Photographer Theresa Kereakes brings a snapshot of punk history to Little Five Points

If you’re familiar with the Germs, the Cramps, the Dead Boys, Stiv Bators, Alice Bag, the Avengers, and Joan Jett, you’ve no doubt seen her work.

SALAD DAYS: Theresa Kereakes on her 20th birthday (April 14, 1978), in the parking lot of the Starwood, preparing to take photos of the Jam.
Photo credit: Randy Kaye

Theresa Kereakes is one of the unsung heroes in the secret history of punk. If you’re familiar with the Germs, the Dead Boys, Stiv Bators, Alice Bag, the Cramps, the Avengers, and Joan Jett, you’ve no doubt seen her work. On Sat., July 30, Kereakes is showing her photographs at Wax n’ Facts Records.

At 9 p.m., she joins Frank Secich, a founding member of power pop outfit Blue Ash, Stiv Bators Band, Deadbeat Poets, and the latter era Dead Boys lineup in the Star Bar’s Little Vinyl Lounge. Secich reads from his book, Circumstantial Evidence: Tall Tales, Live Music & Crime Scene Photos. The reading is followed by a Q&A, and Secich, fellow Deadbeat Poet Pete Drivere, Gregg Kostelich (the Cynics), and Zack Keim (Nox Boys) play songs from throughout Secich’s career.

Before making her way to Atlanta, Kereakes took a few minutes to answer some questions about her experiences with punk rock in the late ’70s, photography, and life with Stiv Bators.

What came first for you, punk rock or photography?

PHOTOGRAPHY came first for me. I hijacked my parents’ Leica when I was about four or five years old. I promptly broke it, but I did document our family pets and vacations for years with various cameras, ranging from Kodak Instamatics to point and shoot cameras and the SLRs I still use today.

Where did you grow up and how did you come to be involved with the music scene that’s featured in the photographs you’re showing at Wax N Facts?

I was born in California, and then spent the years prior to kindergarten in European capitals, as my father worked on diplomatic missions. One of the exotic places we lived was Tripoli. Ian Copeland — the middle Copeland brother (of Miles and Stewart Copeland from IRS Records and the Police, respectively) was an occasional sandbox babysitter. Our fathers worked together. My family moved back to Southern California when I had to start school, and only my Dad would go off to exotic places; we got to have exotic vacations to join him though. The music scene was something my friends and I gravitated toward. We’d go to every concert we could, as in the resort beach town where I lived, this was the only way to hang out with and meet other young people. And that’s where I met most of my friends. When I was going to UCLA, I’d go to clubs to see bands, and also the Capital Records Swap Meet and always always record stores. Those were the places where I met all my friends, and so many of those friends formed bands. So, we kind of created our own music scene ... This was the mid-’70s and our beloved glam and glitter were not gaining the kind of traction the record labels would hope for. The radio and concert scene was full of bands we didn’t like. Apparently, this was the frustration around the world simultaneously, because the outgrowth of this particular increase in formation of bands was punk rock.


Lobotomy
Photo credit: Courtesy Theresa Kereakes
Tell me about the zine you worked on in the late ’70s, Lobotomy?

Lobotomy was the brainchild of my college years best friend, Pleasant Gehman, and her high school classmate, Randy Kaye, R.I.P. As an adult, he was the A&R guy who signed the Violent Femmes!

Tell me about the concept behind Unguarded Moments: Backstage and Beyond, and the Punk Turns 30 archive. Are you compiling your photographs for a book?

Yes, I will have my Unguarded Moments book published by Hozac Press, that’s the same as Hozac Records, and the Horizontal Action zine and festival. Great people who love and understand zine and punk culture.

Unguarded Moments is a subset of my punk photos where the subjects are in non performing situations. I had already been on the road for two years with a traveling exhibition of my own “punk rock’s greatest hits,” many of which were live, on stage shots. I wanted to do something different and I thought that backstage/off stage/ at home/ in the recording studio/everyday life shots would give people a look at their icons in a way they’d never seen them before.

Who gets credit for the photo of you (above)?
That photo was taken by the late Randy Kaye, using my camera. It is from April 14, 1978. I remember it because it is my birthday and it is the day we spent with the Jam, which included a ride on an English double decker bus, a dinner of fish and chips and mushy peas at an English pub in Santa Monica, and of course, the Jam concert at the Starwood.

Stiv Bators and Co., circa Disconnected.
Photo credit: Theresa Kereakes
Your name is often associated with Stiv Bators and the Disconnected LP. Did you shoot the cover image of Stiv sitting in the corner holding a gun?

