RYAN.A.SKUT

San Francisco

Mon, 14 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

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Sky Pilot

The Mojave Mile

Sun, 06 May 2012 00:00:00 -0700

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The Rich Guy Go Fast Club.

Monterey Pt. 3

Tue, 27 Mar 2012 20:19:00 -0700

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Another snap from a recent trip to Monterey, CA.

Buds. Kitty and Deer.

The Deal

Tue, 13 Mar 2012 21:28:00 -0700

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Let me introduce you to the The Deal.

One Part Nick Weaver. One part Kelsey Young.

Aggressive and smooth. Hip hop and blues.

&amp;lt;a href=”http://the-deal.bandcamp.com/track/devil” data-mce-href=”http://the-deal.bandcamp.com/track/devil”&amp;gt;Devil by The Deal&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;

&lt;a href=”http://the-deal.bandcamp.com/track/make-a-deal” data-mce-href=”http://the-deal.bandcamp.com/track/make-a-deal”&gt;Make A Deal by The Deal&lt;/a&gt;

Download The Deal for FREE at their BANDCAMP

Like them on FACEBOOK.

Stay tuned for more from The Deal.

Monterey Pt. 2

Sat, 11 Feb 2012 11:16:27 -0800

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More snaps from a recent trip to Monterey, CA.

Also known as Jannette’s Super Fun Weekend

NHW Dearly & Severely

Thu, 09 Feb 2012 09:14:00 -0800

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It’s that time again.

The new NHW mix tape Dearly & Severely dropped yesterday and, as always, the kid delivers.

Sample it here:

&amp;amp;amp;lt;a href=”http://iamnhw.com/track/the-role” _mce_href=”http://iamnhw.com/track/the-role”&amp;amp;amp;gt;The Role by NHW&amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;gt;

Download it FOR FREE at iamnhw.com.

Monterey Pt. 1

Mon, 06 Feb 2012 23:19:00 -0800

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Some snaps from a recent trip to Monterey, CA.

Santa Catalina

Fri, 16 Dec 2011 17:57:00 -0800

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Two Harbors, Santa Catalina Island.

On October 7, 1542, Portuguese explorer Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo discovered an island know to the natives as Pimu. Cabrillo clamed it for Spain, and name it San Salvador after his ship.

60 years later the island was rediscovered(?) by, another Spanish explorer, Sebastian Vizcaino.

A seminal member of the grass roots movement to legitimize the racing of stock production automobiles in North America, Vizcaino claimed the island for NASCAR, and renamed it Santa Catalina in honor of Saint Catherine, the patron saint of NASCAR drivers.

While the site of Catalina’s reclaiming remains hotly contested by island historians, a replica of the original flag can be found on the front lawn of the, recently restored, Vizcaino family residence.

Hyphy Halloween!

Mon, 12 Dec 2011 21:42:00 -0800

Gucci, Gucci, Louis, Louis, Fen… nevermind. Better late than never.

OH BABY. Behind the Scenes

Wed, 07 Dec 2011 21:46:00 -0800

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Stills from the set of Oh Baby.

Directed by Jordan VanDina

Produced by Kelly McDermid

Staring Quinn Beswick and Jordan Vandina

Connecticut Pt. 3

Sat, 29 Oct 2011 12:36:53 -0700

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Part three of my Connecticut summer vacation.

The Petersen bachelor party.

Connecticut Pt. 2

Tue, 25 Oct 2011 09:50:49 -0700

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Part two of my Connecticut summer vacation.

Anthony Skut’s wood shop.

Beach Life

Tue, 18 Oct 2011 09:08:10 -0700

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Just a few snaps from the last meeting of the dudes. Unfortunately I spent more time with a beer in my hand than a camera.

That’s beach life I guess.

NHW One Room Mixtape

Thu, 06 Oct 2011 09:37:00 -0700

Click the above image to check out NHDUB.COM

NHW’s new mixtape is finally here. Give it a listen, you won’t be disappointed.

<a href=”http://nhdub.com/album/one-room-mixtape” _mce_href=”http://nhdub.com/album/one-room-mixtape”>One Room Mixtape by NHW</a>

Connecticut Pt. 1

Sat, 01 Oct 2011 11:06:05 -0700

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Part one of my Connecticut summer vacation.

Colchester Hayward Fire Department and Essex County Fire Rescue.

NHW Portraits

Wed, 28 Sep 2011 10:47:00 -0700

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<a href=”http://nhdub.com/track/clean-up” _mce_href=”http://nhdub.com/track/clean-up”>Clean Up by NHW</a>

I shot NHW last week for the cover of his next mixtape. While I eagerly await its release, here are a few portraits I grabbed that day.

If you haven’t already, click play on the embedded track above, and visit NHDUB.COM to hear more.

In the Summertime

Sun, 18 Sep 2011 17:36:00 -0700

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And for the full effect click play and let Mungo Jerry set the tone.

It’s been a busy summer. More content coming soon.

Life Getting A Little Too Predictable?

Thu, 16 Jun 2011 21:14:00 -0700

Protip : Break a toe!

Now, I’m not talking about obliterating the big guy. You want to spice up your comings and goings, not handicap yourself. Isolate one of the lesser toes and let’em have it!

You’ll be amazed how every step of every day becomes an adventure.

You’ll walk like a geriatric, and put on shoes with the delicate apprehension of a child.

You’ll stare in wonder at the rainbow of flesh tones your body is able to create.

And, three months later, when your toe is still larger than it should be, more gray than pink, and surprises you with knee buckling pain you’ll look back and laugh. What a wild ride it’s been old friend. What a wild ride it’s been.

