#Detroit Photographic Company

[federer7]

Man and boy fishing with cane pole from shore. Circa 1900

Photo: Detroit Photographic Company

View full size

[detroitlib]

Colored photographic print of Arch Rock with sailboat under the arch. Printed on photograph front: "Arch Rock, Mackinac Island, Michigan, copyright 1899 by Detroit Photographic Co." Printed on mat back: "Aèac Photograph, We photograph the world in the colors of nature, Detroit Photographic Company, scenic and art publishers, Detroit, Michigan." Handwritten on mat back: "Arch Rock, Mackinac Is., Mich."

Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library

[thisprettyukrainianletter]

From the boulevard Yalta, the Crimea , Ukraine

2. The gulf, Yalta, the Crimea, Ukraine

3. Gurzuf from the Yalta Road, the Crimea, Ukraine

4. Gurzuf, the Crimea, Ukraine

5. The Crimea, Alupka. The Imperial palace, Ukraine

6. The church, Baidar, the Crimea, Ukraine

7. Gurzuf, from the Park, the Crimea, Ukraine

8. The gulf, Sebastopol, Ukraine

9. The Khan's palace, Bakhchysaraĭ, Ukraine

10. The harem, Bakhchysaraĭ, Ukraine

Photos were published between 1890 and 1900 and are part of The Photochrom Print Collection, which has almost 6,000 views of Europe and the Middle East and 500 views of North America. Published primarily from the 1890s to 1910s, these prints were created by the Photoglob Company in Zürich, Switzerland, and the Detroit Publishing Company in Michigan. The richly colored images look like photographs but are actually ink-based photolithographs, usually 6.5 x 9 inches.

Source https://www.loc.gov

[p-redux]

My conclusions after researching Lauren Marie, the woman photographed holding hands with Sam Heughan in London on May 29, 2024. And my opinions on the whole situation. Also, some stuff regarding Sam and Sarah Holden. With a little Chloe Montana thrown in...

As per usual, this is gonna be a LONG one. You know what to do...put up your feet, grab a beverage, and dive right in.

But first, for those who need a refresher, here's my previous post on Lauren Marie and Sam Heughan. 👇

Okay, now onto the assertion by many, that Lauren Marie seen with Sam in London is an escort. First, let's clarify what that means. An escort is not necessarily a prostitute. A prostitute offers sex in exchange for money. An escort may or may not offer sex. But their main role is to accompany rich men to dinners, events, or travel with them. I know what you're thinking...why would a man pay a woman to basically be his date and not also get sex out of it? Men are dumb sometimes, what can I tell you. You can bet your bottom dollar that if I'm gonna PAY some hot dude for his company, he better be doing more than taking me out to dinner. Much more. Mind bogglingly, MANY, MANY, MANY men are literally okay with shelling out thousands of dollars just to have a beautiful, sexy woman on their arm. Some like to take on the role of Sugar Daddy and they lavish their Sugar Baby with gifts, condos, etc., for the pleasure of their dinner or travel company. Don't ask me how I know so much about this. Let's just say I had to do some research for it related to one of my work projects. I've interviewed men who are Sugar Daddies and women who are Sugar Babies. But I digress...

Onto Sam's Lauren Marie (I'm gonna call her that to make it easier to identify her in this post). If you Google "Lauren Marie escort," you get a few escort websites. The first one that pops up is xlamma. So, the picture on the account looks like it could be Sam's Lauren Marie. Keep note of the phone number and her tattoo. 👇

Here is another escort site with same name, similar info, same phone number, two new pics, and the same one from the other website. Again, same phone number, same tattoo. And now we see another tattoo on her other arm. 👇

Here's a 3rd escort website with two of the same pics from the other websites, plus a new one. Both tattoos match again. Same phone number as the other two websites. This woman is in Fort Lauderdale Florida. 👇

Here is a 4th escort website with the SAME phone number. And the woman in one of the pics has the SAME shoulder tattoo as in some of the previous websites. But this one is a totally different city and state--Detroit, Michigan. 👇

Why am I pointing out the tattoos? Because the escort's tattoos DO NOT match Sam's Lauren Marie's tattoos. 👇 The woman on the left has a huge tattoo on her right upper arm, Sam's Lauren Marie does NOT.

