11.1.2026
To speak for all photographers, I think it is fair to say our priority is to find the moments and capture them, not necessarily to live them or ‘be in the moment’ like the world around us. While everyone is having what they would describe as the best day of their life and will talk about this day in 30 years to come, we photographers are busy scrambling around, searching for angles, new visions, and new moments to give to you forever. When it comes to concert photography, I feel especially true to this as I believe music heals the soul–and when you get the chance to step back and truly see the magnitude of an effect an artist can leave upon an audience, it's beyond mesmerizing.
However, I think it is important to note that as we shoot these events, we tend to get so caught up in our work that sometimes it feels like we were never really there. We get so surrounded by the noise that we are constantly trying to chase; it tends to drown us out altogether. When I shoot events, and I go to cull through my photos, I have trouble recalling how I truly felt while taking that moment despite the clear emotion captured on my subject's face. They knew exactly what they were feeling in that moment, but why don’t I? This is common for me; to be so lost in my own work that I am unable to recognize who I was. Yet, during Montell’s hour-and-a-half show hosted at House of Blues in the heart of San Diego, I noticed something happening to me that rarely happened to me before.
I paused.
I lowered my camera. Between the smoky atmosphere, the pitch of his voice, and the way he moved beneath a spotlight that seemed to rain onto him and nothing else, I found myself becoming entranced by the way Montell cried his lyrics; it was almost as if I could feel his words under my skin, within my bones, and tearing into my heart. It was like I was experiencing his sorrows and heartbreak as if they were my own. Throughout the night, between the rushing around and constant “excuse me”, “pardon me”, “sorry, I have to get through”, I would be pulled away from my spell of focus, and for a moment, I was just there. I feel it's safe to say every person in that audience felt the same, considering how the entire wave of people somehow seemed to freeze in captivation.
Montell has an effortless way of pulling people in with his music. He enthralled every single one of us with his honesty about needing to be needed and wanting to be wanted, and left us feeling raw, vulnerable, and real. I left this venue with a very indescribable feeling in my chest. What I do know is that I left feeling recognizable; I felt seen, and most of all, I felt present.
