JOJO BRADTKE
Jojo’s feature article in Backtracking: Volume 1 can be found here, on Page 12.
Hayley: During my time in the industry, I’ve found there to be a really distinct split between people who fell into their careers by accident and others who carefully carved theirs out. Which of those sounds more true to your situation?
JoJo: I feel like [the former] is what happened to me. Because, to be honest, I’d never thought about photography. I was always creative, especially at school. I was good with art and languages, they were the only [subjects] I was good at. But photography came about really randomly. A lot of things in my life have come about that way, but I’m not afraid to commit to something, especially if I’m enjoying it and I’m passionate about it. I take [those opportunities] as a sign from the universe that I should go for it!
Has music always played an important role in your life?
Ever since I was young. Music was always around my house. I’d wake up and the radio was on, or me and my brother would turn the TV on, looking for new music. In Poland, we had a channel called Viva and there was also MTV Later, back when they still showed music videos... Yes, I am that old! Also, on one of the national Polish channels, there was a music chart every Saturday, so after dinner we’d turn on the TV and check the most popular songs in Poland that week. It was interesting to find out what was popular at the time. I’m sure some of the artists were probably popular at the same time in the UK, but there were a lot of differences too. [In short,] music was always there.
Do you remember your first experience of live music?
The Polish national radio station did free gigs every summer featuring my favourite Polish bands at the time and [one of those was] my first gig. I went a few times with my Mum. I was always so excited—I’d go early, because I wanted to be in the first row.
After that, I had a little break as I got more into manga and anime and Japanese culture. They were the teenage years, when I was spending all my money on that! And then I went to my first festival in 2010—a festival in my hometown, Gdynia, called Open’er Festival—and I just fell in love. I went with my friends and was just amazed by the atmosphere and the kind of artists that were playing there too. I remember it was The Dead Weather, The Hives, Hot Chip... [After that], I started spending all my money on gigs and music festivals. Music started being my thing.
Did you find you made new friends through music?
Many of my friends I met through music and there were some friends from my hometown that I got closer to because of festivals and gigs that we would go to. I also met a lot of people through [online music service] Last.fm. A lot of the festivals had their own groups, so it was always the same people writing comments there. We only knew each other by name, but then we’d meet each other at certain festivals or gigs and have that moment of ‘Ah, it’s you!’. We’d be from different cities in Poland too, so we’d say ‘If you’re coming to [my city], you can stay at mine’.
Like its own strain of social media! So, I might be skipping a few years here, but how did you end up in Manchester?
A love story… I met a guy and he lived in Manchester already. I decided to move here [rather than him moving to Poland] because I already knew the language. Obviously, there was a break up… But I stayed here because I’d already decided that this was my home. I’d already found friends here and settled [in].
Had you been involved at all with live music in Poland?
I’d volunteered at a few music festivals in Poland, building the stage, or in the VIP area, or doing Artist Liaison. I really enjoyed Artist Liaison. I was doing it with one of my friends and neither of us couldn’t believe the people we were meeting. It was at a small festival which sadly doesn’t exist anymore, but it was great.
Then, when I moved to Manchester, I was going to record stores and picking up free magazines—things like The Skinny or Crack Magazine—and just going through festival ads, emailing every single one to see if they needed any help. The only one that replied to me was End of the Road. It’s probably my favourite English festival [because] it always has such a good atmosphere. I did four years with them, on the team with Artist Liaison, and it was always a similar group of people, so like a big family [getting back together].
So when did photography come into the mix?
First, I got a polaroid camera—back in Poland, from a kind of Polish eBay. I think I found it for about ten quid. I started to take pictures of my friends at parties and stuff like that, and when I’d go to gigs, I’d take photos. I really enjoyed it. My friends were always [saying] ‘Do you have your camera? Take a picture!’ and it was the same with End of the Road, they knew that every year I’d bring my camera.
At the time, I was working in a bar, like 40 hours a week, but I was still going to gigs a lot. That was my whole personality. I started to think maybe I should get a film camera, [so I could] start capturing the stuff I was seeing. I found one in a charity shop and started taking it to gigs with me, then posting the photos on Instagram and noticed that people really liked it. Then YES opened.