Here's more. Before you look at both pics, keep in mind that both pics are SELFIES looking in the mirror. Mirrors show reverse images of everything. What look like tattoos on their left arms, are actually tattoos on their right arms. The woman on the left has a single tattoo on her lower right wrist. She is the one on the escort website. The woman on the right is Sam's Lauren Marie. She has 3 tattoos on her right arm. Two on her lower right wrist and one that is some writing on her inner upper right arm. The woman on the left has no writing on her inner upper right arm. 👇

Below, is the same escort selfie pic in a mirror, showing one tattoo on her lower right arm. And Sam's Lauren Marie taking a selfie video, showing her lower right arm with TWO colorful tattoos.

In conclusion, the Lauren Marie on escort sites does not seem to be the Lauren Marie that was seen holding hands with Sam Heughan in London on May 29, 2024.

Since I was deep into my research, I decided to actually CALL the number that was on the escort websites. The things I do for you guys. 👇

Guess who answered? NO ONE. I got the automated message "the number you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service." So, that means there's no chance of Sam...or any other man contacted escort "Lauren Marie," that way.

So, since I know about this subject. Again, don't ask how. By and large, the pictures on escort sites are FAKE. Rich, old dude, who's not getting his willy wet at home decides to hire an escort for some company and willy wetting, and 99.9% of the time, he ain't getting the bodacious babe that's in the ad. Oh, there will be a woman behind the door when he comes a knocking, and she will be semi attractive and very attentive, but it won't be the one in the picture. Only if the man is very picky or not super desperate, will he turn her down, most men, will be "Okay, fine, you'll do." The people running these operations know this. That's why they employ the old "bait and switch" technique. It works out fine most of the time. Now you know.

Having said that, WHO is Sam's London Lauren Marie? We've all already seen her Instagram account. 👇 ALL are pics of her looking sexy and glammed up, galivanting all over the world. She's posted from Los Angeles, to New York, to Dubai, to South Africa, to Brazil and many other places. Yet, she doesn't post what she does for a living in her bio. No links to businesses, no company endorsements, not even Only Fans.

But she's clearly traveling and having a great time on a consistent basis. Here's her gay best friend saying they travel the world together. 👇

He has a bunch of other Tik Tok videos showing them traveling together. There's one where he posts they "finessed," a month in Paris. Unless the dudes hiring are into some kinky "busty babe with her gay best friend" threesome, I find it odd that she would be an international escort with her gay bff in tow. Some women do travel with a "bodyguard" of sorts, basically a beefy guy who can extricate them from precarious situations, but this guy is definitely not the "bodyguard" type. Anyway, she doesn't always travel with him.

Here she is on her own Tik Tok account, trying to forge a path as an influencer. 👇

She also hangs out and goes to events with other sexy models like Corrie Yee, who she was mistaken for initially. They attended the BabesInToyland charity event. Click on the video to watch it. 👇

So far, the impression I got was that she was doing what MANY young women do who count on their looks and sex appeal to get them ahead, she was trying to capitalize on that. There is such a huge market for it and there is a broad spectrum on how that capitalizing can occur. You an interpret that as you wish. I didn't really think anything negative about her. Just another sexy wannabe. That was until, I watched the video below. Yikes. Don't get me wrong, I'm no saint, and I love copious f-bombs, but in this video she and her friends drop f-bombs and "bitch" like it's their JOB. It's SO CRINGE. Watch at your own risk. 👇

In summary, do I think Sam's choice of Lauren Marie was the best choice? No. Lots of other sexy bimbettes he could be hooking up with who don't sound like truck drivers. In fact, all the other women we know he's dated or hooked up with, even the ones that verged on bimbette, haven't acted this way. I'm a very tolerant person, but if I'm honest, even I was "what the hell, Sam?" Ironic, I know, I know.

Here are my opinions and my take on this. OMG, I'm SO tired you guys. Again, I must really love you. Okay, here we go.