That is the ONLY image on the whole Disconnected package that is NOT mine. That photo is by David Arnoff.

On the back cover are portraits of each band member. I took those. Also, the image in our event’s flyer and on the Facebook events page that is in color and looks like it could be a Doors album cover WAS supposed to be the cover, but one night, Stiv was playing with toy guns and once he saw the photo, the cover art concept changed. There are nine photos on the Disconnected package. Eight of the photos are by me.

I set up a studio seamless backdrop in the recording studio. I was there the whole time the band was there. There was a basketball court in the complex!

A Portrait of the artist as a young man: Stiv Bators.
Photo credit: Theresa Kereakes
Did you know Stiv Bators well?

I knew Stiv very well. Stiv was, under his wild punk rock persona, a nice Catholic boy from the Midwest. He loved his parents and his friends. He was one of my closest friends; I kind of looked after him whenever he came to town. I joined him on the road numerous times, with each of the bands he had, acting like a mom, tour manager, cat wrangler, etc. We were also roommates in London for a while. Michael Monroe was our other roommate, which was a barrel of laughs for the few years we had while Stiv was still alive.

Stiv was a great practical joker. One time, when Stiv, Michael Monroe, and I were living in a posh flat in South Kensington — posh, I say, because it was the same neighborhood Princess Diana lived in before she married Prince Charles — the two of them locked me in my bedroom. It was an apartment that only had one bathroom. It was in my bedroom. I figured they would eventually free me from my imprisonment as one of them would have to pee, or put on eye makeup. Eventually, however, was hours because they were heavy sleepers and I was an early riser. Part of our daily London routine involved afternoons at the pub — not especially for day drinking, but for seeing people, and being seen. Michael never joined us, he only liked to go out with a specific purpose, and “being seen” was not a purpose in his book. But Stiv enjoyed people and places. There was a Tex-Mex cantina where we would always meet Rat Scabies, of the Damned, in the afternoons. One day, he didn’t realize we were there, so we had a barmaid send him a pint on us, with a note from “fans, who always really loved the Jam.” He knew we were in the house after that!

We collaborated on mutual art projects. He was a great subject to photograph and he loved having his picture taken. He developed his Lords of the New Church look during a sojourn in L.A. We took some pictures at Malibu beach, and many of the clothes and accessories he is wearing are mine.

SONGS THE LORD TAUGHT US: The Cramps' classic lineup.
Photo credit: Theresa Kereakes

A lot of your photos feature a classic, California punk scene. I see everyone from the Cramps and Alice Bag to the Avengers, Joan Jett, etc. Did you realize you were documenting a rich cultural moment, or were you aware that something larger was happening?

Yes, most definitely to both. Far from sounding like a self-obsessed, self-referential jerk, though, we all knew something bigger was happening. Most of the original kids in the punk scene were serious students of culture and society. Many of us were into some serious scholarship — of deconstruction, Marxism, and existentialism — and we knew where we fit into the transitional epoch based on our education of other cultural and epochal moments. One of punk rock’s favorite harbingers, the Velvet Underground’s John Cale has a landmark album called Paris 1919. It was and still is a living document — just in its title alone — that points to a crucial time and place in popular culture: Paris between the wars, where cultural production was rich and deep. We were doing our part to keep up with history. We didn’t just pay lip service to revolution, we were indeed fomenting a revolution on many artistic grounds: we kick-started DIY, we broke the glass ceiling that the main stream only just now broke 40 years later, our visuals, fashions and graphics influences designers, and still do. You only need to look at the cover of the August 10, 2014 issue of The New York Times Magazine to see that. It is 100% punk.

When you look back on the material you have shot, is there one photo that resonates with you, maybe more than the other images? Is there a photo that you think of as your favorite?

People know me for a couple images: 1) Joan Jett and Billy Idol in her apartment and 2) the Germs picture sleeve for “Forming.” There is an image on that strip of negatives from the night I photographed the Germs the first time they had a band practice. I call it Pensive Darby, although at the time, he was calling himself Bobby Pyn. I think the image speaks for itself.

Pensive Darby: The Germs.
Photo credit: Theresa Kereakes

Theresa Kereakes’ photos will be at Wax n’ Facts all day. She’ll be there at 5 p.m. 432 Moreland Ave. N.E. 404-525-2275. Secich and friends book reading, Q&A, and show in the Star Bar’s Little Vinyl Lounge. Free.  9 p.m. Sat., July 30. 437 Moreland Ave. www.starbar.net.