My work [at the time] was round the corner from YES and one of my managers asked me if I wanted to go to the non-official opening. At that time, most of the money I was spending [on music] was on Now Wave gigs, so I went and took my camera with me. It was busy as fuck, I remember. There were free pints and people were walking around with balloons… It was really cool. I developed my film the next day and posted it on Instagram, then I got a message from this guy I didn’t know saying ‘Hi, I work for YES. How much can you sell us this photo for?’.
I had this little lightbulb moment, like ‘Wait, I can make money from this?’. I had no idea about photography [rates] at the time, I think I said £120 or something. Then I got a message saying ‘Do you want to meet with us?’. So I met with all the directors—the people from Now Wave—and they asked if I wanted to be their house photographer. I had no idea what that meant! They said it meant shooting for the venue and that I didn’t need to pay for gigs ever again. For a music fan, that’s what you want to hear!
To be honest, that’s why I started doing photography—because I wanted to get into gigs for free. That was my main goal. I’d never thought about making money before. I was never thinking ‘Ah, I’m going to be rich, I’m going to have a house with a pool!’. I was just doing it for passion. I still am doing it for passion, but obviously right now I’m trying to live from it.
What’s the role of a gig photographer in your view?
I was always amazed by the photographers at gigs and festivals, how they could capture the atmosphere. That’s what I’m always trying to do, [capture] the moments that, especially if somebody was at that gig, they’ll see and go ‘Ah, that’s exactly how it was!. I always want to try to capture those moments in my photos.
“I was always amazed by the photographers at gigs and festivals, how they could capture the atmosphere. That’s what I’m always trying to do”
I love what you say on your website, where you describe yourself as a ‘photographer documenting the vibrancy of live music experiences, specialising in crafting visually compelling images that sum up the dynamism and emotion of each performance’. I think it’s useful—and probably uncommon—for consumers of music photography to think of the photographers as artists in their own right.
I remember my first gig in a proper photo pit. Funnily, it was at the Albert Hall, [where] Stephen Malkmus from Pavement was doing his solo stuff. At the time, I didn’t have a proper digital camera, I was still shooting on film. I mean, it doesn’t matter what kind of camera you have, you can shoot on anything but at the time, I had an Olympus Mju with black film in it and for whatever reason, I didn’t have enough confidence to go into the photo pit with it, even though I had a pass. I was embarrassed, and scared that the other photographers with their big lenses were going to judge me. So I shot from the crowd instead. But once I’d got them developed—and to be honest, they’re still some of my favourite photographs I’ve taken, I love them—I [thought] ‘Why didn’t I go into the photo pit?’. In the moment, I was embarrassed by the camera I had, but after that I thought ‘Fuck it, I don’t care’. It was a life lesson, I guess.
I think sometimes I had imposter syndrome. [I’d wonder] why am I here, why am I doing this, someone else should be doing it. Then I started to think ‘No, you shouldn’t talk to yourself like that, you’re here for a reason, because you’re fucking great, you’re talented’. Obviously that came over the years. A lot of the time, I’m faking confidence—and it works! I mean, fake it til you make it.
Does anything still make you feel that way?
To be honest, if someone asks me what kind of camera they need to buy or any kind of technical stuff, I always say I have no idea. I literally tell them to Google it. I found out about cameras through Reddit and YouTube. I’d [type in] ‘What’s the best lens for music photography?’ and obviously the first ones that would show up were thousands of pounds, so I’d find a different one, a cheaper one.
If there’s something you don’t know, I’d recommend going to Reddit. [Either that,] or just asking people. Don’t be afraid to message photographers. They aren’t always going to have time, so don’t take it personally if they don’t respond—but just ask! People like to help because they’ve been in the same situation as you before. I wish I’d had someone to show me everything and I think sometimes I was too afraid to ask, but I’ve gotten more confident with that too.
Your work itself these days exudes confidence. Tell me about your relationship to colour.
I’ve always liked colour. I’ve always worn colourful clothes, and every year I try to choose a different colour—like ‘This year’s gonna be more blue, this year’s gonna be pink’. I think sometimes it relates to my mood too.
