The Sub Pop years, when one photographer handled the label’s entire visual identity

Transmission 377: Interview with Charles Peterson

Charles Peterson is a photographer whose work helped shape the visual identity of the Seattle “grunge” movement, providing the visceral imagery through which the world first encountered the scene. As a child, he became interested in photography after watching his uncle develop film. While attending Bothell High School, his photographs appeared in the yearbook and school newspaper. A graduate of the University of Washington, he worked as a documentarian and fine-art photographer, developing a distinctive street-oriented aesthetic. He later worked at Sub Pop Records in Seattle as a jack-of-all-trades while also handling in-house photography. Peterson has said that when he first heard Nirvana’s debut album, Bleach, he was completely blown away.

From that moment on, a deep mutual trust developed between them; this bond became the key that allowed his photography to show the rest of the world exactly how this specific picture went with that raw sound. His work has a strong feeling of movement, which is partly due to the way he took his photos. He used an off-camera flash while filming. In essence, he was using light to paint. He would be dancing or moving about as he was taking photos since he is also a major admirer of the music. He documented the true soul of grunge live concert: the chaotic energy and the dynamic connection between the musicians and the audience. He immortalized a guy scrambling to the top of an amplifier and leaping, a stage diver at an early Nirvana gig that makes people nowadays ask if he broke his neck. He introduced a visage to the sounds of the era that was so important to a lot of people, producing a stunning flashback of the essence and the beginnings of the entire “grunge” movement. Charles Peterson transformed the sweat and noise into timeless fine art.

His “full-frame” aesthetic is a new gold standard for music photography. Consequently, a lot of that same movement at that particular instant is captured in the images. His images have been featured on the covers of era-defining records for Sub Pop, SST, and Touch and Go Records, and his archives serve as the definitive visual history of the youth of that era’s cultural revolution, but can be the vessel and inspiration of the rebel youth in every era. He helped define the visual identity of a generation, bridge the gap between the sweaty, alcohol-soaked clubs of the 1980s and the hallowed halls of fine art museums where his work now lives; they are a powerful communicative witness. He captured the defining visual chroniclers of bands like Nirvana, Soundgarden, and Mudhoney at their most raw, on stage, in motion, and often mid-chaos.Today, his work is held in the permanent collections of the Chrysler Museum of Art and the Museum of Pop Culture (MoPOP), and his numerous monographs, including “Screaming Life: A Chronicle of the Seattle Music Scene” 1995 Harper Collins, “Pearl Jam: Place/Date” 1997 Rizzoli, “Touch Me I’m Sick” 2006, with Eddie Vedder  Introduction   “Cypher” 2008. “Charles Peterson’s Nirvana“, 2024, and “WE’RE ALL PROS HERE: Under the Covers with Charles Peterson’s Nirvana” both published by Minors Matters Books, continuing to influence a new generation of photographers seeking the “grace” in the middle of chaos.

Official site | Instagram

Did your passion for photography start in childhood? What were the first images that truly moved you, and which artists have influenced your work the most since then?

It did actually, when I was around seven years old. I have an uncle who had a darkroom, and I could sit there for hours and watch prints come to life in the trays. We also listened to classic rock (when it was new, before it became classic) and that also started my love for music. I didn’t begin to truly understand the power of photography until high school though, when I discovered the great street photographers of the sixties and seventies, such as Lee Friedlander, Gary Winogrand, and the legendary Henri Cartier-Bresson. I loved the way they placed objects in the frame to create a sort of dynamic tension, without being so obvious about it. Larry Fink would probably be the biggest influence to remain with me through to this day. My publisher, who knew him, was going to give him a copy of my Nirvana book, which excited me to no end. Sadly he passed away before it was finished.

He is well known for his action-packed, also somewhat blurred black-and-white photos made with a wide-angle lens.

You’ve said you wanted viewers to feel like they were there. Can you tell us about the main challenges in translating sound, raw energy and chaos into a still image?

A still image is something that needs to stand on its own, so one has to make it dynamic enough to not only bear repeated viewings, but it also needs to speak to people beyond just the who, what, and where. Since I had studied classic photographers and fine art darkroom techniques, I also knew that the quality of the final print was vitally important, and could actually make or break how good a photograph could be. Since I was using flash, there would be lots of overly bright areas I needed to tone down, and conversely other areas in shadow I needed to bring up. I also knew that I had to confront the chaos with a bit of my own chaos, if that makes any sense. If I played it to straight, without the blur or dynamic compositions, it would just be another flat, boring photo of some band on a stage. These bands weren’t famous yet, so I had to make people care and wonder about the photo first, and not just who the band was. 

Your images shaped the identity of grunge as much as they documented it. How did you navigate the balance between your own internal experience and the external world you are capturing?

Well, I always considered myself an artist first and foremost. Of course there were occasions I had to do what we call ‘journeymen’ work – posed photos etc. But I knew that if I capitulated to trends, or got too hung up on celebrity, I wouldn’t achieve the distinctive images I was after.