Do I think Sam pays for escorts? ABSOLUTELY NOT. He doesn't have to. He has women teen, young adult, adult, middle-aged, grandma aged, one foot in the gravers, ALL kinds of women, lining up for him. And that's just fans hahaha. Besides fans, his social media DM's are FULL. I know this for a fact. Sources, people, sources. And we know he's on the celebrity dating app, Raya. Anytime he wants to have a no-strings-attached hook up or fling, all he has to do is go through his virtual Rolodex (the youngens will have to Google that reference) and boom, he can meet up with a woman. Some will say, "but the reason men go to prostitutes or escorts is because they want to be able to walk away, no expectations, and no one spilling their secrets." Yes, but celebrities are different. They know thousands of women are ready and willing to sleep with them for FREE and they will keep their mouths shut. I know we sometimes hear stories of celebrity hook ups, but think about HOW MANY we don't hear about it. That's because the women either want to keep sleeping with the celeb and/or they don't want to get sued, etc. Sam Roland Heughan, at age 44, still handsome as hell, in amazing shape, charming as all get out, does not at this point in time in his life have the need to hire an escort. To quote an old, semi-offensive classic song by Dire Straits, "money for nothing, and your chicks for free."

Do I think Sam meets women on the exclusive, celebrity dating app, Raya and has hooks up that way? ABSOLUTELY YES. And that's HOW I believe he met Lauren Marie. This is just my speculating, but I imagine she got herself an invite to be on Raya and then she meets rich, famous men there. She gets to travel and be pampered that way. And hey, many women are dating and having sex with non famous, non rich guys, why not try your luck with the rich and famous ones. So, I think either Sam contacted Lauren Marie or vice versa on Raya, and they agreed to meet up, and obviously more.

Do I think the pics in London of Sam and Lauren Marie were a staged pap walk? A PR set up by Sam and/or his team? NOPE. No way in hell. Sam is still doing very well, he is still visible, Outlander hasn't ended, and all his business and charity endeavors are super promoted. He doesn't need any pap walks. BUT, IF he did, they would be for GOOD PR. Being seen with Lauren Marie was BAD PR. And he has a very experienced team who would never pull a stunt like that. A true pap walk would have involved a known or semi known actress, model, not a woman no one knows and one that could or could not have a shady history. It also doesn't involve the subjects looking down, looking miserable. If it was a pap walk, they would have been smiling, preening for the camera. Also, I was just reminded that after the pics with Lauren Marie went viral, Sam turned off tags on his IG account. You don't do that if the intent was for PR.

So, then why the hand holding you ask? If it was "just a fling," why are they holding hands? I wondered that too. My guess is that they must have had a great time together and were fine being affectionate with each other in public. OR, this was not the first time they've met up. This is just the only time they've been photographed. I'm sure Sam has had other hook ups that the paps didn't get wind of with her and with other women.

Who called the paps? Definitely NOT Sam. Again, this is not good PR for him, and he definitely knows that. And I actually don't think she did either, or else she would have looked happier. But I guess, it's still possible it was her. This IS good PR for her. An unknown being seen with a hot, famous actor? Guess, what? Now her pics are all over social media and celeb news outlets. Here we are talking about her. If it wasn't her though, then as is the case many times, someone at the hotel, or a restaurant, or shop recognized Sam and called the paps. It happens ALL THE TIME.

Regardless, I am not the person to turn to if you want to shame Sam or Lauren Marie about their choices. I think all sex is good, as long as it's between consenting adults. Obviously, these are two adults consenting to be together in whatever manner they deem fit. I don't see anything wrong with it. If you do, that's your right, but please try to be civil about it on my blog.

