Ringo promotes Help!

November 6, 2007
 

Ralph Gibson in Hollywood

 

August 24, 1966

The Hollywood Capitol Records press conference in 1966 has to be one of the most photographed press conferences of the Beatles career.    Here are some photographs taken by freelance photographer Ralph Gibson.   These are all new to me.  

I sneaked one in for Mark to enjoy!   

The conference at the tower

 

Revolver press conference

 

The thinking man

 August 24, 1966 -- Capitol Records Tower press conference 

The man from U.N.C.L.E.

 

The Beatles with actor Robert Vaughn on August 24, 1966, during the press conference at the Capitol Records Tower in Los Angeles.  

(Info for all those out there that always want to tell us when and where photos were taken.  Hahaha!)

Tony Barrow leads the press conference

 

Peace and Love 2019

Another installment of Girls that met the Beatles from Datebook

All photos taken by Vicki Hessel 

Fans that Got to Meet the Beatles (Los Angeles)

By Vicki Hessel

Los Angeles, California:  Even standing there among the photographers in the crowded room on the first floor of the Capitol Records building, I didn’t believe it.  I wasn’t quite sure why I was there, but it just couldn’t be for a Beatles press conference!  I didn’t even feel excited, just tense.

But there was Tony Barrow saying, “The Beatles are on their way.  We’ll have all the photographers come up along the front here for five minutes of still photos.  Then, after the questions, we’ll ask you all to leave so the television equipment can be set up.” 

Surrounded by professionals with their complex cameras and equipment, I lifted my little “Flashfun” with a bulb and was ready.  I’d moved pretty close to the front of the room.  Being 5’1” often has advantages.

Suddenly there was screaming from an opened side door.  Photographers clicked frantically at whatever their huge bodies were hiding from me.  Being 5’1” doesn’t ALWAYS have advantages.  Then I saw the Beatles – casually dressed, laughing, waving and reaching for ciggies.  I touched the man in front of me.  “I’m short,”  I said against the noise.  “You can shoot right over my head.”   He smiled and helped me squeeze in front of him.  Sardinesville.    I was crushed by shoving bodies and swinging camera equipment.  I managed to snap some pictures over the shoulders.

After a bit, I found myself in front.  The boys were on a small platform with a red drape background.  I clicked, ejected and replaced the flash bulb, rolled the film, and then shot again as the boys grinned, waved, looked this way and that.  Then my twelve pictures were gone, and the photographers were being moved back to the sidelines.  When we were finally contained behind a sawhorse, I found I was still in front, crushed against a very tall photographer who plainly wished nineteen-year-old girl reporters with “flashfun” cameras had never been born (or at least released from their cages).  Sitting about three feet from me was U.N.C.L.E.  Robert Vaughn, and near the boys was Dave of the Byrds. 

The Beatles were seated on their swivel stools.  John swung joyously about on his throughout the conference.  George, wearing a brown suede jacket over a white silk shirt tuck into scuzzy blue jeans sat nearest me…my beloved Paul in white Levis and a grey shirt with black pinstripes, John, in a black jersey shirt and dark-cinnamon colored suit, and Ringo in blue and white striped pants, blue print shirt and white jacket.

During the first few questions, Paul accidentally pulled the cord from his microphone.  Making his “oops” face, he tried to fix it, looking about in embarrassment.  George, the electrician finally leaned over and fixed it.

Q: An English designer has said that miniskirts aren’t popular in America because American woman have ugly legs.

Ringo:  If they don’t’ wear miniskirts, how can you tell if their legs are ugly?

George and produced a coke from somewhere and was drinking it.

Q:  A recent Time magazine article said “Day Tripper” was about a prostitute and “Norwegian Wood” was about a lesbian.  What was your intent?

Paul:  We were just trying to write songs about prostitutes and lesbians, y’know?

Q: do you have much trouble getting around?  Can you go to the movies?

Paul:  In England we can ‘cause we know England.

Ringo:  But when we’re in America, we’re on tour, everything’s advertised, and that’s why everybody knows where we are.

The others turned in mock surprise, John slapped his legs and exclaimed in one of his many voices, “Oh!  Is that why everyone knows where we are?”

