Photographing Alfred

A musician friend of mine has asked me to take pictures of her guitar - not your every day request, but one that makes sense to me - it's been a friend, companion and shoulder to cry on for most of her life - she's a one guitar kind of girl and I agreed immediately.

Most of the musicians I know and photograph have a unique and often intimate relationship with their instruments.

Guitars are so much more than wood and wire and lacquer - they have a life of their own, a partnership of sorts with their performers, a personality and a character. Some have traveled far and wide and some have barely left home but all are lovingly cared for and carried with pride, they have memories and histories and are much more than mere possessions. I've seen guitar players nearly meld with their instruments, coaxing and encouraging and praising them to do their best - they rarely disappoint and I suspect I will enjoy this particular photo shoot - it's an honor to be asked to do it, important that I get it right.

Any good photograph has more than one dimension. In nature, you try to capture the overall sense of wonder and the amazing power of simple things like sunsets and abandoned bird nests.

In sports, you look for that singular moment of triumph or defeat.

In portraits, you're aiming for the inner self of your subject, the character and experience of the old faces and the soft focus aura of the young and innocent ones.

In animals, it's the personality and the love behind the eyes.

And with musicians, it's the passion - sometimes beautiful and sometimes flawed - but always with an element of something that surpasses the melody or the lyrics, as if they hear and understand the music differently. You can see their journey and even when it's not pretty or gentle, even when it's built on pain and abuse and one failure after another, it's strikingly redemptive. There may be instant successes in many things - music is rarely if ever one of them. It may be why the faces are so etched and careworn, even the pretty ones.

All of my music photographs attempt to capture that feeling, that elusive, not always seen underneath. When I succeed, I almost feel it myself.