Post by Salem6 on Nov 1, 2004 9:28:24 GMT
Kate Simon's striking images of the reggae kingpin capture his essence.
by Jim Macnie
(Photo: Kate Simon)
Bob Marley cackling as his band the Wailers take their reggae grooves through some very funky paces. Bob Marley sleeping, slouched on a couch while songs are sung around him. Bob Marley in a passion dance, rocking his dreads in a sprayed twirl that defines his animated stage presence. Music tells us a lot about a lot about pop heroes, but pictures – or at least the most eloquent pictures – can explain just as much. When you see reggae's most profound symbol rehearsing his group at Copenhagen's Tivoli Gardens amusement park - Tilt-a-Whirls, Ferris Wheels, and rollercoaster in the background – you get a feel for Marley the working musician, not Marley the superstar.
Kate Simon's "Rebel Music: Bob Marley and Roots Reggae" is a rich compilation of the photographer's travels with the Jamaican legend during the late '70s, and its visual candor is unusually expressive. Simon, who snapped the Clash's first album cover and documented loads of musicians throughout the years, shot Marley on numerous occasions (there are 400 images in the book, which is a limited edition of 2000 copies, each one numbered and signed). On the stage at London's Lyceum, on the bus during the famed Exodus tour – "Rebel Music" is rich with the intimacy and perspective that comes from a subject yielding to an image-maker. There's a great offhand feel at work - even the pictures of the funeral parade that stretched across Jamaica when the singer died - and it draws you into Marley's intriguing world.
Simon, who starts a show of her Jamaican archive at the Govinda Gallery in Washington, D.C. on December 3, began taking pictures of rockers in London during the early '70s. These days she makes portraits of authors, painters, and musicians (her work can be seen at Rockarchive.com ). She spoke to VH1.com about capturing someone's spirit with a photograph.
VH1: Why did you start shooting musicians?
Kate Simon: I knew I wanted to be a photographer. I went to college in Paris, and hit London afterwards, and liked it as a city. I got a job at the Photographers Gallery, which was fortuitous. Cecil Beaton and David Bailey were around, and they influenced me. I learned how to see as a photographer. It was a good environment. Someone asked me if I'd take a shot of Fairport Convention, and I was off. Music was just a part of the culture back then - it was everywhere. If something happened to a music figure, it was front page news: ROD STEWART BUYS SOME ARGYLE SOCKS! I became a staff photographer at a magazine called Disc, and then moved on to Sounds, NME, and Melody Maker. I basically shot every act that came through London. A small cache of photographers who were my friends would be in the orchestra pit of all those great theatres: Me and my colleagues, a foot a way from James Brown. It was a fantastic time.
VH1: Where you the de facto photographer for Marley?
KS: No, there were a few of us. I think everyone has a different thing they can get from a subject.
VH1: Tell me what you think you personally brought out of him and the band.
KS: Well, Bob taught me that it takes two to make a great photograph. He made himself available 100% of the time. Whenever I wanted to take a shot, I knew he'd be cool about it. It's the idea that you can't take someone's photograph, they have to give it to you. With Bob, he walked it like he talked it – he's a lovely person. I can't really say what I got versus what someone else got. I was just trying to do the best I could. Maybe there's something unique that surfaced because I'm one of the only women who photographed him. Maybe he gave me something he didn't give men.
VH1: Politics were at the heart of Marley's art. But though he was known as a serious person, the book also positions him as an easy laugher.
KS: True. It depends on what each photographer is going for. What I'm going for is nothing short of the truth. I want to get to the essence of who the person is. As you say, on one hand Bob was relaxed and chill, maybe smoking a spliff or hanging out having fun with Gilly, his cook. But you can see that he was dead serious about his music and various subjects – he was very thoughtful and very committed to his faith and to helping other people.
VH1: Can you remember your first reaction when you hit Kingston in the mid-70s? I'm talking about the town itself as well as the reggae scene. Must have been quite a spectacle.
