RIP Jim Marshall

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cash

“If someone doesn’t want me to shoot them, fine, fuck ‘em,” he says. “But if they do, there can’t be any restrictions.”

RS Story

There Are 18 Comments On This Article.

  1. Another Legend gone; came with camera in hand, kicked ass and left us in his sleep. Rest In Peace and thanks for the wonderful images you created Jim.
    ~M~

  2. Three Stories of Jim Marshall :

    I met Jim through my late friend Dany Walker around 1979. Dany’s father, George, was Jim’s criminal attorney and handled his weapon assault charges. When Jim did his work-furlough program for photographer Dennis Grey, (assist during the day and in jail at night) Dany moved into Jim’s Union Street apartment. This was probably around 1980 or so. I would hang around there a lot and there were lots of parties. It was above the Food Art Store and faced right onto busy Union street. There were these steel filing cabinets in the kitchen all full of Jim’s negatives. I mean ALL of them. We used to rummage through looking at them. It’s so cool nobody took them. They sat there for years.

    I remember once way back in the late 80s when I was going to New York to show portfolios, Jim asked me if would take his work and show it around. I told him that I would represent him in a minute, if he were dead. If you knew Jim, you would understand my reply. He told me to fuck off a few times and then gave me a print. A few months later he photographed me and my friends at my birthday party. I never saw those images
    .
    About seven or eight years ago I was sitting at the bar at the Sunset Marquis Hotel in LA. There were about ten or more of Jim’s photographs framed on the walls. I started talking to the bartender about Jim. The bartender told me that he had been banned from the Hotel for throwing a chair through the window. Literally five minutes later we hear this really load voice yell out from the doorway across the room; “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE MASLOV.” Sure enough it was Jim. Returning to the scene of the crime
    .
    Last July I ran into Jim at at Lulu’s in San Francisco. I took a picture with my iPhone after he bought me a Martini (he frequently bought everyone drinks) . I would always run into him in bars. Many many many times.

  3. I met Jim Marshall in 1975 backstage in Golden Gate Park at a Grateful Dead Concert! I had just arrived in SF to study Photography at the San Francisco Art Institute and heard on the radio Free Concert in the Park.
    After talking my way backstage, I saw this photographer with all these Lecia camera’s around his neck and asked him if I could be his assistant and learn from him. He gave me his phone # and he helped me get my first photo published in Rolling Stone Magazine while still in Art School. He taught me to copyright all my images and to respect the music artist when photographing them. We briefly shared a studio together above his apartment on Union St, until it got too crazy! He was a wild man photographer and famous people where always dropping by to see Jim. He taught me everything about the business of Photography! I would call him anytime when I had a question! He was always willing to help a young photographer! He will be greatly missed!

    • @Chester Simpson and others

      Thank you Norman, Chester, and Manuello, for the poignant and funny personal tales you have shared. I did not have the pleasure of meeting Jim, but it seems evident that he was was a true maverick, and an electrifying force to be reckoned with. I would like to think that there’s a reunion of sorts, going on between Jimi, Coltrane, Janis, and the others … and that they have invited JM along for the ride.

