Jerry Buttles
Photographer
On the floor of photographer Jerry Buttles’ apartment in Bed Stuy, Brooklyn, is a framed1965 black and white photograph of a group of San Bernardino Hells Angels. The photograph was taken by New York photographer Bill Ray for Life Magazine. In the foreground is a woman, mid-sentence, talking to a handsome young couple directly in front of her–a young man and woman who are dressed in motorcycle jackets with artfully coiffed hair.
They look directly into camera. Buttles picks up the photograph and points to them. “That’s my grandfather Jerry—I was named after him—and that’s my grandmother Donna. They were Hells Angels. They were rebels.” Buttles himself is a bit of a rebel, in the sense of being someone who defies convention. His home, his art, his personal style are all nonconformist. He is keenly aware of how his originality has played a key role in his success as a photographer. “I have my own style. People don’t want you because you can take a picture. They want you because they want your picture.”
His apartment is eclectically decorated, but expertly curated. Every item has its own place. “I always try to take care of my stuff,” he says, seated across from a window bursting with plants. Whether it’s knick-knacks from his travels, old framed photographs of Andy Warhol and Lou Reed, or the incense he picked up in Japan, each item looks loved and appreciated. Even the flat screen tv is cared for. When it’s not being used, Buttles and his wife cover the tv with a piece of blue patterned fabric they got in China. “When we’re not watching the tv, we prefer not to see it. The tv is not a central focus for us. We’re letting it rest. And aesthetically, this just looks better.” For Buttles, aesthetics are important. From what he wears to how he works. “I cut my own pants,” he says gesturing to his burgundy pants that are cut ankle high. “When you get dressed it’s for you. It’s not for anyone else. Feeling comfortable, both mentally and physically, is important.
