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no, i won't show you my sunburn: a photo diary
being a photographic record of the crazy day fox spent in new york, hoping to get a look at Famous People, Walking.
the pictures have been run through photoshop's "auto levels" adjuster, but otherwise not altered in any way (though i present them to you rather smaller than their actual size).
We (self,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bethbethbeth, darthrami, cmshaw) got to Radio City around noon and met up with dementordelta before heading bravely into The Crowd. The insanity was already insane -- some of these girls had been there since 9:00 that morning, and had bags and boxes and probably fucking pup tents, which generally took up more than their share of the sidewalk and probably ended up getting trampled in the melee once things actually started happening.
There were a lot of cameras about before there was really anything for them to look at. Every time they swung one past The Crowd, hundreds -- probably thousands -- of teenagers started screaming. I began to wonder what I had let myself in for.
We were joined by some people whose LJ handles I forget, very sadly, and then bytitti and her two adorable children, and then -- unexpectedly -- by ficbymarks and her friend (whose LJ handle I forget -- look, it was a long day in bright sunshine), who heard us talking about Various Things and eventually said "We don't mean to interrupt, but ... are you slashers?" We agreed, again, that there needs to be a hanky code or something by which we can identify one another in public.
Techies came out and started changing the marquee -- it had previously said "Elton John and His Band 7/19" or something. July 19 hasn't happened yet, but evidently for the day nobody cared. I expect now that the premiere is over they changed it back.
It took them a while to find the E and fit in the blank to finish the line.
But they got it. Note the decorative Aunt Marge.
'Long about 3:00, people began Arriving. They got out of the cars a ways down the block to our left, presumably waved at some people, and then began the trek down the red carpet -- which we couldn't really see, much, at all, because of the phalanx of press
installed between us (sidewalk plebeians) and the yellow brick road. Some folks around us were profoundly annoyed at the press, instructing them loudly to move out of the way -- because, I suppose, they (those around us) deserved to get at least one decent picture more than the press deserved to do their jobs. (There did seem to be a superfluity of press people. There's a woman in a red halter top, who turns up in a later picture, who I didn't see doing a damn thing press-related the whole day, but who did conveniently block a number of shots I could have gotten otherwise. I did not, however, shout abuse at her, nor thank her for ruining my day. Sigh.)
Some people managed to get New York's Finest to ferry their cameras over to the press, who took some pictures for them. Seems like cheating to me, but then I didn't drive down from Montreal.
Young Rupert was the first to arrive, and as luck would have it we were right near his biggest fans. Trying to get a picture of the kid through the crowd of press was very much (I say forhelenish's benefit) like trying to take a picture through a hole in a paper plate:
But I persevered, not being distracted by the screaming of my mob-mates at the arrival of Someone Else, keeping the camera trained on the back of the heads of those members of the press behind whom I knew the Grint was hidden, knowing that for a couple of seconds (and red-halter-top-wearing-woman permitting) he'd be visible in the gaps. And I did have some (limited) success, particularly once I forced my camera to obey me when I went with the optical zoom:
This lying-in-wait approach served me pretty well, actually.
There was only one twin present -- the other had final exams, but this one already finished his? doesn't go to school? blew them off? paid his brother to take them twice? Who knows. In any event, this was James Phelps, who, since he was there by himself, we agreed was actually Phelp (singular). He was tall enough that we could actually see him, which we appreciated.
Alfonso "The Fonz" Cuaron took his sweet time chatting with the press, so there were several opportunities to get pictures of him, most of which were foiled by the press. Did manage a couple, though (which will have to be enough, because my last battery had died by the time we saw, on his way out of the building, that he was wearing Sambas, with his coat and tie).
Someone said "Alan Rickman is right there, omigod" early enough that I had a longer window of time in which to train the camera on him than on other people.
Yeah, I don't know what was up with that hair either. He was really the only badly-coiffed person we saw all day. This is kind of a strange dye-job thing I don't understand, to say nothing of the disarrayed lack-of-combing. Your guess is as good as mine.
In between the big-star madness, we could also see Robbie Coltrane
and young Matthew Lewis
as well as Bonnie Wright and Devon Whatshisname who plays Seamus Finnegan, both of whom are this tall and I didn't have a chance of getting pictures of them in the nanoseconds I could actually see them. Both Tom Felton and the kid who plays Crabbe, whose name I forgot, came down the street from the other direction, between us and the press, much to the wild screaming of the fangirls around us -- but I have pictures of neither. Was changing batteries at the time. Curses!
