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From the Archive - I Like To Be Smooth, Minneapolis, MNLake Street USA (1997 - 2000)
I love to get my stomach and chest waxed. It makes me laugh. I like the feeling of smoothness against my clothes and raw skin. I just don’t like hair. I like to be smooth. 
The pain almost feels good in a way. It’s like a sexual experience. You want it to happen and you don’t want it to happen. It’s kind of weird. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. One moment it can hurt, and the next moment it can make you laugh.
It’s also kind appetizing to the mind to see all the hair removed. Like when you play Pac Man. You want to get rid of all the little dots. And you can’t stop. Then it kills you.
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From the Archive - I Like To Be Smooth, Minneapolis, MN
Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)

I love to get my stomach and chest waxed. It makes me laugh. I like the feeling of smoothness against my clothes and raw skin. I just don’t like hair. I like to be smooth.

The pain almost feels good in a way. It’s like a sexual experience. You want it to happen and you don’t want it to happen. It’s kind of weird. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. One moment it can hurt, and the next moment it can make you laugh.

It’s also kind appetizing to the mind to see all the hair removed. Like when you play Pac Man. You want to get rid of all the little dots. And you can’t stop. Then it kills you.

    • #Wing Young Huie
    • #Lake Street USA
    • #Documentary Photograpghy
    • #social documentary photography
    • #From the Archive
    • #minneapolis
    • #Waxing
  • 3 days ago
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From the Archive - Suneson Music Center, Minneapolis, MNLake Street USA (1997 - 2000)We have a session here every Saturday morning. Anybody who wants to play is welcome. We sing our songs, which I love to do. I’ve been singing all my life, since I was five years old. Worked down here on Lake Street about 35 years ago. We had little remote radio broadcast. Had a group called the Circle Dot Ranch Boys. I tried to make a living at it for awhile, but it just didn’t work out.When I feel good I’m kind of a nut. I’m kind of crazy and it has got me in a little bit of trouble.  That kind of led to a few things that weren’t too happy for me. But I got off that now. I sing from my soul and heart. There are two songs that when I sing I always break down and cry. One is called “Old Shep.”  It’s about a dog that a person had to shoot. The other is “Be Careful of the Stones You Throw.” Just even talking about it gets to me.I just love to sing that’s all. I’m just the happiest man in the world if I can just sing  somebody’s favorite song for them. I don’t perform anymore. I’d like to get out there again. I’d really like to. I’d sing at any place that would have me, but it just hasn’t come up. So every chance I get I come down here. If I’m singing I’m happy. I’m not singing I’m not happy. That’s my life. Actually it’s about all I live for.
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From the Archive - Suneson Music Center, Minneapolis, MN
Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)

We have a session here every Saturday morning. Anybody who wants to play is welcome. We sing our songs, which I love to do. I’ve been singing all my life, since I was five years old. Worked down here on Lake Street about 35 years ago. We had little remote radio broadcast. Had a group called the Circle Dot Ranch Boys. I tried to make a living at it for awhile, but it just didn’t work out.

When I feel good I’m kind of a nut. I’m kind of crazy and it has got me in a little bit of trouble.  That kind of led to a few things that weren’t too happy for me. But I got off that now. I sing from my soul and heart. There are two songs that when I sing I always break down and cry. One is called “Old Shep.”  It’s about a dog that a person had to shoot. The other is “Be Careful of the Stones You Throw.” Just even talking about it gets to me.

I just love to sing that’s all. I’m just the happiest man in the world if I can just sing  somebody’s favorite song for them. I don’t perform anymore. I’d like to get out there again. I’d really like to. I’d sing at any place that would have me, but it just hasn’t come up. So every chance I get I come down here. If I’m singing I’m happy. I’m not singing I’m not happy. That’s my life. Actually it’s about all I live for.

