Annie Leibovitz at Work

If you rely on the power of an image to tell a story — which is true for just about any marketer — then you owe it to yourself to read the recently published Annie Leibovitz at Work.  Leibovitz describes the stories behind noteworthy photographic shoots of her career, ranging from her astonishing American Express portraits to her coverage of the Rolling Stones’s 1975 tour.   Whether you’re a web designer, event producer, or art director, you can learn a lot from this book, such as:

* It’s better to be memorable than beautiful  “The camera is not enamored exclusively with people who are conventionally beautiful,” she writes.  “There are times when a person is powerful enough in some other way to make the photograph . . . William Burroughs was certainly not beautiful, but he was a photographer’s dream.  The camera loved that gaunt, sinister look.”

* Take what’s given to you.  Leibovitz recalls visiting Philip Johnson’s famous Glass House in New Canaan, Connecticut, relishing the opportunity to photograph this most iconic of homes.  At the time, Johnson lived in the home he’d designed, which presented some problems when she arrived for the shoot and discovered that he had no intention of leaving her alone.  “This was frustrating,” she writes.  “I knew that I should be sociable, but I wanted to study the house.”  Instead, Johnson followed her around the home attempting to make small chat and interrupting her work.  Finally she decided to include him in the photographic essay.  “In retrospect it was a rare opportunity to see someone living in a classic house,” she remembers.  “To see it being used.  It was fall and there were leaves all over.  Johnson’s dirty boots were thrown on the floor.  He was staring out at the rolling lawn and the maple trees, which were changing color.”  In other words, Johnson gave her photographs more character than would be found in photos of an empty house.  Rather than fight his presence, Leibovitz took what was given to her — and improved her work.

* Embrace limitations.  When Ogilvy and Mather hired Leibovitz to shoot celebrity portraits for American Express advertisements, Leibovitz was given two requirements: the photos had to be vertical in format and they needed to fill a page.  Basically she would need to learn how to shoot more formal looking portraits, which was not her style.  It was hard and unnatural to frame subjects in a vertical format.  Losing the horizontal image meant sacrificing background that could enrich the shot.  But she worked within the limitations — and then set out to challenge popular notions of how a portrait should look.  She created inventive, colorful portraits full of depth and intrigue, like the famous image of horse jockey Willie Shoemaker standing alongside basketball giant Wilt Chamberlain.  Placing them side by side on a Malibu beach was akin to a work of art.  (“I was thinking of circus pictures — Tom Thumb and the giant,” she writes.)

After you read Annie Leibovitz at Work, track down a copy of the Rolling Stone 1,000th issue special collectors’ edition (18 May-1 June 2006).  This issue tells the story behind the creation of Rolling Stone‘s most famous magazine covers – how the vision and style of the photographer meshed (and sometimes collided with) the expectations of the subject.  Patti Smith comments on the outcome of a photo shoot with Annie Leibovitz:: “what I really feel about this photograph is that Annie captured something about me before I knew about myself.  Later, I finally grew into that person.”  Herb Ritts discusses how he improvised a photo of Cindy Crawford by impulsively using a translucent fabric  to capture her essence in a beach pose.

Want to be a better marketer, designer, or creative director?  Leave a little room for improvisation.  And don’t miss an opportunity that presents itself like a powerful moment longing to be photographed.

Let us now praise old rock and rollers

On September 16, B.B. King turned 83, just weeks after releasing his latest recording, the well received One Kind Favor, and on the same day, 59-year-old Lindsey Buckingham blessed us with Gift of Screws, thus continuing a run of great music created by rock, country, and blues musicians who could qualify for the senior citizens discount.

Today’s older generation of pop and rock stars — the Bob Dylans, Patti Smiths, and Al Greens — have lived, lost, and flourished. They come from diverse backgrounds, but I believe these traits unite them:

