I’ve been thinking about a conversation I had recently with a fellow artist. I mentioned that I’ve been looking for my people - fellow photographers to discuss the craft and history of photography. My friend’s advice was that it’s all right to make your own family. I realized I’ve always connected with people in this way. I’ve formed a variety of friends. It was a survival mechanism often being the only brown girl in a space. The night I attended Crystal Beth’s (Beth Fleenor) final show, to promote her new album Push Thru, was an exploration in that thought process. I typically hide behind my camera. I prefer to not be noticed. It is, however, a rarity to see a woman photographer at concerts. I always smile when I do notice one. My mission that night was to open myself up to connecting with new people and to capture Crystal Beth, an artist I admire very much. Indeed the title of Push Thru is relevant to this moment of chaos and personal struggle. Crystal Beth’s vibe asks her audience to let it all go.
The lighting at the Nectar Lounge is better than most smaller clubs in Seattle. I photographed Sammus there and was really surprised by the dramatic lighting at times. Many people know I love Wong Kar-wai films. The main cinematographer on his films is Christopher Doyle. He has a way of making color pop off the screen. He embraces it rather than attempting to overly correct. If I photograph a club with lighting that relies heavily on red or blue, I attempt to figure out how to make it pop in some way. It also helps when the artist is energetic and dynamic. I want to photograph every thing, but sometimes I miss the shot and just embrace the imperfection. Film photographers didn’t always have the perfect photo, particularly some of the older rock photos and even those of jazz artists were blurry. The gallery below is a collection of photos that aren’t perceived as perfect by those in the digital age of photography. There are several photos in which the artist is out of focus but the lighting is dramatic (Michael Owcharuk, Kathy Moore, and Kathy and Beth Fleeonor).
The first time I photographed Fleenor was at an artist loft performance. In this intimate space, I was mesmerized by her voice. I kept missing the Crystal Beth & the Boom Boom band shows around town. I knew from Facebook photos these shows insisted the audience engage. She was raw, vulnerable, joyful, and danced. I love to dance, but Fleenor is unpredictable. She’s lost in the music. I knew that night I wanted to get a picture of her in flight, but I managed only one (first photo).
I realized looking through the photos of the show that I’ve photographed many Seattle musicians, and many of them seem to know me. We connect with each other sometimes in awkward conversation. I’m in awe of their musicianship and actually how kind they are. It’s always my goal to observe and document their artistry. They may not know it but they are my tribe.
