Really wanted to be a painter, I really wanted to be a rock star.
My career ended up giving me the chance to be neither of these things – and both. I take photographs. Mostly of musicians. It’s a pretty good life, for the most part. Assuming you don’t have any qualms about setting up cameras in a graveyard at midnight. Or being surrounded by 300 angry scorpions who don’t want to be in a studio. Or trying to keep a singer’s energy level up when she’s just come off a seven-month world tour with the worst case of dysentery in recorded history. All in a day’s work.
Think of me as an innocent bystander
There was no master plan. No carefully tended career path. I loved rock and punk music. I saw things. Puzzles intrigued me. Bugs and lizards and creepy crawly things fascinated me. Influences possessed me. There had to be a way to put it all together… and those girls in the clubs who were all presence, black leather and kohl eyeliner…
Need I say more?
Actually, I probably do. Because what you’re about to experience is the summation – to date – of a life’s work, mostly in and for the music business. These pictures represent the world as I’ve seen it, lived it, breathed it, touched it and especially loved it.
Apparently, even a jet-setting photographer needs a hobby.
John Scarpati has taken to scouring old Hollywood studio supply warehouses in search of restoration worthy movie lights. Scarpati favors lights by famed makers Bardwell & McAlister and Mole Richardson. Utilizing only models produced between the 1920s and 1960’s, each is a one-of-a-kind original, complete with period accurate stand. The patina on these things is as good as it gets. Complete with new wiring, and a fresh bulb socket, the lights are 100% suitable for home use. Scarpati offers access to his lovingly restored, authentic, Hollywood movie lights from his Etsy shop. Each light is the real deal. Made with old-school industrial quality, they were meant to serve as serious tools, having spent decades on southern California soundstages and movie locations.