Young Daniel Radcliffe is a tough kid to catch with a camera. It's not his fault, I suppose -- he's the one the press were crowding around more than anybody else -- but damn! I hung in there, though, and managed to get one decent picture of him (profile is better for him than it is for the Grint, don't you think?):
After dinner, we (self,bethbethbeth, cmshaw, and darthrami only, by now) came back and hung around to see the Famous People emerge after watching their movie. Robbie Coltrane came first, got some applause and cheers, got in a car, and sat there for a while. The car didn't move, and the doors didn't open again to emit any more viewers for several minutes. When they did, people started spilling out in droves. Family members (we assume), contest winners (ditto), Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon with their brood (whom we'd seen arrive), some other apparently famous people I didn't recognize. Young Daniel hurried out and waved for approximately 0.0000000000001 seconds and then leaped into the car. Young Emma, whom I hadn't caught during the arrival madness, hurried out and waved madly until she was sort of stuffed into the car, whereupon she opened the window and waved some more. Look at the child practically climbing out without opening the door:
This was the point at which my last battery went pfft, so I was not able to get a picture of young Daniel waving -- briefly -- through his open window, nor of young Rupert waving -- even more briefly -- through his open window while sort of ducking back into the shadows of the inside of the car, nor of Mr. Alan Rickman being generally pleasant, nor of the Phelp or kid-who-plays-Crabbe or young Matthew Lewis and Bonnie Wright and Devon Whatshisname, nor of the Fonz waving enthusiastically before getting in the car and declining, perfectly reasonably but to the great frustration of the crazy lady next to me, to roll down his window because he was actually on the far side of the car and on the near side was (a woman I assume to be) his wife and their Very Small Child.
Nor was I able to get a picture of young Tom Felton giving us thumbs up, more's the pity. He was the last person to come out, and people around us -- particularly one girl who I made to be about nine, who narrowly missed having her head handed to her, lemme tell ya -- kept screaming for him. And bugging the police! -- "Where's Tom, where's Tom?" (cops: "Who the hell is Tom?") So we'd pretty much figured we'd missed him, he'd gone out another door, something like that, when out comes young Tom, waves for approximately 0.0000000000000001 seconds and gets in the back of the car waiting for him. The screamers scream for him to open the window, so he rolls it down, waves once, and rolls it the hell back up again. We thought that was fabulous, and applauded his good sense. The screamers didn't like it. As the car started to drive away, he rolled down the window again and waved for real;darthrami and I gave him thumbs up, and he paused in his waving to give us thumbs up in return. We were pleased as well as amused.
And that was everyone!
And then it started to rain. [g] Not a lot, though. And we headed back to the Port Authority, and leftbethbethbeth to get on her bus, and got in the car ourselves, and came home. The end!
the pictures have been run through photoshop's "auto levels" adjuster, but otherwise not altered in any way (though i present them to you rather smaller than their actual size).
We (self,
bethbethbeth, darthrami, cmshaw) got to Radio City around noon and met up with dementordelta before heading bravely into The Crowd. The insanity was already insane -- some of these girls had been there since 9:00 that morning, and had bags and boxes and probably fucking pup tents, which generally took up more than their share of the sidewalk and probably ended up getting trampled in the melee once things actually started happening.There were a lot of cameras about before there was really anything for them to look at. Every time they swung one past The Crowd, hundreds -- probably thousands -- of teenagers started screaming. I began to wonder what I had let myself in for.
We were joined by some people whose LJ handles I forget, very sadly, and then by
titti and her two adorable children, and then -- unexpectedly -- by ficbymarks and her friend (whose LJ handle I forget -- look, it was a long day in bright sunshine), who heard us talking about Various Things and eventually said "We don't mean to interrupt, but ... are you slashers?" We agreed, again, that there needs to be a hanky code or something by which we can identify one another in public.Techies came out and started changing the marquee -- it had previously said "Elton John and His Band 7/19" or something. July 19 hasn't happened yet, but evidently for the day nobody cared. I expect now that the premiere is over they changed it back.
It took them a while to find the E and fit in the blank to finish the line.
But they got it. Note the decorative Aunt Marge.
'Long about 3:00, people began Arriving. They got out of the cars a ways down the block to our left, presumably waved at some people, and then began the trek down the red carpet -- which we couldn't really see, much, at all, because of the phalanx of press
installed between us (sidewalk plebeians) and the yellow brick road. Some folks around us were profoundly annoyed at the press, instructing them loudly to move out of the way -- because, I suppose, they (those around us) deserved to get at least one decent picture more than the press deserved to do their jobs. (There did seem to be a superfluity of press people. There's a woman in a red halter top, who turns up in a later picture, who I didn't see doing a damn thing press-related the whole day, but who did conveniently block a number of shots I could have gotten otherwise. I did not, however, shout abuse at her, nor thank her for ruining my day. Sigh.)
Some people managed to get New York's Finest to ferry their cameras over to the press, who took some pictures for them. Seems like cheating to me, but then I didn't drive down from Montreal.
Young Rupert was the first to arrive, and as luck would have it we were right near his biggest fans. Trying to get a picture of the kid through the crowd of press was very much (I say for
helenish's benefit) like trying to take a picture through a hole in a paper plate:But I persevered, not being distracted by the screaming of my mob-mates at the arrival of Someone Else, keeping the camera trained on the back of the heads of those members of the press behind whom I knew the Grint was hidden, knowing that for a couple of seconds (and red-halter-top-wearing-woman permitting) he'd be visible in the gaps. And I did have some (limited) success, particularly once I forced my camera to obey me when I went with the optical zoom:
This lying-in-wait approach served me pretty well, actually.
