Eddie Kramer Photography Essay July 2001 – New York City I never considered myself a professional photographer. I was in my 4th year as a recording engineer when I joined the staff of London’s Olympic Sound Studios in 1966. During the first few months of working there, I asked one of the maintenance engineers about the cameras he was using for recreation. Since I came from an artistic family (my mother painted and sculpted, my father played the violin), my curiosity was piqued by the creative possibilities of photography. I purchased an Asahi Pentax 35mm camera with a 50mm lens from the engineer, and started to experiment on my own using TriX 400 ASA B&W film. Looking around my environment for subjects to photograph, I instinctively leaned towards people rather than objects. I found a rich harvest of subjects in the many and varied musicians coming in and out of Olympic Studios. The camera became my constant companion -- I took it everywhere I went. But it was during the recording sessions I really became enamoured with the images I could capture. Initially, the musicians were a bit bemused. As the camera became a part of me, they began to relax, and since I posed no threat, I was able to capture them with their “hair down” (no pun intended!). I simply looked for opportunities during playbacks or rehearsals to sneak off a couple of interesting shots. I guess the bands’ view of it was that “Oh well, it’s just Kramer with his camera again…” and indulged my whims. The only time I felt intimidated was when The Beatles came to Olympic on two separate occasions to record “All You Need Is Love” and “Baby You’re A Rich Man” with George Martin. I was scared shitless to drag out the ol’ camera – after all, this was The Beatles! Even though I was working with The Stones, Jimi Hendrix and Traffic, I just chickened out – it just would not have been cool… Hendrix was a great subject to photograph. We had a very close working relationship. I don’t think he minded me constantly shooting pictures. He seemed to be mostly in his own world and most times had a very disarmingly shy smile on his face. I tried to capture every part of the creative process, from him writing lyrics to playing incendiary guitar, to relaxing and joking around with Buddy Miles. Photographing the Stones was a different matter. They were so used to posing in front of a camera that the mere presence of me with one probably didn’t even register. Again, my goal was to capture them in their unguarded moments. Traffic was a new band put together by Chris Blackwell (who owned Island Records). He was responsible for bringing Jimmy Miller over from the USA to produce them. Jimmy was a major influence on me as his style of production was what I tried to emulate. His ability to get the musicians to relax and inspire them to a higher level was an object lesson in being a good producer. My memories of the sessions in England were of laughter, good times, intense work, and a great sense of camaraderie between the bands. Since I knew Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones as session musicians, it was a natural transition to record their newly formed band in 1969 for the historic album Led Zeppelin II. As it was recorded in various parts of the U.K., Canada, and the U.S., Jimmy asked me if I wanted to record some more tracks in New York, and then mix the album. We ended up mixing the entire album in one weekend at A&R Studios, NYC. We worked together on and off for the next few years and in 1972 I was asked to come to England to record a bunch of tracks which later appeared on “Houses of the Holy” and “Physical Graffiti”. We set up shop at Mick Jagger’s country estate, Stargroves, with the Stones’ mobile recording truck. The lads were really happy there, recording with the amazing acoustics of the old mansion and “frolicking around” in the park-like setting. During that turbulent 5-year period of 1967-1972 I was very fortunate to have been in the presence of some of the greatest rock artists of all time – even luckier to have had a camera along with me. I never thought once when I was taking these casual pictures, that they would be anything more than personal remembrances. Only today, at the insistence of friends and colleagues have I begun to appreciate the historic value of these rare images.