An unexpected gift

Mrs. KintlaLake and I were the first to arrive at our shop yesterday, as usual. When the first of our two co-workers strolled in a half-hour later I noticed that he was carrying some sort of flat parcel, wrapped in a white trash bag.

"I found this at my parents' place yesterday," he announced, pulling back the plastic. "I thought you should have it."

Without further fanfare, he presented me with his discovery: an original album cover from McGuffey Lane's self-titled 1980 recording, the band's first, complete with autographs.

According to my co-worker, the members of McGuffey Lane were regular visitors to his parents' house, since (the late) Bobby Gene McNelly's back yard bordered theirs. The guys signed this particular cover while hanging out in the basement one day shortly after the album's release.

This is a bona fide keeper, of course. Preserved in a proper frame, soon it'll adorn the wall of my office.

Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion XII

A week has passed since the 2012 edition of Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion. Again I had the privilege of photographing the event, and despite having a rash of camera problems toward the end of the show, the Reunion remains a musical and photographic highlight.

This may have been the best one yet. Enjoy the images.

Accidents happen

It took me longer than I'd expected to wade through the images from Saturday night's Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion. I'm not sure why.

I managed to pull and tweak 65 decent photographs, roughly one of every ten frames that I shot. I won't post them all on KintlaLake Blog, of course, but it's a pretty respectable ratio.

A few of the best were unplanned, anything but deliberate, arguably even accidental. Here's an example, previously posted on Sunday.

(McGuffey Lane)

I grabbed that image as I dashed from one wing to the other while headliner McGuffey Lane paused between songs. Something about the shadows caught my eye, so I turned off the flash, raised the camera to my chest (I didn't take the time to sight through the viewfinder), banged off two shots and moved on. For a what-the-hell photo, the result surprised me.

I love the challenges of concert photography -- moving subjects and rapidly changing lighting, to name just two. I'll close this post with a pair of images illustrating what can happen when the curse of unpredictability becomes a photographic blessing.

(Guest artist Delyn Christian performing "Long-Haired Country Boy")

(Molly Pauken of McGuffey Lane & the Jonalee White band)

Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion XI

Last night I photographed Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion 2011, the third time I've had the privilege of shooting this annual concert.

I clicked off 650 frames, give or take, 500 of which I kept. Now comes the task of earnestly previewing the lot, culling the bad and editing the best. Little of that will happen today, though.

The music echoes yet this morning and the afterglow of friendship still warms me, but I'm flat exhausted.

I'll hold my place with these two images. More later, I believe.


(Previous years' Reunions: Reunion recap, an epilogue; Reunion recap, part two; Reunion recap, part one; Satisfaction; Backstage past; An uncompensated plug)

Reunion recap, an epilogue

Ah, the much-touted "basic eight" -- I actually got a full night's sleep last night, closing my eyes just after 9pm. When the alarm buzzed at 5am this morning I awoke refreshed. I needed that.

Trumping the digital images of Saturday night are two mental images, memories that I cherish.

Behind the curtains in the left wing, a father and son occupied a pair of folding chairs set against the stage wall. It was clear that the boy suffers from some sort of disabling condition, his small body frail and his limbs twisted.

His spindly hands gripped a kid-sized Epiphone electric guitar, and throughout the concert -- I mean without stopping -- he "played" along with the show. He seemed to know every song, every lick and every break, jamming and dancing with unbounded joy, a broad grin on his young face.

I stopped shooting the on-stage performances several times to photograph him, which only made his grin bigger and his strumming more energetic. I still don't know who he is.

Now, as then, the thought of this boy brings a smile and a tear.

Toward the end of the Reunion, headliner McGuffey Lane and friends performed arguably the band's biggest hit, "Long Time Lovin' You." I heard the familiar opening strains while crouching between the drum and keyboard risers, framing a shot of lead singer John Schwab approaching his microphone.

