FOLLOW US ON:
GET THE NEWSLETTER
CONTACT US
The badass girl motorcyclists of Morocco
02.11.2014
03:34 pm
Topics:
Tags:

Kesh Angels
Rider
 
I don’t know a lot about these pictures of colorfully dressed Moroccan women posing with their motorcycles, but I sure do love them to bits. They’re the work of Moroccan-born photographer Hassan Hajjaj, and you couldn’t really ask for a better presentation of this material, from the cheeky poses to the arresting frames with colorful food products I can’t identify. The name of the exhibition is Kesh Angels, which runs through March 7 at the Taymour Grahne Gallery in Manhattan.

All the polka dots! It’s as if Yayoi Kusama did the costumes for a Gaspar Noé-directed remake of Al Adamson’s 1972 biker movie Angels’ Wild Women.

Here’s a small gallery of the awesome pics; there’s plenty more at this website.
 
Kesh Angels
LV Posse
 
Kesh Angels
Kesh Angels
 
Kesh Angels
Khadija
 
Kesh Angels
Nisrin
 
Kesh Angels
Nikee Rider
 
Kesh Angels
Kick Start
 
Kesh Angels
Odd 1 Out
 
Kesh Angels
M.
 
Kesh Angels
Romancia
 
via Nerdcore

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Bill Ray’s photos of biker women 1965

Previously on Dangerous Minds:
Bill Ray’s photos of biker women 1965

Posted by Martin Schneider
|
02.11.2014
03:34 pm
|
These are the people our parents warned us about: The ugly truth about hippies and bikers
01.29.2011
04:43 am
Topics:
Tags:

image
 
It’s A Revolution Mother also known as Biker Babylon is a 1968 mondo documentary about bikers, peaceniks and hippies.

The motorcycle club that is the subject of this shocking expose is the New York-based Aliens. Some of the footage looks like it was shot on the Lower East Side near the Hell’s Angels’ headquarters on East Third St. But the Angels are much classier than this lot.

The hippie music fest looks like a low-rent Woodstock as imagined by Herschell Gordon Lewis -2000 Maniacs on acid. It took place somewhere in Florida. There’s no band footage, so it’s hard to tell exactly what festival this was. I guess the film makers didn’t have it in their budget to pay for any music licensing. The mud was free.

Beyond the lurid biker shit and anthropological shots of hippies in their natural habitat (swampland), what makes this ripe chunk of schlock worth watching is the hardboiled prose of the narrator. Sounding like a combination of Sgt. Joe Friday, Philip Marlowe and Raoul Duke, this guy is more fired up than an amphetamine-crazed frog on a hotplate.

Here are some highlights and lowlights from the end of the sixties.
 

Posted by Marc Campbell
|
01.29.2011
04:43 am
|