Laurie's Life (photos):  PART 1

ART PEPPER: (Circa 1956) CLICK TO SEE AND HEAR

Mugshot: my father (circa 1927)

Mugshot: Art (circa 1957) Click to see part of his prison career.

My father with his first wife: Esther O'Callahan

Grandfather, Abram Babitz, Grandmother, Lyuba

Tante Vera, My grandmother's sister

Uncle Sol and my mom, Tidy (circa 1921?)

On Tour with Martha Graham (mid 1930s)

My mother and with Graham group (she's on the right)

ME (1941)

My stepfather, Dick Fraser

I was the only boarder at the day nursery (1944)

Art as a baby (circa 1926) CLICK TO PLAY: Art reminisces in prison about his childhood. Song "Lost Life"

My mother in New York (circa 1946)

With my stepfather, Dick Fraser

THE FIRST THING I EVER LOVED (besides my mother and food): "Jazz Band" from The Young People's Record Club. At the age of 7, I wore this 78 record out on my windup victrola dropping the needle over and over and over on this part where the music began. Youtube still photo with sound. Narrator is Jeffrey Canada.

Great Music from the SWP (and CP) Playlist. I grew up singing this… and… see next pages. This is "The Peat Bog Soldiers"

I loved the drama of this one from the Spanish Civil War. We sang it in English and Spanish. The Four Insurgent Generals.

The Internationale: The words, "the International Soviet" were not sung in the version I grew up with in the SWP. We sang, "The International Party." I was unaware that the Trotsky my parents worshiped was as bloodthirsty as that murdering bastard, Stalin. But the chorus of this song still gives me chills. A powerful song.

I sang myself to sleep with this one. My favorite. Isn't Robeson magnificent?

Working Class Art vs Bourgeois Art. My love for the latter was condemned by my stepfather.

My cousin, Eve Babitz, Igor Stravinsky, my little cousin, Miriam

Me at 16. In a few months I would marry Gary, the antisemitic, wifebeating cat-torturer. Sorry, no pictures of him.

Barrett & I hitchhiked for six months, all over Europe. I wanted to get pregnant and finally did, not here; I didn't like Florence. Maggie was conceived in Rome.

Maggie with me, and below, with my mom

I promised I would never leave her.

My cousin, Eve Babitz, Igor Stravinsky, my little cousin, Miriam

My cousin, Eve, photo taken and hand colored by me in 1967. She went to every party in the world.

Self portrait, me, 1967, with poster of Derek Taylor behind me, taken in a mirror at Evie's house. Also, newspaper photo of Derek at a press conference.

This is a REAL press pass. I shot demonstrations, rock concerts, museum exhibits for the legendary L.A. Free Press (I took the ID picture in a photo booth).

Part of a beat-up album cover, Noel Harrison. I shot, printed, sepia-toned, & handcolored the photo

I did two album covers for Noel and shot this spread (mostly about wife, Sara) for the L.A. Times Sunday magazine. It ran to three pages. Noel & Sara told the Times they'd be more comfortable if I shot it. They were angels to me. I rented a large format camera for this shoot. I didn't own one.

Joni Mitchell wasn't a big star yet. Noel's manager, Eliot Roberts, was Joni's manager, and he hired me to shoot her at the Troubadour. In those days, I always used Tri-X and available light and pushed the film. I had a darkroom in the service porch of my little place.

Leonard Cohen and Judy Collins (next page) came to Joni's dressing room. Handcolored photo.

I took this picture of Judy Collins in the dressing room and gave it to Joni later on. While I was in Synanon, I bought a copy of her "For The Roses" album. This (below the photo) drawing was inside.

I shot this in Topanga Canyon for a Grass Roots album. The photo I suggested for the front was crap (at least it looks awful to me now), but I like this one (for the back) a lot. The sun on the lens was a lucky accident.

Fred Neil was visiting L.A. in '68, staying in a little bungalow on Sweetzer next door to Gram Parsons. Like everyone, especially the girls, I loved him. His sweetness, his southern charm when you walked in, no matter what was going on, he'd call out, "Baby! Where you BEEN?" In that VOICE. A lot of people hung out in his tiny shack, but I managed to catch him alone once or twice and crawl into bed with him. I shot a lot of medium and bigtime rock stars, but Fred was my hero, a poet and an artist with a lot of soul.

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© mspepper 2011