Before Bram was a bonafide author, he was a punk-rocker with hummus in his hair.
Indeed, if you want ashen tresses that shimmer like cadaverous squirrels in the breeze, then hummus is your friend.
Watching Bram write his debut novel, The Book Of Dirt, has been a giddy rollercoaster ride – sans side rails or restraining harness. And if that’s how it’s played out for his family and friends over the last seven years, God knows what kind of self-imposed nightmare it must have been for Bram.
As such, it was an exquisite relief when he pulled the veritable rabbit out of the hat and submitted the first draft to his publisher.
Over the years I’ve had the privilege of collaborating with Bram in many guises. From co-writing droll ditties together for his punk misadventure, Yidcore, to penning some deeply inappropriate children’s radio plays, to even working on spoof ads.
And while I had absolutely nothing to do with the writing of this highly personal tome of fractured memory and Holocaust remembrance; it was a thrill to collaborate yet again, this time by way of shooting the portraits that would be used for the book’s publicity.
Bram wanted to keep it as understated and to the point as possible, so we shot a series of stills in his home library, where so much of the book was written. The backdrop of endless shelves of books seemed like an apt setting for this voraciously ravenous book worm.
We also took another bunch of stills in the front garden of Bram’s St.Kilda home; his hair cascading like Botticelli’s Venus after a rough night on the turps.
Suffice to say, the book launched to great and deserved critical acclaim, garnering considerable coverage.
And even though Bram did all of the hard work, it was still like hitting pay dirt for me to see my pics popping up all over the place.