What about Sam and Sarah Holden "didn't you say you had proof they were dating?!" I never said I had "proof," I said I KNEW 100% they were dating. And that still holds true. I know for sure Sam and Sarah were dating before May 29 through two direct insider sources I know and trust. Apart from that, two people who claimed to have info from Sarah's camp also confirmed it. But those two people I don't know and can't vet completely, so I took what they told me with a grain of salt. Regardless, I completely trust the other two people whose identities I know. And they both confirmed #samarah. And remember, it's not just me confirming it...there is proof they vacationed in the Canary Islands together, there is proof Sam was cheering on Sarah at Hyrox, Glasgow and he didn't compete. And there is proof that Sam didn't compet and was cheering on Sarah at Hyrox, London, holding her purse, and eating at an outdoor restaurant with her. There's not disputing that and Hyrox London wasn't that long ago. So, we have independent proof and I have my identifiable trusted sources who confirmed #samarah to me. Now, the thing is I was not told whether they were dating exclusively. So, the Lauren Marie London thing could have happened because Sam and Sarah are not in an exclusive relationship. OR they broke up after being in London together for Hyrox, and Sam felt like drowning his sorrows in something brunette. Sarah will be at Hyrox World in France next week. If Sam shows up, then that may give us a clue. Also, if we see Sam with Lauren Marie again, then we'll know she wasn't the one who called the paps. If we don't see her again, then we'll know she did or Sam thinks she did.

In summary, I don't believe Sam's Lauren Marie is on the escort sites shown. I do think she probably has some "arrangements" with certain wealthy men she knows, and that's how she travels the world. Unless, someone can show me other business ventures she has. I do believe she and Sam met on Raya. Sam had no idea who she is. Just a sexy woman he found attractive and wanted to hook up with. He didn't Google her, like we did. And there was no pap walk from his team. They would FOR SURE have Googled her and vetted her. Lauren Marie may have called the paps. If not, hotel, restaurant, or shop did. I knew with 100% certainty Sam and Sarah were dating. Didn't know if it was exclusive or not. I'm not sure if Sam and Sarah are still together. But, even if they were not dating exclusively, seeing those pics of Sam holding hands with Lauren Marie had to sting a little. It's one thing to know the man you're dating is dating other women, it's quite another to SEE it. I'm sure I forgot something. Let me know if you have any questions. I'm exhausted.

In other news, past rumored date, Chloé Montana poked her head into the conversation and posted a Jamie Fraser reference in her IG stories hahaha! The screenshot on the left is from a clip of the Bravo show The Valley. One of the men on the show dressed up as Jamie Fraser. Why he's wearing a black wig and not red, I'll never know. And on the right is the Jamie Fraser/Sam Heughan reference. I'm still cackling over it. Gotta love Chloé's sense of humor. 👇

PS. I know you all have LOTS of feelings and opinions about all this. I simply ask that you are respectful of Sam and Lauren Marie. They're both human beings living their lives, they're not out killing puppies, let's all take a deep breath. None of us know them personally. They haven't DONE anything TO us. If you want to badmouth Sam or Lauren Marie, there are plenty of blogs wanting to take you under their wing. If you want to continue engaging with my blog, I ask that you be civil. The only people I'm not civil with are haters who have made my life hell, namely Extreme Shippers and ex-Extreme Shippers. And people who are annoying assholes. Everyone else, I'm nice to. You be nice to me, I'll be nice to you. Simple.

I'm off to shower and then take a nap. Love you guys!

[solcattus]

Ave Maria, 1907

Painted by Douglas Volk

Photographed by Detroit Publishing Company, c. 1912

[gacougnol]

American Fall in winter, Niagara

Photochrom by Detroit Photographic Company, between 1898 and 1905.

[fatchance]

I have been away, and I'm about to step out again for even more adventures. New posts will resume in a few weeks.

This vintage postcard is adapted from an image in the digital collections of the New York Public Library. The original was produced sometime between 1898 and 1931 by the Detroit Publishing Company. If you have ever stood on the Grand Canyon's rim you know the futility of capturing the expansive view with a photograph, so you might as well make your postcard imaginative and fanciful. Pity the poor horses though.

[saturdaynightghostclub]

hey toady i love ur brainnn can i maybe ask for a lil donnie angst perhaps something to do w him being on the road 🫣 you’re an incredible writer btw :)

Drivin’ on 9

Come back, just fucking come back.

You couldn’t just get a job as a Sears photographer, could you?

They need you, fuck, I need you, just pleasefuckingcomehome.