Q: John, did you meet Cass of the Mamas and Papas?

John:  Yes.  She’s great.  I’ m seeing her some nights.

Q:  What is your most exciting or disappointing experience?

George:  I think Manila was the most disappointing.

Q:  I’d like to address this next question to George.

John:  Yeah, George what’s your new address?

Q:  You recently made a statement about coming to America to be beaten up…

George:  Oh, that was after Manila and someone said, “What are you going to do now?” and I said, “We’re going to rest up before we go get beaten up by the Americans.”  By beaten up, I meant…

John:  jostled

George:  Yeah, jostled.

Paul:  Anyway, we aren’t beaten up by fans.

George:  Yeah.  There’s been a lot said about fans.  All the ones we lost we really don’t mind.  If they can’t make up their minds, who needs ‘em?

Q:  About those Beatles bonfires…

John:  We missed ‘em.

One of the adult newsmen, irritated by the number of young girl reporter present, asked John if they were always so blessed by “would be” reporters.

John:  You can’t always tell the would-bes from the real ones.

It ended too soon and people started leaving as the TV equipment was readied.  Photographers were free to take more pictures.  I didn’t have any film left, but I went forward anyway.  After a moment, I found myself in front of the Fab Four and still unable to believe it.  I waited until Paul had finished speaking to a man, then I called, “Paul!”  And held out my hand, unable to say “can I shake your hand?”

He stared at me for a second and then a smile burst across his face and he was leaning down toward me.  His hand, strong and wonderful caught mine and shook it vigorously and my favorite face was looking at me as it grinned and said, “How do you do?  Glad to meecha!”  I had no answer ready and was unable to say a thing.  I hoped desperately that  I was smiling back at him but he seemed to understand.  Then he stepped back with the others.

Still feeling like an embarrassed idiot, I glanced to my left at the small table before George’s microphone.  There stood his half-empty Coke bottle.  I fought a mental battle and decided:  Yes, I was silly enough to want the bottle as a souvenir.  But I couldn’t just walk off with it.  I’d have hated for George to see me leaving with it, especially if he were still thirsty.

“George!”  I called.  He looked my way.   “Can I have your Coke?”  He shrugged and nodded, saying, “Yeah sure.”  I captured my prize and left the stuffy room feeling very happy.

I guess what impressed me the most was that they were so much nicer than I’d expected them to be.  They weren’t sarcastic or irritable, even when asked the most stupid questions.  They really seemed to be enjoying themselves.  They were friendly, polite, pleasant, bouncy, and funny, willing to follow the photographers’ zaniest suggestions.

John’s face looking learner; he seemed to be the most alert, answering most of the question quickly, often supplemented by a remark by Paul.  George was very casual and thoughtful and smoked a lot; he seemed to be the most concerned about the Manila flap.  Ringo, sweet and cuddly, smiled a lot and was rather quiet.  Paul was a clown, lively but innocent looking with his lazy eyes and lightning wit.

Their best treatment was for their fans, the girls who had managed somehow to get there, and who wanted to shake hands or get an autograph or collect a Coke bottle.  That famous Coke bottle?  Of course, I still have it.  It’ll make the most precious pop-art vase in all California.

Revolver snaps

Photo shoot in Hollywood

Sit down and talk

Crash Landings for the Super Starr

I found this story in a copy of " the new Beatles fan club" newsletter.    It was taken from the February 1975 issue of 'Teen magazine. 

Crash Landing for the Super Starr

‘Teen February 1975

Mrs. Starkey’s son, Richard was in a peeve – I swear he all but pouted.  Now, it’s not the most unusual occurrence in the world to see a star in a petulant huff.   What fun is there after all, in being famous if one can’t publicly drum one’s little heels on the floor in order to stand the world to attention?

But from Richard Starkey, possibly better-known as Ringo Starr, this was odd behavior indeed.

I mean, isn’t his image that of being the jolliest in the land?  The another-for-peace ex-Beatle?  Naïve of us to assume that image and reality are all of a piece.

