AT THE end of the 1950s and into the Sixties, when British R&B transmuted into rock music by way of the 'Mersey Sound', photography and music were symbiotic. With few exceptions, outsiders attempting to photograph the business of contemporary sounds had little feeling for the music or the people playing it. Those photographers who discovered the scene early became an integral part of it and went on to be trusted aides as the business evolved into an image conscious, multi-million dollar industry.
This cosy interaction shuddered to a halt when rock musicians started to read their own LP sleeves and convinced themselves their bank accounts proved that they were, indeed, gods on earth. Access to mansions and private planes, back stage passes and recording sessions, was something heavily negotiated by management and press honchos and entailed a publicity trade off stacked totally in the favour of the performers and record label. Hence the unique status and importance of Rolling Stone magazine, which had the eyes and ears of the all important US marketplace and, singularly, had the power to demand access for their writers and photographers - and get it!
In a convenient twist of social history, the situation has come full cycle. The new breed of musicians eschews the self-delusional trappings of elitist behaviour and prefer to step up out of the crowd to take the stage. In an era where self-image is more important than ever, a close collaboration with image-makers is the norm. And as for the photographers who choose to pursue the music industry today, there is once again the chance to make a mark on what is, after all, an arena already loaded with images of genius.
Three hundred miles from London on the northeast coast is a photographer who has already forged a reputation in the music business. Sarah Robinson returned to Yorkshire after a short period in London and created Sarahphotogirl (aka SPG), an affectionate sobriquet that stuck. In a short time she has become a trusted image-maker for bands like Blur and the Kaiser Chiefs, plus a host of lesser-known UK soundsmiths. ‘When I was at university my walls were covered in my own Blur wallpaper, in perfectly straight lines from floor to ceiling. It was these images that made me want to photograph bands for a living. I would glance around my room and think how I could improve nearly every picture if only I had been the one taking it.’
Sarah took inspiration from two other women in photography, Pennie Smith and Linda McCartney, and she freely admits their direct influence on her early work: ‘both utilized natural light in their photography to great effect and both worked almost exclusively in black and white, capturing natural and intimate images from their highly privileged positions.’ By total coincidence, her first proper ‘job’ was to photograph Blur, but only after tenaciously pursuing her dream to ‘improve’ their pictorial image: ‘...after several failed attempts with Blur's record company, press agents and Blur themselves, finally Blur's Fan Club magazine called me up and said “Ok, you can come and photograph a concert – now will you please stop pestering us!” The next time they asked it wasn’t just live photography - it was backstage!’ It was the first step in what has been a steady climb towards creating a successful professional identity tempered by a characteristic Yorkshire reserve. However, she remains charmingly enthusiastic when recollecting ‘being backstage with Blur, my first printed photograph (in Amateur Photographer magazine in 1999); travelling with rock band The Darkness, my first exhibition...’
The Sarahphotogirl brand has attracted much local press interest and even extended to regional television appearances, making the artist a celebrity in her own right. Old rocker, Rick Wakeman, even travelled ‘up north’ to present a BBC Inside Out profile on SPG, a tough job, but someone had to do it. ‘Often people ask me if it wouldn’t be better to live in London,’ she says, ‘down there I was a small photo-fish in a big sea of other photographers and here I’m a much bigger photo-fish in a perfectly sized lake. Sure there’s more work in London but hey, you know what, there’s a lot more photographers fighting for it too.’
But just as in the early Sixties, the bands she works with recognise the same warpaint and feel confident she is a member of the same cultural tribe: ‘[it] is always a completely individual experience. One band will be fantastic, down to earth and a pleasure to work with – the next will be a total pain in the ass! It doesn’t matter if they are a new band or one that’s been established for twenty years. I’ve seen egos more inflated than the price of fuel on band’s that aren’t even signed - and yet established artists such as Paul Weller or Blur have somehow mellowed over the years’. But the aim is no different to any photographer - to create a quality and lasting image. Sarahphotogirl has a clear vision of she wants to achieve with her camera: ‘...ultimately it’s a photograph that stops a person doing what they are doing and makes them look. Whether it’s good composition, a poignant moment in time frozen forever, clever and artistic manipulation which makes the mundane elegantly surreal - or simply the glint of an eye from which so much can be read - these are all things that make a great photograph. My philosophy is never create for anyone else – that’s a bi-product ’. And who would she really like access to for the ultimate session? not a rocker but a writer. ‘I would most like to photograph my favourite author, a man who works under the pen name of Lemony Snicket. I’ve heard he randomly walks into shopping centres with an accordion and just starts playing, which is admittedly fairly normal for a busker but not for a top selling children’s author.’
‘There is something about Scarborough which inspires me to create things - I seem to have more freedom to develop and be unique here. And I’ve changed as a result of this – my recent works are bizarre and fantastical and I love just being me and being in control of my own development.’
www.sarahphotogirl.com
Born in Yorkshire, England, Mike von Joel is a curator, printmaker, cartoonist, critic, lecturer and writer; and has been involved with cutting edge, independent visual arts magazines for over 25 years. Currently founding editor of State of Art, he has contributed to a number of publications over the years including Tatler and Vogue. In 1984 he wrote the 'definitive' book on illegal radio stations, Pirate Radio: Then & Now.
