January

LaChapelle's original idea was to create photographs that evoked a sense of peace. He thought to do this by taking John to a big beautiful field in the countryside and photographing him at a piano surrounded by doves. The images, LaChapelle hoped, would evoke not just the beauty of what John has brought to us with his music, but also what he has brought to us with his being. To LaChapelle, John is a major figure because of who he is as an artist, but also because of the many ways in which he has put himself on the line, serving as an inspiring example to countless people.

I suppose LaChapelle's idea of photographing John in a peaceful field came from the notion that John has been a warrior for so long, and has achieved so much on so many fronts, that now he has reached some kind of peace. LaChapelle didn't come to this alone; there is truth to this assessment on many levels of John's life. But that doesn't mean John believes there isn't plenty still to fight for.

As the shoot approached, John called up and asked, "Should we rethink what we were planning?" I phoned LaChapelle. Anyone who knows him, or who has worked with him, can tell you that he's not wishy-washy about what he thinks, and that, like John, he stands behind what he believes is right. But instead of being intransigent, LaChapelle was instantly and instinctively open to the idea of changing his original notion. He called me back minutes later and said, "Let's do it in the city, I have some other ideas." Forty-eight hours later, we arrived at LaChapelle's studio, where his team had been working through the night to create worlds in which John could be photographed that would reflect not just where he is right now, but where we are, all of us.

At one point during the photo session, LaChapelle began photographing John on a set that was a classic LaChapelle spoof on two one-dimensional notions: the one being that life is a bowl of cherries, the other that we live in a world that operates according to the law of the jungle. Well, John had no problem getting himself in the mood presented by that environment, and then something happened that I have never seen before at a photo shoot. John was up on the piano stool, with his foot on the keyboard, and LaChapelle must have sensed what was coming, because he yelled, "Yes!" Off came John's shoes, off came his socks. As his toes touched the keys, out came a roar. Within seconds, LaChapelle was roaring too, and almost simultaneously so was the whole crowd that had been helping with the pictures or watching the shoot. It was the most incredible feeling: everybody just letting it out, like a primal scream. There was no feeling that all is right with the world - because it isn't.

At this session, there was an amazing sense of bonding within the group, which came from the fact that everyone - the star, the assistants, the friends, the photographer, the stylist, the whole eclectic group - felt the same emotion: passion. That mood continued for the rest of the photo session, and as you can see, our cover picture reflects it. It is an antistasis photograph.

Thank goodness both John and LaChapelle knew enough to go with their instinct to change the original plans that had been so carefully laid out when the photographs were being conceptualized. What happened wasn't the kind of thing one can completely plan, and that's what made it so true, and such a good metaphor for life today. The collective passion that came out is the kind of thing one can learn from. For some time now, there's been a ubiquitous nonidealistic mood of acceptance. As we go into 1998, let's bid farewell to this atmosphere of apathy, and release what we know is inside us and just waiting to come out - let's roar for what we know is right.

COPYRIGHT 1998 Brant Publications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2008 Gale, Cengage Learning