Sheri Lynn Behr studied photography and digital imaging in New York City and began her career photographing musicians and celebrities in the heyday of rock. Her photographs of musicians were featured in Rolling Stone, CREEM, and most other prominent music publications of the era and are collected, exhibited, and published in historical and current books and magazines. Behr’s work has been exhibited extensively; venues include the Amon Carter Museum of Art, MIT Museum, Center for Creative Photography, Soho Photo, SRO Gallery at Texas Tech, and the Colorado Photographic Arts Center. Her photographs have appeared in publications worldwide, including Harper’s Magazine, People’s Photography (China), Orta Format (Turkey), Toy Camera (Spain), What Will You Remember? and The Boston Globe. She received a Fellowship in Photography from the New Jersey State Council of the Arts, a grant from the Puffin Foundation, and a New York City Artist Corps Grant.

I met Sheri Lynn Behr via Facebook at some point during the past nine years. I don’t recall any particulars, except that we became good friends over chat and later Zoom. Eventually, I was lucky enough to meet her and see her work in person at the Medium Portfolio Review in 2018. That was not a banner year for me life-wise, so I was really grateful to have someone I “knew” to hang out with during the downtime from the actual meetings.

In some ways, it is odd that we bonded as our work is so different than what each other makes. Since I can’t recall how we met, I am unsure what the initial impetus was. Perhaps it was that we both made work that was/is dancing on the boundaries of what is considered “photography.” And does Behr dance when she chooses to! She makes some of the most boundary-pushing (and sometimes button-pushing!) work I know of. I previously wrote about a work of hers for OneTwelve Publications. As I perused her website then, I found my face among the people pictured, totally unbeknownst to me. Talk about being surprised!

Then there is her work photographing some of the most iconic rock musicians working during the late 70s. Starting as a newbie with a love for photo and music, she rapidly navigated her way into the concert photography scene doing press work for a myriad of music publications.

But I am most drawn to her willingness to experiment. From altering images to working with toy consumer polaroids to making imagery that originates on a TV or computer screen, she is always doing something new and then wandering back to traditional photography. It’s inspiring to know someone who is willing to work in so many different ways. I hope you find what Behr has to say as interesting as I do.

DNJ: Tell us a bit about your childhood.

SLB: I was born in The Bronx, in New York City. Our apartment was in one of the Art Deco buildings lining the Grand Concourse. Growing up in the Bronx then was wonderful; my brother and I had a lot of freedom to play outside with our friends.

I went to the Bronx High School of Science. (I wasn’t interested in science but passed the entrance exam, and my local high school didn’t have a great reputation…) I would have preferred Music and Art High School, but I didn’t get in—I tried for music, not art. So, I got to take a class in “Blood and Urine” instead of something fun and arts-related.

My parents were always available to us—my dad had a tuxedo store downstairs, and my mom worked as a librarian’s assistant at the junior high school around the corner. We’d visit my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins every Sunday. I remember my dad having a movie camera and using it to make movies of the family, and my mom would take photos at family events with her Kodak camera (which I still have today).

DNJ: Where did you go to college? What did you major in?

SLB: I attended City College of New York (CCNY.) I majored in Early Childhood Education because I had planned to become a teacher ever since I was in the 6th grade. When they ran out of things to teach me, they sent me to help the kindergarten teacher, and I loved working with little kids. While I had always loved art, I couldn’t paint or draw to save my life, so I never considered studying art. I did take Design I in college. If I took it now, I’d do much better because I could do the work on a computer instead of by hand. I don’t remember if CCNY had a photo department, as I was focused on becoming a teacher.

DNJ: What brought you to photography?

SLB: My mom gave me the Kodak camera I mentioned to take to camp as a young teen. I used it to photograph my friends, and I was hooked.

I also remember taking photos from the car window while it was moving. They were blurry and abstract, and I loved them. I wish I had them now.

Later, I got my first Polaroid camera, a Swinger, which I brought to my summer job as a camp counselor.

When teaching, I made photographs with the kids on class trips or events or used them as writing prompts. At that time, in New York, teachers with Master’s Degrees could take 30 additional credits. Because I was using the camera in the classroom, I decided that’s what I would study. I took classes mainly at The New School and several at the School of Visual Arts.

DNJ: What kind of photographer do you consider yourself?

SLB: I’ve been using a computer to enhance my images since the 1980s, so I sometimes question if that means I am still a photographer. Yet my work always begins with a photograph, so I still consider myself a photographer. But, like with those very early moving car pictures, I love experimenting and pushing what I can do with the medium (and what it can do.)

DNJ: Tell me about the evolution of the different series you have done.

SLB: My work has often shifted back and forth between highly manipulated, computer-enhanced imagery and recognizable documentary-style photographs. I don’t see that changing.

