Gnumoon's Stuff

Merlefest Live Blogging, Day 2

- Perfect weather. oooohhhhhh it's nice!

- It is too sunny. Even though I'm in tent, it's so bright out here that photo editing besides cropping is virtually impossible.
<-This photo, for example...I know it is very strangely colorized, but I can't tell exactly how, so I can't fix it right now.

- Lots of dudes in skirts. Some are kilts, some are hiking skirts. I'm confused- I don't have the parts, but I'd imagine the balls, they sweat. Ew.

- Every year at this festival I discover a new band to love. So far the frontrunner this year is The Waifs, an Australian group.

- You can always tell when the "headliner" bands show up, because the nice tour buses appear in the gravel lot backstage. There's a lovely shiny shiny black and red one back here now, but I'm not sure who it belongs to.

- I underestimated the heat today. I'm not comfy in just pants and a pink tank top, but I might actually pass out if I was wearing my hoodie. Luckily my camera is really heavy, so it kind of makes my arms look muscley, even if the rest of me looks flabby.

- There are ZERO other female photographers besides me here. I keep getting weird looks from the crowd, and once I confirmed that there was no booger present, it occurred to me that I just look much different than the others. Oh well. Maybe if I was wearing a skirt I'd blend in?

- I just took a little break and sat and watched a band. It was very nice, but I of course ended up people-watching instead of band-listening. There is a high percentage of hippies here, and besides the usual hippie twirling-hula-hooping thing, I now notice little hippie babies. All hippies have babies; it comes with the dreds and earth shoes. (You can tie-dye a shitload of onesies with one box of RIT, by the way.)

So I was watching this one cute little hippie family and I started noticing things that didn't jive ... for example, they had this stroller that costs $1300. I know it does because I think I loudly mentioned it in the store ... "WHO would pay that much for a stroller?! How bourgeois!" (You know what irony is?) The parents also had on matching Merrills, a 3.0 Kelty pack (the $300 version to my $100 cheapo) and were snacking on uber-expensive local organic yogurt.

Ah, so not hippies, then. Trustafarians. Riiiight. These are people who ACT like hippies, but have the money to buy nice expensive things while pretending to be broke and not cowing to the Man. My town is overrun with them. Other tip-offs are: Brand new Land Rovers or Subarus, perfect straight white teeth, and lack of tattoos. Also any overtly stereotypical hippie behavior may help you spot them - it's an overcompensation mechanism. LOTS of patchoulli? LONG dreds? INORDINATE amounts of body hair? The tendency to loudly write off Trey Anastasio because he "like, sold out the rest of the band"? These are all signs to look for.

There is nothing wrong with TFarians, by the way, but those who don't know what to look for might mistake them for something different. I'm just providing a public service, you see. Their kid was 100% adorable, and incredibly well-behaved, so they are doing something right.

Merlefest Live blogging, Day 1

Ah, here I am again at MerleFest. Hard to believe it's my 3rd year. So far:

- At least 6 people have asked me how my baby is. Last year I was stage-blockingly pregnant. Everyone here is so incredibly nice, but I'm even shocked that they remember.

- I have had to go to the car a few times to pump. I am doing the "pumping in the car" world tour- National Championship games, music festivals ... where could be next? Stay tuned!

- I have now been to this festival enough that several performers have greeted me with a hug.

- The currently-playing band has a rhythm guitar player who looks like the love child of Mick Jagger and Tm Petty. I mentioned this to another photographer ... and the band just now launched into "Running Down a Dream". heh

This is for Marie, whose favorite photo effect of ALL TIME is lens flare. Seriously, you should all head over to her site and demand it. She LOVES it!

Last Christmas I gave you a knuckle sammich

Disclaimer about this post: I love Christmas music. I love hymns and carols and singing with my family as we decorate the tree at my grandparents' house. But I do not love:

Christmas radio.  Bah humbug.

Halloween tummyaches weren’t even settled before the local station changed its format from “Vomit-inducing soft rock with Delilah” to “Vomit-inducing Christmas tunes with Delilah.” (Her name is another post in and of itself. I cannot believe that parents would actually name a child that. That would be like including the “One ring to rule them all” passage from LOTR in wedding vows- proof that you pulled something out of context to make it look like you’d read the source material without doing so in the slightest.)

All day, every day now you can hear the same 20 or so holiday "pop classic" tunes in a loop. I imagine there are a few soccer moms who have already jubilantly plucked their festive, bedazzled sweaters from the cozy recesses of their cedar-lined closets and are thrilled about this onslaught of cheer. (In my mind these women are also portly, peppy, and impossibly big-haired, but that could be because I have a specific woman in mind. If you went to high school with me you can probably guess the identity; your clue is “bedazzled.”)