You’re trying hard to curb the bitterness of your inner monologue. It’s not Donnie’s fault he’s all over the country, and usually it’s alright. You miss him, sure, but you know he loves you, know each night that he’s wishing just as hard as you are that he was back in Chicago with you. Usually. But usually his mother and oldest sister aren’t perched anxiously on your couch, backs pin-straight, trying to pretend it’s okay that you were the only one home when they arrived.

“I’m sorry,” you say, addressing Mrs. MacClain, “really, he should be home any minute. Usually he calls me from the airport to let me know he’s on his way, I can’t imagine what’s keeping him.” You’ve already offered tea, wine, whatever the hell’s in your pantry, but the MacClain women are here on business. That one-track mind must be a genetic thing.

Mrs. MacClain (you really can’t get the hang of calling her Lisa) reaches across the coffee table and squeezes your hand. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” she says, smiling through the strain in her voice, “I’m sorry I’m not better company, I’m a bit preoccupied.” She doesn’t want to say whatever it is she’s come to say until her son arrives. You understand. If it’s anything like what you’re suspecting, it would be tough news to break twice. Carrie swallows hard beside her mother. She hasn’t said a word all night. For all that Donnie’s family loves you, there are certain things they need to deal with among themselves; you imagine that’s why Jack and the girls aren’t present. As for Eliza and Mr. MacClain, you’ve got no idea. Your throat itches with unasked questions and your fingers twitch uselessly in your lap, wanting to do something, anything, to help.

The minutes tick by achingly, and you remind yourself that you can’t actually be upset with your boyfriend. It’s something you used to have to tell yourself repeatedly in the early days of your relationship: it’s his job, it’s not about you, you’re not angry, you just miss him. It took a lot of reassuring back then, a frankly embarrassing amount, to have you fully convinced that this long-distance thing wasn’t going to break you. Eventually you started to recognize his attention for what it was: love. It took you a while to get there–to accept it, I mean. A man can tell you he loves you until he’s blue in the face, and you can believe him, but how do you know for sure? How do you know, until you really, really know?

For you, the “I know” came at possibly the most inopportune moment it could have. It was the height of that first baseball season after you moved in together, and things were good. You had your work, and he had his; he’d fuck off to Cleveland, or Detroit, or Milwaukee, or whatever city on Earth the Cubs were losing to that week, and when he came home he’d hold you just tightly enough to make it all okay again, rinse and repeat week after week. You knew it was hard; you always assumed it was harder for you than it was for him. This was his life, and sometimes you didn’t fit, but it was alright. He loved you enough to make space for you. You never considered that he would be struggling just as much as you were (something you feel guilty for to this day). So it came as something of a shock when you arrived home from a rare trip to the office to find Donnie slumped over the kitchen table with his head in his hands and a half-drained beer growing warm and flat before him.

“What the fuck are we doing?” He’d asked without raising his head. He’d sounded so miserable. It caught you off-guard, having known him as a man of two temperaments: optimistic and optimistic-but-kind-of-tired. You’d tried to play dumb, asking what he meant, but he had you. “Baby,” he groaned, lifting his head with Herculean effort, “don’t pretend, okay? We both know this sucks, and we’re both acting like it doesn’t,” and then, heartbreakingly soft, “do you need me like I need you?”

Do you need me like I need you?

You did. Obviously. You do.

That was the first time you’d ever seen Donnie cry. Exhausted and heat-weary and worn to the end of his rope, he’d collapsed on the table, planning ostensibly to stay there. That was when you really, really knew. You knew that you were in this for the long-haul, for the good and the bad, and that you would do anything in your power, as long as you lived, to keep him off that goddamn table and in your life. And when you had coaxed him into a sitting position, when you were sure he was going to be okay, you said the thing you needed to say, even though you knew it would break him cleanly in two: “Fuck. You love me.”

“I–yeah,” he stammered, his face flickering indescribably between confusion and hurt, “I love you, I–you know that, don’t you? Oh god, don’t you know that?” He was terrified, you could see it plainly on his face. Had he not done enough, not tried as hard as he should have? Should he have done things differently, should he have been different?

