Tyler with Fire
Electricity in the air
I stood almost eight hours to see the man himself. The biggest draw of the Osheaga weekend. I got to the site early. Choosing to spend the time prepping my gear while watching Sofia Camera’s set from the tv in the media tent. There was so much energy there, as over thirty crew members prepped for what was to be a very hectic day. The rules for Tyler were clear, no photos in the pit beyond three songs but the remainder of the set was no issue provided we were in the crowd.
Rules memorized I continued cleaning my camera and clearing SD cards. Across those three days, I didn’t get the chance to engage much with the other creators. All the gear and crew they had seemed like an ocean I couldn’t cross with just my Canon and iPad. Nonetheless, armed with my instruments, I sauntered out to the main stage just in time for Alex Warren. I was greeted by an armada of fans. What was a somewhat empty space during the first artist had now filled up far beyond my expectations. It was only 3:30 pm mind you. So I entered the fray, and waited to see what opportunity I would have to make my pilgrimage to the front of the crowd.
Lady luck presented herself to me right when Alex Warren’s set ended. An ocean of people left the main pit and I rushed my way through as far up as I could. I was by that point perhaps fifteen rows of people from the front of the barriers. I was grateful for the photo pass but it didn’t come with access to the photo pit. I had to thug it out with the crowd. That night there were 55,000 people in attendance. Some 20,000 just for Tyler.
The hours blurred by, I couldn’t go for food or anything else, lest I lose my hard fought position. At times, I would get a little aggressive with people, not allowing them to pass beyond me, or asking them to find another way. The day passed on and so did the musical acts one after another. Tommy Richman, Kaleo, Smino and Gracie Abrams.
As the main stage was divided in two sections, we could see clearly the shipping container with the word CHROMAKOPIA written across the side. The pyro technics were set in place and as much as I wanted to pay attention to Gracie, not that I’m a huge fan, the anticipation was immense.
Halfway through her set, looking like the indie princess she was, the clouds darkened above us. My gear is weather sealed and I wasn’t worried, but some instinct told me thunder was brewing. It’s said that it doesn’t rain much in Montreal in August but there I was, waiting for the inevitable. Over the last 5 hours, I hadn’t seen my friends, hadn’t touched any food and quenched my thirsts with the occasional nod to the security guard. Halfway through her set I was second row from the barriers when BAM! Lightning streaked across the sky.
Within moments, the rain began to pitter patter down upon all of us. In some ways it was a welcome change to the heat, both from the weather in the east coast and the thousands of people around me. Before long, Gracie and her crew had packed up their performance, the screens went dim and a warning sign was placed instead. The show had been put on hold due to the lightning storm.
Rain poured down on us dispelling the heat and dispelling our hope to see Tyler’s set start on time. The container was covered, the pyro was covered, the lights were turned off and the warning sign played on loop. I started reflecting on my relationship with an artist I greatly admired but who’s music I had never connected to. Hours of motivational interviews and music that I’d listened to with my friends but never fully latched on to. Until, DON’T TAP THE GLASS. The surprise record had released just two weeks prior to the festival and he hadn’t played the songs at all during Lollapalooza in Chicago. Anticipation was so high because there was the smallest chance that this would be the first ever show of the new record. A catalogue of music I wasn’t able to stop listening too.
By the time is was 9:15 pm, the presumed start time, the rain had stopped but the lightning hadn’t. The warning hadn’t left and hope seemed slim. Every person waited with baited breath checking their watches and phones intermittently as each passing minute meant one less minute to watch the man himself. A group of kids around me started singing his songs and the surrounding crowd would pick the chorus when they could. Then, after 20 minutes of waiting the warning turned off, the tech crew came to take the covers off the pyro and the lights emerged onto the green shipping container. In the wise words of Gandalf the White, hope was kindled.
Ten whole minutes later, the lights went down, and wouldn’t you know it, a red banner falls over the container the words DON’T TAP THE GLASS in big bold writing. I was at the debut show of the Tyler show I had fallen in love with. The show had begun.
It’s hard to encapsulate the magnitude of this one man’s energy, showmanship and music prowess. He was the conductor entirely in charge of his orchestra. No backup dancers, he sang every lyric that he could, he danced ever moment he could, he was putting on the biggest spectacle of the night and he knew it. The first three songs were relentless, I never knew when the pyro would go off or the fireworks, I was battling my settings in a flurry. Finally, about six songs in I’d figured out how to balance the both the lighting and the pyro.
Suddenly, as I peered through my viewfinder, I see a large hand reaching towards me like a scene straight out of a horror movie. I pulled my camera away just as a large security guard’s fingers grabbed the edge of my lens. 6’ 6” tall he yelled at me saying “NO PHOTOS AFTER 3 SONGS”. I yelled back “I’M NOT IN THE PIT, I’M IN THE CROWD!” He reached for my camera again and I knew I had no choice.
For what it’s worth, he wasn’t wrong, I was essentially at the front of the crowd and basically in the pit. However, I was also within the crowd and I was pushing the edge of the rules. Truthfully, the fear that surged in me of having my camera confiscated in that manner was more terrifying than having to secede my positions. Although, it was deeply demotivating.
The security guard told me that if he saw me in the crowd he would find me, this is the part that I thought was excessive, and true to his word this asshole started hunting me as I dashed and darted through the crowd. Giving places up just enough that I could still take photos to the best of my ability. Finally, I found sanctuary in a group of girls, they surrounded me and I would duck whenever the guard came near. Using their height as my camouflage, I attempted to find my focus once more and grab what remaining photos I could of the set.
That set, that night, is one of my favourite experiences I’ve ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Not only that I got to take photos of his set too. One day, I hope to see him again, maybe even on tour?
