Post by wingsj0 on Dec 27, 2005 22:00:04 GMT
LOST ARCHIVE OF LOUIS ARMSTRONG PHOTOS FOUND -
By Denise Gardner.
Those who clear out their old attics occasionally stumble across a family heirloom or treasured antique. Perhaps the generations of days past knew the value of something after a lifetime of enjoying it, and saved it for their kin. But some discoveries fall outside of this typical paradigm. Consider the young adult who stows away his unpublished photographs of Louis Armstrong, only to see them resurface forty years later.
Truth is indeed stranger than fiction, for that is precisely what veteran photographer, race car driver, cave diver, and now cinematographer Bill Carlson did nearly four decades ago after a full session of photographing the great Satchmo. When asked about why his archive sat untouched, Carlson offers an explanation that borders on the eccentric:
"I think I really got distracted. I left Minneapolis in March of 1967 to work for Camera Hawaii, and then started freelancing for Time Life. From there my life changed completely. Photographers typically look towards the next image and not the last image. And if you sold an image to an editor, magazine or advertising agency, terrific. But then you just move on and it's very hard sometimes to think about the historic relevance."
Assessing the arc of his lifelong pursuits -- which include still-photography, professional car racing, cave diving, and cinematography -- one can better comprehend Carlson's apparent lack of retrospection. A freelancer with an impressive portfolio at an age when most teenagers are worried about the prom, the precocious Carlson was keen on applying the lessons of seasoned photographers during the Armstrong concert in 1966:
"There was a Life Magazine photographer who wrote an article and said that if you go to an event, see where all the photographers are, and then go somewhere else. And that just stuck with me, because if you look at a press conference, for example, all of the photographers are clustered together and they are basically all getting the same shot. And so I think the Louis Armstrong concert was probably the first time I really applied that lesson, where I looked at where all of the photographers were and shot a few shots, and then I went where they were not."
Armed with his press pass and 28mm Nikkor, Carlson ventured to the backstage area, and seized on an opportunity to capture Armstrong from a unique perspective -- from the back. As Carlson relates this moment, one senses his particular satisfaction of not subscribing to conformity:
"A security guard checked my credentials to see if I was authorized to be backstage. As I was shooting off some more film, he looked at me and said, 'You know, these aren't going to turn out.' And I said, 'really?' (Carlson smirks.) And he said, 'Yeah, you're shooting into the light.' I think that having heard that comment, I became more adventurous in terms of breaking free from the crowd, taking photographic risks, and not depending upon other people to dictate the photo that I was going to take."
The fact that the magazine that hired Carlson to photograph Louis Armstrong, Twin Cities A Go-Go, never published the images of Armstrong's performance at the Minneapolis Auditorium only enhances the photographs' must-see value. Indeed, the magazine shortly went out of business in 1966, leaving the slew of other artists that Carlson photographed for them -- including the Beach Boys and Bob Dylan -- to history.
To balance an enviable stream of achievements indicative of a Renaissance man, Bill Carlson reveals perhaps the real reason behind the 40-year lapse,
"I tend to discount my own work. I know that I am my harshest critic, which is good because you really edit your own photography. Many of the pictures that people have bought are ones that I haven't related to or wouldn't choose as my favorite. [While photographing] I was looking for the out-of-the-ordinary images, so coming around front ..... I did that. I shot that. But to me, that's what everyone else was doing."
The ever-changing Bill Carlson can now add one more category to his list of enterprises -- internet maestro. Apparently, Carlson has decided to make the bulk of his previously unpublished photos available on the web, incorporating other 60s figures besides Louis Armstrong. As if his treasure trove of Armstrong images weren't enough, Carlson has unpublished photographs of the Beatles, Bob Dylan, The Beach Boys, Richard Nixon, professional car racing, and former astronaut, Wally Schirra. When asked if there might be more
surprises in store from the award-winning photographer and cinematographer, Carlson offers an elusive retort -- "I'd rather be lucky than good."
By Denise Gardner
For more information on these and other photos from Bill Carlson, please visit his website at
www.carlsonmedia.com.
Next issue I will be talking to Bill Carlson about his photographs, his chat with George Harrison and the time he spent back stage photographing The Beach Boys.