And what on Earth were you supposed to say to that? I knew you wanted me, but I never realized you needed me. I knew you loved me, just not as much as you loved your job. Not as much as I love you. I knew, but I had no idea. So what you said instead was “I guess I didn’t realize…that we were on the same page about this.”

At that, Donnie had pulled you roughly onto his lap, each breath shaking like it might be his last, and held you fast, swallowing sobs to promise you over and over that things were going to change, that he was sorry, that he loved you desperately and frighteningly and truly.

To his credit, things did change. That was both the worst night of your entire relationship and the one that you absolutely couldn’t imagine your life without; what the hell would have happened to the two of you if it hadn’t been for that night? Your resolution was to stop pretending everything was fine and that it didn’t absolutely blow to be apart more often than not. An absolute, no-holds-barred, total bitchfest whenever the situation called for it, plus tagging along on the occasional trip whenever work could spare you. You kick yourself, wishing you could have seen this one coming.

The sound of Donnie’s key in the lock makes you jump. You clamber to your feet to meet him at the door, noting gravely that Lisa and Carrie make no move to join you.

“Hello, my love,” Donnie grins, moving to kiss you before he sees the look on your face. His hands go to your shoulders, slide down your arms, circle your wrists–you wonder if he’s even aware that he seems to be checking you for injuries. He looks you over, eyes landing hard on your own. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t know what else to say but “Your mom and Carrie are here.”

Donnie pulls you into a brief hug, squeezing you once before he passes you to sit in the chair you yourself occupied only seconds before. He looks at you from his seat, a silent plea to stay, but you shake your head. This is family business. You busy yourself for a moment with leftover breakfast plates, letting them crash against each other in the sink to drown out Mrs. MacClain’s hushed voice. Eventually, you drift off to the bedroom and sit on your bed fully clothed, wondering what proper etiquette would suggest you do.

It takes about an hour. The front door opens, then shuts, then Donnie enters your room. His eyes are red-rimmed and hopelessly lost.

“I, um…” he starts, shrugging around a deep, shuddering breath, “I was in Philly.”

“I know,” you say gently, moving to stand before him. He tugs you closer by the waist, eyes sailing over the top of your head before coming to rest on your face.

“No, I mean. I mean I was in Philly when he,” deep breath, “my dad had a heart attack.”

Alright, you need to play this one right. You nod slowly, gently. “And?”

“He’s gonna be okay,” Donnie murmurs vacantly, like that’s not even the important part, “but I was in Philly when it happened.”

You think you see what’s going on. “You being in Philadelphia has nothing to do with your dad’s heart attack,” you say, “these things are completely random, I mean–no, they’re not, but they almost are.” You’re rambling now. You’ve never been very good at comforting people when they’re upset. “What I mean is that there’s nothing you could have done differently that would have changed anything.”

“Okay, but that’s not true, is it?” Donnie asks. His words are the start of an argument, but his tone is one of complete despair. He runs a hand up and down your back in apology. “I’m sorry. If I were home, I could have been here when he–when he went in. I could have been there when he woke up. And what if he never woke up? He could have–,” he chokes, leaving the rest of his words unsaid. He could have died, and I would have been in Philadelphia.

There’s nothing you can say right now that will calm him down, so instead you wrap your arms around his neck and press your body against his, letting him hold you as tightly as he needs to. “I’ll drive,” you say, pulling carefully away, “it’ll be good for him to see you.”

You don’t need to elaborate, Donnie knows what you mean. Knows what you’re doing for him. He nods. Then he kisses you. When he pulls back, your skin is cold where his tears have touched it.

Maybe you’ll have to talk him out of quitting his job tomorrow. Maybe you’ll have to make a casserole and bring it to his mother. Maybe all you’ll be able to do is love him. In any case, there’s one thing you know: there will be no compromise. He’ll keep the job, he’ll keep his girl, and he’ll keep his family–there’s no other way for him to be.

