Jenny Lens Bio 2004

Jenny Lens Bio 2004

I wrote this in 2004. My attitude is far better, thanks to SO many great Facebook comments, messages, emails and IRL (in real life) encounters. Enjoy! I was born and raised in LA. I was a shy, introverted adolescent in the wild sixties of Vietnam protests, free love and sex due to the pill and no STDs, no AIDs, women’s liberation and civil rights. But the hippie generation were as messed up as any, far from being all about peace and love. I felt so alienated and lost, felt so fat and discriminated against, so I retreated further into art and books, rarely went to live shows, but always loved rock. I was the bookworm, making art and missing out on fun teenage years. That would come later with punk. I was so bored out of my mind in school until I finally got into college and made lots of art. My work was acclaimed early on and I could have had a successful gallery/museum career. I earned a BA in Art from CSUN and Master of Fine Arts from Cal Arts, in the crafts area. I love and miss making things with my hands cos I’m a touchy-feely woman. My work was sensual and organic, the product of a passionate woman, struggling with my identity. It really hurt when people were surprised at my work: how could this fat girl have such passion, such creativity, so many skills? They were threatened by me and I was even more alienated. If that’s what my fellow students and teachers felt, how could I deal with the head games necessary to...
Jenny Lens Ramones Numero Uno Fan

Jenny Lens Ramones Numero Uno Fan

by Richard Schaefer in Lisa Fancher’s “Street Life” fanzine. Proof I was the Ramones “numero uno fan and famous paparazzi in her own right.” In EARLY 1977!! Tantalizing sounds of the skirmishes of desire, of lips surrendering cheap kissed in the other room, brought torture to anyone who listened. We stood between the jungle and the stars, both of us trying to keep our balance as we fought. DEE DEE was a madman at my throat an my eyes, trying to gouge them out. At last he got me right in the eyes, his fingers sinking in . . . My brain seemed to burst and I saw “Carbona Not Glue.” He was still in my eye sockets, still digging in! My brain felt ripped open. Then I saw a little out of my left eye. It was BLONDIE! She cursed and panted in frenzy trying to come in for the kill. My hand went for that sensuous mouth. I wanted her kiss-print. She clenched her teeth and sun keep “In the Flesh” on my hand. I had never seen a more beautiful, ravaging animal. She bellowed with laughter and staggered back toward the punch-bowl. Rock and Roll was re-born at the SCREAMERS house in Hollywood. It was 2 in the morning as the party was just starting. Up the winding, vinyl staircase they came, NEW YORK, TOKYO, ROME, SEATTLE, PARIS and AZUZA, dueling with EL LAY’S punk elite to honor the RAMONES and BLONDIE on their successful Whiskey A Go Go gig. The boppers were bopping. JIMMY DESTRI, keyboards for BLONDIE, was the first to make an entrance,...
Alice Bag Interview of Jenny Lens, MFA

Alice Bag Interview of Jenny Lens, MFA

Alice Bag interviewed Jenny Lens in 2004. Alice is considered by many to be the very first hard core singer with her radical band, the Bags,who first hit the streets in 1977. Their riotous show at the Troubadour, known for folk singers and laid-back rockers, is still talked about today. I always considered Alice a sweet, thoughtful, beautiful woman and never realized this side of her. She was and is a true style icon, a woman whose inner beauty is matched by her outer beauty, which you will see as I post some of the many shots I took of this amazing woman. I am so blessed to be her friend! ALICE: Denied her rightful place, the historians have ignored her. You never see her face… -Vaginal Davis, Essays de la Mujer This website exists today only because courageous, intelligent and daring women back in the 1970’s decided to break the rules of society. They rallied together under the banner of the punk movement. Many of them are no longer with us. This page is dedicated to their memories. I am VERY pleased and excited to announce that we have just opened a new section at www.alicebag.com, dedicated to the women who were involved in the early L.A. punk scene. One of the goals of this website is to expose the important and too-often overlooked contributions of female artists in the late seventies punk movement. The Women In L.A. Punk section aims to address that by allowing interviewees to share their recollections and opinions in an unrestricted forum. I am sending out e-mail interviews to women who were actively...
Saturday is Alright for Hanging Out on the Streets

Saturday is Alright for Hanging Out on the Streets

Or was it coming home for photographing of lovely opening to find all hell broke loose in my apartment building? Moved into paradise until a despot took over. Lady MacBeth and Professor Moriarty (think meaner and vicious). Without detailing it, let’s say past four years in this otherwise lovely apartment has been hell on earth. Time to get serious about this situation. That will require also legal work, research and compiling tons of info from neighbors. I could write books about both these situations. That’s how much paperwork I’m generating. Oy. Feeling like a tiger in a cage, pacing back and forth and deeply growling, I kept asking myself why do I feel like this? Was it the fact that my photo archive is being held hostage? Despite a strongly worded demand letter from my attorney. Sadly looks like litigation. Which costs a lot of time and money. That would put someone in a bad mood. Sometimes sitting on my butt, in front of screen, for 10 hours a day every day of the week really gets to me. I just walk and walk. Around the neighborhood. Or inside the courtyard. Tonight, as I looked out my kitchen window, studying the clouds and their cool damp air, in true June gloom, I flashed onto strong feelings and one powerful image. I’m in front of my dressing table mirror, with my lotions and potions and paints. I’m coloring my face, to complement my mood and dress, before going out. Life begins at 8:45. (An Al Jolson hit from the early 1930s. Delightful.). 8:45 is when Al picks up his lady...

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