Bono

Its the Pits

The unofficial uniform for most snappers working a photography pit is something unobtrusive. Dark jeans or thick leggings and a dark t-shirt or hoody is the order of the day.

Just once in my whole pit career, I chose to throw caution and convention and dark leggings to the wind and deliberately dressed up for the occasion. This moment of madness was entirely based on a couple of stories I had A. Read about and B. Heard about by word of mouth.

So A. I’d read in a magazine how a female photographer had been photographing this band at a Stadium Gig in California and how the lead singer had bent over the edge of the stage to give her a kiss. She related how she much she had enjoyed the kiss moment and purposely neglected capturing the event on film. I was horrified.

And B. I heard how this very same stunt had also been pulled on another female photographer by the very same lead singer at a stadium gig in Belgium. “You must have got a great shot” I had remarked enviously, as the story was relayed to a gasping click of photographers (that is the word for a group of photographers - I googled it so it must be true) and she said it all happened so quickly she was totally swept off her feet, camera forgotten. I was horrified. 

So, I knew this was a thing - probably. You’d be surprised how hype and exaggeration is not uncommon in the world of celeb and celeb photographers. Problem was both aforementioned snappers were glamorous things and stood out amongst the usual jean clad thong, whereas I am dark haired and always wear black so hopefully no one will even know I’m there if I play my cards right. But this was not the time for bashfulness. I needed to make sure this stunt, if it was a stunt, if it was not hype and exaggeration, if it was going to happen, it was going to happen to me and not some blonde bombshell who may also be photographing that night.

That is I why I got myself bedecked in a florescent yellow t-shirt adorned with the friendly message ‘I hate everyone and you’re next’ in black Arial Bold printed across my chest and I even put on a bit of make up. Admittedly this lurid affair was covered by a black hoody as I sat in the pit moaning about the restrictions along with the other photographers. But as the announcements were made to ‘Take Your Seats’ and the background music was replaced with a fanfare that heralded the imminent arrival of the headline act,  I rather self consciously stripped off the hoody and put on a happy face.

The stage was of the kind that had a long cat walk around it and the pit was very narrow. The audience could easily lean over and grab a chunk of your hair to get you out of their sight if it took their fancy. I hedged my bets and put on the widest lens I owned on one of my cameras which would only be of any use if my preparations had the desired effect. 

The pit was rammed, the lights went down, the band appeared, the audience erupted and thousands of pounds worth of camera kit got glued to sweaty anxious faces.  As the singer headed our way, I peeped out from behind the camera body and eyed the lead singer with what I hoped was an 'I know you do this kiss thing stunt so do it on me please' way. To my surprise and horror it worked like a dream as he spotted me immediately. Within seconds he was lying on the stage in front of me and the screaming in the stadium was supersonic, but I heard nothing. All I could focus on was the composition in front of me, a face that filled the viewfinder, and as I leant back to get in more of the scene, I felt a chunk of my hair part ways with my scalp.

Now my camera was fixed to my face, and I was determined to keep it there for as long as possible. I pressed the shutter and the motor drive whirred - no that didn’t happen. I pressed the shutter and realised I’d forgotten to switch to motor drive so I madly pumped the shutter release manually and it seemed like an age between each shot. Why oh why did you forget to turn on the motor-drive complained my rapidly cramping finger. In the corner of the camera frame a hand reached out to him from over my shoulder. Bono gently pushed my camera out of the way and as he gently held his lips close to mine and waited, all I could think  of as I leaned in for the kiss was ‘Did I get the shot?’

Lights: First three, no flash

Camera: The more affordable than the F4 but just as dandy Nikon F90

Lens: The I bought it but I only use it once in a blue moon Nikon 17-35mm F2.8

Film: The will get you out of a hole when the lights are low Fuji 800

Location: A catwalk style pit in the now sadly demolished, but really missed that much Earl's Court, London