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To the Editor:

I photographed Harry Chapin numerous times on Long Island, New York, throughout the 1970s. But a concert from March of 1974 at the annual Folk Festival at Nassau Community College in Garden City, New York, was in one of the larger venues (in an old, unused aircraft hangar), and best lit, in a photography sense.

I made my way out of the seating area to go up front with my camera, locating the best position with a three-quarter angle of Harry, who was seated on a stool.

Initially, I was the first photographer up there, but not for long. When it started to be a bit photographer-congested up there, I abandoned that spot and found a better position completely to myself, offering dramatic results — a spot 90 degrees to Chapin's left, on the complete side of the stage.

A tight spotlight ringed Harry's hair and "made" a number of my pictures. That night, I shot three rolls of Tri-X film (rated at 1600 ASA) through my Minolta SRT101 camera, utilizing a 135mm f/1.8 telephoto lens, my workhorse lens for low-light use.

These photographs are my best of that concert, and just about the best I was ever able to take of Harry.

I've always been a Harry Chapin fan. I remember hearing "Taxi" the first time on the radio. My God, it blew me away. (To this day, a more perfect story song has not been written.) I told my girlfriend about this song I had just heard on the radio by some guy named Chapin...and she said, "Really? Then let's go see him. He's playing next week at 'My Father's Place.'" (That was a popular local wine and cheese venue in Roslyn on Long Island, now defunct). I've been hooked ever since.

As good as Harry was on record, he really shone in a live concert setting. If a fan of his never got to see him in concert, they truly never knew what they missed. He connected with an audience like no one else could. In concert he made his songs, his stories, come alive with an intensity -- you had no choice, you had to sit and be mesmerized.

Couple that with the fact that Harry never sang to you. He sang for you. He sang with you. It's almost as if, when seeing Harry sitting on his stool, in-between songs, with his Ovation or Martin in his lap, as he surveyed the crowd, you could almost expect him to exclaim out loud, "Damn! Who the hell is playing here tonight? Let me finish up quickly and jump down off this stage and watch the show with you!"

I honestly don't think he ever really knew his impact on his fans. Maybe just as well.

That's probably what made his fans and him bond so tightly. He wasn't naive. He just didn't place that much importance on the status of his celebrity. Yeah, Harry cared about the value of his songs having something to say, but what's the point of having something to say if no one's going to listen? Harry never had that problem.

Robert Berkowitz
Hicksville, NY
RSBImageWorks@aol.com

Editor's Note: In the spirit of Harry's "one night for me, one night for the other guy" legacy, Robert Berkowitz has agreed to sell framed and unframed copies of his photographs and donate 50-percent of the proceeds to World Hunger Year. Please contact Mr. Berkowitz by email to inquire.

Watch for the Next Issue of Circle! on March 7