Last month when I was on set for the Starset shoot I received a text from my buddy Jimmy, the photo editor at Revolver magazine. He asked if I would be interested in shooting Korn in LA on Thursday. As in three days away. The band was planning a private release show for Friday the 13th, in anticipation of the release of their 13th album, The Nothing. My response? “Definitely.”

Back in April I was fortunate to have the opportunity to shoot images for their new album. Though I had been stoked to work alongside my teenage idols in a small way, I was still a bit bummed that I wouldn’t be meeting or photographing the group. So when this opportunity popped up, I was more than just a little excited. That said, having three days to coordinate and concept a shoot on the other side of the country was no short order.

I found that the five-hour flight to LA proved to be more than adequate for concepting five scenarios for the photo shoot. When I landed I hopped on a call with Jimmy to discuss shoot details and learned that the shoot had been pushed from Thursday to Friday. After describing my concepts he told me that he would be happy with anything I give him and that he just needed one great cover option. He mentioned that this being the 25th anniversary of the bands’ self-titled debut that it’d be cool to reference the original album cover in some manner.

Due to the shoot delay and overall last-minute nature of the shoot, every potential assistant that I reached out to was booked, so I would be working solo on the shoot. I was initially told that the studio I was shooting in would have LEDs, light stands, and a backdrop, so I only traveled with my camera, lens, and two strobes (yay for no checked bags). Since the shoot had been delayed a day I spent the majority of my now-empty day editing on a laptop in a cafe, waiting for the call sheet. After sitting there for five hours I was informed that the shoot would be taking place the next day in Van Nuys. However, the venue was actually an empty warehouse (not a studio), meaning that no only would there would be no backdrop, but they also wouldn’t have the LEDs or light stands that I was initially promised.

This was the moment that I had a mild panic attack. My editor told me that there is a gear rental shop an hour across town from the shoot where I could get the needed gear. I told him that I didn’t have a car or an assistant and even if I took a Lyft there, I couldn’t fit the gear in the car. He told me to not worry about it, that he’d handle it. He’d have all the gear, including a 12-foot seamless delivered the next day. I willed myself to feel relief.

The next day I arrived at noon to receive the delivery, with the shoot scheduled to start at 1:30. As I walked up to the nondescript warehouse at the end of a dead-end street, I saw two semi trucks unloading gear. I walked in, looking for Korn people, and instead saw The Eagles. Korn was next door, I was told. I walked around to the other side and found the right place. It was in disarray. The 14-ft loading doors were open, meaning the temperature in the room was in the 90s, thanks to the 100-degree weather outside. There were multiple scissor lifts driving around, hanging lights and set decorations for a private album release party that was to start in six hours. There was no spot allocated for my shoot, and no one I could find in charge to ask where I should set up and be out of the way. It was made abundantly clear to me that I was the least important part of the bands day. The magazine shoot was an afterthought. 

After a few minutes of scanning the room I decided to set up in the corner of the room that was the furthest from the open doors. As I began to unpack the gear with the delivery guy I realized that that they hadn’t brought a backdrop stand. All he had were the four c-stands to be used for lights. He asked if I wanted him to get them and bring them back but I declined, since it’d take over two hours to drive across town and back. The panic began to creep back in but I made myself do some breathing exercises that I had learned to stay calm. Meanwhile the crew had finished hanging the set and had begun to soundcheck, meaning it was LOUD.

I didn’t have time to waste so I got to work, opting to use two of the c-stands to hang the backdrop. Though I was able to hang the backdrop (win), it maxed out at ten feet (fail). I had soaked through my clothes with sweat by the time I got the backdrop hung. As I mentally walked myself through what sort of techniques I could do with only two light stands, I realized that my main hurdle would be the house lights, which were quite bright and directly over my backdrop. The crew was refusing to turn them off or even dim them for 15 minutes since they were fighting the clock to get the stage set up before doors opened. I turned up the LEDs as bright as they would go and placed them as close to where the band would be standing in order to make them at least two stops brighter than the room lights. I set my flashes on the ground and aimed them at the backdrop, propped up with sandbags since I didn’t have stands for them. It could still work. 

I began testing the light by photographing my hand, when Korn’s guitar tech noticed what I was doing and asked if I would like him to stand in for me. Relieved, I accepted his offer and he patiently stood (and sat) for me as I ran through four different lighting setups in fifteen minutes. He was stoked with the images (as was I), which was a good sign. Now I had all my settings figured out and a gameplay for the session. All I would need to do is swap out the LEDs for flashes on the c-stands, after the first set up.

