k.d. lang says yes for Sam The Record Man

500-Weeks #17

 

Sam The Record Man and k.d. lang in Toronto, 1993

There are days on photography assignments where multiple agendas collide, and it can be really hard to know how to handle them. The technical stuff is a breeze compared to the conflicting interests.

Case in point: I’m at the Toronto Film Festival in 1993. Films are screened at film festivals to gather interest and buzz before being released publicly. This is especially important for films produced independently, that is, without the financial backing of a major studio. Producers want to show their independent films at film festivals to attract a distributor they can sell the exhibition rights too.

One of the ways to attract positive interest at a festival is to throw a party on the night the film is screened. Many of the creative personnel responsible for the film will be in attendance at the party, which helps the film get coverage in the media. This is also where the best party photos can be taken.

Invites are controlled by the PR firm handling the film, and for media, this is a tricky game. Films come and go, but the publicists can be around for a very long time. As a media photographer, you have to remain in their good books to get inside the party. Slide to the bad books, and your access can be cancelled. Suddenly, you can find yourself outside the party, lining the red carpet screaming names and hoping the cast members look your way.  

During this time period, I was creating a weekly column called “EyeSpy” as both writer and photographer. I needed to stay in the good books for continued, inside, access.

“Even Cowgirls Get The Blues” was at the festival and I was invited to the party.  Before entering I was told – in no uncertain terms – that singer k.d. lang, who created the soundtrack, would be in attendance and that she did not want to have her photo taken, so don’t ask and don’t try.

Okay, I say, no worries. I’ll leave her alone. Which sucked, because she was riding high on the success of her “Ingénue” album from the year before. Plus, I was a fan, she’s Canadian and a photo of her would be great for my column, but hey, I have to play by the rules.  

The party goes on, I see she is there and I occupy myself with other people involved with the film. Until I get approached by Sam Sniderman’s son. 

Some details: Sam Sniderman was better known as Sam The Record Man. He owned and operated Canada’s largest chain of music stores and was an icon in the Canadian music scene. The chain’s main store on Yonge Street in Toronto, had a mandate to keep at least one of every record in the world in stock. It was truly one of the world’s greatest record stores. I’ve shopped for music throughout New York and LA and Sam The Record Man in Toronto was better.

What's better? Colour or B&W?

Sam Sniderman was also a huge supporter of Canadian musicians, including those who were just starting out. Albums by Canadian artists would get displayed prominently. All over the walls of the main store were framed photos of major musicians posing with Sam. The store hosted in-store signings as well as live shows. In the song “Brian Wilson” by the Barenaked Ladies, when they make reference to “the late night record shop” they are referring to Sam’s. 

So Mr. Sniderman’s son – Jason – approached me and said, “C’mon. I want you to take a photo of k.d with my dad” and I froze. I stammered and told him that the organizers told me not to bother her. He responded with “Don’t worry. No one says ‘no’ to my dad.”

The legendary Sam The Record Man store on Yonge Street in Toronto
The streaks were caused by the film moving through the camera
while the was shutter was frozen open on a bitter winter evening.

He walked towards the tables where k.d. was seated among friends. I‘m hanging well back - beyond social distance recommendations - clutching my camera in two hands. If this goes badly, I do not want to be the one who gets blamed. I don’t even want to risk being associated with this photo request.

His head and shoulders bend down and he is talking about something. Then, his head and shoulders pop up and he turns and waves his father in. Sam and k.d are quickly introduced and are soon pointed towards me.

They turn and it is quickly apparent that both Sam and k.d. know theIr party photo poses. It’s hard to navigate between tables and chairs in a nightclub, but I manage to shimmy into a spot where I can see both of them, raise my camera and get two quick shots in, one horizontal, the other vertical. I say thank you and quickly back off.

If the publicist who told me not to do what I had just done - and came in just to see the end of it, with me taking a photo of the client who told she did want her photo taken - I would not have been able to talk my way out of that doghouse.

When the film is developed I can see that one of the frames is slightly out of focus, and but the other one is great. It was quite a challenge to manually focus a camera in a dark nightclub environment. Many times I relied on spotlights shining into the subjects hair, and tried to get that in focus.

The photo was printed in my EyeSpy column and eventually I made an 8”x10” glossy print for Sam to frame. Although I looked, I never managed to find it hanging in the store anywhere. I would have taken a photo of that.

Sam Sniderman passed away on September 23, 2012. 

Technical stuff: Nikon FM2n camera with 28mm f/2.8 E Series lens using Fuji Super-G 400 ISO colour negative film. Lighting is with a Vivitar 285HV on-camera flash.