Instead of pressing the shutter button, I turned the camera off, lowered it to my chest and quickly made my way off the stage. I hustled down the ramp, through the crowd and to the table where my wife and spawns were sitting.

I extended my hand to Mrs. KintlaLake. She smiled, stood and wrapped her arms around me. We slow-danced to "Long Time Lovin' You," just as we do every time we hear it.

The rest of the world could wait -- it's our song.

Placing a kiss on her cheek as the music faded and the audience cheered, I turned my camera on again and went back to work.

Yes, I love my photography and all of the heady behind-the-scenes stuff, but I love that woman a whole lot more.

Reunion recap, part two

The amplifiers growled, the lights came up and the soul of Zachariah's Red-Eye Saloon stepped out from the wings to greet its extended family. The assembled jumped to their feet and the celebration began.

Like Brigadoon emerging from the misty moors, it was as if no time had passed. Unlike the mythical Scottish hamlet, however, this Reunion was real, present and undeniably alive.

KintlaLake Blog can't, of course, convey the sounds of that night. And rather than resorting to a dry account of the performances in the style of a music critic, I'll offer what I can -- images that I had the pleasure of capturing.




Photographs preserve what words could not -- instants of focus, joy, enduring friendship and the spirit that unites players and audience.

In a spontaneous burst of laughter, we see the ecstasy of a daughter sharing the stage with her father. Harmonizing at a shared microphone, two grown men display a bond nurtured over three decades.



The music was spectacular, by the way. You'll just have to take my word for that.

As I write this, it's been 60 hours since the Reunion stage went silent. After an unseasonably warm weekend, winter has returned to central Ohio and light snow is falling outside my window. The Zachariah's family has gone back to everyday jobs and everyday lives.

Until next year, then.

Reunion recap, part one

One of the best parts of shooting a concert is getting there ahead of the crowd, before the show begins. When I walked through the stage door at The LC Saturday evening, several of the players were doing sound checks.

Dave carefully set up stands for his sax and flute. Molly strummed her mandolin, then put it down in favor of her electric bass. A few minutes later, Terry sat down at his pedal-steel guitar, adjusted the bench to his liking and twanged a whimsically mournful tune to an empty house.

The arena's lighting and audio crews clambered and fiddled and fussed, chasing persistent bugs.

In the green room, Steve changed out of his cap and hoodie, donning his trademark straw hat and a black buttoned shirt. He pulled a well-loved Fender bass from its case. While he plucked and tuned we spoke of growing old, wishing aloud for friends who aren't here to grow old with us.

As showtime drew closer, one by one the rest of the performers arrived. Dozens of personal reunions took place before the musical Reunion took the stage. I was treated like a member of the family.

There was laughter and warm hugs, some tears, much quiet conversation and at least one enthusiastic chest-bump.

(Ouch.)

Backstage moments like these are unknown to most concertgoers, but this is where magic lives, where music begins.

Being a part of it is a singular privilege. I consider myself truly fortunate.

Satisfaction

I'll have more to say later about last night's Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion. For now, I'll just tell you that it was, as expected, a musical and personal high point.

In less than five exhausting hours of photography I captured more than 600 frames. I'll be thrilled if 20 of them are keepers.

But that's not the point, really.

This annual gathering again reminded me that the heart of the Zachariah's family beats strong on both sides of the footlights. As good as the music is, the smiles and embraces are better.

Love flowed in torrents last night and into the wee hours. That's what I'll remember.

That's what remains. That's what sustains.

Morning scramble

As I sipped my first cup of coffee early this morning, I clicked the send-receive button to check e-mail. There were several messages related to my new job and a couple of slices of fresh spam, plus a note from McGuffey Lane's publicist.

The band wants me to photograph Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion again this year -- and that's tonight.

I charged every camera and flash battery I could find and cleaned my lenses, all while taking business phone calls and answering e-mails. I soothed my wife's disappointment (and conveyed my own) that we won't be enjoying the entire concert together at the table we've reserved. The spawns will be there, so that's good.

