Unknown Bukowski pictures?

Ponder

Ponder

"So fuck Doubleday Doran"
RIP
John Rechy and Charles Bukowski, 1973.
http://www.gerardmalanga.com/hires/0061.jpg

0061.jpg


The Black Sparrow press also published Gerard Malanga.
 
Gerard K H Love

Gerard K H Love

Appreciate your friends
Is this Gerard Malanga?

gerard.jpg



This one is from the same site too.

0010.jpg


There are pictures of Mick Jagger, Roman Polanski, Iggy Pop, Salvador Dali, and about 15 of Andy Warhol in that collection. The velvet underground. Truman Capote.
 
bospress.net

bospress.net

www.bospress.net
It is strange. On his website, it implies that he shot photographs of the 1939 NY world's Fair, but he was not born until 1943? Also, some of his photos are clearly from the 30's or 40's. This may be a matter of him having bought the copyright to those photos, but he is selling them.

Gerard, The photo above Buk on your post does look like Gerard Malanga.

Bill
 
Rekrab

Rekrab

Usually wrong.
I've seen that one of Buk with arms folded, against a wall, years ago, published somewhere.
 
Rekrab

Rekrab

Usually wrong.
Well, yes, I have seen it here (thanks, Father), but also on paper some place long ago, in some book or magazine -- at least I think I have.
 
Olaf

Olaf

Who is the Dandy? In fact, just discovered, it is John Rechy. Any like his writing? I'm off to find some.

This picture makes me laugh. Buk can deal with queers. I'm a poof and, despite my self-loathing, it's good to know even Bukowski knew that the human soul was 'above' all that judgemental shite, despite the fact we are all judgment cunts.

God bless the whole fucked up human world.
 
roni

roni

There is a series of older pics (from the 60s?) done in front of some bushes. If memory serves me, this could be one of them.

I have some of these pics (from the estate of MM) and will check later, if it was this series.
 
Rekrab

Rekrab

Usually wrong.
I've never seen that snapshot before. I dunno about the same day, mjp. To me he looks younger in the snapshot than in the picture with the bust. But maybe that's just the close up showing wrinkles not seen in the long shot.
 
roni

roni

roni said:
There is a series of older pics (from the 60s?) done in front of some bushes.
Click to expand...

I have checked these. They are definitely not the same series.
(The shirt looks similar, but he has no watch and no beard on these.)

mjp 's idea looks promising. But both those pics are too small to compare the details. Does anyone have bigger scans?

When I went through the pics, I also found another one, that could match with the one in question. I will scan it on Monady.
 
roni

roni

here it is:

Hank_inforontofbushes_small.JPG


the watch, the shirt, the bushes, the beard ... they seem to work.
though he has something big in his shirt-pocket here.
 
hank solo

hank solo

Just practicin' steps and keepin' outta the fights
Moderator
Founding member
roni I think that your snap is more recent than the one ponder posted.
 
Rekrab

Rekrab

Usually wrong.
I agree. Buk looks fairly young in the little snapshot. It looks like the type of snapshots that were made in the 1950s and earlier, which would make him possibly in his 30s.
 
Ponder

Ponder

"So fuck Doubleday Doran"
RIP
Rekrab said:
I agree. Buk looks fairly young in the little snapshot.
Click to expand...
You think so?
It looks more like an early seventies picture to me.
Taken by Brad Darby or so...

I just went back to the site where I found the snapshot.
http://ldanz.blogspot.com/

Losing things happens all the time. For years I could not put my finger on where I had stored my collection of letters from the writer and poet Charles Bukowski. It was the fall of 1972 when I reached San Francisco in my cross-country escape and I went directly to City Lights bookstore. Whatever I could afford I took down from the shelves, poets who were new to me especially. Among them was a collection of poems by Bukowski: The Days Run Away Like Horses Over the Hills, published by Black Sparrow Press in 1969. My driving companion and I took turns reading the poems aloud as we made our way back to New York bolstered by bottles of Henry McKenna and white tablets with little crosses engraved on them that made you feel very, shall we say, awake. I found a few more of Bukowski's books in New York but had to hunt for them. I wrote to him care of the publisher, John Martin and only signed with my last name. I think I had already had a good sense of the volatile chemical reaction he'd had with women. He wrote back with a post office box return. I wrote, revealing my full name and he wrote again, finally including his home address on Carleton Way in Los Angeles.

We continued our written correspondence for a little over a year and my collection of more than 50 letters from him was passed around at many wild and drunken evenings in my apartment for the artists and writers and weirdoes who passed through my life. To my mind, I thought I had, at some point, recognized their value and stashed the letters away somewhere safe because I did have copies of the letters. But periodic searches in the apartment revealed no trace of them. At least I still had the copies. I resigned myself to their loss.

After I left, or rather lost my job in the corporate world I saw the field becoming rockier and rockier (re: younger and younger) and then impossible to navigate. I thought about how I could earn money quickly. I knew a woman of a certain age...er...mine, someone who also fancies herself a writer and had, like me, been unceremoniously dumped from magazine publishing. She had entertained the notion of becoming a dominatrix and she once gifted me with a tightly braided leather whip that so freaked me out I never brought up the subject again. The Mister was never on board with the idea anyway.

One night I recalled a line from one of Buk's letters, about how I should never give up my art; if times got tough his letters might bring cash someday. I was determined to find those letters. The Mister and I pulled out every drawer, emptied every closet, and dug through piles of photos and papers stashed into suitcases. Spent and disappointed I was just about to give in when a basket full of letters from my friend Rauda, a writer in Paris, kind of glowed from under the little desk in the front room. I reached into the lot of them and plucked out a letter from Bukowski, mixed in with her correspondence. I had found the very one I was looking for, the bulk of the collection, in fact. A few of them sold quite well and got us across a financial crevasse.
 
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hank solo

hank solo

Just practicin' steps and keepin' outta the fights
Moderator
Founding member
Ponder said:
I just went back to the site where I found the snapshot.
http://ldanz.blogspot.com/

​
...finally including his home address on Carleton Way in Los Angeles.
Click to expand...

Snapshot-Bukowski.jpg


Yes it looked like Bukowski in his Carlton Way days to me. Or maybe when he was out getting lost 'in the wild' while visiting Linda King's sisters :D

roni's looks like it was taken in San Pedro.
 
roni

roni

I was first thinking of San Pedro too, esp. because of having something in his shirt-pocket. It's a habit he didn't seem to have before San Pedro.

And having them so close together for comparison, I notice, that the beard doesn't mach at all.
 
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