"SHIFT KARL MARX TO THE LEFT A BIT!"
One of the unsung heroes of the SGT. PEPPER sleeve shot, NIGEL HARTNUP tells of ink-wash, “fish fries” and leaving Marlene Dietrich in the street.
STANDING ON A RICKETY stool, which was on a table, my head was jammed sideways into the corner of the wall and the ceiling as I concentrated on the inverted image in the back of a 5x4 Sinar technical camera at full stretch on its tripod. The traditional photographer’s black cloth was not needed over my head, as the walls and ceiling of the whole studio were painted matt black. In front of me, at the far end of the studio was a scene that was to become world famous. We had been working on it solidly for a fortnight, which was a long time for any photograph, never mind a ‘mere’ record album cover. I was an assistant photographer to Michael Cooper, for his company, MC Productions Ltd, along with my friend, Trevor Sutton and a junior assistant, Andrew Boulton. Trevor and I had studied photography together at Medway College Of Art and we teamed up once again at Vogue Studios, in Hanover Square, as assistants to the fashion photographers who were contracted with them. Michael Cooper worked there and when he left in 1965 to set up his own studio he asked us to work for him and be his assistants for the princely sum of £12.10 shillings a week. As we were only getting £10 at Vogue, we both agreed. Michael was short, long-haired and wildly dressed in tight trousers, colourful shirts, long scarves and bright jackets. He was financed by the art gallery owner, Robert Fraser, who was friendly with top artists and musicians and a highly influential figure in the ’60s art and music scene. It was in Fraser’s apartment in Mayfair that the Sgt. Pepper cover was conceived from an idea by Paul McCartney and developed by the artist Peter Blake. The photograph was to be of a band on a lawn, behind the name of The Beatles made with flowers, just as the public parks often did in those days. The band was to be called ‘Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band’ and would be the alter ego of The Beatles. Behind the band would be an audience of people The Beatles respected and admired and was to include waxworks of The Beatles themselves watching their other selves. The cover art grew from there. Peter Blake drew a design and three of the Beatles wrote a list of names. Ringo said that anything the others said was fine with him. Peter, Michael and Robert also added people. Michael then contacted gardeners and ordered the wooden frame for the flowers.
THIS LIST OF NAMES came to us at the studio and when Michael Cooper flew to New York to research the Rolling Stones cover for Their Satanic Majesties Request, we got down to finding suitable photographs of everyone that had been suggested. This wasn’t easy. We mostly used specialised photo libraries such as the BBC Radio Times Hulton Picture Library, but sometimes we had to source directly from friends or family. John arranged for Stuart Sutcliffe’s photo to come by special delivery from his parents. The Liverpool football player Albert Stubbins came by post from LFC. As they arrived, we photographed the head shots and enlarged them to life size on 20x16 paper and sent them off to be professionally mounted on hardboard. Some of the characters were very beautiful full-length figures, such as Marlene Dietrich and Tom Mix, so we decided to get a photo lab to print and mount them full size as we didn’t have such equipment in Chelsea Manor Studios. We then hired a carpenter to come with his jigsaw and carefully cut them out. My biggest contribution came next. My dad had always loved photography and when he was younger, he coloured many of his favourite hand-printed black-and-whites with photographic dyes and he taught me how to tint photos this way. It’s not easy. You have to be patient, yet fast, and put on a layer of diluted dye, then wipe it off, then another, wipe it off, then another, until you get the subtle result required. It’s tedious work that needs patience and care. I tried to teach the others how to do it, but one person was a disaster, and wasn’t allowed to do a second one. Just look at Aldous Huxley! I was most proud of Marlene Dietrich, H. G. Wells, W. C. Fields, Max Miller and Carl Jung. I did lots of others too, and I can proudly boast that the best ones were mine, except for Tom Mix, which Trevor did. Peter Blake’s wife Jann Howarth did Tyrone Power and Oliver Hardy – perhaps a couple more. The problems started when the frame arrived for the garden. Trevor and I were horrified to see the size, as it was far too big for the studio. The idea had been for the garden to be surrounded by grass, then a gap for the band to stand in, and behind that would be the crowd. Some depth was essential to give a more realistic feel to the shot. Now, with such a large garden, that was not possible, as it had to be farther away from the
camera and the final effect would be flat, which was how it turned out. We suggested to Michael our plan to reflect light from a false ceiling, but he said that he wanted to use his signature lighting of ‘fish fry’ (a large rectangular box with a flash unit inside and a white plastic sheet that made the effect less harsh) and strip lights, and wouldn’t listen to our technical advice that it wouldn’t cover such a large set. So we put it all together, the gardeners cut the heads off the hyacinths and constructed the garden and only then did Michael realise that the lighting he’d planned wouldn’t work. So, with a studio full of people and the set almost complete, he announced that we had to construct a false ceiling and bounce the light off that. We couldn’t believe it! This would have been much easier to do when we suggested it in the first place and now we had to pretend it was his idea and go through the difficult process of building it all, with the flower garden underneath. I was furious, but just had to quietly get on with it. Then we had to put the camera as far away and as high as possible, which meant putting the tripod on a table and extend it to full stretch, which meant that I had to be the one who managed the camera, as I’m 6’2” tall. So my head was squashed into the corner between wall and ceiling as I tried to yell instructions to Trevor and Andy where and how things in the set should be arranged. A particular problem was the reflections from the photographs of the heads. “Tilt Bob Dylan forward a bit. Yes. Now push Mae West’s right shoulder back – not that much – Yes. Now, shift Karl Marx to the left a bit!” I suddenly realised what I’d said and had to laugh, but nobody else spotted it and wondered why I was amused. It was bizarre. Meanwhile, soul music throbbed constantly in the studio, headed by Otis Redding, Wilson Pickett, Booker T. And The M.G.’s and many albums that were unavailable in England. Few people stood still. Everybody was moving some part of their body with the beat. The joint was jumping, as they say.
IT WAS NOT JUST THE photographic crew and The Beatles there. There were two people from Madame Tussauds who had arrived earlier in the day with all the waxworks. I was particularly amused by Sonny Liston, who arrived without his head, which came separately, in a box, with lots of padding. It was very realistic and sinister and I remember taking a photograph of the bizarre boxed head. When he was assembled, I was delighted to discover that he was smaller than me, and I had Trevor take a photo to prove it. We were very grateful for the waxworks, but had to be very careful with them, as they are very valuable. We weren’t allowed to handle them. Another problem arose at this time. Communication between me, on the camera, and Trevor and Andy on the set was crucial, but there were so many people in the studio that I could not be heard. Also, so many people were smoking that the atmosphere was thickening and threatening the air quality. I have to say that it was not just tobacco, but lots of weed was being passed around. The three of us didn’t partake until it was all finished, as we had serious work to do. Eventually, I just had to throw everybody out while we put the delicate finishing touches to the set. When they were allowed to return, they were not permitted to smoke, at least not in the studio! When the time arrived to take the photos, Michael stood in front of the table and directed The Beatles and told me when to press the trigger. So it was actually me who took the photographs. It was normal at the time for the assistant to be on the camera when dealing with large-format, technical cameras and it certainly doesn’t mean I claim them as mine. I just pressed the shutter. We finished late in the evening, but one of the best restaurants in London, Alvaro’s, was just along the King’s Road and stayed open for us. I was very proud of Marlene, so I walked along to the meal with her tucked under my arm. When I got there, it didn’t seem appropriate to take her inside, so I propped her up by the doorway on the street until we’d finished eating! This figure was to resell in 2003 for £86,000. Goodness only knows what it’s worth now – and I’d left her in the street!