-
2:50AM WHERE ARE MY FEET captures the eerie calm of a place that’s never truly still, except right now. It’s nearly 3 a.m. on a Tuesday. The stars on the Walk of Fame shine, wet, underneath the glaze of streetlights. My shoes, my visual anchor, once again make an appearance. Looking down, I say to myself, where are my feet? A brief pause and I’m grounded, in the moment, able to appreciate the quiet, calm and unusually clean Boulevard. It’s all me, minus the people in the SUV that pulls up to hit the liquor store.
Across the boulevard, a wall blasted with graffiti is tagged with faded remnants, some throw-up’s, a handful of weak pieces, all of it dissed by 18th Street, the few unreachable throw up’s still stand (CANS -MTA got up). This is the natural cycle of LA’s visual underworld: something loud, something temporary, something about to disappear.
The storefronts, CVS, Target, LA Fitness, Subway all glow with quiet utility, hollow at this hour. A glance to the right, there it is, David Copperfield’s star etched into the sidewalk, the only name visible in the entire shot. From his perch the Target dog sees it all, palm trees swaying above a place where many have overdosed, slept and stared back from the shadows.
This is a version of Hollywood only seen by a few locals and no tourists. At that moment it was just me and the Target dog, man’s best friend, my best friend, both of us enjoying the silence. With a quick nod to my trusted companion as I move on, make my way down the street and slip into the early morning darkness.
-
“Jake Williams captures a moment not meant to be seen, Hollywood stripped of its crowd, its pitch, its theater. The result is cinematic in the truest sense: a long, quiet tracking shot across memory and asphalt.
The artist’s recurring presence, his shoes at the edge of frame, gives the viewer a point of emotional entry. They say: I was here. I walked this street when it had nothing left to say.
The absence of people becomes the most powerful character. Fame becomes just another font on the sidewalk. Graffiti becomes more honest than marketing. And the silence, well, the silence roars.
Williams doesn’t mourn what this place is or was. He records it with reverence, like a documentarian walking the beat of his own late-night thoughts.”
-B.B.