Nine months ago, I was halfway through my photography course at Red River College Polytech, working on a final portfolio assignment that felt both exciting and overwhelming. The task was straightforward on paper — create a photo book of 40 high-quality images, including three 8 by 10 framed prints and three larger framed pieces. But at the time, I had no clear direction. Without any models to work with, I began experimenting with self-portraits — something I never imagined I’d be able to do.
To my surprise, this challenge became a defining moment in my career, pushing me to grow as a photographer.
Self-portraits allowed me to discover something important, that photography can be as much about self-expression as it is technical skill. I also knew self-portraits alone would not make my work stand out. My classmates were all talented, each developing their own style. I needed something more for my final. Something different. I was paranoid about not measuring up, and I started questioning my creative path.
A month later, after questioning myself, I picked up my camera with a new mindset.
I realized that overthinking was paralyzing my progress. Instead of waiting for the perfect idea, I just needed to shoot anything and everything. This shift in mentality opened me up to new possibilities.
That’s when I stumbled across an ad for Stylus Magazine looking for volunteers to cover local events. I signed up and photographed my first-ever concert on Jan. 26, 2024.
Concert photography was an entirely different challenge. I had no idea what I was stepping into, but I went in acting like I did, because sometimes, that’s all you can do. I had to figure it out along the way. The fast-paced environment forced me to think on my feet, experiment and take risks. I even tried using a plastic beer cup to create some light effects. Anyone who saw me that night might have thought I was a bit eccentric. I was myself. A quote from Anne Leibovitz reminded me, “only smear can lead to clarity,” and so I smeared.
But it was not all smooth sailing. Being shy, I struggled to communicate with promoters and other photographers, which I soon realized was a significant hurdle in an industry that thrives on networking. In any creative industry, you have to push past your comfort zone, and concert photography is no exception. I still get nervous when shooting alongside seasoned photographers who have been in the business for years, but I remind myself that everyone started somewhere.
Despite my nerves, I quickly found that the concert pit felt like home. Something about the chaos, the energy and the lights resonated with me. The adrenaline, the music, the challenge of capturing those fleeting moments — it’s what drives me, even if the ear-splitting speakers sometimes leave me ringing in my ears for hours after the show.
Concert photography has its own set of rules. At high-profile gigs, photographers are typically only allowed to shoot for the first 20 minutes or during the first three songs. But when I started, I did not know that — I’d shoot the entire show unless told otherwise, leaving with 2,500 to 3,000 images per set. Looking back, it was overkill. Now, I shoot more selectively, understanding that culling and editing can take as long as the shoot itself. While software can help with the process, I prefer to go through the images myself. There’s an instinct in selecting the best shots that software simply can not replicate.
After that first show in January, I am being more than myself in every set I attend. I do respect the audiences, fellow photographers and artists, and if needed, I run around and change my body posture into some strange yoga pose just to get the perfect shot. As Gordon Parks famously said, “I feel it is the heart, not the eye, that should determine the content of the photograph. What the eye sees is its own. What the heart can perceive is a very different matter.”
If I believe I can capture epic images, I am ready to chase after them. As I reflect on my journey over the past nine months, I realize how far I’ve come. From feeling lost during my portfolio assignment to discovering my passion for concert photography, every experience has shaped me.
That stressful assignment became a turning point. It pushed me to think differently, to stop overthinking and to just create. Once I broke past that initial stress, it opened up doors I had not considered.
I’ve embraced the chaos of the concert pit, learning to adapt and thrive in an environment that fuels my creativity. Each show offers a fresh opportunity to push my boundaries, whether it’s trying new techniques or capturing the emotion of a live performance.
With three months left in my personal challenge, I’m eager to see where this path leads. I’m excited not just for the upcoming concerts but for the stories that artists and audiences have. Each performance brings its own energy, and I can not wait to capture those fleeting moments that resonate with both the audience and myself.
So, if you’re a fan of live music and want to witness the magic firsthand, I invite you to join me. Let’s celebrate the power of music together! Catch CCMA award winner Tim and the Glory Boys on Oct. 18 at Park Theatre, and who knows? You might just see me in the pit, chasing that perfect shot once again. Here’s to the next chapter of this incredible journey — full of new experiences, risks and unforgettable moments!
Consider this an invitation for all of you to explore your creativity. Bring your camera, take some photos at a concert, or find your own way to step out of your comfort zone. Embracing creativity can lead to amazing experiences, whether it’s through photography or another form of expression.
