Trying to capture a whirlwind of a performer on stage can inherently be challenging, given the myriad of unpredictable atmospheric factors of a venue. Efforts to freeze movement are at times impossible without thee annoying flash, though stylistically on target if the photographer chooses to forgo it in favor of shades of intimation. What seems to be movement in the haze and darkness can be imperceptible in the murk or altogether absent.
But what if you have an artist whose movement on stage surfaces through the dark through sheer force, forcing angles, contours, and slivers of highlights to be seen despite it?
Sex Week's Pearl Amanda Dickson does just this. Like a dark and descending tornado in the night, her voice tore through the room long before her full form could be seen. Schubas kept her swallowed in shadow, leaving only the force of her vocals as proof of where this storm stood.
When my flash finally fired during the end of their set, it split the dark wide open, each burst catching her as fragments of articulation, both intriguing and alien, before the night closed in on her again toward her strobing crescendo.
For '26, I've looked forward to photographing artists I haven't yet captured. Supporting Acopia Saturday night, Sex Week was an unknown surprise for me, bringing back memories of what I experienced early on, when I actually arrived early enough to the venue to catch something new and worth looking through the dark for.