KS: I went to Jamaica, and I'd never seen any group of people offer such a great profile. It was just screaming to be preserved. There were lots of characters down there - Bunny Wailer for instance. What a great subject, right? The streets were like a dream, a Jamaican Clint Eastwood movie. These people had more style than I'd ever seen in my life. There was just something fantastic about their inherent movement – the way they skanked down the street, the way they put their threads together. And then the cast of characters was wild. You had Lee "Scratch" Perry, Leroy Smart, Dillinger – that guy had more profile than you can imagine. Big Youth – what a face. You'd go to Scratch's studio, Black Ark, and you were always welcome, and he'd have some killer group that he'd be producing and he'd be dancing and smokin'. In 1976 the scene centered around the Sheraton. It would be like what Polo Lounge or the Beverly Hills Hotel was - one hell of a scene. Around this 50-meter swimming pool you'd see John Lydon, Joni Mitchell, Mick Jagger. Everybody made it to that pool. That's where I shot the Kaya cover.
VH1: Chris Blackwell says you had a "war correspondent" vibe when you were on the road with the Wailers.
KS: When you're shooting something as great as Bob Marley and the Wailers, you know it's an opportunity. You're focused, committed and you'll do anything to get the shot. When I got back from the Exodus tour, I literally couldn't speak for five days – that's true. I think it was a post-traumatic situation. I'm known as a blabbermouth, so that was curious.
VH1: [Rock photographer] Henry Diltz says better shots are made if you have a camaraderie with the subject. Do you need to be pals to get the job done?
KS: Yes, yes, yes. I'm quite fond of Henry Diltz's photographs, and that seems to be his approach. I'm not someone who went after all these people I shot. The Clash were my friends; that's why I did their album cover. With Marley, we had a rapport, we were simpatico. It made sense that Chris sent me on the road with him. Patti Smith or some of the others I've shot – they're pals and have become part of my tribe. You're trying to get some of the soul and the spirit of the person, and they're not going to give that away to someone who's creeping 'em out.
VH1: What are you favorite Marley tunes?
KS: Here are some songs that will give people joy. "Jah Lives," on the reissue of Rastaman Vibration. The entire Exodus record - "Guiltiness" is my favorite. "No Woman No Cry" from the Live! album. "Pass It On" from Burnin' Bunny's vocal is so beautiful and there's a great message of brotherhood. I love it when the three of 'em - Bob, Peter Tosh, and Bunny Wailer – were together. Which is why we have to give it up for "One Foundation," Peter Tosh's tune from Burnin'. Someone was telling me about this man: "You've got to photograph him; his speaking voice is fantastic." And sure enough, Tosh was a guy with a great speaking voice - so basso and profound. Lightning would fill the sky and he'd say "Jah Rastafari – you hear that lightning? I made that happen." I like "Reincarnated Souls," "Want More," "Time Will Tell," "Wake Up and Live," and "Comin' in From the Cold." I'm not a music critic, but my absolute favorite Marley tune is "Forever Loving Jah"
VH1: Your shots of Marley dancing on stage, twirling his dreads in a spray, really remind me of his performance persona – they're so vivid.
KS: This book is commerce, but it's a really a labor of love. I really liked Bob a lot. I never met a photo subject as generous as he was. When I got to the funeral pictures [which close the book] it hit me like a wall, because I hadn't looked at them since I took 'em. The funeral was like a Cecil B. DeMille movie – the whole island came out in love for Bob. There was a four-and-a-half-hour drive, from Kingston to St. Anne, where he was put in a family mausoleum; people were booming Marley music all along the way. I was right in front of the car he was in...I think this will hit everyone: you're going along in the book, and you're involved in the spirit of the Rastafarians, Kingston, the Wailers. And then the funeral is just – WHOMP! You really see how this person, who was imbued with such vitality, had such an impact. He was all about positive energy. On the Exodus tour, whenever he hit "Lively Up Yourself," the audience was his.
