Firty years ago, 1961, Bob Dylan moved to NYC an unknown “folk singer”,

The Beatles were playing in Hamburg an unknown band, and the top 40 was dominated by Fats Domino, Roy Orbison, Chuck Berry and Lawrence Welk. I was a kid attending a summer camp in south Louisiana when one of the counselors pounded out “Take Five” on the piano.

I remember the upright piano sat in a corner  under a high ceilinged outdoor covered pavilion.

My counselor a young man in his twenties tickled the keys and I was spellbound. “What are you playing?” He said something like, “It’s jazz.  A tune called, ‘Take Five’ by Dave Brubeck, cool, huh?”  Cool yes.  I was in love with something new.

Twenty-five years later, I was the chief photographer for the University of Washington (UW)

where Dave Brubeck was to play a concert on campus.  More importantly, for me, he was going to be interviewed on “Upon Reflection” a UW cable access interview program. A short time before this I had approached the interviewer/producer of the show with a proposition. If he gave me 10 minutes of studio time with his guests, I’d give him glossy 8x10s of his guests and him. That became a very creatively fulfilling partnership.

In the 1980s Dave Brubeck’s music had taken him around the world and back.

My idea was to evoke the mood of late night on a fog soaked deck of a trans-Atlantic steam ship complete with lights streaming through the soup. 

Brubeck Fog Test (dig the cool 80s hair)

I tested the set a few times and it was great.  However, without the fog,  it showed it’s very low production values, in other words, to my eyes it was rough and ugly.

Nervously anxious on the morning of the photoshoot,  I checked and rechecked everything to guarantee session perfection.   Life, however,  has a way of offering it’s own twist on perfection as I was to soon discover. About 30 minutes before the portrait, I walked to the campus concert hall to escort Dave Brubeck to my studio.

As I waited in the wings, I watched him practicing on the piano and observed all the pre-concert preparation.  A stage hand suggested I speak to Dave’s manager and pointed him out…

I walked over introduced myself and laid out the plan.

The manager countered that Dave was “really busy” preparing and wouldn’t have time to amble over to my studio. He, the manager, suggested I take a few snaps while he played.

I was discouraged but determined. I thanked Mr. Manager and walked out on the stage to take a few photos.  My mind  searched for a solution to this hurdle. How to salvage weeks of preparation and get him into my studio? Then the idea hit me.

At a break from his practice, I walked over to Dave, introduced myself and said that I was there to escort him to my studio.

He seemed a little puzzled and asked if the manager knew about this. I, truthfully, replied yes, “Your manager knows we have a studio appointment”.  Dave smiled and said, “Sounds like fun and anything my manager wants is OK with me. Let me just finish up here; just a couple more minutes.”

I walked over to the manager and informed him that Dave was looking forward to the photo session, technically the “truth” and the manager said, “Anything Dave wants is fine by me.”

Dave and I left shortly after that for the studio. My young heart was pumping as I envisioned the session. On the way out, Dave asked his close friend, colleague and UW music faculty, Bill Smith,  to join us in the session. No problem, roll with the situation.

Once in my studio, I eagerly laid out my idea and waited to get started.  Dave queried,  “Are you using oil based fog?” “Yes,” I replied. He quickly informed me of that oil based fog often constrited his vocal chords leaving him literaly speechless.  Outwardly I was cordial, thoughtful, and attempting self-assuredness. Inwardly stunned and paniced I thought:

“What do you do now? He’s in the studio and the clock is ticking. Think, think, what to do?” 

Dave Brubeck set without fog

I began with shots of him and his pal sitting on the trunk. Then asked for a few minutes with Dave alone. Shooting with my ever present Hasselblad, I slapped on the 60mm, slightly wide angle lens, and moved closer and closer finally filling the entire frame with his head. Perhaps bemused or cautious of losing a tooth, he moved his fingers to his chin. The right shot.

Dave Brubeck 1984

Then our time was up and he was gone.

That evening at the concert he played a knock out set  including “Take Five.”

Postscript:

I sent Dave a couple of 8x10s from the shoot and about a year later I received a call from an album designer who wanted to use one of the photos for Dave’s then soon to be released album cover art. After some price negotiating we closed the deal.