An unexpected moment landed in my lap: the opportunity to return to concert photography of music I’ve grown to love because of Mr. D, a musician and writer who has worked with Leonardo Pavkovic of MoonJune Records. My re-entry to photography was once again led by Tony Levin, this time in the form of the band Stick Men (read the prelude - www.danettedavis.com/journal-silent-girl-with-the-camera/2023/2/10/a-stick-men-prelude).
I always talk about my approach to photography being completely unorthodox. While I’ve been paid for my work (which I completely appreciate), the joy and excitement of photographing a live show is a real adrenaline rush for me. I feel freedom at being able to capture something unexpected even if it means something to me but no one else. I love not feeling obligated to follow long established rules of concert photography. I alone get to feel disappointed if I fail to get the perfect photograph, and if this happens I ask myself, “Why am I looking for perfect?” It’s not possible — sometimes you just miss the moment. Of course, there are also the issues of poor lighting or bands that are non-energetic.
I’ve photographed Stick Men several times, so I had a sense of their rhythm. Despite this knowledge, I was still a little bit “in my head,” because I was unfamiliar with the venues. Where to stand, what lens to use, what settings for the camera, will the lighting be good and oh, the fight with LEDs. How to navigate a venue space with awkward treks to the balcony area? I thought of all my previous experiences at strangely laid-out venues. I’m sure I’ve mentioned how challenging it was to access the balcony of the Columbia City Theater. The entrance is a gauntlet that requires entering the recording studio at the back of the main floor, climbing a flight of stairs, and then going through the green room (cue crowd of musicians and friends), to access an L-shaped balcony (by the way Mr. D called it a catwalk — whatever). Once in the balcony area, there were usually more musicians, a lighting person, someone filming video, and a few more photographers. Did I mention I probably lost ten pounds every year I photographed the Seaprog Festival? I dare anyone to attempt photographing every fantastic moment of a Johnny Unicorn performance (BTW check his other band out — Zorznijor https://zorznijor.bandcamp.com/), attempting to photograph the energy level of Johnny Unicorn. Fun! Fun! Fun!
Surprisingly, while editing the Stick Men photos, I found moments that reminded me why I love photography. The smile from a favorite guitarist (who I promised not to name), the recognition that one of the musicians has just done a head nod to the others signaling a change that reminds me of old school jazz, or the expressiveness of the drummer. I’m always giggling out loud as I work through shots from the realization that a series of photographs can show these subtle changes. It also tells me I’ve immersed myself in the music. This has led me to start photographing musicians’ or bands’ eccentricities. In this case, Tony’s rapid finger changes, Pat’s joy and focus, and Markus’s chill appearance. There are musical changes that my ear hears and my camera captures. Lastly, I was reminded of another bit of concert photography advice — to always photograph the drummer. They are generally forgotten in concert photography. My return made me realize I have a thing about photographing drummers. I’m drawn to the challenge of getting a photo that shows them in movement and their facial expressions. I not only hear the style of their play, I see it. So sorry, not sorry, for the amount of Pat Mastelotto pics.
