Anniek Snoeijs. BLOOM
| Language: English |
| Cover: Paperback |
Description:
"I can vividly remember the first lowrider event I
attended in Los Angeles. I had driven out on a Sunday in October 2018 to
attend an event called Sunday Funday. The concept is self-explanatory:
everybody comes together to have fun on Sunday, without any bullshit,
with a common love for lowriders. It was located at the intersection of
Rosecrans on South Broadway, on the border between Compton and Carson,
in an industrial area — a very long boulevard with factory buildings and
warehouses. When I first showed up in the early afternoon, there
weren’t that many people out. But within one hour, the whole place was
packed with barbecue vendors and people selling t-shirts and
merchandise. I feel like there were 500 to 800 people there that day.
And for me it was like: “Wow, all the things that I’ve been interested
in my whole life—LA culture, architecture, cars, and rap music— all come
together in one place here.” It was very overwhelming at first, but I
just kept taking photos, talking to people. I was the only White
European male at that time at that venue. As someone who was standing
out in the crowd, people approached me, both curious and suspicious.
“Are you the feds?” “Do you work for TV, are you a journalist?” “Who are
you?” I responded, “No, it’s just my first time here. I’m a
photographer from Belgium, passing by because I’m very attracted to the
lowrider scene.” In response, a lot of people gave me a warm welcome.
“Oh cool. Let me tell you something about my car, look at this hydraulic
system, look at the back of the car, I’ll pop the trunk for you.”
People began to explain all their customizations—who worked on their
car, who did the paint job, what it took for them to build such a car.
And it dawned on me: lowriders are about more than just aesthetics.
Sunday Funday is a sacred happening. It’s social. It’s political. It’s
about community, too: If someone’s in trouble, the community takes care
of them with a fundraiser, whether it’s for a health condition, or in
some unfortunate cases, a death. I came back following Sunday, and the
one after that, and it became a ritual. I went back to Sunday Funday
events as much as I could. I made trips in April, June, and October
2019, and January 2020 just before the COVID-19 pandemic happened, and
then most recently in January and May of 2022. Upon returning to work
more on this documentary project, I realized that even with two years of
the pandemic causing a rift in people being able to gather, the people
didn’t forget each other, or about me, and the relationships were still
the same. Everybody had the same feeling of finally coming together
again. Every time I come to L.A, I meet another person who introduces me
to their world. If I visit one body shop, I get in contact with another
body shop — If I go to a low rider event, I’ll learn about another one.
I decided to conduct as many interviews as I could with people I’d met
over the years because I couldn’t retell their stories myself — it had
to come from them. Everyone I meet, everything I come across here is
different from the world I know. I zoom in on details that catch my eye:
14k gold rims, blue, orange, and green hues, salon fresh hair, new sets
of nails, tattoos that tell a story about someone’s life. I’m looking
for connections. Over the years, people showed me how lowriding is a
positive light in their world. 'Back to Back: From Backyard to
Boulevard' represents the process of starting on your first car in your
backyard, then bringing it to a body shop, where it will spend months
being customized, to when you show it on the boulevard and share its
beauty with family and friends. To ride on the boulevard is to have a
good time, put all the bullshit that divides everyone during the week
aside. The boulevard is a place where old disputes can be worked out,
where people from different rivaling neighborhoods can be in the same
space. People from rivaling L.A. neighborhoods can be in the same car
club and come together on that Sunday and work things out. The lowrider
on itself is a representation of the owner’s imagination, or his
creative side. “Why did you apply these stripes?” “Why did you choose
this color?” “What idols are featured on your car?” There’s also a
sportsmanship to it: You can ride solo or in a club, where there are
different divisions and ranking systems, where people do hops at arena
shows. It’s an approachable dream of wealth and desire that is in
contrast with the middle working class reality of the everyday. For me,
personally, this body of work is about unity: Coming together as one.
It’s a love song dedicated to the low and slow.This project is a way to
participate in a culture that I grew up with, but never was a part of
because of the geographical distance. By documenting it, I feel a form
of participation. I pursue Back to Back to celebrate the low rider as a
muse and to accurately represent the people behind it. To those who are
involved in the project: Thank you. I’m forever grateful and carry you
in my heart. Peace and Love."
STIG DE BLOCK
ISBN:
9789464002065
Specifications: