On April 21, 1981, Bruce Springsteen made his debut in Spain. He had recently released The River, but he was not yet an undisputed star. Neither the Boss. In fact, it did not fill the Palau d’Esports in Barcelona, where some 7,000 people gathered. Today, 43 years later, it is a legendary concert. Francesc Fàbregas (Sant Just Desvern, 1950) was the official photographer of that recital, which he now turns into a tangible memory through a book that brings together a good collection of photographs of it, accompanied by a series of texts and comments from people who experienced it from different perspectives. It is called Bruce Springsteen Barcelona 1981. Fertile ground for mythologizing, which Fàbregas gets rid of with astonishing ease. “At the time I wasn’t aware that it was a special concert, and I don’t think many of those who attended were either,” he says, recalling that day, when he still remembers how nervous he was. Some of these photos can be seen in an exhibition sponsored by the Porta Ferrada Festival, which can be seen in Sant Feliu de Guíxols until August 30 under the title Live.
Fàbregas, who was already working as a photographer for music magazines such as Vibrations either Rock Specialknew who Springsteen was, but he didn’t know his work in depth, nor did he understand what he knew, nor did he know what he was going to find on stage. “To take good photos it is not essential that you know the artist in depth or that you like him; moreover, depending on how the surprise of the discovery can give you better photos,” he says. What he found in front of him was what he now describes as “the artist who gives you the most dynamic and expressive, both physically and facially. You have to look for the photo, but he gives a lot of life,” he says after years of experience and several concerts in which he has photographed the Boss and which close the book.
Capturing that dynamism had its difficulties, typical of the analogue era. “We didn’t shoot with a motor, you had rolls of 36 photos that you had to adjust the sensitivity to hope you got it right, you had to be very concentrated and you didn’t know the result until it was developed, hours later,” he says. Fàbregas went to the concert with two cameras, one loaded with black and white and another in colour, and he shot the two rolls of black and white and part of the colour, with a yield of usable photos of over 80%. He had three songs to photograph – “the worst, like today, when the lighting at the concert hasn’t been adjusted” – and in that short time he moved around to be able to offer frontal shots, from both sides of the stage and among the audience “you can tell because not all the photos are close-ups, or shot from the left to see the guitar well, there are general shots and quite a bit of movement.”
That movement and the absence of a pit led to some of the photos being out of focus and not technically perfect: “In the book I have fearlessly recovered photos that I would not have published at the time, but now I see that in their imperfections the atmosphere, the conditions and the tension of that concert are very well captured.” All of this is made explicit in the first photo he took, which, as it was not rolled up properly when setting up the film, left the top of the photo blank, taking away part of Springsteen’s head and the headstock of his guitar. “It is a testimony of the moment, I have never cared about imperfections,” says the author of some photos that are already iconic and which in the book are accompanied by other unpublished ones.
But as a person far removed from mythomania, Fàbregas is left with a frontal photo of the Bosswith his head resting on Clarence Clemmons’ shoulder, dreamy expression and gaze at the sky while Max Weinberg watches from the drums under his Mr Spock fringe. A very human and not at all epic photo. Another photo, this one funny, shows Springsteen jumping and with the tip of his tongue sticking out. Francesc remembers it. “You find these photos because you are concentrated and attentive, even more so then, without a motor to shoot bursts of tenths of a second,” he says. Francesc also claims the colour photos in the book. “That colour is a true memory of the time, it is a portrait of what colour photography was like back then, it gives a lot of information because today texture and colour are very different.” When he says it, he seems to be bathed in memories. 43 years have passed, but almost all of them are there, even a reproach: “I did not turn around to photograph the public and I should have done so. I have a lot of respect for them.”
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