    • #Wing Young Huie
    • #From the Archive
    • #Minneapolis
    • #Lake Street USA
    • #Country Music
  • 1 month ago
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From the Archive - Corcoran Park, South Minneapolis, MN, Lake Street USA 1997 - 2000
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From the Archive - Corcoran Park, South Minneapolis, MN, Lake Street USA 1997 - 2000

    • #From the Archive
    • #Wing Young Huie
    • #Lake Street USA
    • #Minneapolis
    • #Corcoran Park
  • 1 month ago
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Changing Lenses is the product of an ongoing conversation between eminent sociologist Doug Hartmann, Ph.D. and myself. In each post, we exchange what’s seen behind a camera lens and what’s seen through a sociological lens to get at the diversity of perspectives and cultivate a unique look at the human experience. Below is my perspective. Read Doug’s reaction here.
—
Big Geno and Little Geno, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)
When photographing I try to present people as they present themselves and let viewers form their own narratives. A photograph, however, is just a snippet of that person. If you took a thousand photographs of someone, which photograph would be truest? And who decides the truth about any photograph—the person in it, the person who took it, or the person looking at it? 
You never know how a photograph will be interpreted. I have photographs that seem innocuous to me that instill fear in someone else. This photograph of a man and his dog, though, often gets a visceral reaction. Recently an installation of about 50 photographs from my Lake Street USA series that included this one was being permanently installed in a public building. We laid them out along the wall deciding which ones should go where.
Perhaps because the scandal concerning Michal Vick, the professional football player whose abuse of fighting dogs was still fresh in the public’s consciousness, or perhaps because I’ve become more cautious in what photographs I deem proper to show in public settings, I voiced that this one might cause trouble. A few moments later an African American man walked by and became upset at what he saw. “This is really offensive to me,” he blurted. “This only perpetuates what people already think of us.” We ended up putting the photograph in a basement room that is less trafficked. 
Here’s an excerpt from an interview I conducted with the person in the photograph:“This is little Geno. I’m big Geno. He’s going to be a security dog. I’m going to take my time with him. I’m just trying to get his neck to be strong. The chain is to put muscles in his chest. Right now he’s young. As he gets old he’ll get used to it. 
“Once he sees me with it he know he’s got to put it on. At first he didn’t want to have it on, but now he’s used to it. It’s not being abusive. You can train a dog how you want to train a dog, just like a child. You can raise a child up to cuss out grown people. You know, you just raise your dog just the way you want to be raised up. That’s all that is.”
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Changing Lenses is the product of an ongoing conversation between eminent sociologist Doug Hartmann, Ph.D. and myself. In each post, we exchange what’s seen behind a camera lens and what’s seen through a sociological lens to get at the diversity of perspectives and cultivate a unique look at the human experience. Below is my perspective. Read Doug’s reaction here.

—

Big Geno and Little Geno, Minneapolis, Minnesota

Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)

When photographing I try to present people as they present themselves and let viewers form their own narratives. A photograph, however, is just a snippet of that person. If you took a thousand photographs of someone, which photograph would be truest? And who decides the truth about any photograph—the person in it, the person who took it, or the person looking at it?

You never know how a photograph will be interpreted. I have photographs that seem innocuous to me that instill fear in someone else. This photograph of a man and his dog, though, often gets a visceral reaction. Recently an installation of about 50 photographs from my Lake Street USA series that included this one was being permanently installed in a public building. We laid them out along the wall deciding which ones should go where.

Perhaps because the scandal concerning Michal Vick, the professional football player whose abuse of fighting dogs was still fresh in the public’s consciousness, or perhaps because I’ve become more cautious in what photographs I deem proper to show in public settings, I voiced that this one might cause trouble. A few moments later an African American man walked by and became upset at what he saw. “This is really offensive to me,” he blurted. “This only perpetuates what people already think of us.” We ended up putting the photograph in a basement room that is less trafficked.

Here’s an excerpt from an interview I conducted with the person in the photograph:
“This is little Geno. I’m big Geno. He’s going to be a security dog. I’m going to take my time with him. I’m just trying to get his neck to be strong. The chain is to put muscles in his chest. Right now he’s young. As he gets old he’ll get used to it.

“Once he sees me with it he know he’s got to put it on. At first he didn’t want to have it on, but now he’s used to it. It’s not being abusive. You can train a dog how you want to train a dog, just like a child. You can raise a child up to cuss out grown people. You know, you just raise your dog just the way you want to be raised up. That’s all that is.”

    • #From the Archive
    • #Minneapolis
    • #Wing Young Huie
    • #changing lenses
    • #lake street usa
    • #society pages
    • #dog
    • #puppy
    • #Guard dog
  • 2 months ago
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From the Archive - The Diner, Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)
We had been married for about ten years when we opened the restaurant in November of ‘50. We separated several months later. She’s been working for me ever since. She does all the cooking. We’re both remarried. We always got along. 
I’ve worked seven days a week for fifty years. I’ve never taken a day off. I eat all my meals here. I like to work. For fun I like to go dancing. 
I used to work in a lumberyard. I made the restaurant out of a garage, added doors and just kept adding on. I worked on the railroads for 38 and a half years. I was retired, on a pension, when I decided to open. Didn’t know anything about the restaurant business. 
I only planned to keep it for about three months and then sell it. I named it the Diner because when I sold it the new owner could then just add their name, like Harvey’s Diner. But I kinda liked it, so I never did sell.
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From the Archive - The Diner, Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)

We had been married for about ten years when we opened the restaurant in November of ‘50. We separated several months later. She’s been working for me ever since. She does all the cooking. We’re both remarried. We always got along.

