Conflict journalist Christian Poveda killed

Journalism lost one of its most courageous members earlier this month (via Lightstalkers): Photojournalist-turned-filmmaker Christian Poveda was murdered in El Salvador last week, possibly by the same gang he famously documented in last year's "La Vida Loca."

Poveda was found dead with gunshots to the head on the outskirts of San Salvador, near a slum where he'd infiltrated and documented the Mara 18, chief rivals to the Mara "MS-13" Salvatrucha down in the homeland. True, he could have chosen a more original name, and yes, the work covers fairly predictable (albeit wholly fascinating) fare -- gnarly facial tats, drug use and distribution, hookers, ultra-violent children. But Poveda succeeded where some had failed and many more had feared to venture in the first place. Born in Algeria to Spanish parents who raised him in France, Poveda gained his first exposure to El Salvador as a photographer covering the devastating civil war for Time in the early 1980s (a 12-year conflict whose atrocities were exacerbated by a little good ole covert Amurrican intervention and whose destabilizing effect helped bring about the emergence of the Maras and other powerful, barrio-governing gangs). He returned a decade later with a video camera and no obligation to present his work sans motif.

It's trite to revert to the "died doing what he loved" platitude, but in this case, it's absolutely applicable: Poveda was returning from shooting more gangland footage when he was slain. Regardless of whether his killers were Mara 18 members unhappy with their portrayal, MS-13 guys unhappy with their chief rival's increased exposure, government operatives in need of a martyr to force the politicians to provide more anti-crime funding, or the proverbial Man on the Grassy Knoll, Poveda lived his passion, his life's cause, to the end. And for that he deserves our greatest respect and, sadly now, our remembrance.

On a side note, Poveda's self-styled brand of photojournalism -- entrenching himself in communities on the periphery of acceptable society for long stretches, befriending fringe characters, and generally pissing off assigning editors under pressure to keep down costs -- is nicely summarized by a former collaborator here.

Lenny's Down!

The man-boy who bragged last fall (while chewing on a gob of Twizzlers for dramatic effect, mind you) that one of the myriad entities suing him had "folded like Mitch Williams in the ninth" in settlement negotiations has pulled the ultimate fiscal implosion: Lenny Dykstra is bankrupt.

Dykstra's well-documented rise from scumbag athlete to Wall Street darling for bored bankers in desperate need of cocktail party fodder begs a number of questions:

a.) Why does anyone listen to Jim Cramer anymore? Or, more accurately, why did anyone listen to Jim Cramer up until Jon Stewart reduced him to a blubbering, goateed effigy for financial media's rather long shortcomings during the subprime buildup and collapse?

b.) Who brings Twizzlers to a closed-door meeting in a federal courthouse? During which hundreds of thousands of dollars are at stake? "Ashtray money" aside, Lenny either planned out his Twizzler feast hours in advance and stashed the goods in his briefcase, pockets, underwear and/or socks, or employs an assistant whose sole duty as such is to keep Mr. Dykstra with Twizzler-in-hand at all times. "Where's my fucking Twizzler brick, dude? I didn't hire you and buy probably one of the top-five most badass Twizzler briefcases around for you to carry everywhere I go and not open and give me Twizzlers LIKE NOW!!!!"

More to come, without a doubt, sooner or later, but hopefully frequently for the rest of our natural lives.

The Moss impact on Culver City

Culver City is experiencing a major re-development at present, spearheaded and contributed to by architect and SCI-Arc Director Eric Owen Moss. Mr. Moss and his team of 25 at Eric Owen Moss Architects have dubbed the revitalization Conjunctive Points, and have and continue to work on more than 20 projects in Culver City, many of which are located on Hayden Street alone. Known for unique interpretations and a diversity of form, Moss' varied projects fortify Culver City's hefty reputation as a community teeming with arts. Pictured above are the Ince Office Complex and a city-sponsored Architecture as Art public artwork entitled What Wall. Pictured here is a rendering of the Gateway Art Tower, an "information tower" and office building, constructed at the corner of Hayden and National, marking the primary entry point into the revitalized zone of the city. The building includes 5 screens that advertise messages to passersby pertaining to local tenants' events and news. Another of the Architecture as Art public art works, the Beehive, occupies the front section of a two story office building housing medschool.com.

Finally, this image depicts 3535 Hayden Ave, a unified working environment for a high profile graphics company.

California Love Redux

Something led us to that old Dr. Dre/Tupac "California Love" video the other day -- you know, the apocalyptic one where they're running around in rags and ramshackle Hummers, all early Gibson-like? We couldn't help but admire the stylistic shout-outs (ha! get it? hip-hop reference) they squeeze in there: Aside from the obvious overriding Mad Max trilogy theme, the video opens with vintage Chris Tucker doing his 5th Element thing (you know, the outerspace-crackhead schtick he used to land more lucrative gigs playing comic relief to Jackie Chan's unintentional straight man) and is followed with a scene lifted from The Warriors before descending into full Road Warrior mode; this later tiptoes quietly into Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome territory when they move to sweeping aerial shots of the stars rapping inside a, yes, Thunderdome. The whole video's simply fantastic, but why waste it on "California Love?" I know Australian apocalypse-themed jams don't usually chart, but still: "California Love" is one of the few songs that actually warrants your classic mid-90s rap video -- you know, 64s, Cristal, ladies in thongs, egregious materialism, guest spots by other definitively regional rappers. 

What's that you say? Oh.