Welcome Home. We have been driving across California and Nevada since midnight. The sun came up about a half hour ago, and five minutes ago, we turned off Nevada state highway 34 onto the road into Black Rock City. I shot this picture (and many others, far blurrier and not included here) while driving. We are nearing the entrance gates to the event.
We have passed through the security checkpoint, where Black Rock Rangers take your ticket and search your vehicle, and are headed towards everyone’s favorite people: the Greeters. The Greeters are playful and joyous, and all Burners go through a period where they want to be a Greeter someday. Why? Because the Greeters spend their days interacting with the absolute happiest people on the planet: people arriving at Burning Man. People Coming Home.
Having dealt with the Greeters — and having neglected to shoot a pic of ‘em — we look back at more happy arrivals. The person in the very center of the shot is ringing a rather loud bell. Black Rock City has a few traditions, and this is one of ‘em: If it’s your first Burn, ya gotta ring the bell and shout out that you’re a Virgin.
This was my home this year. Stuffed under my little shade structure here, I’ve got a tent, two coolers, a table, a stove, a lantern, a couple of chairs, and a boombox. There’s carpet in front of the tent. That’s my bike there, showing a few remnants of the previous night’s glow-sticked-spokes setup, which is just another thing on the list of Things I Foolishly Forgot To Photograph This Year. It was killer, believe me. The large dome behind where my crew made camp took our neighbors all week to build. At one point they brought in a crane.
Time to strike out onto the playa and see some art. I don’t know why, but I just loved the Sunrise Saloon, even though I never went there during business hours. According to this year’s What-Where-When (the schedule-ish publication the Greeters give you on arrival), drinks were served here every morning at sunrise. (I was only up at sunrise once during the week, and I was headed home to go to bed, not out to get a drink.)
One of the big draws on the open playa this year was Dicky, who lived in this glass-walled box all week. He had a bed and a desk and a little curtain he could hide behind when it was time to crap in a chemical john. A generator provided some power to cool (or perhaps “circulate” is a better word?) the air in Dicky’s box. Dicky himself would speak to visitors through some holes in one of the walls. In the conversations I overheard, Dicky was detached and uninteresting, and I was pretty much done with him after my first visit.
This was a device called The Machine. You’ll see some people gathered round The Machine’s outgrowths on the right and left side. They’re grabbing onto long wood paddles and turning ‘em in order to make The Machine’s innards (a mess of gears and such) move. Over time — we’re talking a period of many-many hours, with enough human energy expended, the “arms” of The Machine would move up and down. Or was it only imperceptibly upward all week? I was never quite sure.
This is “Mother and Child,” my favorite installation of the year.
I liked the way the colossal, dark, looming figures of Mother and Child disappeared into and reappeared amidst the playa’s dust storms.
Mother and Child, from the front. To me, it is central to the meaning of the piece that they are walking away from the Man, leaving him behind.
Here he is at last — the Man! (Notice the people standing on the raised platform beneath the large eye at his feet. The next few shots are from that vantage point.)
Looking up at this year’s Man.
The eye at the feet of the Man.
Here’s what the Man looked like at night this year. He also rotated at night, under human power, a la The Machine — but at a rate you could actually notice.
The view towards 3:00 Plaza from the platform beneath the Man.
The Man’s view of The Machine.
Looking toward Center Camp from the Man. The lampposts are lit each night by the Lamplighters, a group of volunteers that some Burners revere as a sacred cult.
Looking toward the Temple from the Man. In the way is a large installation called The Dreamer. I think we need a closer look at him.
The Dreamer’s eyes were closed by day …
… and open and alive at night, when it’s dreaming time.
This year’s Temple: The Temple of Dreams.
The front side of the Temple of Dreams.
The back side of the Temple of Dreams. One of the things that I really dug about this year’s Temple was that it looked great no matter which side you approached it from. Every side really seemed like a possible “front.”
Another view of the Temple of Dreams.
Sometimes you’re trying to get a nice shot of the Temple of Dreams, and a half-naked green woman bicycles into the frame. This is just one of the hazards of playa life.
You’ll notice all sorts of things tacked and nailed to the Temple. It’s open season: Bring your own memento to add to the piece, or just grab a marker and start writing on it. It will all burn Sunday night.