There’s an anime and manga called Nana about a fictional band and I remember they had fake press photos that were really colourful. I’m always trying to put something from that [world] into my work, because I was always obsessed with the style of the drawings and the colours that they were using. Also sometimes when I’m watching certain movies, there’ll be a certain shot and I’ll stop it for a moment and just [take in] the colours they’ve used. I’m amazed by it!
Having such a unique style must naturally set you apart from other photographers.
Sometimes artists that I’ve photographed reach out to me specifically because of my style. That’s the magic power that I have. Also, there’s [generally] a big fear among photographers of red lighting and blue lighting. But I’m always excited when there’s a blue light because I know I can change that during editing to pink. And with the red, I’m already in my head thinking OK I can poke this more or project more colours around that.
I guess you have a strange kind of freedom because you’re not constrained by realism in the ways that others might be. When did colour start becoming a focus in your work?
When I was shooting on film, my favourite film was Lomography 800—rest in peace! I would usually get it from Fred Aldous and there was a time, before lockdown, where you could get three rolls for £12.99. I know, shocking! That was my film [of choice], because the colours were really crisp.
And now that you tend to feature more fantastical tones in your photographs, how do you make a decision on what colours to use?
It’s [dictated] a lot by the lighting to be honest. As I was saying, if there’s a blue, I can keep the blue or there’s a way to change it into pink... Maybe one day I’ll make a tutorial, or spill all my secrets on Reddit. Or maybe I should do a Patreon and charge for it, maybe that’s how you make money as a photographer!
I used to edit for hours, but I’ve gotten much faster with it. I could spend all day editing photos from one gig, just me on the sofa with my iPad. Yes, I edit on an iPad! That surprises a lot of people, but I think because I used to draw a lot, it feels much easier to me. Plus, I still don’t own a laptop. I used to do it on my phone before that—an iPhone 6 or something—because I couldn’t afford a laptop.
Another example of not letting a lack of gear get in the way!
I think that’s the biggest struggle for people when they’re starting out. Especially if they’re going to gigs and seeing photographers with two cameras and two lenses. People sometimes see that and think ‘Oh my god, this is what I need to get there’. No, you can get any camera and just practice.
When you’re shooting a gig, do you do any planning beforehand?
I’m always trying to do research. Checking the stage set up, if they have anything in the background, checking previous photos on Instagram, checking the set list, trying to work out how many minutes I have… The logistics of it. I’m a control freak, I’m not going to lie! With all that, I already have the image that I want to capture in my head [before the gig starts]. [Though that does mean that] sometimes you can get disappointed if you don’t get it.
Do you ever feel conflicted between your own artistic impulses and what you know a commissioning client might want or need from you?
An artist’s manager once asked if I could send them the raw, unedited photos—and for some reason, I said yes. It caught me by surprise and after I thought, ‘Fuck, why have I done that’. I sent all the photos—including edited ones—and the only one they used was an unedited one. I saw it and thought ‘This is not me’. It absolutely didn’t represent what I do.
I’ve done odd jobs, maybe creative events, where I’ve still used colours, but maybe they were slightly less ‘colourful’ than usual. But sadly, if you’re doing stuff like that, you’re doing it for money [so you have to do what the client wants]. By my logic [though], if someone’s hiring me, they’ve seen what I do and they’re hiring me because of that. If they’re asking me to do something else, I don’t understand why they’d [approach] me when there are other people who already [photograph] in the way that [they’re asking me to]. I just want to do my thing and keep my creative freedom. I know sometimes that’s going to be impossible if I want to get paid, but I’d prefer to stay true to myself. I also feel like if it were a male photographer doing the sort of thing that I’m doing, they wouldn’t ask him [to change].
Does ‘doing your thing’ fit in with house photography? I mean, with YES you were essentially headhunted…
Definitely. The people at YES got me into it because they like the stuff that I’m doing. There’s never been a moment when they’ve said ‘Can you do it this way instead?’ and I’m really grateful for that. Same at the Albert Hall.
How did you get started there?
