12th Street had the pleasure of sitting down with comedian and performance-artist John Hammond to discuss his two recent multimedia pieces available on 12th Street’s front page. Greg Levine-Rozenvayn, 12th Street’s 2017/18 Managing Editor, interviewed Hammond in and out of character–that is, his character Bolo from his performance film “Salsa Man.”
-Alexandra Tadros, Editor-in-Chief
12th STREET: Why comedy?
JOHN HAMMOND: When I was growing up, my parents consistently exposed me to the comedians from their generation. I read books about SNL, Second City, and watched everything I could. Then, I had a high school friend who loved comedy as much as I did, and so we started making little videos and posted them on Youtube. They became really popular throughout my high school, and beyond, so we just kept on making them until we head off to college.
STREET: What are your influences?
HAMMOND: As a performer, I love Chris Farley, Bill Hader, Jason Sudeikis, Andy Samburg, Will Ferrel, Beck Bennet, Kyle Mooney—pretty much anyone that has been on SNL in the past 40 years. I also love Paul Thomas Anderson, The Coen Brothers, David O Russel, Noah Baumbach, Alejandro Inarritu, Darron Arronofsky, Woody Allen, Dave McCary, Nico Heller, Rob Reiner, Chris Guest, and so many more.
However, my biggest influence right now is Judd Appatow. He was a performer who turned into a director and producer, which is kind of how I see myself right now. I also love his movies and everyone involved in them, like Seth Rogan and Evan Goldberg.
STREET: What’s it like to jump between artistic modes: writing, directing, acting, and producing?
HAMMOND: It comes with pros and cons. I love all the different phases, so I enjoy jumping between acting and filming. Also, It gives me the ability to change things as I go. I have a good grasp on every aspect of what I’m making, which allows me to make small adjustments here or there, and still stay true to the ethos of my vision.
On the down side, I become isolated in some ways. Because I’m alone in control of the entire process, I get less outside opinion before its released. I think it’s important to have other people involved in the process, a sort of checks and balances system. Lately, I’ve been trying to outsource more often.
STREET: Where do you find your characters?
HAMMOND: They come from people around me. My friends, or someone I meet, or, maybe just a stranger on the street. Someone who, to me, is weird or interesting; take that trait and turn it way up—exaggerate the shit out of it.
STREET: Why do you choose comedy as a form of expression?
HAMMOND: I think it’s because I don’t take anything very seriously. I take my art very seriously, but everything else in life just isn’t that big of a deal! Even when I try to make something serious, an element always presents itself to me. I remember when I started at Parsons, where everyone—professors and students alike—demands gravity, I still couldn’t make without some kind of humor. My classmates were designing solutions to the world’s problems, and I just wanted to make purposefully dumb stuff.
STREET: What inspires you to write a story: the characters, plot, idea, or all of the above, or something completely different?
HAMMOND: It’s usually one of three things: the character, an image, or a scene. For a scene, I’ll think of something like, “Oh, it would be really funny if someone could plug themselves into a computer, but, in order to do that they have to pull the cord out of their ass.” Then, I write a story around that idea. Doesn’t always work, but sometimes it does!
STREET: How many characters do you have in your arsenal?
HAMMOND: Right now, I have a Private Investigator and these two guys that love techno music.
STREET: What’s your process?
HAMMOND: I shoot pretty light: just a camera, some lights, whoever’s available, and start shooting! Right now, I use a Panasonic Lumix GH5 with a shoulder mount and some lights from home depot.
After I come up with an idea, I bounce it off my friends. They’ll shit on it and tell me what’s wrong with it. Then, I filter their feedback—listen to some things, not to others—write it up, and choose a day to shoot it.
STREET: How’s it feel to be a fixture in your own stories?
HAMMOND: It’s cool! Being behind the camera, I miss out on performance a lot of the time, so when I do get in front it’s awesome!
In conversation with Bolo:
STREET: Can you tell me a little more about Bolo, pre-NYC and pre-Salsa Man.
BOLO: Well, I grew up on the countryside in Texas. Many weekends we would drive to my Abuelita’s house. She had a beautiful home overlooking her ranch. It was my favorite place to go—just so peaceful. Mother had said she lived there for the soil, which was rich and full of life. I guess that’s why her homemade chips and salsa were so delectable.
STREET: Where does Abuelita come from? Did she grow up in Texas, too?
BOLO: When she was a young girl she moved from Mexico to Texas. She brought many traditions that I continue to this day, here, in The City.
STREET: Why did you choose NYC, one of the most cutthroat, expensive cities in the US, to live in?
BOLO: Abuelita used to talk of The City. She would tell me about a trip she took there, as a young girl. It fascinated her; the big buildings—the pretty lights! She told me it was like stepping into a different world. After her death, I wanted to get away from the place that reminded me of her, so I went to the place that she loved—New York City.
STREET: What kinds of personality traits do you look for in a salsa?
BOLO: A salsa of the highest quality must walk many tightropes. It must be chunky yet smooth, spicy yet tolerable, simultaneously salty and sweet. But, the most important trait—and abeulita taught me this—is that it must be made with love.
STREET: What constitutes a “bad chip?”
BOLO: I always say: when one bites into a quality chip, one feels that crispy crunch deep inside of their heart—as if the vibration travels through the palette deep inside this vessel that we call a body.
STREET: You said, “God created us with two hands, one to hold a chip and the other to hold the salsa.” Does the salsa hat defy God?
BOLO: No. I would never do such a thing. The current apparatus and delivery method (two hands and mouth) are at fault. That’s why the Salsa Hat had to be invented. If anything, the hat is God’s intervention, through my hands.
STREET: Has anybody ever followed you home?
BOLO: A curious few have sought further knowledge of my hat and me. But, I can be very silent—like a mouse. I leave no tracks and disappear behind the city’s hard surfaces.
STREET: What’s the future of chips and salsa?
BOLO: I think the future lies in you, in me, and in god. We have to take this delicacy—to the future. How? I do not know. But, chips and salsa will always have a place in our hearts and bodies.