  4. I cant even remember when I
    first met Jim Marshall it was
    either late 80′s or early 90′s. I went on a trip with my old
    photographer buddy Chester Simpson. We flew from Washington DC and
    landed in LA. From there we went to the Santa Monica’s home of Jeff
    Good,
    one of his old SF… art school friends. Jeff
    had an amazing personality and warm puppy eyes that could bullshit his
    way around any place he wanted. He also drove and treated his ’64red
    topless Ford Mustang like it was his girlfriend. The very
    next morning we took off for San Francisco on the red convertible. This
    was a
    trip that on the I-5 should take anybody between 5 or 6 hour and that is
    pushing the gas pedal. That was until Jeff
    did the driving and it took us three hours and a nickel. I didn’t know
    how crazy Jeff was until he gunned that red convertible all the way to
    the
    floor and it went so fast that I didn’t think the wheels were touching
    the hot asphalt. How we didnt get a ticket I dont know but I was praying
    for a trooper to pulled us over since I was chicken shit afraid. I
    don’t
    even think that we had any seat belts on. Does a ’64 Mustang had any?
    At times on some flat stretch across the long California HWY the
    speedometer would top 100 MPH and above and ,only a few times, it
    dipped below 90 MPH. I would yelled at Jeff to lower the speed and he
    would laughed and would look at Chester as saying, “Is your friend for
    real.”We arrived to San Francisco as fast
    as we had left LA and since that trip I cant remember anybody driving
    that reckless & carefree. The few days we visited San Francisco we
    stayed at the home of one of Chester’s old girlfriend.
    With Chester & Jeff I started to meet lots of
    creative and crazy people. Most of those friends were still living at
    the same old place and
    living a lifestyle as if it was still the 60′s PEACE LOVE and
    MARIJUANA. Lots of drugs, smoking, drinking, sex and more
    drinking. I think I was the only one that was sane and dry. They were
    older than me and were all cool and nobody was pushing any weeds into my
    hands. I concluded that the air, the sea breeze and the California
    weather added some craziness into their lives and I love it. One
    night I was sent to a nearby store to get some condons. Went out of the
    door down the stairs and out into the streets and a couple blocks later
    I was inside this mom & pop store and I couldn’t find the right
    words to ask for
    the contraceptive and much less in this crowded and small store. The
    old lady had to asked me a few times if she could
    help me… She thought I was a lost and confuse foreigner and asked me
    if I
    spoke English… Fearfully I muttered “Cummduns.” It was loud enough
    for her to pick it up and she understood then she yelled while pointing
    her finger, like a teacher telling you where to sit “go back and two
    isles on the left!” To
    my surprised back at the house I discovered that
    a girl wanted to sleep with me and that is why my friends send me to
    get the rubber. I thought it was totally insane and I said NO and she
    for sure thought I was crazy or gay. The
    second day the three of us drove around and Chester mentioned that we
    were
    going to visit an old crazy friend who has been shooting rock and roll
    folks longer than anybody else. I asked him, “even longer than Annie L”
    he fired back, “oh Annie used to assist for him.”WE arrived at
    16th street to an old grand Victorian house that years ago may have been
    turned into apartments. Jim Marshall opened
    the door and greeted us with a wide smile. The first thing I notice,
    besides his arresting personality, was
    how crooked his nose was or the way it would fit on a boxer’s face. His
    face was genuinely excited to see Chester and Jeff and right away while
    shaking my hand said, “WTF is this kid?” Somehow Paganelli sounded like
    food to him and he called me Tortellini. We went into his home and it
    was a treasure chest of PURE rock & roll history. Its
    walls were decorated with 11×16 and 16×20 prints. One would have The
    Grateful Dead, the next one Jim Morrison smoking a cigar and looking a
    Marshall’s Leica with an intense look, then you would see a color print

    of Janis Joplin with arms wide open seating atop her 60′s painted style
    psychedelic Porshe with a butterfly flying on the hood towards Janis. I
    would turn around and here is the Man In Black Johnny Cash flipping the
    bird at me, The Beatles are very present too all cheerfully as if saying

    “Come Together.” I looked at an image and thought was a kid goofing off
    in the streets of New York City
    and is a very young Bob Dylan playing as he rolls a car tire. Jimi
    Hendrix is looking at me too as if telling me, “can you dig it.” Here
    they are all in
    intimate engaging ways, real and their
    strong presence is alive. Just bring the boozed, the food, the drugs
    and the
    girls and they will play their music for us… they will play forever.
    From
    the hall we walked into a living room and the walls were also filled
    with iconic faces wishing to be here with Jim Marshall and not where
    else. One room took us to the next one and we ended up sitting at the
    kitchen while Marshall was pouring some scotch and Jack Daniels. For him
    was
    one drink after the next one followed by a full foul mouth and the clock
    was showing 11am. Marshall
    was a pittbull of protecting his images and he new very well how to
    licensed them and understood its powerful value. That day he was suing
    some client who ended up using some of his images which were used the
    “wrong” way. In the contract there was a line saying that the images
    were not going to be crop without the photographer consent and here they
    were quite cropped and Marshall wasn’t happy and wishing he could shoot
    somebody with a gun that actually fires. The drinks had a relaxing
    effect on him and we stayed listening to Jim telling us how some of his
    memorable photos
    were accomplished. There was always a great narrative behind each image.
    How often you get to visit a museum and you hear, “Hi I am Pablo
    Picasso let me tell you how I did my Blue Period.” The sun was getting
    lower and it was
    time to say so long. I left the house with a small collection
    of his photos and the birth of a wonderful & lasting friendship
    with a gigantic character of a man considered by many as the” Father of
    Rock & Roll Photography.”
    Marshall I REALLY MISS YOU… He
    once told me “Tortellini when I died you dont need to cry for me” I
    told him not to worry about it that I was too busy for that.