The amazing angel Hannah—who I had met years before—started working at the Albert Hall and one day she messaged me asking if I wanted to shoot Warpaint. After that, there were more gigs and then she asked if I wanted to join the team. It was always my favourite venue and I have the best memories there. The good thing about the Albert Hall is that there are a few [house photographers] and each of us shoots in a totally different style. [Recently,] there was a Pixies show and it was really cool to see the same gig captured in a different way by each photographer.
For anyone who doesn’t know, how does house photography work?
So basically with YES, I have the freedom to come over and shoot whatever I want.
At the Albert Hall, it’s different. We get a list around two months ahead and send requests for the gigs we want to shoot. Hannah does the best she can, but obviously because there’s more of us, you’re not going to get every [show you’ve asked for].
Is it nice to have a regular place—or two!—of work?
Sometimes, it’s nice going somewhere where you know the way you’re going to be treated. Especially if you’ve had a bad day, and you go in and someone says ‘The usual?’. It’s nice, like ‘Ah, they know me!’. And in any job, I always try to talk to everyone—security, kitchen staff, bar staff. They’re the people that are working the hardest, I’m just coming over taking photos. We need to show appreciation to the people that are doing the hard jobs, that’s one of the main rules in life for me.
Is it helpful logistically too, to be so familiar with a venue?
I think it is. Sadly at YES, there’s no photo pit and as I said before I’m a control freak, I need to be on a certain spot, so I might ask if I can come over five minutes before doors [to set up]. Obviously, it’s different in a venue with a photo pit because you can just chill before and you don’t need to wait. But especially at somewhere like YES—or another venue without a pit—I like to come over earlier because I don’t want to piss off the people in the crowd who’ve been waiting or queuing by coming over with my camera like ‘Excuse me, excuse me!’ [last minute]. Obviously, that’s not always possible, but I don’t mind waiting. I like meeting people in the crowd and chatting to them.
Generally, how does it work with other jobs? Is it just a case of pitching to other people or places?
I’m still trying to understand how it works myself to be honest. I think the main issue is that if you’re emailing managers or staff, they think you want to do it for ‘experience’—so no money—so then you need to follow up that email [making it clear] that ‘I’m looking for a paid opportunity’.
It’s hard for me to understand sometimes how you can be in a venue at a gig and everybody’s getting paid except the photographer. The merch person, the box office person, the bar staff, the sound guy… The only person not getting paid is the photographer.
Especially at a time when images are so important.
There’s still a bit of a taboo [around talking] about how much photographers should charge. If someone’s just starting out, they’re always being told to ‘charge what they think’, but they have no idea of the rate standards because no one talks about it. If a more experienced photographer says to someone starting out, ‘just charge what you think’ but then they [charge a low rate], they’d be all ‘Because of you, no one wants to hire photographers who’re charging more’. So help people! No one’s going to know [what to charge] when they start, especially if no one’s talking about it. I don’t understand why people are so afraid to talk about money.
Do you feel like that’s changing?
I think it’s gotten much better. I was struggling with it at the beginning, because I had no idea of the rates. And I’ve done loads of free jobs. Sometimes, I thought ‘Oh god, it’s because of me that no one’s hiring the other photographers’, which is crazy! We just should help each other out.
I assume photography’s the same as any other job in that some days you’re more motivated to go to work than others… Do you ever struggle to maintain your passion for it?
There was a time last year, I think it was in November, when I was still working at my full time job and I shot around 23 gigs while working 9 to 5 Monday to Friday. I was exhausted. In December, I was like ‘I don’t want to see any bands, I don’t want to go to any gigs’, even [if it’s not for work].
I had a lot of FOMO before, especially when I was younger. I always thought ‘I can’t miss it, I need to do this, I need to do that’. People around me were telling me that I was doing too much—and sometimes we need to hear it from other people. [But now] I listen to my body more. I think when you’re in your thirties, you suddenly want to be more gentle to your body and you start to think ‘I should slow down’. Maybe I shouldn’t shoot this gig, maybe I should stay at home and watch a TV series instead or have a glass of wine and just chill. Listen to your body and if you’re tired, just stay at home. You don’t need to shoot that gig, just stay at home and get some sleep.
And on the flip side, do you ever experience moments in which you feel particularly grateful to have the job you do?
