Alissa Anderson essay

Every generation has its band photographers, on hand to document the epic parties, hallmark concerts and candid behind-the-scenes moments. Today, photographer Alissa Anderson assumes a dual role, at once documentarian and active participant. Her position as friend, collaborator and partner to many of her subjects create a comfort in the space where the image is captured. The results range from casual freedom to emotional intensity. Her photographs are diaristic, each with a personal story attached. When viewed as a collection, they not only unveil a history of Bay Area music, but also for Alissa they comprise a family album, made up of interconnected characters.

In selecting images for the show at Triple Base, we perused endless rows of envelopes filled with images from weddings, art openings, rock shows and tours. Alissa does not separate her art photography from her everyday snapshots. It is from this vast collection that we discovered a reoccurring focus on shoes, hands, instruments and set lists; the non-facial characteristics that can also create a portrait of a musician. Alissa captured this unintentional "series" of photographs with her 35 millimeter point-and-shoot camera. Many photos were taken at dive bars, house parties and warehouses in the early 2000s – a time when the creative energy and D.I.Y. spirit in the city was palpable.

While indie bands like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were getting mainstream attention in New York, San Francisco was playing the underdog (as is usually the case in the arenas of art and music.) The players only pushed harder to create a self-sustaining network of friends and fans. While this second-city identity could be viewed as a hindrance, it is also perpetuated from within, as it serves to protect the closeness of the community that it fosters. This independent spirit still exists today, however the rise to international popularity of some musicians from the area such as Devendra Banhart, Joanna Newsom and Alissa’s band Vetiver proves that San Francisco does not exist in a bubble.

Alissa’s more formal portraits of musicians like Becky Stark (Lavender Diamond), Guy Blakeslee (Entrance) and Rob Lowe (Lichens) represent a period of growth. Over the last few years, while on tour with Vetiver and Banhart, Alissa was meeting like-minded musicians that shared a common attitude towards their music rather than a musical style. From punk to folk to funk, they all approach their musical practice with total sincerity and devotion. It is this authenticity, acutely captured in her portraits that Alissa finds magnetic. The eyes of her subjects project an earnestness that pierces through Alissa’s familiar lens.

Alissa recalls when Devendra Banhart once commented that they should call their group of friends “The Family.” Though the term didn't seem quite right (after all, Manson’s cult went by the same name), perhaps the idea was not so far-fetched. All of the friends in Alissa’s endless rows of envelopes and in her formal portraits are shot with affection, as if recording one’s family members for posterity. Alissa’s urgency is present in each of her photographs. She told me that she doesn’t decide to bring out her camera, she has to decide not to. Alissa’s impulse to photograph her self-made family is as natural as the musician’s drive to play their instruments. In Alissa’s words “I take pictures first and figure out what to do with them later.”

-Dina Pugh, Curator