Photo Finish (Street Musicians Edition)

 

I'm sure a good many of you can identify the above photo. Obviously, it's the famous cover of the Beatles 1969 album Abbey Road, the last they ever recorded as a quartet (though not the last released; Let It Be, recorded earlier, made its debut in 1970, and, of course, there's been dozens of anthology albums, including a boxed set titled Anthology.) But look at the cover closely. Nowhere does it say the name of the album or the name of the band that made the album. How do you know it's the Beatles? Weren't you paying attention? Because it's FAMOUS, that's why! Even if you were paying attention, do you know how this cover came to be? I'm here to tell you.

Let's start with Abbey Road itself. Just so happens to be the location of EMI Studios in London. The idea of naming the album but not naming the album after the thoroughfare came from John Kosh, a man not connected to EMI but the Beatles themselves through what was originally intended as a tax shelter by their recently deceased manager Brian Epstein, the now-famous (if never all that particularly productive) Apple Records, itself a division of the larger tax shelter, Apple Corps. LTD. Kosh was Apple's creative director, but he didn't take the photo. That was a man by the name of Iain Macmillan, pictured above. Ironically, given the mood of reconciliation that surrounded the recording of the new album, Macmillan entered the Beatles world through a connection that in the very near future would come to be seen, perhaps unfairly, as the main cause of the iconic music group's eventual breakup: Yoko Ono. In 1966, Yoko had commissioned Macmillan to photograph an exhibition of her art at London's counterculture Indica Gallery. Paul McCartney was a friend of the gallery's owners, did his best to promote the gallery, and encouraged John Lennon to pay a visit, which he did just as it was showing the aforementioned exhibition by the young Japanese avant-garde artist. Little did McCartney know that John and Yoko would hit it off. If he had known, he probably would not...Hmm, this post was meant to be about Abbey Road's cover art, and now it's veering into something else. Let me get back to my original intent. Yoko eventually introduced Lennon to Macmillan, and the two of them also hit it off, if not in quite the same way. Three years later, Lennon asked Macmillan to photograph the album cover.

On August 8, 1969 at about 11:30 am, Lennon, McCartney, George Harrison, and Ringo Starr arrived at EMI records and took their walk across the street. There were actually six walks across the street, as nobody was quite sure what they wanted, while Macmillan sat on top a ten-foot stepladder with his camera, a policeman directing traffic behind him. Since there's some squinting involved, I'll do my best to describe them. Clockwise, the first photo has John, followed, left to right, by Ringo, Paul (in sandals), and George. The second photo has John, followed, right to left, by Ringo, Paul (in sandals), and George. The third photo is John, followed again left to right, by Ringo, Paul (barefoot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and George. There's some traffic buildup (HONK! HONK! "%#@^&*+%# longhaired freaks! Don't they know it's almost lunch time?!") If you know the physics of repeatedly crossing the street, then you'll have by now figured out that photo number four is right to left, led by John, same order. Paul's sandals are back on. Most of the traffic is now gone, though one of those London double-decker buses has stuck around to watch. Photo number five, again left to right, this time in formation, rather than everyone walking whatever the hell way they please. Paul has a cigarette dangling from his hand (I do hope a hot ash doesn't fall on his once-again bare foot.) The sixth and final photo is one last right to left, the double-decker bus now headed in the opposite direction.

It had been Paul's idea that they should all cross the street, so he got to be the one to choose which of the six photos to use. As you saw, he chose, going clockwise, photo number five. It was a fateful decision. Partly because quite a few people took it to be a fatal decision, as Paul's bare feet was taken as a sign that he had died! I've never understood this. If was Paul was laying collapsed on the road all green and bloated with bits of bone poking through decomposing flesh, then, yeah, I could see where an intelligent person might conclude he had died. But bare feet? Since when is that alone a sign of rigor mortis? Am I now to assume all those people I see on the beach this time of year are zombies? If the Abbey Road cover wasn't enough, the back cover of the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band album of two years earlier retroactively was added to the Paul-is-dead rumor since his head is turned away as John, George, and Ringo face forward. Then there are those who think the whole thing was a publicity stunt, that McCartney just wanted people to think he was dead to sell more albums, as if that was ever much of a problem for the Beatles. Such a stunt, which I don't think it was, would have been doomed to fail. From sometime early in 1964 to the present day there's always been paparazzi waiting to snap a picture of Paul, thereby proving his continued existence. It's not like he's Andy Kaufman.

 

Aside from Paul McCartney's bare feet, there are a few other details about the cover I'd like to point out. Since the photo was taken in a public place, some members of the public inevitably ended up in the photo, such as those three little dudes just above Paul's head. Of course, that's all a matter of perspective. The three were in fact normal-sized and standing some distance away from Paul. They're Alan Flanagan, Steve Millwood, and Derek Seagrove, three interior decorators out on a lunch break. Across the street, not quite as far away but far enough, a man appears to be to the left (but in fact is to the right) of John Lennon's head. That's 57-year-old American tourist Paul Cole. Bored with museums at that point, he told his wife to go in one alone while he wandered about outside, and that wandering led him to the photo shoot. Now, it's not just people who ended up in this picture, but, as you might expect since it is a roadway, automobiles as well. In particular, a Volkswagen Beetle parked not too far from where George Harrison takes his stroll. I don't think you can quite make it out in the pictures I provide here, but had you had the album in your hand--remember, it's a vinyl LP--the license plate is clearly marked LMW 281F. Clear enough to be seen that the plate was repeatedly stolen from the car after the album was released. Oh, well, at least the hubcaps were left untouched. 

Finally, I said at the beginning of this post that the cover says neither the name of the band nor the name of the album. Well, it doesn't say those things on the front cover. Flip it over and the information is readily available. After John, Ringo, Paul, and George were finished with their multiple road crossings, Iain Macmillan set about looking for a street sign. He found one on an old wall. The Beatles name was cleverly superimposed at a later date (a crack on the wall runs through the S), but I understand that it really did say Abbey Road. However, if you happen to be in London, don't go looking for it, as the wall has since been demolished. But it was there for Macmillan's purposes. He stood in front of that wall, made sure his camera was loaded and snapped the picture, only to look up and find...

...somebody had gotten in the way! This is said to have pissed off Macmillan greatly, and he went on to take another picture, but, as you can see, the botched photo ended up being used anyway. Probably someone at EMI or Apple figured that if a photo shoot must be disrupted, there are worse disruptions than a young woman in a minidress. Her identity remains unknown.