Now I am not that thrilled about it, but I’m making an effort for the kiddo to not be such a cynical bitch all the time. Also, I’m a sucker for the sleighbell-fest that is the instrumental version of “Sleigh Ride”. I know how to make a trumpet sound just like the bobtail nag like in that song, and I am damn proud of that fact. So as I scan through the stations, I sometimes linger through a few holiday tunes. But it always ends badly…

As a high schooler I worked a few holidays at an uppity outlet store that had exactly one CD of approved music. It had 10 songs. 10. Three of these songs got so monotonous, so annoying, so incredibly infuriating to hear over and over that shoppers were damn lucky I never choked one of them with whatever overpriced angora sweater I happened to be folding. These songs are in heavy rotation on the local station, and they still fill me with venomous rage. They are:

Last Christmas, by Wham! - This song is more embarrassing to George Michael than getting busted for having sex in a public loo could ever be.


All I Want for Christmas is You, by Mariah Carey - I can't stand her in general, but this glistening puddle of tinsel-and-peppermint-flecked regurgitation is the specific example I give when asked, "Gnumoon, why can't you stand Mariah Carey?"

Wonderful Christmastime, by Paul McCartney – I hate this song so much. I want to beat Sir Paul with Heather Mills’ fake leg whenever I hear it.

If you are ever around me, and one of these tunes begins to tinkle through the P.A. of whatever store we happen to be in, it would probably behoove you to find a bunker (or at least a display of tri-colored popcorn tins) to hide behind. Consider yourself warned.

Certainly I can't be the only person who has aversions to these or other holiday pop "classics". Anyone have any to add?

Back in the saddle again - B-52's at the Biltmore

Despite only having 5 minutes or so to shoot (and one camera body...I should have borrowed one from someone to have 2 lenses going at once), I got some usable images from the B-52's show. Maren stayed at Uncle J's house with her dad- it was a little too hot and a little too loud for her to make the show. Next time!

More photos on Flickr.

Tiiiiiiiin roof, rusted.

We're off to Ashevegas so I can shoot my first concert since the birth of Pooks. I can't imagine a better reintroduction to the biz that the B-52s. Rules is rules, though, and instead of the common "3 songs or 15 minutes, whichever is longer" limit, I'm only getting to shoot 2 songs. Booo...I hope one of them is Revolution Earth, but I doubt it will be.

MerleFest Wrap-up

Well, I survived to tell the tale of photographing Merlefest ... 8 months pregnant. It was loads of fun, but I think it will take a few days to recover. My wonderful husband spent the weekend painting and doing some home repair/baby preparation stuff I can't be present for. Then he'd fixed me dinner when I got home from the 'boro last night- think I'll keep him.

I'm slowly but surely working on a Flickr album from the festival, but since I have a Real Job (c), it may take a while to get it finished. But you can check the progress here, if you are so inclined.
The plan is to take some time off from shooting festivals and concerts until somewhat post-Pookie-arrival, but with Tool, Rush, and Floydfest coming up, I don't know how I can stick to that. They're so much fun...

PUotD: Last night I think she was trying to get out, Alien-style. DJ and I watched her poke out reaaaaaaally far on one side of my stomach and then reaaaaaally far the other way. I tried to tell her she was doing it wrong, but you know kids these days. Think they know everything.

Liveblogging - Day 4

12:30 p.m. - Back again. And it is HOT today. Here's some Allison Krauss love for LBP from last night (I admit I didn't stay for her whole set. I was tired and it was really crowded). Also, she has more mics on her and her instruments than any artist I've ever seen, and it was damn near impossible to get a clear shot. Highly frustrating.

Liveblogging - Day 3

12:45 p.m. - I'm back again. Finally. The photographers/media must have pissed someone off last year, because we got demoted and have to park in Siberia somewhere. It's a harrowing golf cart ride down the mountain to get to the actual festival. It's like some lame-ass "let's-ride-this-because-the-line-for-the-Tennessee-Tornado-is-too-long" ride at Dollywood. I'm constantly ready to leap to safety if the brakes decide they just can't handle it.
I also just realized I left my meal card in my jeans from yesterday. That means scavenging from the artists' Get-Away tent where I'm based. Luckily they didn't specify you have to be a musical artist... here's a very lovely fingerpainting of a duck. May I have a bagel now, please?

1:15 p.m. - Just bumped into John Paul Jones. He seems very nice. Successfully resisted the urge to break into "Immigrant Song." Aeeeyaaaaaahhhhhhhhh-AH!

1:45 p.m. - Just got confirmation that Otis just finished her first half-marathon over in Nashville. Good on you, baby! Go eat a cheesecake!

2:42 p.m. - If you are a photographer or have somehow procured yourself a photo PASS, please note that the platforms are for WORKING, not for having the best possible vantage point to watch your favorite band. This belly, it is large, and it might just accidentally displace you...it's about 8 feet down. Think about it.

