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To the eyes in darkness, image is a virus | Keith Caputo 2010 Brutal Truth represents the self-governed

More than mere photographs, these images

spirit of Michael Alago’s signature style:

are a glorious record of a timeless New York

his boundless range of colors, the evocative

underground – as well as a heart-stopping

nature of his locations, and the distinctive

meditation on the ideas, creativity, desires,

personalities of his models. Truly, these

fantasies, fears, and visions of a generation.

are photographs that could not have been

That’s because Michael Alago is an anthro-

made by anyone other than Michael Alago.

pologist as well as a photographer, driven

Composed of stillness, silence and light,

not by the almighty dollar but by a loving

they have an exquisite way of losing interest

compulsion to document his particular time

in their innate realism as they slip, dreamlike,

and place. He’s the street beater, the spirit

into your consciousness and make a home

sniper, the sharp shooter of the wild bunch…

in your soul.

forever on the prowl for the perfect fix—

or the perfect kiss. That’s him in the limo,

In your hands you have Brutal Truth,

the bar and the toilet stall, snapping up those

a collection of shades that you won’t ever

unguarded moments that make the soul cry

see at the movies. That’s because these

out: the peck, the punch, the pillage of the

are shades that only Michael Alago can see

present. For that’s what truly drives this

through the lens of his old-school camera,

voyeuristic Lucifer, this curator of genius

loaded with magical film. I wish you all a

illuminating the world with his lens: not the

great deal of enjoyment—and a happy ending.

past, not the future, but the NOW.

bruisers ready to fuck to rock and roll to hit the concrete dazed but not so confused bloodied but not yet done out of breath yet always ready for the next round another monster embrace drenched in sweat taste like salt off the mats into the locker room a different kind of embrace naked and still

charged from the fight tongues lapping head to toe lips smacking and smiling cocks hard growling animal sounds sticking it in every hole imaginable lust like no other devouring all the fluids you have to give. I awake from the dream and all is right with the world. michael alago