Charles Peterson’s photography is more than just a document of the era; it’s an intentional, high-energy art form that defined the visual language of the 1990s.

When you were shooting bands like Nirvana or Soundgarden. What did the camera allow you to see and understand that others in the room might have missed? Can you share a favorite anecdote from one of those collaborations?

Hmmm… I guess since I was using flash quite often, with a slow shutter speed to blur the available light, the camera was ‘seeing’ the proceedings in an entirely different way than we do in three dimensions and in motion.  It added light that was not there – I go back and watch videos of some of the shows I was shooting and it’s sometimes surprising just how dim and cramped the spaces were. So I was adding my own layer(s) to what actually existed.

Do you have any regrets regarding scenes you didn’t capture when you had the opportunity? Is there a particular ‘mental photograph’ you still carry with you?

Oh yea. One in particular was before the Nirvana Raji’s show. I walked into the club and Kurt and Krist had broken guitar parts laid out before them on the floor. But before I could pull out my camera (which involved assembling the flash , etc) I was called away to help go find a hotel room by Jon and Bruce of Sub Pop (neither of whom could drive). It’s the image that wakes me up at night.

Because Charles was moving while the flash was moving, some of his photos could be mistaken to be multiple exposures even though they aren’t, which causes blur and light streaks.

You started during the analog era of film and physical prints. Do you have a ‘nightmare’ session story or perhaps a time when crucial rolls of film were lost?

I had one roll not wind on, in the camera at the end of an outrageous Mudhoney show. That stung. And I’ve had a number of original color slides go missing over the years, including Nirvana. I’ve always been a one man show, so sometimes things just got away from me.

What about “expect the unexpected”? What was the most chaotic shoot you’ve experienced, and how did it open your mind to a new creative perspective?

Great question, though my answer is going to be lousy. I love chaos, but I prefer to be in control during it. If things broke, or went sideways, it usually just left me thinking I should try and find a different career! As photographers we’re there to tame that chaos, make some sort of sense of it. I do prefer approaching perfection by using imperfection – not looking through the viewfinder for a more radical perspective, cutting off heads, obscuring faces, using closed eyes for emotion, and so on. After a while it becomes muscle memory, and it really frees one up to become looser, but still in control. Of course there was no way for me to know what or how things might turn out in the moment, as we can do now with digital, so I had to rely on what we call practiced luck.

Is there a specific photo or photo shoot in your archive that holds significant meaning for you? Can you share the story behind it and what makes it so special?

The most special one for me has always been the photo of Kurt looking over at me during the Reading Festival concert in 1992. He looked over at Mark Arm and I, who was sitting next to me, and asked if we thought everything was okay (couldn’t really hear him that well but it was an easy lip read). Yes, we shouted and waved at him to go back to paying attention to the 45,000 fans in front of him. It was a sweet moment, as he was more intent on his old friends in the moment rather than being a rock star, and the calm, benevolent look on his face in the photo portrays just that.

Charles Peterson is the legendary photographer responsible for the visual language of the Seattle Grunge era.

Having published five books from your photography archive that document unique moments, what was the most unexpected challenge you faced, and what did you learn from overcoming it?

It’s always editing. And I would say that’s true for most photographers. It’s really the make or break when doing a book. I’m considered by photo editors a high hit rate photographer (i.e. I could come up with say 24 pretty good or great images out of 36) so choosing has always been the biggest issue for me. It can lead to decision paralysis at times. And the best thing I’ve learned is to edit for your art, not for some nebulous, middle the road idea of what you think your audience might want to see (they’re not the photographer – you are).

In the era of selfies and social media, how has the relationship between musicians, photographers, and the audience evolved? Do you feel something has been lost in the way people experience and remember concerts today?

Yes and no. There’s some pretty great music photographers out there, especially on a local level. But with big shows it’s too easy. I feel with the high level of technical sophistication that cameras have become (and the lighting) for everything to become quite same-y. And then it becomes more about mere representation of who’s who and the spectacle, versus creating an emotional bond to the music that moves beyond just the here and now. It often seems as if there’s not as much craft involved now, as the camera takes care of much of that on the spot. But post work (whether it’s the darkroom or now the digital lab of Photoshop and Lightroom) is vital to the final image, and how it affects the viewer. The camera is just a dumb object, but we’ve come to believe in them as ’smart’ and that’s tricky, because they are only as smart as the people who programmed them. And that’s not art, that’s just setting menus and pushing a button.

Photos courtesy of © Charles Peterson

Dominique Musorrafiti

Ciao! My name is Dominique. I’m Italian and I’m proud to be a mix. My father was an Italian chemical engineer and high school teacher, with Greek and Polish heritage. My mother is Haitian, she was high school language teacher, with Dominican, Spanish, French, Portuguese, African and Native American heritage. Being a mix makes me appreciate to want to understand different cultures and lifestyles. I grew up in Italy, lived few years in Haiti, travel around main European capitals, lived many years in China, in Spain and UK. Traveling makes me feel that we can learn something from every situation in every part of the world.