Los Angeles is a city dominated by cars. Neighbourhoods are divided by highways that were constructed to cut certain communities off. The idea that LA is a superficial place arose from each of us being in our own automobile bubble, not having face-to-face interactions. As a photographer, I always felt stifled in the car. I had an itch to be outside. But I was thinking about how I could use the car as part of my work. Eventually I realised it could be a mobile studio, with sunroof, windows, tail and headlights. I drive a 1983 Mercedes that was my dad’s for 20 years. I bought it off him two years ago. It runs on vegetable oil that I “dumpster dive” for, from restaurants throughout LA. So not only am I driving for free through the city, I’m also producing fewer emissions. It’s my way of surviving in a car-centred society.
There are so many examples of really, really good car photos: Mike Mandel’s shots of people driving cars, Henry Wessel’s work on traffic, Nan Goldin’s Misty and Jimmy Paulette in a Taxi, NYC, Bruce Davidson’s couple intertwined in the back of a car. I intentionally wanted to address that American tradition, but making it about the inside more than the outside of the car – the vehicle is the destination.
