Q: Your work is so unusual-- what compelled you to photograph all those strange situations?
CG: There's a famous quote from Flaubert: "One does not choose ones subject matter--one submits to it.'" I never had to think about what I wanted to photograph. It was the Sixties. There were anti-war protesters and Hells Angels and Black Panthers and crash pads and naked hippie chicks, and when I moved to New York City in l966 I found myself right in the middle of it all. I began photographing alternative lifestyles, and that's what I'm still doing.

Q: How is your fascination with strangeness different from thrill-seeking sensationalism? Are You trying to shock people, or is there more to it?
CG: My first impulse was to document what I was seeing. Some of my motivations were sensational, but as I became involved with my subjects I found deeper meanings. My work has changed my thinking tremendously. This kind of work also makes me HIGH. I enter secret societies, magical worlds. It's excited and creatively challenging. It's fun!

Q: There seem to be certain subjects that give you this special feeling.
CG: Yes, certain subjects thrill me: tattoos, piercings, sexual weirdness, exhibitionism, fetish, anything forbidden. I also get high at scenes like Mardi Gras. I'm excited by the crazy energy of the costumed crowds. Imagine a million highly decorated drunks at one big street party--I love that kind of energy.

Q: How does it feel to be a voyeur, watching and recording other people's lives?
CG: Well, I obviously like what I call "eyeball kicks." I love to watch. However I'm not only playing on that level--it's just one level, one of many. The word voyeur means a "peeping Tom," one who gets sexually excited watching people do erotic things. It's a shallow concept. I like to watch, sure, but on several levels at once. There's an old English word--seer--meaning a person who sees deeply into things. I prefer that term, because it implies wisdom and understanding. Remember, my academic background is Anthropology, the study of human behavior. At the university, I was trained to go into the field, observe, record, and report back on what I'd seen. And that's exactly what I do.

Q: What works have influenced you?
CG: In college I was very influenced by The Family of Man --a book of documentary photography--and by a weird Italian documentary film called '"Mondo Cane." I loved W. Eugene Smith's classic photographic essays. Later I discovered the photography of August Sander, Brassai, Bill Brandt, Robert Frank and Diane Arbus. Then there were writers: Henry Miller, Norman Mailer, Hubert Selby Jr., Jack Kerouac, William S. Burroughs. Underground comix also influenced my early style--a lot of pictures in my first book, Sidetripping , remind me of comic strip panels.

Q: How did you meet William Burroughs?
CG: I knew a writer named Robert Palmer who was a huge Burroughs fan. He persuaded Rolling Stone magazine to send him to London to interview Burroughs, and he invited me to come and take the pictures. I brought a dummy of Sidetripping, showed it to William, and asked if he would write text for the book. It blew my mind when he agreed.

Q: You don't look so weird yourself. Why not?
CG: Burroughs wore three piece suits, yet he had one of the most radical minds on the planet. If you're conservative in your appearance, you can access many worlds, not just a few. Often it's best to fit in, be invisible. Looking weird can be very limiting for a reporter.

Q: What's the story behind your famous shot of the woman masturbating for an audience at an art opening?
CG: The woman--wife of an artist friend--was doing an 'erotic dance' on a waterbed. Loud music was playing. The room was dark; she was in silhouette against bright colored lights inside the bed. I bounced a flash off the ceiling, which captured everyone’s expressions. Only my camera saw it my way.

Q: Is that objective?
CG: No, it's poetic. Your point of view depends on what you leave out, what you choose to take, and how you take it. In Sidetripping , for example, I used certain photographic tricks to make the images more savage, like the distortion of extreme wide-angle lenses. I often also held the flash low, off camera, to give a kind of demon light. Very effective.

Q: Speaking of techniques, what films and cameras do you use?
CG: My early work was all done with Leica cameras and wide angle lenses. Today I use mostly Canon F-1's and my normal lens is a 50mm macro. As for films, I formerly used fast films a lot (400 ISO, often pushed to l000 or more), but today I prefer slow films (ISO l00), developed normally. Except for a hand-held Vivitar flash, I rarely use lights. I prefer natural light, especially north light, window light, and skylight.

Q: As an artist, do you find it difficult when people don't understand the real threats of censorship?
CG: Of course. Censorship stinks. I've been censored many times. My latest book, True Blood , has been banned in five countries. I've fought for free expression and I admire others who have too, like Annie Sprinkle, Marco Vassi, Michael Perkins, Hugh Heffner, Lenny Bruce, Larry Flynt. Of course the battle continues, and I'm proud to be part of it. One of my main themes is transcendental liberation--and repression and liberation don't mix.

Q: What's the weirdest place you've ever been?
CG: San Francisco.

Q: Why San Francisco?
CG: The alternative communities are so huge here, so deep, so fascinating. There's a whole new level of wonderfully strange behavior, including artistic and innovative tattoo work, elaborate and innovative piercings, cutting, branding, blood sports, and S/M and pagan activities. A lot of this is done in elaborate rituals--profound, deep and spiritual--well thought-out and well executed. Many of these rituals facilitate true personal transformation and inner growth. I find that very important, even though to the straight world it looks weird as hell.