  • Adventure. Robert Plant, now 60, could have rested on his laurels after Led Zeppelin broke up in 1980. Instead, he embarked on a solo career that established him as one of the most inventive musicians in rock history, not “the ex-front man for Led Zeppelin.” His work, especially in the 1990s and beyond, has explored the rhythms of North Africa, rockabilly, folk, and a dash of electronica. He doesn’t need the primal scream of Zeppelin days. On the CD Dreamland, he practically whispers folk covers, and he quietly explores blue grass with Alison Krauss in Raising Sand. Could it be that the established rockers like Plant are in a better position to take these kind of risks because they have nothing left to prove?
  • Perspective. When Paul McCartney was 24, he could only ponder turning 64 some day. In Memory Almost Full, McCartney, his 60s, could speak from experience. On his best recording in decades, he accepts his mortality but revels in the fact that his life has room for whimsy and joy. Perspective, however, also means pain. In the poignant “Mama You Sweet,” Lucinda Willaims, in her 50s, learns to say goodbye to her mother, who died in 2004. In “The Long Goodbye,” Bob Seger, in his early 60s, ruminates on the ravages of Alzheimer’s (which his family has experienced first hand). Lucinda Williams and Bob Seger have experienced the kind of loss that comes with growing older. I want to know how they feel about that.
  • Passion. I don’t particularly care what Kid Rock believes about the war in Iraq. But when Neil Young and John Fogerty vented their anger about Iraq in Living with War and Revival recently, I listened. In particular, Young has seen it all (and protested against it all) from Vietnam to Iraq. He’s earned the right to be a conscientious voice. The older rockers (especially contemporaries of Bob Dylan) came of age at a time when rock and roll meant having a point of view about society and politics. And boy, are they pissed off. John Mellencamp rails against racism in “Jenna,” and the Eagles take on empty consumerism in “Long Road out of Eden.” Whether you agree with them is beside the point. Their passionate social commentary is something sorely lacking today with the exception of rap muscians like Dr. Dre and rock bands like Radiohead.

Rock and roll still means decadence and rebellion. But “hope I die before I get old,” as Pete Townsend once famously wrote, is more myth than reality. The Bob Segers, Lindsey Buckinghams, Lucinda Williamses, and Robert Plants show us that rock also means passion, beauty, loss, adventure, and gowing old. Gracefully.

For further listening, I’ve listed below a partial roll call of excellent music from veterans since 2006:

Continue reading

Let us now praise old rock and rollers

On September 16, B.B. King turned 83, just weeks after releasing his latest recording, the well received One Kind Favor, and on the same day, 59-year-old Lindsey Buckingham blessed us with Gift of Screws, thus continuing a run of great music created by rock, country, and blues musicians who could qualify for the senior citizens discount.

Today’s older generation of pop and rock stars — the Bob Dylans, Patti Smiths, and Al Greens — have lived, lost, and flourished. They come from diverse backgrounds, but I believe these traits unite them:

  • Adventure. Robert Plant, now 60, could have rested on his laurels after Led Zeppelin broke up in 1980. Instead, he embarked on a solo career that established him as one of the most inventive musicians in rock history, not “the ex-front man for Led Zeppelin.” His work, especially in the 1990s and beyond, has explored the rhythms of North Africa, rockabilly, folk, and a dash of electronica. He doesn’t need the primal scream of Zeppelin days. On the CD Dreamland, he practically whispers folk covers, and he quietly explores blue grass with Alison Krauss in Raising Sand. Could it be that the established rockers like Plant are in a better position to take these kind of risks because they have nothing left to prove?
  • Perspective. When Paul McCartney was 24, he could only ponder turning 64 some day. In Memory Almost Full, McCartney, his 60s, could speak from experience. On his best recording in decades, he accepts his mortality but revels in the fact that his life has room for whimsy and joy. Perspective, however, also means pain. In the poignant “Mama You Sweet,” Lucinda Willaims, in her 50s, learns to say goodbye to her mother, who died in 2004. In “The Long Goodbye,” Bob Seger, in his early 60s, ruminates on the ravages of Alzheimer’s (which his family has experienced first hand). Lucinda Williams and Bob Seger have experienced the kind of loss that comes with growing older. I want to know how they feel about that.
  • Passion. I don’t particularly care what Kid Rock believes about the war in Iraq. But when Neil Young and John Fogerty vented their anger about Iraq in Living with War and Revival recently, I listened. In particular, Young has seen it all (and protested against it all) from Vietnam to Iraq. He’s earned the right to be a conscientious voice. The older rockers (especially contemporaries of Bob Dylan) came of age at a time when rock and roll meant having a point of view about society and politics. And boy, are they pissed off. John Mellencamp rails against racism in “Jenna,” and the Eagles take on empty consumerism in “Long Road out of Eden.” Whether you agree with them is beside the point. Their passionate social commentary is something sorely lacking today with the exception of rap muscians like Dr. Dre and rock bands like Radiohead.

Rock and roll still means decadence and rebellion. But “hope I die before I get old,” as Pete Townsend once famously wrote, is more myth than reality. The Bob Segers, Lindsey Buckinghams, Lucinda Williamses, and Robert Plants show us that rock also means passion, beauty, loss, adventure, and gowing old. Gracefully.

For further listening, I’ve listed below a partial roll call of excellent music from veterans since 2006:

Continue reading