[littlefeather-wolf]

An Ojibwe man known as Arrowmaker, C. 1903. Photochromic print by the Detroit Photographic Company, via the Library of Congress

[thatrickmcginnis]

LAUGHING HYENAS, DIE KREUZEN, KILLDOZER - Touch & Go Records Roadshow, Toronto, Jan. 1988

By the time Grunge broke I felt like I was being aged out of the music scene since so much of it sounded like things I'd been listening to a few years earlier, when it didn't have a name except for maybe "indie" or "the music no major label will release." The bands who came to Toronto in January of 1988 as part of the Touch & Go Records Roadshow are a perfect example, and for some reason I was moved to try to get portraits of all three of them that night, despite my increasing wariness of photographing bands. (Long story short: like herding cats. Cats with shitty attitudes.)

Killdozer might have been the most popular band on the bill that night. The Wisconsin trio comprised of bassist/vocalist Michael Gerald and brothers Bill and Dan Hobson on guitar and drums sang sarcastic lyrics from debased or demented first-person characters over a pummeling grind. They were also the most eager subjects of the night, goofing for my camera and giving me my most successful shots for the spreads that would run in Nerve magazine.

I knew the least about the Laughing Hyenas when they showed up on the bill for the Touch & Go Records Roadshow in 1988, which might explain why I (shamefully) don't have any live shots of the band. They grew out of Detroit-based groups like Negative Approach and L-Seven, and I photographed their classic lineup before the show, with John Brannon, Larissa Stolarchuk, Kevin Monroe and Jim Kimball. The band had a troubled existence, with drug problems and lineup changes, but they produced some incredible records, and of the three groups I photographed that night, they're probably my favorite today. Sadly, Larissa Stolarchuk died in 2006 at just 46. John Brannon still tours with a revived version of Negative Approach.

Die Kreuzen were the band I was most excited to see on the Touch & Go Records Roadshow bill that played Toronto in early 1988. The Illinois band (whose name is pronounced either "Die Crusin'" or "Dee Kroy-tzen" depending on how metal you feel, I guess) had just put out October File, one of my favorite records of the '80s, which still had some traces of hardcore amidst all the prog, metal and post-punk influences on the record. Like all the other bands on the bill, the group was produced by Butch Vig, and Kurt Cobain's love of Touch & Go acts inevitably led to Vig producing Nirvana's breakthrough record for Geffen, breaking Grunge big but making me feel like this was where I came in.

I shot all three bands around soundcheck at what was probably the Apocalypse Club on College Street, with my most ambitious setup at the time - a white painter's tarp I carried around in a gym bag, gaffer-taped to the wall and a single flash bounced into an umbrella. The only real yardstick I had for band photos at the time were the promo glossies that record companies sent out in press packages, so it's not surprising that mimicking press handouts was the height of my ambition. I've re-scanned and worked on these shots pretty heavily; some of them are still just weaksauce attempts at band promos, but a couple are a bit more successful.

[federer7]

Lower Manhattan and the East River. Riverfront from the Brooklyn Bridge, New York. Circa 1901

Photo: Detroit Photographic Company.

View full size

[detroitlib]

Colored photographic print of Arch Rock with sailboat under the arch. Printed on photograph front: "Arch Rock, Mackinac Island, Michigan, copyright 1899 by Detroit Photographic Co." Printed on mat back: "Aèac Photograph, We photograph the world in the colors of nature, Detroit Photographic Company, scenic and art publishers, Detroit, Michigan." Handwritten on mat back: "Arch Rock, Mackinac Is., Mich."

Burton Historical Collection, Detroit Public Library

[mudwerks]

(via Screw Department: 1902 | Shorpy)

1902. "Screw Machine Department, National Cash Register, Dayton, O." 8x10 inch dry plate glass negative, Detroit Photographic Company. View full size.

[wetsteve3]

The first William Henderson designed four cylinder motorcycle, America's finest early four cylinder, influential for decades This is believed to be the only original/unrestored 1912 Henderson known in America

Original paint and tires 59 cubic inch F-Head Four Cylinder engine Henderson was based in Detroit, formed by brothers William and Tom The Henderson company was purchased by Ignatz Schwinn in 1918, adding a four cylinder to the Excelsior lineup.

