A NIGHT IN THE LIFE OF A CONCERT PHOTOGRAPHER
EVER WONDERED WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BARRIER, SNAPPING THOSE ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME SHOTS OF YOUR FAVOURITE BANDS TEARING SHIT UP?
Ever wondered what it’s like to be on the other side of the barrier, snapping those once-in-a-lifetime shots of your favourite bands shredding up a storm? Our resident photographer Peter Zaluzny runs us through the chaos.
Live music photography is a damn fun job, but alas, it’s far less glamorous than it seems. Those people you see scurrying around between the barrier and the stage for three songs, well, unless we’re working for the band or artist, we can’t access all areas, we rarely get backstage, and we almost never get to meet them. Sorry to kill the legend.
But really, the challenge of getting photos during the chaos of a concert is a hell of a lot more satisfying than going backstage anyway. We usually only get 15 minutes to grab enough photos for a gallery, in an environment that’s completely out of our control. That is unless it’s a punk band, in which case you have about six minutes to frantically get all the shots. We have to pay attention to a thousand different things every single second; because a momentary lapse in concentration means we could miss that killer shot that defines the concert.
I’ve been shooting shows for about ten years now and these days I pretty well follow the same steps when it’s time to get to work. So please, come with me into the photo pit for three songs, and I’ll show you what it’s like.
THE BUILD-UP
We usually get to enter the pit a few minutes before the gig starts. That’s planning time. I scope the stage size, try to suss the lighting, I think about how the artist moves around the space (based on previous concerts) and then pick the lens I want to start with based on those aspects.
If they keep things laid-back with very little movement, then a normal zoom or telephoto lens is my go-to, so I can capture the emotion in their faces and their interactions with the instruments. Energetic musicians or solo artists’ that love getting close to the stage, like rappers, can really benefit from an ultrawide lens as you have the flexibility to capture their whole body.
Stage setup is always in the back of my mind, too, especially lighting. Artists that play in the dark force you to use lenses that perform well in those conditions. But huge productions with lots of props can make for really interesting shots, and I always try to capture aspects that represent the entire performance, if it extends beyond the musicians.
Then, while I’m still getting my head around everything, the lights dim and everybody starts to cheer. That’s when the countdown begins.
THE FIRST SONG
Everything happens at once in the first minute. I quickly get a feel for the crowd, the band, and their stage setup. Hopefully the lens I decided to start with is the right one, otherwise I have to waste valuable seconds by making a quick change.
Straight off the bat I look for interesting or active band members, enthusiastic fans and other photographers. No one likes a photographer that shoves their way around the pit with zero regard for everyone else.
It gets a bit chaotic as you try to get the shots while dodging security, other photographers and the occasional crowd surfer. It’s hot, crowded, chaotic and one of the most exciting parts of the show. Most bands want to set the tone straight away, so they tend to go all out in the first song to turn things up to 11. Whether they’re an unhinged metalcore act or a low-key acoustic solo guitarist, they do what they can to bridge the gap between the crowd and stage. When you’re smack bang in the middle of that, you can get some great shots.
Interesting members make for good photo galleries, but I’ve made the mistake of focusing on one to get the dream shot only to realise that our time in the pit is over. Though one can hold your attention, it’s always important to represent the entire group. Once I have everything figured out, I take the time to get some shots that I’m confident with so I have a gallery to submit the next day.
THE SECOND SONG
The first song ends, the crowd roars, you wipe the sweat off your brow as the adrenaline rush kicks in and you have about 15 seconds to compose yourself before the next song starts. After that, I usually go one of two ways.
If the musicians are generally static, then I start to experiment. Switch out a few lenses, play with different settings and focus on various features like their faces or instruments. It’s also a good chance to play with light if their rig is particularly eye catching.
Wild performances from bands like Dillinger Escape Plan (RIP) are basically survival mode. Sure I still try to mix things up, but on nights like this, it’s about capturing the energy of the performance above all else.
It’s not uncommon for bands to pull things back a touch at this point, after pouring everything into the introduction. But things are rarely predictable during concerts and I always face at least one curveball that throws me off my game for a few seconds.
But the band directs my photos in a way, so I’m constantly paying attention to their gestures, movements and how they interact with one another and the crowd. These can be good indicators for great shots that are moments away.
There’s actually nothing worse than watching an amazing moment play out, like a musician making an unexpected journey into the crowd,
and the lens on your camera isn’t suitable to get the shot. But we don’t have time to focus on the photos we didn’t get. In any case, I generally have enough photos for a gallery by the end of song two.
THE THIRD SONG
At this point I’m either having a great time, enjoying the show and feeding off the energy on stage and in the crowd, or totally freaking out about how I haven’t snapped a single good shot. I spend this time trying to get shots I noticed during the first two songs, but missed for one reason or another. Alternatively, if I have all the shots I need, I’ll turn my camera to the crowd and get a few photos of the front row, or the mosh if it’s particularly wild.
I try to restrain myself as well. Digital photography gives you the freedom to endlessly snap away, which is great because it allows you to make mistakes. However, if you’re constantly shooting just because you can, you usually wind up with 100 identical photos when you only need one for the gallery. In the end, you’re just giving yourself unnecessary work to do. So if I think I’ve got all the shots I need, I’ll just watch the show from the side of the pit, to identify little unique things I can photograph, that I may have missed at the beginning.
I also take the opportunity to let myself cut loose, just a bit. I’ll bop along and quietly sing if I know the words. Some people view this as a bit unprofessional, but I think it’s fine as long as you don’t get in anyone’s way or become a distraction. Plus, if a band member notices you enjoying the show, they may pull a face, pose or stare down the lens, which can make for some killer shots.
AFTER THE PIT
Once the third song is done, security appears to escort us out of the pit. We don’t usually get to stick around and watch during the bigger shows, but bands/management/the venue is usually cool if it’s a small or midsized joint. Sometimes we can keep shooting from the crowd, but that’s usually reserved for festivals.
That’s when the ballsy photographers go into the pit and get crowd shots. I’ve been in from time to time, trying to remember that I should always protect the camera first because bones heal but lenses don’t. But I’ve become something of a wimp these days and prefer to steer clear of any sort of injuries.
Then finally, we’re done. I’ve usually been in intense work mode for just under half an hour by the time I stop shooting and once the rush wears off, I feel pretty exhausted. That’s when I put my camera away, head to the bar, grab a beer and enjoy the show. Some might say clocking off with a drink is the best part, but nothing compares to those three songs in the photo pit.