    Marshall.. oooh Marshall.. I lied.

    Manuello Paganelli
    Los Angeles California

    http://www.facebook.com/pages/edit/?id=302760519537#!/pages/Los-Angeles-CA/Manuello-Paganelli-Photography/302760519537

  5. http://blog.apasf.com/?p=900

    Jim was an APA SF Executive Board Member, was a close friend of many APA members, and was a central character in the Bay Area Photo Community for decades, so we are creating a special section on the Advertising Photographers of America, San Francisco blog to help honor him. Photographer Jock McDonald and Agent Norman Maslov are just two of Jim’s friends who have already contributed.

    If you have any stories, or photos of Jim, or relevant links to share, please email them to info@apasf.com

    Thanks

  6. First Charles Moore and now Jim Marshall. Between the two they documented the sixties like no one else. RIP.

  7. Thank you Marshall for your passion, your love you shared through your pictures. Here’s a small tribute to a great photographer, who took me underwing when I didn’t even know who he was ; You became my eccentric uncle and mentor; helped me create my first big prints, got me backstage to listen to Roy Buchanan; You were a man who loved beauty and flirted with all my tall, blond grrl friends; and held court at your kitchen table; bringing photographers and characters together in spontaneous moments of connections. The love for your life’s work will be a constant inspiration because no matter how crazy it could get, there was always a link back to the joy of making pictures that will carry on like the music of the times….and “Not Fade Away….”

    http://raechel-runningvivalavida.blogspot.com/2010/03/jim-marshall-not-fade-away.html

  8. I had the honor of hearing and experiencing Jim Marshall at the APA event in San Diego a few months ago. He narrated his slide show and had everyone laughing and oohing and ahhing over his iconic images.
    The saying,” They don’t make ‘em like that anymore!” comes to mind.
    A few weeks later at Subtext Gallery up the street, I had a photo in the same group show as Jim, he had donated the Johnny Cash flipping the bird photo to the charity with the proceeds going to the Monarch School which supports education for homeless teens. Pretty gracious of Jim.
    Rest in peace Jim.

