Endangered Species of Austin unveiled | KXAN.com

Vanishing Austin/Capitol Boots by Jann Alexander (c) 2009

KXAN's Josh Hinkle focuses on Capitol Saddlery's oversize boot to showcase my new poster debut, Endangered Species of Austin (from my Vanishing Austin series) in his on-air piece and online story that aired in conjunction with the poster-signing reception hosted by Austin Fastframe:

Endangered Species of Austin unveiled | KXAN.com

Above, Endangered Species of Austin poster by Jann Alexander (c) 2009

The vivid color poster, printed on quality paper and sized 24 x 36" to fit a ready-made frame, features 16 beloved Austin icons and is available for purchase online at http://VanishingAustin.com/ and around Austin at many local retailers, including AMOA Museum Store, Authenticity Gallery, Austin Visitor's Center, Austin Fastframe North and South locations; also at the Armadillo Christmas Bazaar and the Keep Austin Bizarre Bazaar.

A Rare Treat: an all-art issue from Rare Magazine, featuring Vanishing Austin

Featured in the Art issue of Rare this month, my work (including Vanishing Austin) is in good company with many notable Austin visual and performing artists:

Rare Magazine :: August/September 2009 :: Art

Pictured: 'Vanishing Austin / Frisco Gold' by Jann Alexander (c) 2009

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Making a Clean Getaway

Vanishing Austin / Mr. Clean Gene, soon vanishing from a car wash near you
(c) 2009 Jann Alexander, VanishingAustin.com

Get a wink of the Genies at one of Genie Car Wash's three Austin locations before they wink no more. The local Austin chain has been purchased and the neon Genies will (perhaps appropriately) vanish. (Above, the Genie looks down from the William Cannon Dr. location)

There's no shortage of neon in Austin, and while a lot of it is vanishing right before our very eyes, the talented sign designers at Ion Art keep lighting up our skies by creating new (but like old) icons for our beloved places. I met owners Greg and Sharon Keshishion recently when I exhibited at Art City Austin, where we shared our passion for neon art. Some of the neon they've created, though now gone--like the surfer girls from Lucy's Boatyard--is commemorated in my Vanishing Austin photography series.

Movin' On--Carefully

Vanishing Austin/Movin' On by Jann Alexander, AustinDetails.com

How do you move a neon sign? Especially one that's achieved icon status in Austin?

As it turns out, very carefully.

When the Night Hawk Frisco Shop moved from its original Austin location at Burnet Road and Koenig Lane to new digs a bit south on Burnet Road, of course its original neon had to go along. Above, the crew proudly displays the sign moments after removing it from the distinctive gold stucco home it had known for a half-century.

Austinites love to love the Frisco, and luckily for them, the restaurant's original service, many of the original staff and now the original neon survive in the new location, even if the original menu does not. The funky little gold building, replaced by Walgreen's, may not remain, but the Frisco's motto, "There's nothing accidental about quality," is still practiced daily by a loyal staff and appreciated by an even more loyal clientele.

Vanishing Austin/Movin' On copyright Jann Alexander 2008.

What Would Johnny Say?

That's one Mean-Eyed Cat.

The signs of progress are overtaking the humble little bar on West 5th Street--witness the yellow-clad condo rising in a wink to the bar's star and the explicit spelling of M E A N that dances across its front facade.

I've been photographing the Mean-Eyed Cat ever since I discovered it, about the time it opened, not long after I moved to Austin (as quick as I could). My image, above, Mean Cat Meets Condo is my nod to Johnny Cash (whose song, Mean-Eyed Cat, inspired the bar's name, theme, just about everything except its former chainsaw-repair-shop roots). The environment that once let the dive bar with a lot of local color be just that, a funky dive bar at the end of the tracks, now mimics the song's lyrics "Dear John, honey, baby, I'm long gone."

It might have ended up worse. CMT.com reports that owner Dave Marsh fought the developers who'd planned to raze the building and replace it with condos; once historic designation was finalized, development was planned to work around the Mean-Eyed Cat rather than replace it. Hence, the startling proximity of new v. old, a modern condo that's bound to end up all sleek and hip, in contrast to the once-condemned chainsaw-repair shed that turns out to have some history, after all.

I guess Johnny would be pleased. I know I am, that local color and new development managed to peacefully co-exist.

What's Vanishing Next?

At a much-loved Austin coffee shop on West 6th Street in Clarksville, a young man behind the counter handed me my biscotti, looking on in astonishment at my Vanishing Austin series. "All these places are gone??" he asked, seeming a bit dumbfounded.

"No no no," I told him hastily. "This series of photographs is my take on what Austin stands to lose whenever a new high-rise condo overtakes the old-style artsy Austin buildings with all the charm and funk and personality that these have." (well, I said that more or less.)

He seemed relieved.

"But look," I pointed out. "Already this is gone. And this. This, too." We both looked longingly at the Alamo Drafthouse neon sign that once enlivened the Warehouse District (I called my image Remember the Alamo). And we contemplated the image I called Frisco Gold, where soon Walgreen's would stand in place of the Frisco-Nighthawk's vivid golden orange-roofed home on Burnet Road.

But his face lit up when he saw the one-of-a-kind mural that Marriott would soon raze--painted on the side of the building next to Las Manitas (Avenue Cafe) on Congress. "That Joseph's mural," he explained about the image I call Stylin' High, "I love seeing that mural because that's my name. Joseph."

We both considered this loss solemnly.

He promised to visit my Vanishing Austin blog and post a comment.

Commentary on Cranes and Their Creations

The building cranes loom everywhere in Austin, giving us an unusual skyline these days. It's hard to avoid casting them as characters in my Vanishing Austin photographs. When the snake that graces the east side of Ranch 616 actually seemed to have a reaction to the cranes, that was an image that seemed to embody my concept for my photographic journey through Austin old and new. Its title: Vanishing Austin / Duelling Threats. (Though you gotta wonder who's winning.)

Sometimes it's the tall towers that seem to mock the scale of the architectural ambiance that thrives so far beneath them. Still, I'm rootin' for the little guy--like the Tiniest Bar in Texas. Whose owners say they're makin' a stand, right there amidst all the high-rise action on West 5th Street, in the shadow of the Monarch. Below, Vanishing Austin / Tiny Bar, Tall Tower.

In the Warehouse District, cranes reflect back in the existing high-rises (which are themselves being overtaken by the newer skyscrapers) and provide an artsy backdrop to an older block that still stands. Here's to a fight until the Bitter End (below, Vanishing Austin / Until the Bitter End).