Maria Andersson
On heroes, and privilege and postage stamps
“Most of my heroes don’t appear on no stamps.” — Public Enemy, Fight the Power
This is a story of heroes. And privilege. And yes, postage stamps. I’d been looking for a way to tell this one, and get out a couple of thoughts along the way. As is often the case, music and a shower helped tie it all together. In this particular case soundtracked by a playlist created by one of my actual heroes, whom we’ll meet later.
We will start with Public Enemy which will tie it all together.
Fight the Power was followed by the Kinks’ Celluloid Heroes. Which includes the lines, “Some that you recognize, some that you've hardly even heard of; people who worked and suffered and struggled for fame; some who succeeded and some who suffered in vain”
I’ve been thinking about heroes and privilege a lot lately as I write these stories. Many of them are stories I’ve told in largely the same way since I lived them, which in many cases was in my teens and 20s. Looking back, though, I see them from a somewhat, but not entirely, different perspective. I think I always understood what a privilege it was to be in positions to meet my heroes. Or to be able to put myself in positions to meet my heroes. But I think I understand privilege with more nuance now. Although I’m still working on that.
The first header for these essays that I put together was quickly done with Midjourney, which made a decent photo of David Bowie for me. Of course it makes more sense to have more than just Bowie, and obviously to use my own photos. I created that and looked at my little Mt. Rushmore and realized that, like the monument itself, my heroes are predominantly men, and white men at that.
Allow me to step back a moment and define some terms for this project.
Meeting: I value personal connections and the stories that come from them. That’s true of the people who have inspired me, and even now of the products I buy (e.g. What the Future: Manufacturing). I think that’s somewhat genetic as I think back to being taken to a Garfield book signing with Jim Davis as a kid. If you can meet someone and have that connection, however brief, it brings a different level of appreciation to something. So when I say “meet” in these stories it’s about having a connection of some sort. In some cases they’re ongoing relationships. In some cases they’re fleeting moments. In some cases they’re virtual, like a phone conversation. In the case of Keanu I didn’t actually ‘meet’ him. So I’m drawing the lines broadly to tell the stories I want to tell.
Heroes: I’m drawing this broadly, too. These are people who have inspired me and I’ve learned from. I believe you can learn from anyone, anytime. And you should. Some of them are people I have long admired for who they are, or what they do, or the way they do it. Some are people I met for a moment. They got me to think about something differently. Or the encounter makes for a good story. They’re all flawed as people are. Mostly not in ways that take away from the things they have created or done. I hope. I’ll admit I haven’t researched all of them fully, and not entirely in the context of today.
I don’t necessarily want to be like them. I don’t necessarily think they are all “role models” whatever that means today.
They’re not traditional heroes like presidents or generals or first responders. They’re mostly creators of some sort. As this project progresses we’ll get into why that is. The answer is basically wrapped up in the other word in the title. They are my heroes. For the reasons I’ll explain. As the Kinks said, some you’ll recognize, some you will have hardly even heard of. That’s Ok. Fame and heroics are funny that way. I’ll be glad to introduce you along the way.
Which brings us finally to the story of meeting Maria Andersson. I want to tell more stories of encounters with non- white-dudes. And explore as I go forward why I don’t have more of those stories to tell. Some of my heroes have appeared on stamps. Or at least they look like the people who have traditionally appeared on stamps in a way that Chuck D’s heroes don’t.
One story I was trying to figure out how to tell here is about meeting Maria Andersson. She’s not a hero of mine, per se. She has, however, appeared on a stamp. She’s the singer of a Swedish band called the Sahara Hotnights. I shot them at Metro when they opened for the Mooney Suzuki, posted the photos on rocknroll.net and then kinda forgot about them until I got a really random email from the Swedish postal service.
I’ve had my photos used in magazines, newspapers, web sites. They’ve appeared in books and on TV and a CD cover or two. Perhaps the most unique, however, is that my photo of Maria was used as the basis for an etching done for a Swedish postage stamp.
It was part of a series they issued about the history of rocknroll. The heart of the series an Elvis stamp. I get how ironic that is given that I started this piece with Fight the Power.
Anyway, they also wanted to celebrate Swedish bands and, I suspect, not just male ones. Sahara Hotnights were getting some attention at the time and so they got included. I’ll never know how my photo was selected for the basis of the stamp, but it was one of the highest amounts I was ever paid for a single-license of one of my images.
When the band came back around (opening fellow Swedes, the Hives), I was glad to meet Maria and the others after the show. The stamp wasn’t even out yet so they were a little confused by my request: I had them all sign a blank envelope. I later affixed the stamp and framed it alongside the original photo.
Personal connections. People who inspire. Good stories, hopefully well told. Lessons learned. Perspectives examined and even reexamined. That’s what this project is all about. I’ll be honest, I’m doing it largely for myself. But I’m deeply appreciative that some of you want to come along for the ride.
Feel free to share these if you like. We’re just getting started.
Holy cats! On a stamp! (And not just a 2cent, ala Fargo). That’s amazing.