  9. I cant even remember when I
    first met Jim Marshall it was
    either late 80′s or early 90′s. I went on a trip with my old
    photographer buddy Chester Simpson. We flew from Washington DC and
    landed in LA. From there we went to the Santa Monica’s home of Jeff
    Good,
    one of his old SF… art school friends. Jeff
    had an amazing personality and warm puppy eyes that could bullshit his
    way around any place he wanted. He also drove and treated his ’64red
    topless Ford Mustang like it was his girlfriend. The very
    next morning we took off for San Francisco on the red convertible. This
    was a
    trip that on the I-5 should take anybody between 5 or 6 hour and that is
    pushing the gas pedal. That was until Jeff
    did the driving and it took us three hours and a nickel. I didn’t know
    how crazy Jeff was until he gunned that red convertible all the way to
    the
    floor and it went so fast that I didn’t think the wheels were touching
    the hot asphalt. How we didnt get a ticket I dont know but I was praying
    for a trooper to pulled us over since I was chicken shit afraid. I
    don’t
    even think that we had any seat belts on. Does a ’64 Mustang had any?
    At times on some flat stretch across the long California HWY the
    speedometer would top 100 MPH and above and ,only a few times, it
    dipped below 90 MPH. I would yelled at Jeff to lower the speed and he
    would laughed and would look at Chester as saying, “Is your friend for
    real.”We arrived to San Francisco as fast
    as we had left LA and since that trip I cant remember anybody driving
    that reckless & carefree. The few days we visited San Francisco we
    stayed at the home of one of Chester’s old girlfriend.
    With Chester & Jeff I started to meet lots of
    creative and crazy people. Most of those friends were still living at
    the same old place and
    living a lifestyle as if it was still the 60′s PEACE LOVE and
    MARIJUANA. Lots of drugs, smoking, drinking, sex and more
    drinking. I think I was the only one that was sane and dry. They were
    older than me and were all cool and nobody was pushing any weeds into my
    hands. I concluded that the air, the sea breeze and the California
    weather added some craziness into their lives and I love it. One
    night I was sent to a nearby store to get some condons. Went out of the
    door down the stairs and out into the streets and a couple blocks later
    I was inside this mom & pop store and I couldn’t find the right
    words to ask for
    the contraceptive and much less in this crowded and small store. The
    old lady had to asked me a few times if she could
    help me… She thought I was a lost and confuse foreigner and asked me
    if I
    spoke English… Fearfully I muttered “Cummduns.” It was loud enough
    for her to pick it up and she understood then she yelled while pointing
    her finger, like a teacher telling you where to sit “go back and two
    isles on the left!” To
    my surprised back at the house I discovered that
    a girl wanted to sleep with me and that is why my friends send me to
    get the rubber. I thought it was totally insane and I said NO and she
    for sure thought I was crazy or gay. The
    second day the three of us drove around and Chester mentioned that we
    were
    going to visit an old crazy friend who has been shooting rock and roll
    folks longer than anybody else. I asked him, “even longer than Annie L”
    he fired back, “oh Annie used to assist for him.”WE arrived at
    16th street to an old grand Victorian house that years ago may have been
    turned into apartments. Jim Marshall opened
    the door and greeted us with a wide smile. The first thing I notice,
    besides his arresting personality, was
    how crooked his nose was or the way it would fit on a boxer’s face. His
    face was genuinely excited to see Chester and Jeff and right away while
    shaking my hand said, “WTF is this kid?” Somehow Paganelli sounded like
    food to him and he called me Tortellini. We went into his home and it
    was a treasure chest of PURE rock & roll history. Its
    walls were decorated with 11×16 and 16×20 prints. One would have The
    Grateful Dead, the next one Jim Morrison smoking a cigar and looking a
    Marshall’s Leica with an intense look, then you would see a color print

    of Janis Joplin with arms wide open seating atop her 60′s painted style
    psychedelic Porshe with a butterfly flying on the hood towards Janis. I
    would turn around and here is the Man In Black Johnny Cash flipping the
    bird at me, The Beatles are very present too all cheerfully as if saying

    “Come Together.” I looked at an image and thought was a kid goofing off
    in the streets of New York City
    and is a very young Bob Dylan playing as he rolls a car tire. Jimi
    Hendrix is looking at me too as if telling me, “can you dig it.” Here
    they are all in
    intimate engaging ways, real and their
    strong presence is alive. Just bring the boozed, the food, the drugs
    and the
    girls and they will play their music for us… they will play forever.
    From
    the hall we walked into a living room and the walls were also filled
    with iconic faces wishing to be here with Jim Marshall and not where
    else. One room took us to the next one and we ended up sitting at the
    kitchen while Marshall was pouring some scotch and Jack Daniels. For him
    was
    one drink after the next one followed by a full foul mouth and the clock
    was showing 11am. Marshall
    was a pittbull of protecting his images and he new very well how to
    licensed them and understood its powerful value. That day he was suing
    some client who ended up using some of his images which were used the
    “wrong” way. In the contract there was a line saying that the images
    were not going to be crop without the photographer consent and here they
    were quite cropped and Marshall wasn’t happy and wishing he could shoot
    somebody with a gun that actually fires. The drinks had a relaxing
    effect on him and we stayed listening to Jim telling us how some of his
    memorable photos
    were accomplished. There was always a great narrative behind each image.
    How often you get to visit a museum and you hear, “Hi I am Pablo
    Picasso let me tell you how I did my Blue Period.” The sun was getting
    lower and it was
    time to say so long. I left the house with a small collection
    of his photos and the birth of a wonderful & lasting friendship
    with a gigantic character of a man considered by many as the” Father of
    Rock & Roll Photography.”
    Marshall I REALLY MISS YOU… He
    once told me “Tortellini when I died you dont need to cry for me” I
    told him not to worry about it that I was too busy for that.

    Marshall.. oooh Marshall.. I lied.

    Manuello Paganelli
    Los Angeles California

    http://www.facebook.com/pages/edit/?id=302760519537#!/pages/Los-Angeles-CA/Manuello-Paganelli-Photography/302760519537