Elvis.
R.I.P. to the great photographer Alfred Wertheimer, known mainly for the extraordinary series (weak word, there are over 3,800 photos) of photos he took of Elvis Presley during the spring and summer of 1956, right before, and just as, the national fame broke over Presley’s head.
Already a regional phenomenon, Elvis was starting to appear on national television shows in the spring of 1956, and would appear on the Ed Sullivan Show in September, which was the real Moment, if you will. But it was starting. The groundswell was building. Wertheimer did not know who Elvis was, had no investment in the new music coming out of the South, but Elvis was up in New York to appear on the Steve Allen Show, and was also about to record a couple of songs at the RCA studio in New York, and Wertheimer was sent to “cover” it as an assignment. What he found was a young man who was so open to the camera, so accessible, that Wertheimer couldn’t believe his luck. 50 years later, he still spoke of Elvis being the best “subject” he ever had. Not before and not after were photos of this nature taken of Elvis. The Colonel, who was just beginning his reign as Elvis’ manager, limited press access to the point that Elvis was rarely interviewed, never appeared on talk shows as a guest, and when the White House contacted Colonel Parker, saying that President Nixon had requested that Elvis come perform at the White House, the Colonel said sure, that would be great, and $25,000 was “our” asking price for such an appearance. The White House contact spluttered – “Colonel Parker, nobody gets paid for playing for the President!” Colonel Parker replied, “Well, I don’t know about that, son, but there’s one thing I do know. Nobody asks Elvis Presley to play for nothing.”
Alfred Wertheimer “got in” with Elvis before the Colonel’s press crackdown. Wertheimer was only supposed to follow Elvis around for his time in New York, but he found himself so captivated by Elvis that he followed him down to Richmond, via train, where Elvis had a concert, and then back up to New York, and then, even better, down to Memphis, where Wertheimer spent a couple of days at the Presley’s brand new home on Audobon Drive.
Elvis on the train, listening to records.
Alfred Wertheimer took the photo that has been my banner for a couple of years now. That’s Elvis and his date backstage at the Mosque Theatre in Richmond. There are more where that came from, the two of them canoodling in the stairwell. It’s not that they were oblivious to the camera. It’s that there was a blend of privacy and exhibitionism in Elvis that made him such a compelling subject. He was both self-aware and unselfconscious. He allowed Wertheimer to follow him into the bathroom, take pictures of him shaving, brushing his teeth. There are photos of Elvis fallen asleep in a pile of fan mail. The only time Elvis balked was when he was going to zip up his fly while getting dressed, and he said to Wertheimer, “Don’t take a picture of that.” Wertheimer didn’t.
Wertheimer’s photos were collected in a gigantic coffee table book that I can’t recommend highly enough: Elvis (One on One)
The photos have been traveling the world in an exhibition from the Smithsonian called “Elvis at 21.” I drove down to Richmond to follow in Elvis’ footsteps, and to also see the exhibit at the museum there. It is well worth seeking out.
You can go check out a ton of Alfred Wertheimer photos on my Elvis Tumblr.
Wertheimer will be sorely missed, especially to Elvis fans, who will be grateful forever for his sensitivity towards this new young sensation with the greasy ducktail and the white bucks. Many mocked Elvis around this time. He was treated as a menace to society. He was pilloried for his seductive movements, called “vulgar.” Wertheimer saw that part of Elvis, saw the chaotic and exhilarating performance he gave in Memphis, and saw everything else: his gentleness with fans who approached him, his self-assuredness when being looked at (as though he knew it was his due, as though he quietly knew that being looked at like this and photographed like this was normal for him), his raucous laughter, his strange remote isolation from all of the mayhem around him.
I mean, look. Just look at this photograph.
Elvis in his bunk on the train.
Some of my favorites below.
Elvis recording “Hound Dog” at RCA in New York. More Wertheimer photos of that grueling (and historic) session here.
Elvis kissing his mother. You can’t see it, but she’s handing him a pair of underwear. White briefs. Think about what that would look like – today or any day. A young rock star with his mother ironing his underwear for him. Elvis was unembarrassed.
Elvis crashed at the Warwick Hotel in New York, surrounded by fan mail.
Elvis horsing around on the train with a new friend.
My favorite of the bunch. Elvis back in Memphis in the new house he bought for himself and his parents, the first house they owned. One of his high school girlfriends had stopped by to say Hi. Look at Elvis, sitting there with no shirt on. Later, he tries to dance with her, and she is clearly embarrassed because, duh, it’s 1956, and he has no shirt on.
It took Elvis half an hour to get his hair right. This is at the Warwick Hotel.
Elvis performing at Russwood Park in Memphis on July 4, 1956. Wertheimer calls this photo ‘the flash.” He took so many photos of that concert, all of them thrilling, but this one was the gem because of that accidental flash from the back – which made it look – in retrospect – like Elvis’ fame exploding in literal form.
Elvis and his date (the same girl he’s tonguing up in the banner) at the coffee shop in the hotel in Richmond. He’s going over his script for the “Steve Allen Show.”
Before the show in Richmond, he and his band members rehearse in the bathroom and the fans outside are so loud the boys can’t hear themselves at all.
Elvis had a pool dug behind his house in Memphis but it hadn’t been filled in yet when Wertheimer visited. Elvis had pulled a garden hose over to the side and was filling the pool that way. So there are all these crazy fun shots of Elvis cavorting in a half-filled pool with his cousins. Elvis’ mom let Wertheimer borrow a pair of swimming trunks, and, worried about his camera, Wertheimer got in there anyway.
I mean ….
RIP, sir.
And thank you.