Lucy Carter
Please note all articles on this site are (C) to The Beat Goes On And On Fanzine and may not be used without permission.
By Denise Gardner.
Those who clear out their old attics occasionally stumble across a family heirloom or treasured antique. Perhaps the generations of days past knew the value of something after a lifetime of enjoying it, and saved it for their kin. But some discoveries fall outside of this typical paradigm. Consider the young adult who stows away his unpublished photographs of Louis Armstrong, only to see them resurface forty years later.
Truth is indeed stranger than fiction, for that is precisely what veteran photographer, race car driver, cave diver, and now cinematographer Bill Carlson did nearly four decades ago after a full session of photographing the great Satchmo. When asked about why his archive sat untouched, Carlson offers an explanation that borders on the eccentric:
"I think I really got distracted. I left Minneapolis in March of 1967 to work for Camera Hawaii, and then started freelancing for Time Life. From there my life changed completely. Photographers typically look towards the next image and not the last image. And if you sold an image to an editor, magazine or advertising agency, terrific. But then you just move on and it's very hard sometimes to think about the historic relevance."
Assessing the arc of his lifelong pursuits -- which include still-photography, professional car racing, cave diving, and cinematography -- one can better comprehend Carlson's apparent lack of retrospection. A freelancer with an impressive portfolio at an age when most teenagers are worried about the prom, the precocious Carlson was keen on applying the lessons of seasoned photographers during the Armstrong concert in 1966:
"There was a Life Magazine photographer who wrote an article and said that if you go to an event, see where all the photographers are, and then go somewhere else. And that just stuck with me, because if you look at a press conference, for example, all of the photographers are clustered together and they are basically all getting the same shot. And so I think the Louis Armstrong concert was probably the first time I really applied that lesson, where I looked at where all of the photographers were and shot a few shots, and then I went where they were not."
Armed with his press pass and 28mm Nikkor, Carlson ventured to the backstage area, and seized on an opportunity to capture Armstrong from a unique perspective -- from the back. As Carlson relates this moment, one senses his particular satisfaction of not subscribing to conformity:
"A security guard checked my credentials to see if I was authorized to be backstage. As I was shooting off some more film, he looked at me and said, 'You know, these aren't going to turn out.' And I said, 'really?' (Carlson smirks.) And he said, 'Yeah, you're shooting into the light.' I think that having heard that comment, I became more adventurous in terms of breaking free from the crowd, taking photographic risks, and not depending upon other people to dictate the photo that I was going to take."
The fact that the magazine that hired Carlson to photograph Louis Armstrong, Twin Cities A Go-Go, never published the images of Armstrong's performance at the Minneapolis Auditorium only enhances the photographs' must-see value. Indeed, the magazine shortly went out of business in 1966, leaving the slew of other artists that Carlson photographed for them -- including the Beach Boys and Bob Dylan -- to history.
To balance an enviable stream of achievements indicative of a Renaissance man, Bill Carlson reveals perhaps the real reason behind the 40-year lapse,
"I tend to discount my own work. I know that I am my harshest critic, which is good because you really edit your own photography. Many of the pictures that people have bought are ones that I haven't related to or wouldn't choose as my favorite. [While photographing] I was looking for the out-of-the-ordinary images, so coming around front ..... I did that. I shot that. But to me, that's what everyone else was doing."
The ever-changing Bill Carlson can now add one more category to his list of enterprises -- internet maestro. Apparently, Carlson has decided to make the bulk of his previously unpublished photos available on the web, incorporating other 60s figures besides Louis Armstrong. As if his treasure trove of Armstrong images weren't enough, Carlson has unpublished photographs of the Beatles, Bob Dylan, The Beach Boys, Richard Nixon, professional car racing, and former astronaut, Wally Schirra. When asked if there might be more
surprises in store from the award-winning photographer and cinematographer, Carlson offers an elusive retort -- "I'd rather be lucky than good."
By Denise Gardner
For more information on these and other photos from Bill Carlson, please visit his website at
www.carlsonmedia.com.
Next issue I will be talking to Bill Carlson about his photographs, his chat with George Harrison and the time he spent back stage photographing The Beach Boys.
Lucy Carter
Please note all articles on this site are (C) to The Beat Goes On And On Fanzine and may not be used without permission.