There was only one twin present -- the other had final exams, but this one already finished his? doesn't go to school? blew them off? paid his brother to take them twice? Who knows. In any event, this was James Phelps, who, since he was there by himself, we agreed was actually Phelp (singular). He was tall enough that we could actually see him, which we appreciated.
Alfonso "The Fonz" Cuaron took his sweet time chatting with the press, so there were several opportunities to get pictures of him, most of which were foiled by the press. Did manage a couple, though (which will have to be enough, because my last battery had died by the time we saw, on his way out of the building, that he was wearing Sambas, with his coat and tie).
Someone said "Alan Rickman is right there, omigod" early enough that I had a longer window of time in which to train the camera on him than on other people.
Yeah, I don't know what was up with that hair either. He was really the only badly-coiffed person we saw all day. This is kind of a strange dye-job thing I don't understand, to say nothing of the disarrayed lack-of-combing. Your guess is as good as mine.
In between the big-star madness, we could also see Robbie Coltrane
and young Matthew Lewis
as well as Bonnie Wright and Devon Whatshisname who plays Seamus Finnegan, both of whom are this tall and I didn't have a chance of getting pictures of them in the nanoseconds I could actually see them. Both Tom Felton and the kid who plays Crabbe, whose name I forgot, came down the street from the other direction, between us and the press, much to the wild screaming of the fangirls around us -- but I have pictures of neither. Was changing batteries at the time. Curses!
Young Daniel Radcliffe is a tough kid to catch with a camera. It's not his fault, I suppose -- he's the one the press were crowding around more than anybody else -- but damn! I hung in there, though, and managed to get one decent picture of him (profile is better for him than it is for the Grint, don't you think?):
After dinner, we (self,
bethbethbeth, cmshaw, and darthrami only, by now) came back and hung around to see the Famous People emerge after watching their movie. Robbie Coltrane came first, got some applause and cheers, got in a car, and sat there for a while. The car didn't move, and the doors didn't open again to emit any more viewers for several minutes. When they did, people started spilling out in droves. Family members (we assume), contest winners (ditto), Tim Robbins and Susan Sarandon with their brood (whom we'd seen arrive), some other apparently famous people I didn't recognize. Young Daniel hurried out and waved for approximately 0.0000000000001 seconds and then leaped into the car. Young Emma, whom I hadn't caught during the arrival madness, hurried out and waved madly until she was sort of stuffed into the car, whereupon she opened the window and waved some more. Look at the child practically climbing out without opening the door:This was the point at which my last battery went pfft, so I was not able to get a picture of young Daniel waving -- briefly -- through his open window, nor of young Rupert waving -- even more briefly -- through his open window while sort of ducking back into the shadows of the inside of the car, nor of Mr. Alan Rickman being generally pleasant, nor of the Phelp or kid-who-plays-Crabbe or young Matthew Lewis and Bonnie Wright and Devon Whatshisname, nor of the Fonz waving enthusiastically before getting in the car and declining, perfectly reasonably but to the great frustration of the crazy lady next to me, to roll down his window because he was actually on the far side of the car and on the near side was (a woman I assume to be) his wife and their Very Small Child.
Nor was I able to get a picture of young Tom Felton giving us thumbs up, more's the pity. He was the last person to come out, and people around us -- particularly one girl who I made to be about nine, who narrowly missed having her head handed to her, lemme tell ya -- kept screaming for him. And bugging the police! -- "Where's Tom, where's Tom?" (cops: "Who the hell is Tom?") So we'd pretty much figured we'd missed him, he'd gone out another door, something like that, when out comes young Tom, waves for approximately 0.0000000000000001 seconds and gets in the back of the car waiting for him. The screamers scream for him to open the window, so he rolls it down, waves once, and rolls it the hell back up again. We thought that was fabulous, and applauded his good sense. The screamers didn't like it. As the car started to drive away, he rolled down the window again and waved for real;
darthrami and I gave him thumbs up, and he paused in his waving to give us thumbs up in return. We were pleased as well as amused.And that was everyone!
And then it started to rain. [g] Not a lot, though. And we headed back to the Port Authority, and left
bethbethbeth to get on her bus, and got in the car ourselves, and came home. The end!
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BTW, Monica was asking if she could come to work with me so she could see all of you again, since she knows I work in Manhattan.
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your girls are omg teh cyoote! what a pair of sweethearts.
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And here I spend all my time teaching them proper spelling so when they grow up they can write netspeak. LOL
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And as the official apologist for Alan's hair, can I just say that I'm not so sure that's a half-assed dye job (i.e., I think it's real). His hair's been coming in grey like that for years...it was only a matter of time before he looked like he was wearing a bad blondish toupee inexpertly paper-clipped to his real hair. *g*
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(Anonymous) 2004-05-25 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)no subject
Loverly pictures of everyone though, good job!
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(Anonymous) 2004-05-26 12:36 am (UTC)(link)Bwahhahaha! Priceless, and so true. Is he filming something now? It almost makes me think it's for some part.
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