Rebel Music is $395. It's available from www.genesis-publications.com.
www.vh1.com/news/articles/1493060/20041026/marley_bob.jhtml?headlines=true&_requestid=262051
by Jim Macnie
(Photo: Kate Simon)
Bob Marley cackling as his band the Wailers take their reggae grooves through some very funky paces. Bob Marley sleeping, slouched on a couch while songs are sung around him. Bob Marley in a passion dance, rocking his dreads in a sprayed twirl that defines his animated stage presence. Music tells us a lot about a lot about pop heroes, but pictures – or at least the most eloquent pictures – can explain just as much. When you see reggae's most profound symbol rehearsing his group at Copenhagen's Tivoli Gardens amusement park - Tilt-a-Whirls, Ferris Wheels, and rollercoaster in the background – you get a feel for Marley the working musician, not Marley the superstar.
Kate Simon's "Rebel Music: Bob Marley and Roots Reggae" is a rich compilation of the photographer's travels with the Jamaican legend during the late '70s, and its visual candor is unusually expressive. Simon, who snapped the Clash's first album cover and documented loads of musicians throughout the years, shot Marley on numerous occasions (there are 400 images in the book, which is a limited edition of 2000 copies, each one numbered and signed). On the stage at London's Lyceum, on the bus during the famed Exodus tour – "Rebel Music" is rich with the intimacy and perspective that comes from a subject yielding to an image-maker. There's a great offhand feel at work - even the pictures of the funeral parade that stretched across Jamaica when the singer died - and it draws you into Marley's intriguing world.
Simon, who starts a show of her Jamaican archive at the Govinda Gallery in Washington, D.C. on December 3, began taking pictures of rockers in London during the early '70s. These days she makes portraits of authors, painters, and musicians (her work can be seen at Rockarchive.com ). She spoke to VH1.com about capturing someone's spirit with a photograph.
VH1: Why did you start shooting musicians?
Kate Simon: I knew I wanted to be a photographer. I went to college in Paris, and hit London afterwards, and liked it as a city. I got a job at the Photographers Gallery, which was fortuitous. Cecil Beaton and David Bailey were around, and they influenced me. I learned how to see as a photographer. It was a good environment. Someone asked me if I'd take a shot of Fairport Convention, and I was off. Music was just a part of the culture back then - it was everywhere. If something happened to a music figure, it was front page news: ROD STEWART BUYS SOME ARGYLE SOCKS! I became a staff photographer at a magazine called Disc, and then moved on to Sounds, NME, and Melody Maker. I basically shot every act that came through London. A small cache of photographers who were my friends would be in the orchestra pit of all those great theatres: Me and my colleagues, a foot a way from James Brown. It was a fantastic time.
VH1: Where you the de facto photographer for Marley?
KS: No, there were a few of us. I think everyone has a different thing they can get from a subject.
VH1: Tell me what you think you personally brought out of him and the band.
KS: Well, Bob taught me that it takes two to make a great photograph. He made himself available 100% of the time. Whenever I wanted to take a shot, I knew he'd be cool about it. It's the idea that you can't take someone's photograph, they have to give it to you. With Bob, he walked it like he talked it – he's a lovely person. I can't really say what I got versus what someone else got. I was just trying to do the best I could. Maybe there's something unique that surfaced because I'm one of the only women who photographed him. Maybe he gave me something he didn't give men.
VH1: Politics were at the heart of Marley's art. But though he was known as a serious person, the book also positions him as an easy laugher.
KS: True. It depends on what each photographer is going for. What I'm going for is nothing short of the truth. I want to get to the essence of who the person is. As you say, on one hand Bob was relaxed and chill, maybe smoking a spliff or hanging out having fun with Gilly, his cook. But you can see that he was dead serious about his music and various subjects – he was very thoughtful and very committed to his faith and to helping other people.
VH1: Can you remember your first reaction when you hit Kingston in the mid-70s? I'm talking about the town itself as well as the reggae scene. Must have been quite a spectacle.
