Confession: One of my fondest dreams in life involves about 15 minutes with Judy Collins and a Hasselblad under a winter sky just the right shade of February blue-gray to pick up her eyes.
Unfortunately, I think that’s the sort of gift God only hands you if your name is Annie Leibovitz — but failing that, I’ll happily settle for respectable concert photos. Considering the fact that I didn’t have a zoom lens and was sitting on the ground in front of the stage, shooting through the snow fence that separated the real photographers from us mere mortals, I think these turned out pretty well. Behold:
There is no way to make this woman look bad. This is the third time I’ve seen her in concert, and this is the third time that I have been so distracted that I have literally forgotten to breathe for a few seconds, because she is so striking. I don’t know how anyone who has ever picked up a camera could look at her and not think: I have to photograph her.
She sounded as great as she looked, too. This was easily the best of the three concerts I’ve seen, and she nearly made me cry a couple of times. Is it hopelessly cheesy to say that I regard her voice as indisputable proof of the existence of a creative and benevolent God? Even Ron was impressed, and he’s never impressed at folk concerts. Great, great show.