Dear reader,
Time is such an interesting thing. In 1981, two guys meet in the United States and decide to start a band. That’s many years before I was born, in 1987. Metallica then goes on to become one of the greatest bands in history. And on a random sunny afternoon in 2002 in Brazil, a bored teenage girl goes through her cousin’s CD collection and listens to the band for the first time.
Do you remember the first time you listened to your favorite artist? The moment I listened to Metallica for the first time got into my memories with such detail that it will probably be one of the scenes I’ll see before I die. I remember my cousin’s bedroom, the CD player, me inserting S&M Disc 1 on it and skipping directly to track number 3, Master of Puppets. I remember how everything around me became a blur during the first minute of the song and how something new sparkled inside.
Since that day, I finished school, college, and post-graduation. I changed jobs. I moved to another country. Relationships came and went; some stayed. But Metallica has always been there. I sometimes imagine if I could meet my teenage version and tell her about all the people she would meet, the places she would travel, and the things that would happen in her life just because of the band.
22 years after that afternoon, I travel to Copenhagen to attend Metallica concerts number 19 and 20. Seeing them in Copenhagen is special, and has been on my wishlist for a while. It is Lars Ulrich’s hometown, and it is close to my new home, and thus comes this big value that we give to ordinary things when we love something or someone.
I took a film camera with me, with a zoom lens but compact enough to not cause problems with security at the venue. The photos did not turn out as I expected, because the lens and the autofocus lock were too slow.
Another reason these concerts were special is because the band has been playing Inamorata, one of my favorite songs from their most recent album, 72 Seasons. I could not miss it. In Germany, when the song had its debut, James Hetfield said:
“This next song we have never, ever played live before. And, you know, in our band, we don’t recognize the word ‘mistake’ — cause there are no mistakes. There’s just unique moments that happen. That’s what we need to tell ourselves.”
It took some time and revisiting for me to like the photos in this letter. But I now understand that for their lack of sharpness, they still captured the lights, movement and energy of the concerts. The unique moments that happened.
That’s what I need to tell myself.
Do I still wish I had a better camera with me? Yes. Do I think that concert organizers need to review their equipment policies as phones can produce much higher resolution images than most of my cameras? Yes. Am I researching different compact analog cameras to find a better alternative to large concerts? Hell yes.
All photos taken with Olympus Superzoom 120 and Ilford Delta 3200 and Cinestill 800T. Developed and scanned by me.
The Ordinary: Extra
For sharp and beautiful photos of Metallica concerts, taken from the joy and struggle of the first row, check out Camilla Guerrero’s instagram.
PS: My cousin never got his CD back.
Nice story! and love the photos! Something similar happened to me in the snake pit in Mexico City, 2012. I miss the PPM days!