We usually opened our set with the song “Palisades Park,” which I started using after seeing Blondie perform it. I wrote the lyrics for a bunch of our own songs as well. The band only lasted about six months, though. It wasn’t a devastating end; it just petered out.
I then started performing on my own. I had been following the works of Gil Scott Heron, Patti Smith, The Last Poets, John Rechy and James Purdy from a very young age. They gave me the inspiration to write on my own. I decided to perform my words live and booked some poetry shows. I titled it Scatterbrain and performed around the city at places like the Savoy, Peppermint Lounge, Youthanasia (the Androgyny Party), The Ritz, and CBGB’s.
Cocaine and gardenias = fame
Hollyweed. Hollywood at the time.
Platinum blonde behind ebon shades.
A little girl weeps hysterically.
A woman cries for love, security, desire and fear of madness.
The ocean was her best friend. (So was champagne)
The freedom to drift with the sea and the sands
Gave her great pleasure.
You had an affair with the camera.
Being so greatly loved, sometimes worried you.
You always gave your all, even though you thought
It wasn’t enough.
Gosh. I love you.
Damn, we need you
The photos are embedded in my brain.
Hey Marilyn, something’s got to give.1
While I continued performing live, I was working in the Shipping & Receiving department at the District 65 Pharmacy on Astor Place, where I had started about six months previously. One Saturday, when I was visiting my dad at his office, I went for a walk down East 11th Street, and I happened to notice a sign on a nearby building that read, “Video Club Opening Résumés Being Accepted.” I wondered what in the world that could be. What was a video club?