Howard Ho Ho promises not to pinch
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I’m walking down the red carpet into the Staples Center
where the Grammy Awards await my presence. I pinch myself and
realize that this is not a dream.
Without paparazzi, without Joan Rivers, without screaming
idolators, the red carpet seems to be just another rug. Yet it is a
place where the movers and shakers of music come to get recognition
for their achievements.
Spending an evening around the Staples Center the day before the
actual show, I saw what one sees every day in Downtown Los Angeles:
a desolate concrete jungle. However, inside the auditorium was
another world, one of lights, performers, technicians, elaborate
sets and, of course, red carpets galore.
When I entered Staples Center, all I could hear was the mindless
thumping of a bass drum during a sound check. Upon closer
inspection, multiple-nominee India Arie was gracing the stage
soulfully, gently caressing her band members with seductive smiles
and playful body language. She was having a good time, dressed in
her casual attire and characteristic bandanna-tied hair. Around her
band were technicians talking endlessly about details and
requesting more sound checks.
The lights encompassed everything. Stage lights flickered on the
back seats of the auditorium. A thin layer of smoke gave the lights
shape and a sense of tangibility. High above the seats and the
stage hung more lights on steel wires. Technicians on a floating
scaffold island ran around 100 feet in the air with safety
harnesses around their bodies, fixing the various lights, lasers
and cords that demanded attention.
Below the lights, various industry insiders mingled. Robert
Knight, the rock star photographer, sat watching the show with his
camera resting by his feet. Considering he has worked with people
like Jimi Hendrix, Elton John, Eric Clapton and Slash, he
wasn’t exactly in paparazzi mode.
“I’m taking pictures back stage, not out
here,” Knight said, noting twe were about 50 feet from the
actual stage.
While both the Lakers and the Clippers are hauling their butts
around the country, their home court has become a seating area of
fold-up chairs for nominees, presenters, distinguished guests and
performers. On the seats are large white cards with the name of the
artist that will sit there. Within a few feet of each other are the
seats of Melissa Etheridge, Outkast, Coldplay, Randy Travis and
Linkin Park.
“I think that’s the funniest part of it,”
Knight said. “They’re not here, but they’re here
already.”
I wonder what the artists think of such a mixed seating
arrangement. It must be the least of their worries after
considering the fact that award shows are as much media frenzies as
they are award shows.
Though the artists can enter from more discreet places, they
also have the choice of arriving to the show on the red carpet.
There they will face fans, the scathing comments of Joan Rivers,
paparazzi ““ “Hey! Look at me and my camera”
““ CBS correspondents and an online webcast of the full
event.
After winning an award they disappear into the Fox Skybox
restaurant, which has been converted into a media center with each
table turned into a computer console. Winning artists can touch up
their make-up before interviews with Entertainment Tonight and
Access Hollywood, the two leading entertainment shows. Jim McHugh
takes their picture with award in hand, which will be instantly
published on grammy.com.
With the help of an escort, the talent then goes through another
gauntlet of proceedings, including separate rooms of print
journalists, wire service photographers, television correspondents
and one-on-one interview booths with MTV and VH1 among others. For
the lucky ones, being back on stage means bypassing the
nonsense.
Even my feet are beginning to ache after this tour of the press
torture chamber. But the feeling of the Grammys being this immense
party certainly alleviates the pressure.
Forget the dinky McDonald’s funhouse! Staples Center is
the best playground ever, with people running around with heavy
equipment and walky-talkies, making last night’s event run
soothly for you, the consumer.
Just remember that the glamour requires the lights and the media
machinery as well.