When the music is right, nothing else matters

Fellow photographer and graphic designer, Kate Samaratunga, and I, decided to spend a glorious spring Toronto day searching for some cool places to shoot.  After all, our day together was during Luminato, the Toronto Festival of the Arts.  Lots of things to do and see; the city was in art overdrive.

But the first order of the day was a cappuccino to start us off in the right head-space.

So, for a caffeine and artistic boost, we headed for the café with the most ambiance and artistic motivation, Balzac’s, in the Distillery District.

Once we got our dose of both art and caffeine, we embarked on our quest.  No sooner did we hit the bright sun than we came across an open door leading into (you gotta picture this), a cavernous stone walled textured grotto, complete with exposed steel pipes, abandoned and rusted ancient machinery… (keep picturing, stay with me now), an abandoned stage eerily lit with indigo blue lights mixed with shards of incoming sunlight from huge windows …and nobody in sight. 

“Hey Kate, here’s our studio!”

As we were both absorbing the wonderful light and textures, in walks a guy wearing a hat.  Slowly, almost invisibly, he ambles up on to the stage, pulls a harmonica out of his pocket and starts jamming, totally oblivious to the two of us. (was this some kind of movie, or what?)

If I may be so bold, what came out of his head and harmonica was friggen’ awesome!

He started off sounding like a steam locomotive, straining, hissing and chugging, pulling a night-train away from the station, slowly building tempo and speed.

Then he became the lonesome cry of the train’s headlight as it searched and sliced through the night fog. Then it became a desolate wail of a widow. 

And as he picked up more cadence and speed, in my mind I could see the gloomy windows of the passenger cars blurring past me as I stood alone in the cold night on the wooden slatted platform of a lonely railroad station, somewhere lost in the prairies.

My mind snapped back to the stage.  The harmonica player hit some foot pedals and a slew of pre-recorded “reverbing” rhythm harmonicas kicked in, along with African drums sounding like the paws of a cheetah hitting the ground at full speed.

At that point, the train hit warp speed and launched itself into outer space. As musicians would say, “this guy is really cookin’…oh my god!

All Kate and I could do was stand there, dumbstruck.

While I stood there dead in my tracks (no pun intended), Kate had the presence of mind to grab her camera.  Thank goodness!

When the music-train stopped for air, Kate and I didn’t know if we should genuflect, bow at the harmonica player’s alter or faint.  We finally decided to act like grown-ups and sidled up to the harmonica player to thank him. 

Know what?  HE thanked US for giving him OUR energy.  Hard to believe how humble he was…this deity of the harp.

He introduced himself as Mike Stevens from Sarnia, Ontario.  He said that he was warming up for a harmonica workshop, part of Luminato.  I Googled mikestevensmusic.com that night. Turns out Mike is a world-famous harmonica virtuoso.  His website is a must.

Kate asked Mike if I could take a picture of her with him.  He was flattered and accepted. 

Mike then got back on his train. Kate and I, reveling in our new level of Mike-inspired creativity, started shooting. We shot more pictures of Mike, and then, for no reason other than the musically induced photo-high, we started photographing each other.

As you can see from one of the photos of Kate, she started doing this amazing thing with her hands.  When I asked her what and why she was doing this “hand-dance” thing, she said Mike’s music inspired her and reminded her of an ethnic dance she once saw at a friend’s home. 

It’s funny how music motivates. Often we don’t realize its impact. Imagine a movie without music in the background (music for movies in a huge industry). It’s a fact that music and visualization powers are located in the same part of the human brain. Maybe that’s why most studio and fashion photographers always have music playing during a shoot.

I’ve always been driven to visualization while listening to music. Hard rock brings me to the gritty streets of the city, classical takes me to peaceful infinite fields of green, ballads and love songs to…I think you can guess on that.

Hey, ever go shooting armed with an iPod and headphones? Of course you have to be mindful (very mindful) of vehicular traffic, trains, airport runways, space shuttle landings, etc. However, once in the web of safety, you may very well experience a sudden moment of revelation when looking at a flower or a friend or a rusty piece of machinery…and you might find that creative keyhole you thought never existed.

Kate and I found our particular creative keyhole in that indigo-lit cellar with the harmonica player.

So…

was it was the cappuccino?

was it that open door leading to the indigo room?

was it just dumb curiosity that led us to the keyhole? 

(It’s never where you think it should be.)

But,

the environment was inspirational,

the ideas flowed,

the images were inspiring,

Had we had looked for this experience, we never would have found it.

I think it was more like artistic freefall.

I think we landed in a good spot.

I think it just happened.

…I also think it was the music.

Epilogue:

I scribbled the words above.

Kate did the page design and image post-production in her studio.