Since my own batteries needed charging, too, I knocked off around 1pm for a quick nap. In a few minutes I'll grab a shower and get ready to head downtown, intending to arrive early to block my shots.

Just like last year, it's gonna be a great night -- and a very long one. Photos to follow.

Backstage past

For all of my personal promotion of last night's Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion, I'm just now getting around to posting about it. I can explain.

Thursday afternoon, I got a surprise call from John Schwab of Reunion headliner McGuffey Lane. After some catching-up and general chit-chat, John asked me if I'd be interested in photographing the concert.

Oh, twist my arm, I thought. Somebody pinch me.

Honestly, being offered an all-access chance to document my favorite music and musicians made my head swim. And if I agreed to the job, Mrs. KintlaLake and I wouldn't be able to reprise our annual trip down memory lane, at least not together.

Still, I didn't blink -- I said yes.

Two hours before showtime, my wife and I, accompanied by our older spawn and a friend, entered through the stage door. The three of them cooled their heels in the near-empty hall while I spent some time checking sight lines and chasing down a step ladder for one high-angle shot that John wanted.

Once the show got underway, I started bouncing from wing to wing, capturing moments as they presented themselves. I made one long trip up to the balcony, and several times I wound my way down to the foot of the stage, eventually abandoning those low-angle shots as the general-admission floor became too crowded.

I worked from stage risers and speaker towers, stood on folding chairs and perched on the aforementioned ladder, occasionally (and briefly) invading the stage during a performance to get my shots.

I went non-stop for four hours, burning hundreds of frames. Everyone -- musicians, crew, audience -- was magnificently helpful and accommodating, making what could've been a stress-packed evening an absolute pleasure. It was at once exhausting and satisfying, maybe the most rewarding photography I've ever done.

So that was the job. And the concert?

I've been immersed in this music for the better part of 32 years and I've attended every Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion since 2002. My wife and I, along with every performer we spoke with, agreed that this was by far the best one yet -- instrumentally and vocally, talent and performances, energy and audience. Each Reunion has been uniquely great but this year's, without question, topped 'em all.

Between the concert and the after-party, along with a lingering natural high, sleep didn't find me 'til the wee hours of this morning. I finally hauled my weary ass out of bed around 10am, brewed a pot of coffee, pulled the memory card from my camera and started flipping through the images.

I was disappointed immediately.

My expectations were especially high for this job, and I'm a perfectionist anyway. I couldn't seem to find a single shot that met my standards for sharpness, exposure and composition. As I sat grumbling in front of my computer, my wife eased down next to me and put her hand on my shoulder, giving it a knowing squeeze. She didn't say a word.

Then on my second pass through the photos, I found a few that I liked. By the third or fourth review, I realized that there were some killer images in the bunch. A crop here and some color-correction there -- to make a long story shorter, by late this afternoon I couldn't stop smiling.

Just before I started writing this post, Mrs. KintlaLake remarked that she awoke today with the same mixed feelings she's had after the last three Reunions.

"I have this warm afterglow...energy and joy from the best concert ever," she said softly. "At the same time, I'm sad -- sad that we won't get to do it again for another year."

She gets it, y'know?

We looked into each other's eyes, held hands and smiled, sharing the same emotions and knowing that irrepressible soul and incomparable music have the power to carry us to next January.

An uncompensated plug

Zachariah's Red-Eye Saloon opened in the mid-1970s in an old warehouse on High Street across from the Ohio State campus, quickly becoming the Mother Church of central Ohio's music scene. The club attracted its share of big-name touring acts, but its heartbeat was local artists.

Nothing lasts forever, of course. Zach's closed in the early 1980s.

Now, every January, many of those musicians -- along with those of us who sat on the other side of the footlights -- gather in Columbus to rekindle the warm glow of the High Street days. The event, like all good reunions, is as much soul as it is song.

