Monthly Archives: February 2005

Cat Show Confidential

Cat Show Confidential

By Ed Reynolds

February 10, 2005

“Of course not!” shrieked a woman from Atlanta when asked if her cat traveled as cargo when flying to feline shows around the country. “I keep him in a cage beneath my seat on the plane!” she indignantly explained, recoiling in horror that some insensitive soul would ask such a question. The occasion for the shocking query was the 34th annual Cat Fanciers’ Association Cat Show at the BJCC South Exhibition Hall on January 29 and 30. It was my initiation into the world of pampered cats, and before the afternoon was over, I would make the acquaintance of people who purchase plane tickets for their pets.

Approximately one hundred cats and their doting owners patiently waited to be summoned to the judging area. Persians, Himalayans (a couple of fanciers engaged in a lively debate concerning whether Persians are Himalayans or Himalayans are Persians), Egyptian short hairs with big eyes, Oriental shorthairs with long, protruding faces, Somalis, Birmans, Sphynxes (hairless cats that are “so ugly they’re cute”), basset-hound-size Maine Coons, shorthair Russian Blues, and the outlawed Singapuras all lounged in their cages with complete disregard for curious observers. Each cage was partially covered with materials distinctive to the owner’s personality; some cats resided beneath pink chiffon; others glanced with boredom from cascades of gold lamé; a British flag covered a British shorthair’s cage, while a Somali from the Gunsmoke Cattery (a cattery is defined as an establishment for the breeding and boarding of cats) peered from a cage draped in mock blue denim adorned with tiny guns and cowboy boots. “I just like old westerns,” the cattery owner explained.

The unforgivable sin at cat shows is to touch the animals. Warning signs urge the curious to back off: “I Do Not Bite But My Owner Does” and “Hands Off! This Cat Insured by Smith & Wesson!” Some have name plates attached to the cages: “Hello, my name is Johnny Cash.” The owner affirmed that, yes, there once was a June Carter in the family, but she was Johnny Cash the cat’s late sister. His mother was Loretta Lynn, and there were a couple of other siblings named Hank Williams and Crystal Gayle.

/editorial/2005-02-10/VIC_Cat._RT.jpg
shadow
(click for larger version)

The outlawed Singapura (Malaysian for Singapore), recently declared a national treasure in Singapore, has been banned from exportation. The breed is smaller than the average shorthair cat, with incredibly large, Martian-like eyes and a disposition to interact with humans (a characteristic that earned it the nickname “pesky people cat”). Singapuras are the only known breed of which two non-neutered males can coexist without conflict.

A Maine Coon named Jordy was the show-stealer. An unbelievably large animal, Jordy looks as though he belongs in a zoo instead of a cat show. Weighing in at a whopping 22 pounds, the cat shed four pounds after going on the “Catkins diet,” according to his Miami owner, who put the cat on the diet not only due to health concerns, but also because it was getting difficult to fit him into the cage on the judging stand. Judges wave feathers in the face of each feline to examine a cat’s personality, among other traits. Jordy merely stared at the feather, then turned his gaze to other cats waiting their turns.

Clare Hames of the Birmingham Feline Fanciers, coordinator for the household pet division of the cat show, explained the feather-teasing by the judges. “They’re trying to make the cat play,” explained Hames. “Most household pets are not used to getting out and going to a show. So [the judges] are trying to play with it. Now as far as the purebred, they’re doing that because most purebreds will play, but they’re also trying to notice anything else they need to. Purebreds are judged by things like color, or they can’t have a kink in their tail. Persian cats’ noses are supposed to be smushed a certain way, things like that.”

In the perpetual cats-versus-dogs debate regarding intelligence, Hames, who owns both, admitted that she would have to side with cats. “Cats are much more demanding. A cat has a set schedule, while a dog has a schedule that goes along with yours. A cat wants things its way or not at all.”

Dead Folks 2005, Photographers

Dead Folks 2005, Photographers

A look back at the notable names and personalities who called it quits last year.

February 24, 2005

Richard Avedon

/editorial/2005-02-24/D_Henri_Bresson_CTR.jpg
shadow
“Sunday by the River Marne, France, 1938″ by Henri Cartier-Bresson (click for larger version)


Summing up Avedon’s career, someone fairly nailed it when they said, “Although his work could be unflattering, at times brutally honest, there was never a shortage of subjects willing to be photographed.” Working at first for Harper’s Bazaar and then Vogue, it was Avedon’s idea to eschew careful lighting, delicate compositions, and choreographed poses in favor of rather drastic authenticity. Photography should be directed by the artist’s vision and not the subject, or so went his theory. It was a groundbreaking, phenomenally successful exercise in style over finesse, and the obvious physical flaws he captured seemed not to disturb his subjects, who might be pop stars, writers, social butterflies, the super rich, or someone famous for being famous. And then there were the supermodels.

Avedon was also the visual consultant for the film Funny Face, the story of a fashion photographer and his muse starring Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn (two guesses as to whom that movie was based on). Avedon also published award-winning collections of his unique coverage of the Civil Rights movement, the Vietnam War, and the Trial of the Chicago Seven. For an unflinching visual tour of that tumultuous era, Avedon the Sixties is a required study.—David Pelfrey

/editorial/2005-02-24/D_Richard_Avedon_CTR.jpg
shadow
Richard Avedon (click for larger version)

Helmut Newton

No doubt about it, Newton turned most of us into Charlotte Rampling fans, and he did so with a single shot. That’s Charlotte, the lithe, ice-cold goddess reclining on the big desk. In the nude. She’s extremely appealing and scary as hell, which seems to be the general theme in Newton’s work. His photographs were quick, disturbing glances into the realm of bondage, sadomasochism, rough trade, voyeurism, and unbridled decadence. Something very naughty or very dangerous (or both) seemed to be taking place, but being mere glances, these shots only suggest narratives rather than provide them. Even in his more straightforward shots of scantily-clad über-babes, Newton seamlessly meshes glamour with sleaze, at least implying that there’s a sordid backstory for every image. Further analysis of Newton’s photography is superfluous. If ever anyone crafted pictures worth a thousand words (the kind of words appropriate for a locked diary, a criminal investigation, or a Velvet Underground song), Newton certainly did. —D.P.


Eddie Adams

/editorial/2005-02-24/D_Helmut_Newton_CTR.jpg
shadow
Helmut Newton (click for larger version)


A Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist and combat photographer, Adams’ (71) snapshot of a South Vietnamese officer shooting a Viet Cong infiltrator in the head from two feet away was one of the war’s more riveting images. The photographer defended the South Vietnamese Brigadier General’s contention that the Viet Cong had murdered a friend, his wife, and six children, insisting that anyone would react the same way in retribution. Adams’ images of Vietnamese boat people, refugees who were turned away when seeking asylum in neighboring countries, prompted the United States to accept up to 200,000 refugees. “I wasn’t out to save the world,” Adams once said. “I was out to get a story.” Adams covered 13 wars. —Ed Reynolds