One moment like that for me was shooting Pavement at the O2 Apollo. They actually posted my photos on their Instagram. I literally screamed [when I saw them], I might even have cried. On one of them, they posted a really nice description saying that it looked like an album cover, like a psych project [by] the artist. Reading it, I couldn’t believe it. It made me think ‘This is why I’m doing this. To shoot my favourite artists and then get appreciation from them’.
A more recent one was Olivia Dean at the Albert Hall. Usually, if I’m shooting, I’m staying after the gig and I’m enjoying myself, but that night, me and some friends stayed and had a proper boogie. Olivia is a queen and goddess, and that was probably one of my favourite gigs I’ve seen this year.
I remember seeing those photos on Instagram and thinking they were beautiful, so ethereal. What’s your relationship to social media like?
If I’m posting a photo, I don’t care if it gets 20 likes or 100 likes. My main goal is that the artist is going to see it. [Taking photographs] is my way to give something back and to show my appreciation, so I hope they’re going to see it and message me, because when that happens it’s amazing.
“If I’m posting a photo, I don’t care if it gets 20 likes or 100 likes. My main goal is that the artist is going to see it.”
Do you think that working in venues on such a wide variety of shows has affected your music taste at all?
I still have that drive to discover new music, I still get excited about new bands. [Especially at] YES, the stuff that they put on, I want to discover it too.
What makes an act or artist good or bad to shoot?
Sadly, the main thing—especially in big venues—is lighting. I’m OK with blue and red, but I’ve shot a few gigs where it was just darkness. Flashing lights are not a friend to photographers [either]. Obviously they look cool, but…
[Also,] at the Albert Hall, from the beginning for me, a struggle was how high the stage is. You’re probably not thinking about that from the crowd, but in the pit you realise how high the stage is—and I’m not the tallest person. Sometimes, I literally need to go on my toes to get the shot! But after shooting so many gigs there, I’ve figured out the best angle for me to capture a moment the way I want to or the way I imagined it.
You must feel so much pressure, especially if you’ve only got three songs to get the shot!
For anyone who doesn’t know, in venues where there’s a photo pit, 99% of the time you’re allowed to shoot for the first three songs, no flash, and then you’re escorted out. Usually you can stay for the gig, as long as you don’t take any more photos. Sometimes, management says you can shoot the whole set which is fun, but at the same time, I love music and I love gigs, I also want to [have time to] enjoy myself.
There are certain exceptions where maybe I know something’s going to happen after the first three songs, so I [stick around] to capture that, or there are some shows where you come back to the pit for the last song. [What’s frustrating is] when you were given the first three songs [to shoot during] and then there’s better lighting after that. Like, come on! Don’t you want good photos?!
I don’t think I’d like being at the liberty of so many things outside of my control…
I [actually] prefer when I only have the first three songs [to get the shot]. I try to do that for the gigs I shoot without a pit as well. You get freedom after, you can enjoy yourself! You don’t need to worry after that.
I think that’s the reason I don’t do a lot of portraits or press shots. I get messages, but I always decline and recommend my other photographer friends—people I know who are absolutely amazing at it. Because to be honest, I’m not really confident with that stuff. Maybe it’s because I’m still [unsure] of the technical stuff—[that fear of] ‘What if it doesn’t happen and I have no idea what to do?’—but at the same time, I often don’t know how to express [whatever] idea I have in my head to other people. If you’re in the photo pit, that’s a different story—everything’s already set up, you’re just moving around and capturing it.
At what point do you know you’ve got the shot?
Sometimes, it’s while I’m taking photos. [I’ll take] a certain photo and I’ll swear to myself in Polish—luckily, no one hears because it’s too loud! There are a lot of gigs where I leave like ‘Yeah, I got it’, but there are others where it’s like ‘Shite, nothing’. But then I upload the photos onto my iPad and I’m like ‘Oh yeah, there’s actually so many, I can do this to it and that’.
[For example,] when I was shooting Lankum at Albert Hall in January—who were fucking mindblowing by the way, one of those bands you just need to witness—they were way in the back, closer to the back of the stage, and I figured out a way to make it work. [I thought] I’m just going to do loads of close ups in the editing process and it worked out, I’m still really happy with the photos.