4:10 p.m. - The Duhks' set turned out to be pretty eventful. Evidently those of the avian persuasion prefer Nikon, because a bird crapped all over me and my new Canon.
Luckily I got it cleaned up and got back on the platform in time for special guest JPJ to come out and jam with the band for "Whole Lotta Love." Sweeeeet.
Then he was just back here in the tent and again I didn't ask him for an autograph...someday I might regret it, but I feel like such a dork doing that. There's something inherently odd about knowing more about someone else than they know about you, and I'd imagine that in reverse it gets downright creepy. You never want to be the "You're definitely the most underrated member of Zep!" guy, who I heard earlier. What an ass.

In other news, this may be my favorite picture I've ever taken. There is SO MUCH in that little girl's expression, not the least of being "Oh my god, dad, are you are going to still look like this when I'm trying to date?!":

6:57 p.m. - I've had a most enjoyable 2 hour break, wandering around the festival and eating some good food. Now it's time for tonight's home stretch... the Homecoming Jam, Sam Bush, Bela Fleck, and Allison Krauss and Union Station. That'll take us through until 11 pm.

Liveblogging - Day 2

Notes from the fest:

9:44 pm - OK... Elvis Costello, Sam Bush, Jim Lauderdale et al doing "Friend of the Devil" is pretty damn cool. Maybe not quite as cool as hearing Bob Wier and The Waybacks (hi Stevie) do it last year, but still pretty nifty.

8:22 - Energy. waning. fast. But so is everyone else's. There are some completely tired-ass-looking people here.
There is some big party tonight (seems like a cast party, but in the woods somewhere) that is apparently the thing to do, but there is absolutely no way I'm going to that. I'd fall asleep in the woods somewhere and wake up tomorrow all confused and covered with dew.

7:05 - The festival folks feed everyone who is working or performing, and it's usually pretty decent- chicken parm, lasagna, etc. Tonight's fare was cranberry meatloaf. It was fine, but meatloaf? That seems like a really random thing to prepare and serve to 1800+ folks.

4:56 - Pookie seems to love Bela Fleck and Sam Bush. I spent most of the shooting portion of their set being beaten like a rented mule from my ribs to my bladder. At what point should I invest in a tiny banjo? Note: I just heard that Bela was on Letterman last night and now he's here- that has to be one serious culture shock. L.A. /= Wilkesboro.

2:32 p.m. - I was just shooting from the photo platform, and I turned to take the random "audience enjoying the show" shot, only to see in my viewfinder a guy I haven't seen in 12 years - since high school in another STATE. Wild- small world.

10:35 a.m. – I’m happy to report that the people I’m renting a room from do not appear to be psychopathic serial killers. Or if they are, they seem uninterested in murdering pregnant photographers in their late 20s. Kidding…they are very nice people with a beautiful Victorian home and 2 hilarious little dogs.
I slept like a rock from 12:30 last night until 9 this morning.

General Notes:
- Loving the new camera/lenses. There is some white balancing funkiness I have yet to defeat in low/stage light. That’s today’s goal.

Liveblogging - Day 1

Notes from the fest:

3:45 pm - Right now there is a band singing a tribute to Dale Earnhardt, which is a really not what the bluegrass/Americana crowd here has paid to hear. It’s called “Feelin a Little Like Dale.” What does that feel like? Dead?

4:15 pm - So I’m here in the VIP tent (aren’t you all jealous?) and it’s really funny to just sit here and act like I’m mega-busy, but actually be listening to managers and PR people trying to impress each other. One guy just bragged that he’s in charge of a festival that is featuring both Kid Rock and…wait for it…Kevin Federline. Wooo-hooo! Sign me up to shoot that one!

7:34 pm - And here comes the rain. It’s been threatening all day, and it’s finally made good on that threat. We have a 70% chance of serious thunderstorms here tonight, between 7 and midnight, so we shall see. I have a trusty poncho for me and several gallon-sized zip-loc bags for the cameras. Bring it.

9:18 pm – I was just in the backstage bathroom, and some very high-maintenance-looking woman was coming out of the stall. She was all made up and had on a glittery wristband, which means she’s a performer. (The rest of us, the grunts, have on jeans,  sneakers, and in general look like hell)
I entered the stall only to discover that she had peed ALL OVER the seat. Come ON, people. That is just GROSS. Grah-doo. Wipe the seatie, sweetie.
If I end up shooting whatever band she’s in, I’ll post her photo. Wicked pissah.

10:43 pm - I just walked past a guy and realized it was Elvis Costello as I was looking at him. He kind of gave me a g-nod. Funny. Looks exactly like he does on TV.

General notes:
Photographers are a funny bunch. Whereas most of the staff/performers I met last year are like, “OMYGODYOUREPREGNANT!” and then rush over to hug me and talk about it, the photographers I met last year rush over and say “OMYGODYOUGOTANEWCAMERA!” And gush about it and compare it to theirs. Only one of the other stage photogs (and there are several of us) have even noticed that I’m five weeks away from shoving a human being out of my nether regions, but they’ve ALL commented on my 70-200 f/2.8 and how proud I should be of it and how beautiful it is.  (The lens IS pretty big…I wonder if it would hurt less to birth that than an actual person. ….nah.)