Four and a half years ago I wrote a column titled “In Praise of Weirdos.” A friend told me he had read it and liked it, “but I thought it was going to be something about Radok.” He wasn’t kidding and he wasn’t being mean. Chris Radok knew he was different, and that’s what his friends and many of his acquaintances liked about him. It’s also what some people didn’t like about him, but they don’t count because they were wrong, and usually were assholes to boot. Chris Radok was murdered the other day at age 55. I’ll leave details of his death to others, as I want to write about Chris, not his killer.
From 1994 to 2006, Chris worked for Creative Loafing as photographer and photo editor, both freelance and full-time. He started with CL as a distributor, became friends with Don Swan, our resident photographer/distribution manager at that time, and began taking photos for us now and then. (I say “us,” because I was editor of the paper at the time.) It was Don Swan who gave Chris the nickname “Kodar,” a reversal of his surname’s letters, a name many still called him years later. When Don quit, Chris took his place as the paper’s go-to shooter. It’s a terrible irony that Don also died at too young an age.
Chris was an all-around unusual guy, often hilariously funny, just as often grumpy and sharp-tongued. His was a natural, easy brand of non-conformity and it came to define him. He was creative in many ways, and nurtured an eclectic list of “interests” a mile long. He was a fine car mechanic, an avid “urban mountain cyclist,” a sometime carpenter, and a huge NASA fan — he could throw out enough details of all the moonshots to make your head spin. He loved motorsports, punk rock, skateboarder culture, blonde strippers, and Guillermo del Toro films. He often shot rock shows for bands, and even wound up for awhile as part of Unknown Hinson’s show.
Sometimes when he and I were both working late at the paper, we’d talk about a thousand different things; nothing seemed to be out of Chris’ range of interest: bilingual families, military uniforms, how to build a sofa, the Dada art movement, the history of bicycles, ’70s rock, newspaper page design, Ovaltine, incredibly filthy jokes, Australian bugs, you name it.
As CL photographer, Chris had a knack for thinking up creative images to accompany stories, and he would pour a lot of energy into those special photos, usually for cover stories. His fondness for using a fish-eye lens led me to praise him for many of his shots, and argue with him about others. Chris, see, wasn’t your standard-issue “all shots are paying shots” kind of photographer. If an assignment sounded boring, a lot of times the shot you got from him showed it. He wasn’t fanatically devoted to photography — just when it gave him a chance to shine. And that’s OK, because that was Chris; he was always looking for something new to grab his interest, some unforeseen thing that would give him another chance to learn and to stretch his creative abilities.
More than all these professional reminiscences, I remember Chris as a courageous, unique and generous soul, an “old soul,” full of surprises. To know that he’s gone now is inconceivable.
More on Chris Radok:
“Remembering Chris Radok” by photographer Daniel Coston
And visit the Chris Radok Memorial Page on Facebook.
This article appears in Jan 11-17, 2011.
Thanks for the excellent tribute to Kodar. You captured him exactly as many of us remember him: unique, weird, talented, grumpy, hilarious, honest, generous, with a thousand different things on his mind at any given time. He was a genuinely good guy and a true friend when you needed one. There just seems to be no end to the sadness sometimes. Kodar would probably smirk at me for writing that, so maybe I’ll just tell him to enjoy his Ovaltine wherever he is now.
A lovely piece. This nails it: “nothing seemed to be out of Chris’ range of interest.” As one example, here was a guy who on a dime could go from describing in detail a controversial GWAR show to enthusiastically sharing his opinion about the little-seen James Cagney film The Time of Your Life. We would often have discussions about his all-time favorite flick, the silent classic Metropolis. He was as smart and knowledgeable as he was genuine.
I honestly couldn’t have said it better. Chris was one of the few genuine souls I have ever known. You always got the truth from him, pretty or not – and he was one of the most loyal friends you could find. The world is a much sadder and less wonderfully weird place without him. I was blessed to know him, and he will truly be missed.
