PAPER ROUTE REDUX

I realized that I ended up skipping right on over my PaperRoute blog post that I wrote a few months ago.  I think they are coming back in town soon, so, in honor of an upcoming Paper Route show, my original blog post:

Ok, full disclosure. I knew these guys from my Nashville days… We ran in overlapping circles and would end up at the same party or cookout or concerts from time to time. In fact, I remember being over at a friends house and everyone was just shooting the breeze and Chad (bass) started talking about the studio he was working in and how he was thinking about getting some old band-mates together to write and record some music to “cleanse [his] musical palate from that stuff” (read: crap) he was having to work on during the day.  Everyone was like, “cool, you want to start a band?” Not too uncommon a thing in Nashville. Well, yeah, seems he wasn’t joking around. Needless to say, I have been a fan from the beginning.  I believe in the guys, in what they are doing, and in the music itself.

I have been consolidating my business lately, refining goals, and making plans on the direction(s) that I want to be headed.  That is huge for me because, to be honest, I am not a detail guy.  I have no five year plan (they seem irrelevant to me - the people who are doing exactly what they planned 5 years ago tend to scare the crap out of me…), I have very little micro-awareness.  I am a completely macro, big idea type of guy.  I tend to bounce like a pinball, making it up as I go.  I find it to be more interesting, to be more exciting, and honestly, to have generally worked out pretty well thus far. I am not saying that I am giving that up, but I think that there is a sweet spot that exists between my nebulous big ideas and the tedious micro-managing. It is in that place that I am creating my optimal blend of focus/progress and vision/execution.  I know that it is needed to move to the “next level.”  And that is what I want to do.

All that to say, PRACTICE has become a big mantra of mine as of late. Part “don’t wait for the paying gigs,” part “focused test shooting,” and just a little bit of “showing up” in general… These are the little disciplines that I am trying to work on.  Not just taking a picture of anything and everything (that is what an iPhone camera is for), but making the kind of images that I want to be making.  Visualize, plan, execute.  It equips you when you get the bigger jobs, when you have to push through the inevitable (and occasionally crushing) fear that comes with doing creative work.  The pressure to make something interesting is often overcome in the ability to fall back on the confidence that comes from repetition and practice.

Anyways, whenever these guys come in to town (which has been several times in the last few months), we will usually meet up for dinner and then Anne and I will go and catch their show.  I generally don’t bring a camera because to be honest, I am just not a fan of taking pictures during a concert.  I am first and foremost a music fan.  I don’t find many things more moving than really good music and getting the chance to see it created right there in front of you is, for me, sacred ground.  For a few moments all the pieces come together and wrap up into something much bigger than the individual parts…a mystical blend of elements: the audience, the drums, the guitars, the voices, the feelings, the sound, the smell.  There is a word for it: EPIPHANY (literally, “to stand outside of yourself”).  For me, those are fleeting moments and I don’t want to miss it because I have a camera. Some people can experience the music AND be taking pictures.  I cannot.  So, I don’t.

But there isn’t any reason that I couldn’t make a few images after the show, right?  Originally I thought I might try and make some portraits with my portable seamless setup (like the StreetPortraits).  The PR guys would be disheveled and hot and tired and generally look like they had just played a show.  Might be interesting.  I ended up nixing that idea simply because it felt a little limiting.  Plus Jeremy Cowart had just done a series of fantastic images for the album packaging that included individual shots in front of both white and dark backgrounds (well, I mean the “dark” was just night, but same idea).  I have been shooting some long exposure stuff that ends up being streaky and moody and thought that it might really fit the mood of their music… Also, this idea allowed me to shoot at night (ideal for them cause after the gig allows the most time), would mostly hide the inevitable post-concert disheveled look, and would not require me to get them all to travel to a separate location…

I called the guys and ran it by them, and asked if they might take an hour after the show and make some images.  Just for my book.  No one is getting paid, no one is stressed.  Let’s just hang out and shoot a bit.  No agenda other than that.  They were into it. Let’s do it.