I’ve worked seven days a week for fifty years. I’ve never taken a day off. I eat all my meals here. I like to work. For fun I like to go dancing.

I used to work in a lumberyard. I made the restaurant out of a garage, added doors and just kept adding on. I worked on the railroads for 38 and a half years. I was retired, on a pension, when I decided to open. Didn’t know anything about the restaurant business.

I only planned to keep it for about three months and then sell it. I named it the Diner because when I sold it the new owner could then just add their name, like Harvey’s Diner. But I kinda liked it, so I never did sell.

    • #From the Archive
    • #Diner
    • #Lake Street USA
    • #Elderly
    • #Restaurant
    • #south minneapolis
  • 3 months ago
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From the Archive - Uptown Parade, Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)
Every photograph is a self-portrait in some way, reflecting both the person who took it and the person looking at it.
How often do you feel that you are part of what surrounds you? When do you feel apart? I like the moments when both seem true.
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From the Archive - Uptown Parade, Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)

Every photograph is a self-portrait in some way, reflecting both the person who took it and the person looking at it.

How often do you feel that you are part of what surrounds you? When do you feel apart? I like the moments when both seem true.

    • #Uptown
    • #Wing Young Huie
    • #asian-american
    • #lake street usa
    • #male
    • #parade
    • #From the Archive
  • 4 months ago
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Every Wednesday (round midnight) I will post a photo culled from my 35 year, film-based archive. Although many will be from projects that have been published or exhibited, some have never seen the light of day. I’m not sure how many tens of thousands of negatives I have stored in boxes and three-ring binders, but most have not been digitized. As of yet, I still shoot with a 35mm Contax Aria and a 645 Mamiya. I have not, as they say, gone digital. 
—
From the Archive - Laotian Funeral, Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)
I was walking through a Lake Street neighborhood when I saw several monks coming out of a house. I asked if I could photograph and spent the rest of the day experiencing several elaborate stages of a Laotian funeral service that started at the home of the deceased, which overflowed with mourners, and then proceeded to a funeral home nearby.
These young boys, relatives of the family, were novice, or temporary monks, chosen just for the funeral service. They shaved their head, eyebrows, and facial hair, training for two days with ten commandments to follow. Senior monks have 227.
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Every Wednesday (round midnight) I will post a photo culled from my 35 year, film-based archive. Although many will be from projects that have been published or exhibited, some have never seen the light of day. I’m not sure how many tens of thousands of negatives I have stored in boxes and three-ring binders, but most have not been digitized. As of yet, I still shoot with a 35mm Contax Aria and a 645 Mamiya. I have not, as they say, gone digital.

—

From the Archive - Laotian Funeral, Lake Street USA (1997 - 2000)

I was walking through a Lake Street neighborhood when I saw several monks coming out of a house. I asked if I could photograph and spent the rest of the day experiencing several elaborate stages of a Laotian funeral service that started at the home of the deceased, which overflowed with mourners, and then proceeded to a funeral home nearby.

These young boys, relatives of the family, were novice, or temporary monks, chosen just for the funeral service. They shaved their head, eyebrows, and facial hair, training for two days with ten commandments to follow. Senior monks have 227.

    • #Laotian
    • #Wing Young Huie
    • #asian-american
    • #funeral
    • #lake street usa
    • #monks
    • #youth
    • #From the Archive
  • 4 months ago
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About

(k)now is a blog by Wing Young Huie that blends three projects:

(1) “We are the Other” is new work presented as a serialized photographic novel that infuses several concepts to connect people who don’t know each other well or at all. (New scene every Sunday round midnight.)

(2) “From the Archive” features work from Wing’s vast film-based archive, much of which has never seen the light of day, often coupled with commentary. (New post every Wednesday round midnight.)

(3) “Changing Lenses” is an ongoing conversation with eminent sociologist Doug Hartmann that explores the intersection between photography and sociology.

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