Pro-Protip : Just because a photo shoot is on the beach doesn’t mean you should lose the shoes, Hippy.

Back to the Woods

Wed, 09 Feb 2011 22:56:47 -0800

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In our lives we have these moments where everything snaps into focus.

It’s kind of like a day in the life of Columbo (with picture links to help you follow along). John Cassavetes is conducting the LA Phil, married to Gwyneth Paltrow’s mom, and hooking up with the orchestra’s pianist. The Pianist threatens to ruin John Cassavetes’ conducting career by spilling the beans to the woman from The Thin Man, the orchestra’s owner, who just happens to be Gwyneth Paltrow’s mom’s mom, but before she is able to, John Cassavetes sneaks off and kills the Pianist making it look like a suicide, note and all. John Cassavetes goes to his performance at the Phil and is like “Huh, where’s the Pianist?! Bummer. Oh Well.”, and no one’s the wiser. Columbo’s on the scene. He meets John Cassavetes, sees the cut of his jib and doesn’t like it. Columbo interviews the neighbors, and a little girl says she saw a man leaving the Pianist’s house. The Little Girl goes to the Phil to identify the man, and Columbo’s like “Yeah I got this.” but the little girl points out the trumpeter. The Trumpeter admits he was there. He loved the Pianist but she didn’t love him back. Columbo’s like “Well, shit.” and mumbles something about the ~~town~~ ~~bicycle~~ orchestra pianist. He knows the suicide note’s a fake and there are some peculiar mileage discrepancies in the log book of John Cassavetes‘ meticulously maintained car, and Pat Morita is Gwyneth Paltrow’s mom’s mom’s house boy. Just when Columbo thinks he’s running out of leads he sees some video footage from the Phil’s performance on the night of the suicide/murder, and John Cassavetes isn’t wearing a flower on his lapel, but he ALWAYS wears a flower on his lapel, AND THEY FOUND AN ERRANT FLOWER IN THE PIANIST’S HOUSE!

Snap. Focus.

I grew up the son of a carpenter. Wood was everything, and anything could be made of wood. A crib, a rocking horse, a swing set, toy tanks, toy guns, slingshots, my dad built it all.

After years of roaming around job sites, hammering together sculptures from scraps, and honing our woodworking skills, my brother and I came to the same conclusion that all boys should come to in their formative years. We needed a tree house, and with our dad’s help (and his power tools, and fully developed muscles and decades of construction knowledge) it would the best tree house this side of the Connecticut River.

We spoke, and it was done.

This wasn’t just some tree house. It was a house built in a tree. It had a picket fence, a shingled roof, screened windows, and a locking door. My little mind snapped into focus. I had it good. I had it real good. For the first time in my life I remember being aware of how fortunate I was.

Maybe, just maybe, somewhere across town, a CPA was teaching his kids how to balance their books. A plumber was guiding his kids though the ins and outs of plumbing a toilet. An underwater welder had his kids in tiny underwater welder suits, and was showing them whatever it is that underwater welders do. But I feel like those kids probably didn’t walk away with the same message. Unless, maybe they too were building a tree house, underwater?

The above photo is the first in a series I want to do, documenting the tree house.

FilmLA is to Shooting AS the Champagne Room is to...

Mon, 24 Jan 2011 22:12:53 -0800

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It’s no secret. I hate this city, the people, the potholes, the grime, the slime, the corruption and most of all the egos. People see a big shiny camera and assume someone’s getting rich, or not paying into the system, or exploiting someone somewhere. Some thing must be done!

No, I don’t have a permit to be shooting here. Maybe if you weren’t so busy sucking the man’s dick you would be able to appreciate the hard work and creativity of the individuals standing in front of you.

Where I come from public land is there for the enjoyment of the public. LA has this mentality of look, but don’t touch. That is unless you want to buy a private dance… errr, permit. We’re not allowed in this field? Well why the fuck not?

If I had been rendering the same scene on a canvas with some oil paints would I have been hassled? Or if I was snapping vacation photos with a point-and-shoot would I have to argue with some power tripping nerd on horse back? Probably not.

Halfway through the shoot we were approached by the Santa Monica Mountains’ bouncers… errr, junior rangers. Half laughing, one says “I see that you’re shooting Will.I.Am here, but if you don’t have a permit you are breaking the law.” Met with a swell of groans and raised eyebrows the rangers quickly realized that their attempt to be hip and affable had taken a wrong turn at Racism St.

Backpedaling on horseback (an interesting sight), they informed us that they couldn’t issue us a ticket, but the sheriff surely would if he happened to wander by. I told them we’d take out chances. Hoping to not run into the sheriff, we picked up the pace of the shoot.

An hour later, one look away from wrapping the singles, the Keystone Kops returned looking pretty sore in the saddle. As they got into earshot one of them spouted off, “You know, we were really nice before when we asked you to leave!” I tried to explain to them that we were never asked to leave, and in 20 or so frames we would be out of their hair.

“You either to leave right now, or we are calling the sheriff.” There’s no negotiating with these kinds of people, and there’s nothing I hate more than unchecked ego’s, so I shrugged it off and told them “We’re not done yet, so you do what you’ve got to do.”

True to my word, in less than a minute we were wrapped, and ran past the rangers grumbling into their walkie-talkies. About a half mile outside of the park we passed a cop headed in the opposite direction, and put the pedal to the floor.

Got hot, dirty, walked away with some good shots and checked the egos of a couple lackeys.

Good Times!

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