KS: I went to Jamaica, and I'd never seen any group of people offer such a great profile. It was just screaming to be preserved. There were lots of characters down there - Bunny Wailer for instance. What a great subject, right? The streets were like a dream, a Jamaican Clint Eastwood movie. These people had more style than I'd ever seen in my life. There was just something fantastic about their inherent movement – the way they skanked down the street, the way they put their threads together. And then the cast of characters was wild. You had Lee "Scratch" Perry, Leroy Smart, Dillinger – that guy had more profile than you can imagine. Big Youth – what a face. You'd go to Scratch's studio, Black Ark, and you were always welcome, and he'd have some killer group that he'd be producing and he'd be dancing and smokin'. In 1976 the scene centered around the Sheraton. It would be like what Polo Lounge or the Beverly Hills Hotel was - one hell of a scene. Around this 50-meter swimming pool you'd see John Lydon, Joni Mitchell, Mick Jagger. Everybody made it to that pool. That's where I shot the Kaya cover.
VH1: Chris Blackwell says you had a "war correspondent" vibe when you were on the road with the Wailers.
KS: When you're shooting something as great as Bob Marley and the Wailers, you know it's an opportunity. You're focused, committed and you'll do anything to get the shot. When I got back from the Exodus tour, I literally couldn't speak for five days – that's true. I think it was a post-traumatic situation. I'm known as a blabbermouth, so that was curious.
VH1: [Rock photographer] Henry Diltz says better shots are made if you have a camaraderie with the subject. Do you need to be pals to get the job done?
KS: Yes, yes, yes. I'm quite fond of Henry Diltz's photographs, and that seems to be his approach. I'm not someone who went after all these people I shot. The Clash were my friends; that's why I did their album cover. With Marley, we had a rapport, we were simpatico. It made sense that Chris sent me on the road with him. Patti Smith or some of the others I've shot – they're pals and have become part of my tribe. You're trying to get some of the soul and the spirit of the person, and they're not going to give that away to someone who's creeping 'em out.
VH1: What are you favorite Marley tunes?
KS: Here are some songs that will give people joy. "Jah Lives," on the reissue of Rastaman Vibration. The entire Exodus record - "Guiltiness" is my favorite. "No Woman No Cry" from the Live! album. "Pass It On" from Burnin' Bunny's vocal is so beautiful and there's a great message of brotherhood. I love it when the three of 'em - Bob, Peter Tosh, and Bunny Wailer – were together. Which is why we have to give it up for "One Foundation," Peter Tosh's tune from Burnin'. Someone was telling me about this man: "You've got to photograph him; his speaking voice is fantastic." And sure enough, Tosh was a guy with a great speaking voice - so basso and profound. Lightning would fill the sky and he'd say "Jah Rastafari – you hear that lightning? I made that happen." I like "Reincarnated Souls," "Want More," "Time Will Tell," "Wake Up and Live," and "Comin' in From the Cold." I'm not a music critic, but my absolute favorite Marley tune is "Forever Loving Jah"
VH1: Your shots of Marley dancing on stage, twirling his dreads in a spray, really remind me of his performance persona – they're so vivid.
KS: This book is commerce, but it's a really a labor of love. I really liked Bob a lot. I never met a photo subject as generous as he was. When I got to the funeral pictures [which close the book] it hit me like a wall, because I hadn't looked at them since I took 'em. The funeral was like a Cecil B. DeMille movie – the whole island came out in love for Bob. There was a four-and-a-half-hour drive, from Kingston to St. Anne, where he was put in a family mausoleum; people were booming Marley music all along the way. I was right in front of the car he was in...I think this will hit everyone: you're going along in the book, and you're involved in the spirit of the Rastafarians, Kingston, the Wailers. And then the funeral is just – WHOMP! You really see how this person, who was imbued with such vitality, had such an impact. He was all about positive energy. On the Exodus tour, whenever he hit "Lively Up Yourself," the audience was his.
Rebel Music is $395. It's available from www.genesis-publications.com.
www.vh1.com/news/articles/1493060/20041026/marley_bob.jhtml?headlines=true&_requestid=262051