A remembrance at the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005.
Hey there, Nebraska.
A reminder at the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005.
At the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005.
Hope. Spotted at the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005.
This place hurts. Yes, yes it can.
The Temple of Dreams by night. I sometimes hesitate to post dark pics like this, ‘cause they often look great on my monitor but then look shitty on Windows machines. (Windows and Linux do gamma differently, and I’m not smart enough to know exactly what to do about it.)
It’s Saturday night, and time to burn the Man. But first, lots and lots and lots of firedancing and music and spectacle.
Firedancers in front of an appreciative crowd, prior to the Burn. In the distance are neon-lit mutant vehicles.
I have to admit momentarily falling head-over-heels in love with the firedancing girl in the center of this shot. I never knew how hot a pyro could be. (Oh, of course the pun was intended. Come on now.)
Come on baby, light my fire.
Oh, so then a different set of firedancers shows up and lights a jumprope on fire. This was tres cool.
Jumping rope, firedancer style. See that Man in the right of the shot? He’s really getting worried right about now.
I turned on the flash for a sec to get a shot of the spectators in front of me as the firedancers continued jumping rope.
And then a band showed up.
BOOM. The Man has been lit.
The Burn begins.
The crowd goes wild.
The fireworks begin. They are spectacular this year. I took dozens and dozens of pictures over the next few minutes. The best snaps follow. Probably still too many.
The Burning of the Man, 2005.
The Burning of the Man, 2005.
The Burning of the Man, 2005.
The Burning of the Man, 2005.
The Burning of the Man, 2005.
The fireworks have ended, and now all there is to do is watch the flames devour the structure.
A look out across the crowd as the Man burns.
The Man’s final minutes, Burning Man 2005.
The Man’s structure is beginning to collapse.
It won’t be long now.
In a flash, the Man comes crashing down.
The crowd moves in to get a good close look. The dude to the left of the shot can see better than the rest of us, cuz he’s got those supercool playa nighttime glasses.
After the Man burns, the denizens of Black Rock City put on their finest duds and head out to party.
Some shadow dancing on the Esplanade in the hours after the Man burned.
Five-foot chickens are also allowed to shadow dance.
The dancing was far more beautiful than my shots capture. The music was dreadful.
This place showed anime all night.
This is the only picture I took of Center Camp this year. Too bad it’s shitty.
Look, it’s a head trip!
Another mutant vehicle with a countenance.
Mutant vehicles by night, Burning Man 2005.
This little speederific vehicle featured a piano keyboard beneath the steering wheel. This guy was tickling the keys something crazy as he drove around. He sounded great.
Now here was a find. Somehow the dust in the air and on the lens make the image even more magical.
The Thunderdome, a perennial favorite along the Esplanade in Black Rock City. Let’s see if we can get a look at the action going on inside.
Okay, this is all hard to see in this and subsequent shots, due to the lighting and the Burners in front of me. But in this shot, you can see that two contestants are suspended from the “roof” of the dome on bungee-esque harnesses that allow them to bounce around the interior of the dome like the madmen that they are.
Note the skull hanging from the top of the dome and the spectators who’ve clumb (clumb?) — yeah, clumb — up for a better view.
If Hagar and Helga would get the hell out of the way, we could see better.
Believe me, those guys are beating the crap out of each other with a couple of padded clubs. Oh, you scoff at padded clubs? When was the last time you were smacked upside the head with one?
Oh, why there’s a padded club right there. You wanna get hit with that?
This is all that’s left of the Man the day after the Burn.
According to Black Rock City tradition, the remnants of the Man are fashioned into a new, temporary, uh, thing. No wonder Mother and Child are walking away. There’s nothing left to keep them here.
It’s now Sunday night, the final night of the event. Time to burn the Temple of Dreams.
The burning of the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005.
The burning of the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005.
The burning of the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005.
The burning of the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005.
The burning of the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005.
The burning of the Temple of Dreams, Burning Man 2005. This very last bit of the structure held on for a good long while before collapsing. The rest of my comrades had left the playa earlier in the day, so I walked back to my already-packed-up car alone, quietly, slowly, reverently. I looked up at the nighttime desert sky. I breathed deeply. And then I began the drive back to the default world.
