BY PUMA PERL | It was Pride Month, 2019, when I last interviewed my friend Michael Alago. We had spoken about his upcoming memoir, I Am Michael Alago: Breathing Music. Signing Metallica. Beating Death, which was scheduled to be released in January 2020; about the documentary, Who the F**k Is That Guy? The Fabulous Journey of Michael Alago, and a host of other shared interests and topics. Music, of course. Photography, his work and others’, recovery, surviving AIDS. It was a beautiful day and we spent some time on his terrace, where he once watched the Towers fall, on the day we thought might be the worst our city would ever see. We had no idea how, less than one year later, life would change.

It is another beautiful afternoon, March 31, 2021, a little over a year since our city shut down. Michael and I had not seen one another since his Bowery Electric book release party, March 6, 2020. Every mention of a “2020” event brings with it surreal qualities—great memories mixed with an inconsolable loss. At the same time, we are almost giddy with gratitude to be out together, fully vaccinated, and, to date, COVID-free. Michael and I secure an outside table at Veselka, and, over hot borscht and pierogis, catch up on life especially his current project, Art in the Time of Coronavirus, inspired by his early escapes from his apartment months of sheltering in place.

“At first, I was very cautious and wasn’t leaving my house much,” he begins. “I was watching too much MSNBC, standing up in my living room and yelling at the television. I realized that this had to stop; I switched over to my favorite channel, TCM, so I could watch all the fabulous film noir and that was satisfactory for a while.” He found it difficult to concentrate on reading the types of books he’d always enjoyed. Like many of us, he felt like his brain was going through trauma, so he used some of the time to catch up on New York Times articles, which were easier to complete.

After about six months, he began feeling depressed. One day, he found himself pacing in his apartment, as if he were back to using drugs.

“Where was I going to go? What was I going to do? Nothing. Okay, I’m stuck at home,” he recalls thinking. “It felt like something out of The Twilight Zone, watching the streets from my terrace. Looking down at 8th Avenue from my Chelsea apartment was like seeing a ghost town; bookstores and restaurants boarded up, not a taxi, not a bus for the first six months.”

The nature of the pandemic brought back memories of the AIDS crisis.

“I didn’t just live though it and lose friends” he recalled. “I had full-blown AIDS. I almost died. And the crack epidemic? I didn’t just watch it; I smoked crack for five years and now I have almost 14 years clean. Here we are in this new epidemic and the reason it felt similar is because of the physical distancing. Back then, people at first didn’t know anything about HIV, didn’t know if they could hug me or touch my hand, but eventually we got the facts. Now, every week, the information changes. Another major difference is the ability to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Today, we have a vaccine that’s become more and more available. At the beginning of the AIDS crisis, it was hard to have hope, and it took years before the introduction of new medications that changed the face of HIV from a death sentence to a chronic and manageable disease.”

Still cautious, in part due to his medical history, Michael began going out at six in the morning, staying on sparsely populated side streets close to the West Side Highway. But something was still missing. He realized it was his need to take photographs. Just as Michael had taken me on a tour of his photographs when I visited his apartment, we embarked on a virtual tour of a selection of photos taken this past year.

“I’d been using the iPhone for a couple of years with an app called Hipstamatic,” he explained. “Everything comes out in a square; I love everything in squares. I began searching for locations that spoke to me and asking my friends to come out, wear a mask, and do a photo shoot. They all agreed. I decided to call the series Art in the Time of Coronavirus. I’ve shot all kinds of people from cabaret artists to rock and roll musicians, trans performers, and women of color, to two very cool guys I spotted on the Lower East Side. When I noticed Elias and Christian, I walked right up to them and said, ‘You look fabulous! Can I take your picture?’ I only shot about five or six frames, and I got three that were gorgeous. Usually, I don’t shoot two people at a time, so it was different for me. That they were strangers didn’t matter; very quickly, we had a good laugh. They stood up against the wall and I shot them in black and white.”

“The next one is my dear friend of twenty-five years, Jamie Robinson. We met up on the West Side Highway. He has a beautiful body, so I wanted to shoot him without a shirt. He brought a number of face coverings with him and we chose one that included skulls and teeth. I directed him to raise his fists, look up to the sky, and scream. When I saw the photo, I felt that he expressed brilliantly the fears and frustrations we have all been feeling.”

“This photo is of one of my favorite subjects, Danny Kavadlo,” Michael continued. “I shoot him all the time. We met up in the Times Square area and found a passageway between two theaters. The first thing we noticed were the spotlights; it made us feel like the theaters were open. Danny’s excellent in front of the camera. He covered his mouth with a black latex glove and lifted his other hand, revealing his tattoo of a third eye. I loved the theatricality of the pose.”