Oh and it all started out as a splendidly silly Hollywood happening.  In order to publicize his new album, “Good Night Vienna” Ringo was, we were informed, going to have his effigy placed atop the Capitol Tower (Capitol’s the company that distributes his records) along with that of his favorite science fiction character, Gort the robot, and a spaceship.  Well, fun, fun, fun.  Except it didn’t quite work out that way.  Here’s what, in fact, transpired.

We arrived as we’d been bidden, at the Tower at about midday of a fine California Saturday and congregated in one of the studios where sandwiches could be scoffed and Ringo’s album blasted from some speakers.  “Ringo will be arriving in a few minutes,” said one flunkey in the awed tones one should reserve for the Second Coming.  “He will answer questions for 20 minutes and then leave.”  Okay, in a few minutes Ringo did indeed arrive, looking – let it be said – like an English rocker straight out of good old ’64.   Hair greased back in a pompadour, dark shades, a general air of sulky insouciance.

Sulky, as it turned out, was the motif for the day.  Still, he was pleasant enough as he stepped up on the dais sporting his “beware.  I’m manic depressive” button.  But wouldn’t you know, the very first question as a zinger?

A girl from a TV station, desperately earnest (you could tell she was earnest by the way she hauled her eyebrows together) wondered aloud, “Isn’t this all a bunch of hype” or slighting words to that effect. 

Now, come on.  Agreed, agreed, it’s not the most tactful question in the world.  It’s perhaps somewhat on the level of attending a party, stuffing your face on the grub, drinking the booze then challenging your hostess, “Just who’re you trying to impress?”

But still.   Maybe Ringo’s response was, shall we say, the teeniest bit overdone.  Like, he glared.  (Ringo glare? You ask astonished.  Ringo glared).  In very prickly tones he ticked off the reporter to the effect that it was all just a party, where the heck was the hype, and if she didn’t like it…

She was an irritating reporter, it’s true, but she sure had the courage of her convictions.  She persisted.  What was the point, she asked, of spending all this money, time, media stroking simply to promote an album?

Ringo got angrier.  Even quite insulting.  By now we were firmly on the side of the questioner, mainly because the sycophants that cluster around stars had decided to display their solidarity and were urging him on with all manner of nonsense rah-rah-rah’s.

One man, with an actual sob in his voice, even ventured to say how incredibly honored we all felt (speak for yourself, we muttered) at the fact that Ringo was actually standing before us that day.

The pits.  He’s talking about a drummer in a one-time great, but now de-funct, rock band who can sing other people’s songs okay but not terrific, and he’s got a sob in his throat, yet.  Has the world gone totally crazed, we wondered?  Because he wasn’t alone in his worship.    No way.  Adults long past, one assumes, the first blush of adolescence actually cheered his speech.  There are times one’s ashamed to be a so-called grownup.

More questions followed:  had he and his wife, Maureen split?  Well, not exactly.  But she was in England with their three children and he was in Los Angeles with and we quote “a lady who takes good care of me.”  Howzzat for tasteful?  To which other Beatle was he closest?  John.  Would he settle in the U.S.?  Not really, because although the tax situation is pretty grim in Britain right now, it was his home.  And there were things that money couldn’t buy.

He was wearing an earring.  Some clod wondered what was its significance.  We can’t blame his at this point for getting tetchy, because it was truly a silly question.  And tetchy is precisely what he got.

“Why does everything have to have significance?”  he huffed.   “I mean, it’s an earring, that’s all.  What’s the significance of this jacket?  It’s a jacket.”  Did the manic-depressive mean anything, asked one reporter taking his life in his hands.  “Yes” admitted our star.  “It means I’m manic-depressive.”  Why did he call his album “Goodnight Vienna?  “It’s the name of a song John Lennon wrote for the album, plus it’s the name of an old song Ringo likes, plus it’s the way the people in the north of England have of saying that they’re about to split.  “and,” he informed us, “after you finish an album, that just how you feel.  Like you want to take a trip to Mars just to get away.”

Then he bade us all a “Goodnight Vienna” and left.

Later, we were told, his effigy was indeed hoisted to the top of the Capitol Tower.  He and buddy Harry Nilsson then retreated to an executive’s office and toasted each other in brandy.