Although I have only known Chris for a short time, I feel like I had known him forever. We both grew up in Queeens, NY and although he was from Australia, he never lost that Queens temper. I’m gonna miss the Unknown Hinson stories, the way he showed me a black and white photo for every topic we talked about and the intellectual conversions we used to have about salvation. Chris buddy, I hope I convinced you.
Amen, John. Be at peace, Chris. Your presence made a difference here.
Thanks John. That was a very nice piece you wrote there. As one of Chris’ room mates, photo subjects and friend I really appreciate it as I’m sure many of his friends all over the world will too. He will be missed. RIP Kodar.
Very well-said, both by John and the other folks who have commented. Sometimes folks with a wide range of interests and passions are pigeonholed as oddballs because people can’t easily tag and define them. The opposite is, of course, true.
Good words john… But you left out his love for J-Pop and japanese rock bands. We will all miss our friend…
Amen.
Thank you so much for helping us celebrate Radok’s life and work. We were all hoping to see CL say some words, and it helps me heal personally.
So well put John. Such a tragedy. Kodar gave us many laughs in the shed behind the CL office/house on Old Pineville. His dry wit and sense of humor was so needed welcomed. Thanks for writing this John.
Thanks John.
Thank you John.
nothing can be said to ease myriad profound emotional response hearing of radok’s murder. so what now? stand and be counted at the arraignment of his murderer as a show to the judge all the people affected by his life being snatched and snuffed out. whatever it takes to be there, be there. let the judge know in no uncertain terms a murderer should not get away with what they did. throw your pebble in the water. even though my mind won’t wrap around whatever caused that murderer to arrogantly disregard another’s life, it still happened and happens on a all too frequent basis, that doesn’t matter now. be here now, and there whenever it counts and stand in for chris. i learned by experience, it matters.
I only knew Chris for a short time,he was a great person who became a good friend and co-worker R.I.P Chris I’ll miss you buddy!
This is the perfect tribute John. I laughed out loud at the mention of his fish eye lens. Thanks for writing this.
One of the best music photographers of all time. What happened f’in sucks. You will be missed brother.
oakland ave. crew
Chris Radok will be missed! Genuine and driven to create, he was the photgrapher who captured an ERA in Charlottes music scene. Antoine: burn in Hell!
Rest in peace, brother.
John – nice article. I was so shocked when I heard the news. So sad and sooo unecessary! Chris was a curious guy and you either loved him or you hated him. We spent many an hour talking about 70’s rock – it was the one thing we were always able to debate. You captured him well. R.I.P Chris Radok.
Chris Radok and I were good friends many years ago. I have nothing but good memories of Chris and I growing up in n.y. I was very sad to hear about the death of a old friend. His life was cut too short. Chris should have had many more years to share his talents and positive spirit with the world. He will be missed.
Thank you John, I shared your words with others gathered to honor Chris – my parents, Jean, Betty, George & Paul – this past Sunday, October 16th, surf side, Riverhead, NY.
Paul Stanford, NC friend of Chris in late ’70’s found me on the Facebook tribute to Chris. I had learned about his death with thanks to his brother Uwe and his contact with Jean. Jean, myself and my parents were longtime friends of the Radok family.
I was a childhood friend of Chris and his family – and had actually met Paul way back in ’78 when he visited NY and stayed with Chris and his mother Flo.
Chris grew up just across the street in Flushing, Queens. Our mothers were good, great friends. And we maintained our connection over the years because we always remained dear friends of Flo. But, details of Chris and his life over the past 20-30 years left us searching for more. And, through your words, John, you gave us comfort and helped us come to know Chris, post NY.
John, thank you so very much for your article honoring Chris just one day after his death. With deep appreciation to Paul Stanford and his family, and Uwe & the Radok family, we then shared the same poem we read when Flo’s ashes were spread.
At the same spot in 2006, on the same day five years later, we read them to honor Chris…
Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
Canon Henry Scott-Holland, 1847-1918, Canon of St Paul’s Cathedral