John Sheeran
Here are some shots that show just how much Ed enjoys himself onstage. It’s obvious he’s having fun. The smiles are broad and his eyes are lit up. We used to say to him when he was a boy that, if he could work in a job he loved, he’d have a great life. These photos prove it.
— LONDON, 12 OCTOBER 2012 —
When you first start working with an artist you don’t know what their story is going to be. When I began working with Ed I didn’t know much about him, and it was only over time that I gradually learned and discovered more about him, mainly through my viewfinder. I most certainly didn’t know where his story was going to go. The story started in 2008 when I first met this young and vibrant artist, who was quite professional from the get-go and had a strong will to succeed. He had a dream and he was chasing it with all that he had. And then something happened midway through the story that changed the narrative significantly. Four years later he was still a one-man band, but he no longer travelled clubs and set up his own gear with the help of his dad: he now had a crew, increasingly larger stages and increasingly larger crowds.
As a photographer, it is really important to allow yourself to be guided by the story wherever it takes you and not stick to preconceived ideas about where you think the story might or should go. That is one of the main reasons why when I shoot Ed I still see the Ed whom I first met a decade ago. I don’t see a world-famous man through my lens; I see a guy who grew up in front of my lens. His surroundings have changed, and he is much more successful now, but the person I am capturing is still Ed – the same fiercely driven guy who is highly professional, has a love of his craft and a passion to succeed.
By October 2012 Ed’s album + had really taken off, and venues like Shepherd’s Bush Empire were too small. I was assigned to shoot Ed for press at London’s Hammersmith Apollo, another legendary venue. It has a 5,000 capacity and pretty much anybody who’s anybody in rock and pop history has played there since it opened in 1932. Just like Shepherd’s Bush Empire it’s a Grade II listed building.
When I arrived at the box office that evening, the girl at the box office told me that there were no photographers allowed for Ed’s show, so no photo passes. I stepped outside and contacted my assignment manager to get the details of the person who had approved my photo pass to her. What followed was a 20-minute string of phone calls to the promoter and PR people. The clock was ticking. Another photographer arrived at the box office and was given the same spiel – no photo passes for Ed’s show. It might sound like a hassle, which it is, but it does happen more often than you would think. Sometimes for no reason at all you are lost in the chain of communications and your name just magically disappears from whatever press or guest list you were on, usually with very little time to spare.
I was about to throw in the towel and return back home with no pictures to show for my trouble, when I thought I would try one last call. I’m not the kind of person who likes to pull favours but I did have Ed’s tour manager Mark Friend’s number on my mobile. Mark had been a big help a couple of weeks earlier at the Roundhouse, so I decided to give him a ring. I explained to Mark that I had arranged a photo pass earlier that week, but that there were none at the box office. Mark confirmed to me that no photo passes had been issued on the whole tour and that whoever had agreed to grant me a pass had made a mistake. There was a moment of silence and then a deep sigh left my mouth. Mark probably picked up on my despair, which prompted him to come and see me at the box office.
By now the support act had finished and it was only about 20 minutes till showtime. In my experience, this close to the gig there is very little hope of getting last-minute approval to shoot a show. Just ten minutes before showtime Mark popped up and handed me two photo passes. One for me and one for the other photographer. “Go on and get in,” Mark mumbled, and he rushed off again into the crowd. I didn’t even get the chance to say thank you. As is pretty much customary in live music, the tour manager escorts the artist to the stage every night. So, Mark had to really hurry to escort Ed to the stage a couple of minutes before the show, which just shows how he went out of his way to help me out. I salute you, Mark.
Just as we were ploughing through the crowd and arriving near the stage, Ed walked on. Perfect timing. It was that day at Hammersmith that I realized how much things had really changed for Ed – bigger venues, better lighting, larger crew, larger crowd – but when I peeked through my viewfinder it was still just Ed that I saw, with his guitar in hand and his loop pedal board at his feet. When I walked back to the Tube at Hammersmith to head home that night, I knew that things would never be as they were before – Ed was well on his way to becoming a megastar.