What goes through your head while you’re in the pit, especially when you’re dealing with an unexpected challenge?
How am I going to get out of this! Because there’s always a way, even if it seems bad. A therapist I had once told me a great thing. She said, ‘Why are you worried about something that you have no control over?’. And I thought, ‘Yeah, you’re right. Why?’. That changed my mindset, I think it made me more chill. Even when there are flashing lights or a dark stage, I’m like ‘I’m going to figure it out, it’s going to be fine’. [After all,] they’re just photos!
Especially now that so many of us tend to take photos at gigs on our phones, I’m sure there are a lot of people who’d not only love to do what you do but also think they’d be good at it. Aside from endless hours of editing, what’s another less glamorous aspect of gig photography that people don’t tend to see or think of?
I used to have this mindset of ‘I need to be the first one to post [photos from a gig]’. Luckily, I stopped thinking that way and started giving myself more time. I still try to do it the next day, but I try not to rush it anymore. Maybe sometimes [that means] staying for a pint with my friends instead of going straight home to edit the photos.
Has being a photographer rewired the way that you enjoy live music?
Sometimes, when I watch an artist performing, in my mind I’ll think ‘That would be a shot’. Or if they do something exciting with the lighting. Recently, I went to see The Killers at Co-op Live and the production of the show was just mind blowing. [At the time, I thought] that would be amazing to shoot.
Speaking of Co-op Live, Manchester’s lucky to have so many amazing music venues and even more photographers who want to shoot in them. How do you deal with not getting a job you might have wanted?
I always try not to take it personally. I just think ‘There’ll be another time, it’s going to happen’. I’ve tried five times to get a photo pass for The National [for example]—they’re like my favourite band—and again [this year], it didn’t happen. But I know one day it’s going to.
I don’t think you should put yourself down about rejections, because it’s all part of the journey—and of life [more generally]. Sadly, it’s a part of working in the industry—you’re going to hear ‘no’ sometimes—but I think you should focus on all the yeses you’ve had instead of all the nos.
Does that mindset help with seeing other photographers as a source of community rather than competition?
If I go into a pit and I see someone who isn’t a man, I understand how they could feel like maybe they’re not a part of it. I still feel like I don’t fit in in the industry sometimes! I think it’s nice just to say hello and ask them about their work, who they’re shooting for [and so on], especially if it’s their first gig in the pit. I wish someone had come over to me and done the same thing when I was starting out. I always think in life you should treat people the same way you’d like to be treated.
On that note, is there anything you’d like to change about the industry?
First of all, pay people for their work, simple as that. They’re doing the work, so pay them for it. Second of all, don’t ask people to edit [their photos] in a different way. Would you ask a DJ to send you an unedited track? I don’t think so, so why would you ask another creative to do the same thing? And [lastly,] just be kind to people. Make more space for women, queer people, people of colour. Showcase all those talents.
Do you have any particular goals for where you’d like to take your career?
Artist wise, like I said, The National. I’d absolutely love to shoot Florence + the Machine, but I’d probably end up crying in the pit. LCD Soundsystem would be amazing. I always think about something like Tame Impala’s live shows, the amount of visualisation that they have and the colours, photographing something like that would be one of my goals. I’ve always been amazed by the production of it. Maybe working with artists on their visuals, being the creator of all the visuals for an album or a campaign or something. That would be sick—and I think I’d be good at it too.
In terms of festivals, I still want to go to Glastonbury—finally!—even if I go there with an artist. I sent so many emails this year, but the main [response] I got was ‘no budget’ or just no message back.
If you could send one piece of advice back to your younger self when you first started doing photography, what would it be?
Maybe it would be about confidence, you definitely need to be confident with what you’re doing. Don’t worry about what people are going to think, just focus on what you’re doing and you’ll get there. Don’t compare yourself to other people and don’t be afraid of asking questions. There aren’t stupid questions, but there can be stupid answers. Small JoJo, remember that!
And to grown up JoJo?
[These days,] I’m trying not to think ‘What if, what if’ all the time and to just focus on the moment as it’s going by. To take things as they come and just enjoy the ride.