I was all set up by 1:20. Korn’s publicist and a label rep looked through my light tests and said that while the shots were great, they were wary that I was making Johnathan too much of the focus in the shots and they wanted every member to be shown equally. I assured them that I’d shoot a range of setups in addition to my conceptual shots. They accepted this explanation and told me the band would be out shortly, though I had yet to see one member. So I waited.

The soundcheck continued with a loud “CH CH CH CH CH” coming through the mic, making me flinch with each syllable. To calm my nerves and stave off my sweating I wandered down the hall to see if anyone was in hair and makeup. I was relieved to find the drummer there, and walked back to the big room as they started sound checking the drums. The bassist and one of the guitarists walk in just then, and it appeared that the shoot would actually be taking place. 

My next worry was how much time would I have. Initially I was told that I would have and hour and a half with the band, but it was now 2:30 (an hour after the planned start time) and I still hadn’t seen the singer walk in. I knew that they still had band rehearsal before fans started arriving at six and was hoping I’d get at least an hour. Right then Ray (the drummer) approached me and said that he was ready to go. I shot a few frames, intentionally shaking my camera each time, which he observed curiously. After taking 10 shots or so he asked if he could see how the shots were looking. I showed him the back of my camera and explained that these dark, blurry images were meant to be more abstract and capture the emotion of their music in an image. He seemed slightly confused but willing to cooperate. 

A few minutes later Fieldy and Munky walked out. I showed Fieldy the shots of Ray as he stepped into the sweep, and he shrugged and indicated he was ready for whatever. I shot a few frames, reviewed them, then directed him to make bigger movements and really get into character. He obliged, hesitantly at first, and when I showed him those shots he really starting to get into it. I shot a few more frames, thanked him, and moved on to Munky. After he saw what I had done with Fieldy, he was all-in. He started head banging, throwing his head back, and making war-cry faces. His energy was contagious and calming at the same time. After I finished with him we started chatting about their latest album. I mentioned that I had worked with Tension Division on it and he got so excited (“I LOVE THOSE GUYS!”). That broke any remaining ice I felt, and we started comparing tattoos and swapping stories of fatherhood.

While I had a minute I flipped through my camera and snapped a pic of the back of my camera and sent it off to my editor to give him a preview. By then Head and Johnathan were ready for their individual shots, so I quickly shot them before moving on to the group shots. 

A quick background on Johnathan. His wife died last summer of a drug overdose, and so death and loss are major themes on the new record. Needless to say, Johnathan has been working through a lot of pain and, while he was a willing subject, he was very quiet— almost a statue. He said “just put me where you want me”. I could tell that he wanted the shoot to be over with as quickly as possible, a pressure that I immediately internalized. I quickly explained to the band what my game plan was, describing my concepts and asking what they were and weren’t ok with. They were cool with all of my ideas expect for one, which was better than I had anticipated after talking to the publicist and label rep.

I quickly moved through three different group scenarios, moving lights, swapping gels, and dialing in exposure as quickly as possible. The bands friends were mingling around the set which meant that I was competing for their attention. I had been fighting a virus that week and now my voice was nearly gone, so it was all I could do to wave to them and point down at my lens. I machine-gunned away frames, praying that there were at least a few frames where everyone was looking at the lens.

After I finished the third look they were visibly restless and asked how much longer it’d be. I told them I had one last shot. I explained the concept to them, that it’d only be Johnathan in the shot. I’d need him to sit on the ground and look small and vulnerable, like the little girl on the swing on the cover of the first album. I told them that the band would be off camera but their shadows would be falling on the ground around Johnathan, creating a menacing presence. It was exactly what their publicist told me to avoid. They loved the idea. They really got into it, creating claw shapes with their hands and looming about to really sell the shot. Once I got the lights and band members in an arrangement that worked, I took two shots and that was it. 

The shoot was over as quickly as it had begun. The band retreated with their friends to a back room and I took a minute to collect my breath before breaking down the set. I realized that I hadn’t even got a selfie with the band or behind the scenes shots of me working. No one would know exactly what I had just pulled off except me. It was a mix of emotions for sure. I looked at my phone and saw that my editor had written back “Oh, oh man. That looks INCREDIBLE. Wow!!!"

A label rep approached me and invited me to stay after for the album release show, which was to be for an intimate audience of 150 fans. Since I had helped work on the album concept/production I was grateful for the opportunity to see the artwork come to life. The black cables that I had shot for the album were the same ones that now decorated the stage, room, and merch table. The “nothing man” from the cover had taken human form in an aerial artist— a black figure that crept out from the corner of the stage, mid-song, and took to flight.