Working for Schwinn for two years, Bill and Tom broke away and started the ACE motorcycle company. The Culmination of Henderson design can be seen in the Indian Four

Formerly from the Doc Cleveland Collection. William Henderson was an engineering child prodigy, as so many historical figures seem to be. He was born into the motoring industry, as his grandfather, Alexander Winton, had founded one of the earlier auto makers in the USA, and his father was Vice President of Winton Motors. William joined the family firm at 16, but spent his free time sketching out ideas for motorcycles, which he’d pass by his father for technical critique. Eventually, the sketches became blueprints, and his father could only nitpick at the sound design for a 4-cylinder motorcycle his son had penned in 1909. Figuring the effort of actually building a prototype from the sketches might curb his enthusiasm, Tom helped William build a working prototype in 1911; the resulting machine worked so well, young William was able to secure funding to the tune of $175,000 to start manufacture on his own. Working with his brother Thomas as chief operating officer, the Henderson Motorcycle Company produced its first motorcycle from its Detroit factory in January 1912.

The first Hendersons used a 4-cylinder 57 CI (934cc) motor with inlet-over-exhaust design, with a single-speed chain drive and a clutch. It was started via a folding hand crank, just like a Winton car, and the very long chassis was designed for stability and the ability to carry a passenger with ease. The front fork had a short leading-link suspension, and the fuel was carried in a long cylindrical torpedo tank. It was a beautiful and elegant machine, wonderfully constructed, very fast and expensive at $325. It was soon labeled the “Duesenberg of motorcycles” for good reason, with totally smooth running, a charming exhaust note and an air of quality. Carl Stearns Clancy famously chose a Henderson for the first ever round-the-world motorcycle journey, which began in October 1912 and covered 18,000 miles by August 1913. Clancy earned money selling press reports and photographs of his trip, making an incredible publicity coup of Henderson.

This 1912 Henderson is the only original-paint, first-year Henderson known in America. It retains the paint applied by the factory, as well as the tires and everything else. It is truly a once-in-a-lifetime motorcycle, in remarkable condition for being 105 years old and would be welcome in any Concours d’Elegance around the world as a solid-gold original. How does one value such a machine? One doesn’t; if you can afford it, do what it takes to secure it as this is as good as it gets.

[enkisstories]

Gavin wasn’t at the gym just to exercise, he also had a task from his editor-in-chief to fulfill.

Get better at videogames... work on your speech skill... gain more social media followers... take photos in the park and at the gym... At times Gavin wondered why'd even bothered to learn how to write and draw. As of late he had little opportunity to do either. (*)

Gavin: "Alright, we lie in wait for an android to show up. Everything with androids in sells like hotcake these days."

Photographer: "What would an android want at a gym? They are made from plastic, unchanging, and they don't eat, let alone overeat."

Gavin: "Hello, Mister...?”

Antony: “Deckart.”

Gavin: “I’m from the Detroit Metro Times and saw that you brought your android to the gym. May I ask you a few questions about it?”

Antony: "Sure!”

Gavin: “What would an android want at a gym?”

Antony: “I'm the DPD's android handler and as such I can assure you that an android doesn't "want" anything. It's a machine. Tell that to your panicky readers!"

Gavin: "Then why did you bring your android along today?"

Antony: "I want company, but my partner took a sick day, so I brought Eloise instead."

Gavin: "But if its a machine, then how can it offer company?"

Antony: "That's where things get blurry, I guess."

Gavin: "Your training partner... is he a cop, too? What happened to him?"

Antony: "Haha, you again, not letting any trail grow cold, are you? Sorry to disappoint, but it's nothing newsworthy. Just a sick kid at home."

(*)... That is because I have him in the Social Media career, not in Writer - I prefer the work from home careers.

[artdecoandmodernist]

Song of the Nile by “L. Goddard”. Original Published Art for American Art Works Calendar Company. 1931.

“L. Goddard” was the pseudonym for a pair of enterprising commercial artists: L.G. Woolfenden, a successful Detroit area commercial photographer, and Rudolphe/ Rudolph Ingerle a Vienna born fine art landscape artist who exhibited to great fanfare, at museums and galleries in Chicago in the early 20th century. 

Grapefruit Moon Gallery.