Q: So the radical subcultures encourage one to seek ones true identity?
CG: Exactly. It's easy to feel isolated and worthless in today's culture. Many people have begun looking to primitive sources for answers, examining things like magic, shamanism, paganism, body modification and so on. As V. Vale stated in the Re/Search Modern Primitives issue:" 'Our goal is to jump-start our conditioned and deadened minds and bodies back to life. Our dream is integration and actualization, and our vehicle is our most precious possession: our bodies

Q: Isn't some of this activity just a passing fad, a trend?
CG: Yes and no. Much of it is deeper. During a recent ritual, a man I know had a large footprint of a bear cut into his back. The bear is his totem animal; he wanted a big scar to mark and commemorate the ritual. For others, body modification can be part of a rite of passage. In primitive cultures, when you reach a certain age, you commonly receive some hard physical experience as an initiation. Suddenly you're no longer a boy -- you're a Man. It's been called 'ritual wounding' Your body receives marks that show that you've changed. A symbolic opening is created. You realize your vulnerabilities and your strengths. You feel a strong bond with the others involved in the ritual. And you're experiencing this directly, not watching it on television. That's important, because we get so much of our so-called experience second-hand, from the media. After you participate in a good ritual, television seems so silly!

Q: Do you try to show these deeper meanings in your photographs?
CG: Of course, and in my videos and writings as well. I want to show that there's a lot more going on than people may think. Many people imagine my subjects are stupid, or crazy. Some of them are, but many are smart, conscious people searching for new means of expression. Hopefully my work will open some new possibilities to the viewer.

Q: In your book Forbidden Photographs , you mention personal fantasies of transcendence, and having paid the full biologic price for all the 'real a body and soul could handle. How do you define 'real experiences?
CG: Have you ever had experiences that were so deep and profound they shook your soul?" I like to live intensely and passionately, so that when my time comes I can look back and say I've truly LIVED.

Q: How can piercing one's penis, for example, be liberating?
CG: In the radical sex community, I hear people describing epiphanies all the time. They describe transcendental peaks, physical and psychological spaces they've explored. I call them astronauts of inner space. They use ancient techniques of trance and ritual and pain to attain altered states of awareness.
Society often tells us that our bodies are inherently sinful. That's a false message. Piercing one's genitals can be a way of affirming and reclaiming physical and sexual freedom. The act reminds us that our bodies belong to us--not the church, not the state, not our parents. As Fakir Musafar says, 'It's your body--play with it.'

Q: How much of this have you experienced personally?
CG: I'm tattooed, and I've participated in a lot of elaborate S/M play and joined a lot of pagan rituals. One of my most interesting experiences was joining a 'ball dance' during Fakir Musafar's Ecstatic Shamanism Workshop. For two days we heard lectures about changing consciousness. We saw demonstrations of bondage, suspension, witch's cradle, bed of nails, bed of blades, and so on. At the end of the workshop, Fakir pierced all of us. He pinched the skin above my nipples and pierced me with a large needle. It hurt, and I screamed. Then Fakir sewed large rubber balls with bells at the bottom, into my skin. Soon there were thirty of us, dancing to drums and chants. We all became extremely high from the endorphin and adrenalin rush, and from the incredible group energy. It was so exhilarating!

Q: So one can learn from pain?
CG: Yes indeed. There are many spiritual traditions that explore dark and dangerous paths. An important principle in paganism is to balance dark and light. Many people deny their dark sides, yet we all have darkness in us. It's healthy to explore, to integrate light and dark, instead of trying to repress those dark instincts. Rituals provide a safe and supportive way to further those explorations. I was nervous about participating in the ball dance, and I found it painful at first. But afterward I felt just great. I found the ritual to be empowering, cathartic, transformative.

Q: Tell us about the 'new tribalism' mentioned in Modern Primitives .
CG: Modern society can make us feel weak and isolated, but as we connect with other conscious spirits we can regain our power. On the other hand, a tribe can mandate very rigid conformity. If you don't fit in, you can be forced out into the cold. How can one be a rebel in a tribe? It's an interesting paradox, and it's a challenge to enjoy the support system and still remain a creative and free-thinking individual.

Q: How does sex fit into your work? Your photographs include a lot of sexual energy, yet you haven't published many photographs of people actually having sex.
CG: As you know, sex is about a lot more than putting the peg in the hole. I'm certainly drawn to erotica, yet I think of myself more as a photographer of the forbidden, where people are encouraged to drop their masks and show their true selves. There is, obviously, sexual energy in my work. It may be the excitement I feel when I see leather or piercings or spike-heeled boots. It may be outrageous sexual posturing, certain looks and stances that say, 'Hi there; I'm alive and I'm erotic. I'm vibrating in a certain way, and that makes you excited, doesn't it?

Q: Does all your work contain sexual dimensions?
CG: A lot of my early work was more political, but much of my later work does contain erotic dimensions. When I photograph Mardi Gras, for example, I'll capture certain types of pictures and find a certain kind of buzz. My work is not about theory--it's about practice, immediate experience. That experience may be explicitly sexual; it may be implicitly sexual. It may involve going to a pagan party and rubbing up against some latex or smelling some sweat. Other times, though, I get just as excited by the creative challenges--trying to get the composition just right, putting all those tones in the right place.

Q: Fetish has hit the mainstream. Why?
CG: "People are exploring their fantasies, experimenting with things that were formerly taboo: cross dressing, sadomasochism, dominance and submission, and so on. And others want to look the part, even if they're not heavy players. Fetish toys are fun and exciting, and fetish gear is sexy and demands attention. It looks good, it feels liberating--and it's so damn shiny!

Q: Fetish and body modification are also being exploited by mainstream commercial interests.
CG: "Any time these underground activities hit the mainstream, a lot of energy is released and a lot of money is made. Often it's disgusting, because the original impulse is watered down and cheapened beyond recognition. On the other hand, the ideas still have power, and some newcomers will find the real thing if they stick with it. Part of my job is to serve up these radical ideas and behaviors. Viewers are invited to make of them what they will.

Q: Any final words?
CG: I want to be an anthropological reporter, a romantic visionary who brings back reports from uncharted territory. My reports may come as quite a shock. But just as my work has changed my own life, the right aesthetic shock might just change your thinking--and indeed, your entire being--forever.