“Now, this is a great story. I’m on First and First, and I see this striking, voluptuous woman. I loved her hair and her “Vote Like a Black Woman” T-shirt and did a double take when I realized that the image was actually her. She introduced herself as Crystal Durant (aka DJ Crystal Clear)—and when I told her my name she said, ‘I know all about you.’ I immediately asked to photograph the encounter.”

We went on to the next photo. “I’ve known (multi-talented performance and cabaret artist) Joey Arias for over thirty years. I called Joey one day and said, ‘Girl, I’ve gotta come over and take your picture.’ We shot in front of the brick wall behind Joey’s building. The light kept coming and going, creating shadows that transformed the wall into an exquisite background. I said, ‘Put your head down, close your eyes, and I want to see your hands.’ The pose is not really a prayer, but more like a quiet moment of reflection.”

“This last one is my dear, darling, bestie Mina Caputo. She’s a trans artist and sings for a rock group called Life of Agony; Mina’s also a friend for thirty plus years. I went to her apartment in Brooklyn. I’ve always loved the staircase, which is made of wood, marble, and metal. She had on her Bad Brains T-shirt and she’d made up her eyes. I said, ‘Honey, this is your ID portrait.’ They wound up using this image as the front cover on her latest recording.”

Michael hopes to do both a book and a gallery show for the black and white work. He envisions a square portrait book, including the Coronavirus Project photos, but it’s also possible that they may stand alone.

As a writer, I identify with both the frustrations and the tools utilized by artists to get through this year. In order to keep moving forward as artists, new skills must be acquired. I asked Michael about his learning experiences and life changes.

“A year later,” he replied, “I haven’t moved very quickly because everything in this pandemic takes time. I’ve had to learn to be more patient than ever. Learning to be more patient involves so many things—projects, family, friends, and my own thinking. Recently, I’ve been focusing on shooting more photographs to add to the collection. When I secure the next book deal it will be my fourth book.”

A prime example of adjusting one’s plans is the time frame of Michael’s memoir. I had the pleasure of attending the fabulous release party for his book (I Am Michael Alago: Breathing Music, Singing Metallica, Beating Death, Backbeat Books) held on March 6, 2020, at the Bowery Electric. Although the publishing date had been moved up, he was able to get an advance shipment, which quickly sold out.

“It was wonderful,” he remembers. “I was in heaven. My co-writer, Laura Davis-Chanin, (author of The Girl in the Back) was there. It was such an exhilarating experience that so many people in my life showed up for me. Little did I know that it would be the last night that we’d all be out celebrating and that we wouldn’t be going anywhere for the next year.”

“Fast forward a couple of days, to Thursday, March 12,” he continued. “My friend Loren calls me up and tells me to turn on the television. A Broadway Alliance representative had just announced that all Times Square theaters were closing down. We had really great seats for Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolff? that same night. My first reaction was to say let’s pray for it to go on anyway, but Loren told me it was definitely closed. It was the beginning of not knowing what the F was going on.”

As time passed, Michael devised ways to successfully market his book, even though all of his bookings and travel plans had to be put on hold. By optimizing online opportunities, he managed to sell almost 2,000 books despite people being locked down and short of money. The documentary had also created a new following for him. Clearly, his hard work and initiative were the most vital factors.

“Looking back, I feel grateful for the opportunities that were available to me. For the first three months, my publisher hired a company, Adrenaine PR, which booked me for online and podcast interviews. After that, I did it myself, sometimes two or three podcasts a day. For the next nine months, I marketed and promoted myself like a mad man.”

He is also continuing to market the documentary, Who the F**k Is That Guy? The Fabulous Journey of Michael Alago. The three-year contract with Netflix recently ended and it’s currently available only as a hard copy through Amazon (https://www.amazon.com/That-Fabulous-Journey-Michael-Alago/) or for rental on Amazon Prime.

“Drew Stone [the film’s director] and I are looking for new digital outlets to redistribute the film while we work on adding an epilogue,” Michael noted. “We are looking at all options, since there are now so many new platforms.”

As we finished up a chocolate custard dessert that had proven impossible to resist, I asked Michael where he thought we were going in the arts.

“I think all of us artists are going to be very glad to get out of the house. Many of us have been furiously working in our homes all along. I think the art will be more political and reflective of the times. A lot of people are talking about the ‘new normal.’ I hate that phrase. I’m sure we are all looking forward to new beginnings.”

Our previous interview concluded with a few words about recovery and I suggested we end on the same note. Michael agreed.

“Whether COVID had happened or not, one day at a time I’d be clean and sober. Because of the pandemic, I go to seven meetings a week on Zoom and I don’t argue with myself about going, even though Zoom is not totally ideal. But if we didn’t have it, I think all of us crazy addicts, artists, and alcoholics would just go berserk. I go to a 9am meeting every morning and do some extra step work three days a week. It fills me up, and I’m able to approach each day with a positive attitude. That’s how I live. One day at a time, with a positive mental attitude,” he said, adding, “And that’s that.”

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