Speed Dating Seattle Part II

The completion of the journey started in part I.

The thing everyone told me to do in Seattle was to see the EMP (Experimental Music Project) museum. The museum building, which I did not bother trying to capture on camera because of its impossibly untamed intricacies, was built to look like the pieces of the guitar Jimi Hendrix burned and smashed at the Monterrey Pop Festival of 1967 - from Kerry Park Viewpoint I could see what clearly resembled a guitar neck.

A large art piece of assembled musical instruments? Actually, this well-known piece in EMP is an instrument itself. Quite a few of those instruments are computerized and play works all day long that you can enjoy through provided headphones.

As a museum, it was very interactive. Computers and iPads were set up throughout the exhibits so one could casually browse through interviews and tracks at one's own pace. In the upper floors were recording studios where one could record a brief demo tape and small booths where one could take quick instrument lessons from a computer program. In another room more or less closed off by velvet rope, a bouncer, and a door sign that read "Performer Entrance Only" was a stage designed to allow guests to simulate the experience of performing in a live setting (above the door was a television screen showing a man banging gleefully on the drums and a woman pushing random notes on a keyboard). On the lower floor some free classes were offered; I think the art of singing duets was being offered while I was there. In other words, there was plenty to do, enough to take up a few hours.

One of the mechanical guitars.

I spent a substantial amount of time in a theater within the building that showed Jimi Hendrix concert videos on loop - Seattle is very proud to be Hendrix's hometown. I got to see for the first time that 1967 Monterrey show where he burned and smashed his guitar in the most sexually provocative way possible, then tossed the pieces out to the crowd (two of which I saw in the museum's guitar collection). Besides being shocking even now, 45 years later, and beside the presence of a family with small children in the theater watching as well, the experience was emotional for me as someone who has played on that stage with Berkeley High School and seen the spot where it all took place. I guess I always knew it was historical, but it means something so much richer now.

A security guard watches over the upper level of EMP. This art piece was the only thing I managed photos of at EMP.

The next day Steve took me to a park on Bainbridge Island and we walked around either taking pictures (me) or scouring the sand for worn-down shards of glass (him and his wife Lynn). It was a peaceful, uneventful morning, a nice contrast to the rain we heard in the forecast. Instead there were just clouds, beautiful, dazzling clouds ready to eat us all up.

Steve and Lynn, a distant pair of dots, walk down Fay Bainbridge Park.

A tire is batted around my little waves.

On the ferry back into town, the city never seemed so insignificant.

Seattle under the sky.

Seattle above the water.

I think I forgot to adjust my white balance after taking pictures inside the museum, so some of these pictures seem a little too blue for me. Still, it makes the orange of the Space Needle stand out.

I didn't expect to love the Space Needle as much as I did. It was by far my favorite visual of Seattle, despite being a building with no practical purpose. It distinguished Seattle's skyline by on the one hand being of unique construction and on the other by being separate from the rest of the city. As I wrote in part I, Kerry Park Viewpoint is the only landed place in Seattle where the Space Needle appears to be in the downtown area with the rest of Seattle's architecture. As it turns out, the Space Needle isn't even the tallest building in Seattle, although it does have the advantage of being on higher ground. If it were in downtown, it would be lost among the office buildings. It stands out because it stands alone. I found that very attractive.

Finally, I ended the trip by waiting at the zoo for my friends. Having arrived earlier than anticipated, I was able to practice my experimental photography and "round" out my photographic journey that weekend. That is, until my camera battery died.

Psychedelic Zoo!

Like the spinning of a record.

You spin me right round baby, right round.

Working on focusing the center of my whirlpool on something.

And the world spins madly on.

Pine cone pupils.

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