This year's Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion, the ninth edition, will happen the evening of January 31st. If you're within driving distance and have 12 bucks (plus beer money) to spare, I encourage you to make it a date -- you won't regret it.

Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion 2009

Saturday, January 31st, 7pm at The LC
(Lifestyle Communities Pavilion)

405 Neil Avenue, Columbus, Ohio

Appearing
McGuffey Lane
Tom Ingham
Delyn Christian (of The Fret Shop Band & QFM96)
Dave Rangeler (of Blackjack & Pistol Pete)
Denny Petroff (of Spittin' Image)
Julie Ivory & Terry Fickes (of Jesse Squire Band)
John David Call (of Pure Prairie League)

& more...

Tickets
General admission $12 in advance
(Ticketmaster or call 614-457-6157)
$15 day of show

(reserved seats sold out)

Musical odyssey

Loving you is sweet salvation
Baby, there's no measure to your worth
Now it's your love that makes me
So I'll follow where it takes me
Even to the edge of the earth

I first heard those words, wrapped in Little Big Town's lush harmonies, last night. Both the lyrics and the music surrounding them echo a path I've traveled over the last 35 years.

My personal music library spans the spectrum, from E. Power Biggs to AC/DC, but my tastes tend toward the acoustic. I know that makes me something of a dinosaur. So be it.

When I started playing guitar in my late teens, I wore out the grooves of many a John Denver album. Later, the music of the late Dan Fogelberg served as life's soundtrack. Likewise Jackson Browne and Bruce Hornsby.

Along the way I've discovered Gove Scrivenor, Alison Krauss, Nickel Creek, Richard Thompson, Shawn Mullins, Dwight Yoakam, Jerry Douglas, Leo Kottke and dozens of other brilliant musicians.

Music is best experienced in three dimensions and with all five senses -- and I don't mean taking in an arena concert from the nosebleed seats. I've had the good fortune to be in the immediate presence of McGuffey Lane, Jon Pousette-Dart, Livingston Taylor, Stony Creek Band and more.

That presence, especially in small venues, has created moments that glisten in my memory.

An easy conversation with Liv Taylor before a performance, discussing the risks of his playing banjo publicly before truly learning how. Chatting up members of Danger Brothers between Hineygate sets. Being summoned to the mic by Déjà Blue's Andie Pearson to belt-out my best basso profundo on "Mustang Sally."

Standing onstage beside Chan Goodnow of Stony Creek Band, feeling him pour his irrepressible talent into his mandolin. Taking a quiet moment to thank Dick Smith, McGuffey Lane's original drummer, for his gifts to all of us.

Recalling Dick Smith brings me to my particular musical touchstone -- not a song, not an artist, but a place called Zachariah's Red-Eye Saloon.

Zach's opened in the mid-1970s in an old warehouse on High Street across from the Ohio State campus, quickly becoming the "mother church" of central Ohio's music scene. The club attracted its share of big-name touring acts, but its heartbeat was local artists. McGuffey Lane was the unofficial "house band."

Then a sophomore at OSU, I'd often forgo my studies in favor of music at Zach's. I'd grab a table in front of the stage, nursing the same beer all night long while trying to steal guitar licks.

The time, the age, the music -- together, pure magic.

Less than two years later, I moved away from Columbus. Eventually, Zach's closed its doors and the stage went silent. It'd be almost 25 years before central Ohio would again become my home.

Not only did I find McGuffey Lane still making great music, I also learned that the band hosts an annual Zachariah's Red-Eye Reunion. At the close of the 2002 reunion, my first, a seasoned John Schwab and McGuffey Lane performed the debut of "Runnin' Wild and Free":

Those High Street days are still special to me
When Zachariah's was the place to be
For people like you and people like me
But I'm not one to live in the past
I learned long ago most things never last
And after all these years I'm runnin' wild and free...

Every bend in my musical path has been steered by the energy that flowed through me during those evenings at Zach's. And each time a piece of music touches me, it traces back to those sparkling days.

Even now, it's pure magic.