One of the more vital elements of rave culture lies in the way it transforms space. The most hotly sought areas have always been warehouses, shopping malls, old churches, and other arenas that, and here is the important word, obviously serve other masters in the light of day. These are the parties that are remembered. And it distinguishes raves from clubs. Ravers feel a bit dismal at clubs because, come on, they were built for the purpose of dancing. There's nothing revolutionary there. The quality of a party can be in some sense determined by how far from the original use of space a production company can go. Obtaining and transforming space is the essence of the scene.

The first photograph in the series necessitates close examination. It begins the metamorphosis of what could be passed by easily as a place other than a greasy patch for parking cars. As the series progresses, the garage converts more thoroughly into something else, is pushed further and further from its original state. Flags become anti-props. Brooms are still-reeling implements of transition. An illusion of sophistication sets in - which illustrates the plasticity of the term. The costumes contrast with and create a new reality. Energy rises. And, eventually the original scene is forgotten entirely; some never knew it. And thus, the butterfly emerges.

But that is not all. Every rave is refreshed by exit. Cinderella is seen for her cinders again. After it is all over, people leave through garage doors and glance back on that which holds back the paradox inside: black, corroded steel, bruised brick, and a faded sign that reads a yellow page appeal. The secret is safe.

Labels: Photos, Raves