Now, I have to stop here and say, I became instantly terrified. Terrified that I wouldn’t be able to come up with something, terrified that I will make a fool of myself (somehow), terrified that the whole thing will end up being an epic, colossal failure. I know that seems strange to say, but I mention that is because I think that it is extremely common.  Seriously, every single time that I pick up my camera there is (even if it is just in tiny doses) RESISTANCE. Stephen Pressfield, in his book The War of Art, calls this “resistance” what it actually is: FEAR.  Fear of failure, fear of the dark, fear of who knows what. Fear of the unknown and the accompanying combinations of irrelevant worst-case scenarios. Getting over the fear is, to me, often the real work.  Once the fear is channeled, you can really get down to it.   I know that that all seems ridiculous, but I feel like we, as “creators,” rarely speak about this part of the creative process… I mean, our job is to literally bring something into the world that didn’t exist before.  Not that the process is as important as childbirth, but I feel like it is an appropriate, if a bit loose, metaphor.  Everytime we make something it is a little mini-birth. A micro-birth.  And think about all of the fear/concern/questioning that comes along with having a for-real baby.  I feel like that is where that fear comes from. And that is where the confidence that comes from repetition, from practice, really takes over.  It helps you start.  Then you can take back over…

I knew that I wanted to shoot with a single source, gelled to make some bizarre colors.  The sodium vapor street lamps, mixed with headlights/taillights, mixed with a gelled strobe could be pretty interesting.  So I laid out the gear that I thought would best suit the idea and off I went.  It was a great show.  They played well, clearly had fun, and treated everyone in the room to some great music.  After the show and after some autograph signing, I grabbed them and we went outside and around the corner to an intersection where I had set up the light on a stand. These long exposure shots aren’t that hard to take.  It is an idea that has been around for a long time and has been in vogue as of late.  The concept is pretty simple, drag the shutter to burn in ambient light and pop a flash to illuminate your subject.  No big deal.  What is difficult, however, is the focusing and composition.  If you are shooting for longer than 2-3 seconds or so (which I was), the mirror is actually locked up that entire time.  So, you can no longer see through the viewfinder to compose the images.  You are essentially shooting blind.  Suffice to say, you don’t get those light streaks/blurs by holding the camera steady.  You have to recompose several times during those 3+ seconds. Lots of trial and error.  Lot’s of chimping and as I call it, “camera math.”  The guys were generous with their time and (hopefully) had some fun collaborating.

At one point a small group of paper route fans cruised by and ended up stopping and hanging with the guys for a bit while we were shooting. It was interesting to watch them interacting with these fans who I would describe as the “early adopters.”  At one point, one of the girls was saying how sad she was that they hadn’t played her favorite song… So what did they do?  They sang it a cappella.  Right then and there.

PAPER ROUTE TV from Ryan Booth on Vimeo.

(yeah, i had to play it through my tv and film it with a G10 because of some memory card issues…)

It suddenly struck me, not only is this how you build a loyal following (brick by brick), but this how you “practice” as a musician…getting out there playing small-ish shows and riding in a van and staying late to talk to the few people who made the effort to see you.  It is playing a small club show as if you were in an arena, it is pushing through when a crowd isn’t into you.  It is pushing through consecutive 12 hours legs of a poorly routed tour.  It is, at least partly, just showing up.  Trust me, you will only be seeing Paper Route shows in large, sold-out venues not long from now and this time on the road playing these kinds of shows will undoubtedly prove invaluable.

I wished the guys safe travels and we went our separate ways.  They to pack the van, I to head to my house… In the end, the images, for me, are much less important than the process.  We both showed up that night.  I, to make some images, they to play some music.  I can’t ask for much more than that.

You know, Anne Lamott, in her wonderful book on writing, says that, quite frankly, a book won’t write itself.  You have to put “ass in chair” and peck away, bird by bird…

So here’s to some great music, great practice, and generally putting our collective “Asses in Chairs”.

Some images:

Ok, as a little post-script, a few more images…

I have been thinking about some image treatments that could translate to video work and I can’t get this super-grainy + super-pixelated look out of my head… I am shooting some test footage this week. We’ll see where it goes…

Well, let me know what you think:

Send an email to: ryanwrites[at]gmail[dot]com or just click here.