The first work I took seriously was the photos I made at rock concerts in the late 70s. When I stopped shooting live music, I started using a Polaroid SX-70 to appropriate images of musicians from MTV videos. I’d use tools to manipulate the dyes and add markers or paint, all to take the photo ‘beyond recognition.’ I added computer technology to my practice while making that work, which resulted in my manipulating the Polaroids even further on the computer screen.

When I moved to Los Angeles for the first time in the mid-90s, my work became more traditional photographic again as I came to learn about the city through the window of my car. It’s LA! Everyone drives everywhere. But how much of the city do you see while focused on driving? But at a red light, I found that if I concentrated and looked, I did see the city—the streets, the architecture, the people—Los Angeles itself. And that blossomed into a series.

Around the same time, I got a Polaroid i-Zone camera, and my work was experimental again. The i-Zone film was relatively small, so the pictures from “I Am Not Where I Am Now” were scanned, enlarged, and computer-enhanced.

In 2005, I returned to NYC and began teaching at a school in Chinatown. So, I began to work there, photographing the streets and the iconic Lucky Cat I found in almost every shop window. The work in Chinatown actually led to my projects on surveillance and privacy.

More recently, especially during the pandemic, I’ve concentrated on work I could make on a screen again. “Travel By Television” allowed me to photograph other places without leaving my house, which was important then. I then created “Two-Faced/DoubleTalk” in reaction to the recent political era we’ve been living through here in America. I also made a series, “Life During Zoomtime,” where I created grids of digitally enhanced screenshots from different Zoom-based events. Using the computer to manipulate the screenshots, I was reimagining what the Zoom experience could be.

DNJ: Tell us about your process: When and where do you work? Do you come to the work with a fully formed idea, or do you improvise in the making?

SLB: I’m always taking pictures. I currently have 13,757 photos on my iPhone alone, and I know their numbers will increase greatly before this article is published.

Sometimes, my work comes from what I’ve been doing when I realize I’ve unknowingly explored a subject. Other times, I know what I will work on before I start. I love being open to both working methods, meaning to ideas and processes.

DNJ: How did you start with getting access to performers for the 70s rock and roll work?

SLB: Whiletaking those 30 credits of photography classes, I’d take my camera to concerts and use the photos to work on my printing. Around that time, the band Aztec Two-Step opened for Jesse Colin Young in a sold-out performance at Central Park. A friend I knew from college knew the band members and said I should go. Since he was living in St. Louis and unable to get us into the show, he said I should hang out by the press gate and mention his name to the band. I went, and while outside, I spoke to the publicist for RCA Records. When he saw my camera, he asked if I had a portfolio. I was starting to put one together for a class, so I said, “Yes.” He suggested I make an appointment to show it to him. And then he let us into the show!

I finished the portfolio, made the appointment, and landed my first official press photo pass at a Jefferson Starship concert. I photographed that show from the stage, backstage, and at the after-party. I licensed my first picture from that concert, and not long after that, I got my first paid assignment.

I did this for about 6-7 years while still teaching, and then things in the music industry started to change in ways that affected photographers. Some of my favorite venues closed, and the new ones would start the headliner after midnight, which didn’t work with my day job. Bands were starting to limit photographers to covering only the first three songs or even insisting on reviewing the photos before we could send them out to magazines. I thought performances got more exciting as the night went on; who wants to stop after only three songs? I realized it was time to move on.

DNJ: What is your favorite story behind photographing a specific person or band?

SLB: I had a press photo pass for a Rolling Stones show at the Palladium in New York, a much smaller venue than the stadiums where they usually played. It was also one of my favorite places to work. But we were told we could only photograph the first three songs, which was much less common then. We were given tickets to sit down in the back after work. I was not pleased, but as I started to walk to the back, a young man with an aisle seat near the stage asked me if I wanted to share his seat. Of course, I did because then I could photograph the whole show. And I did! Recently, he sent me a message via LinkedIn. He found a copy of the ‘thank you’ print of Mick Jagger I sent him after that show; it had my name on the back, and he reached out. That was unexpected! I also sent that same image of Mick Jagger to one of the backstage staff at the Palladium because the staff was always so helpful when I was working. The person recently found me on Facebook and got in touch. I wonder if there are any more of those prints out there and if I’ll hear from more of the people I met during that time.

Can you share your approach to bringing out the emotion and personality of the people you photograph?

SLB: Usually, I’m the fly on the wall, and I choose my moment rather than doing anything to affect the people I photograph. But when I was hired to do the backstage group shots of bands with the record company executives, I needed to get everyone’s attention. I’d count “One, two, three, say F K.” They usually all looked at me then, and I’d get the picture.

DNJ: How did you get interested in surveillance, and what has sustained it?

SLB: In 2005, I got a job teaching in Chinatown in New York, and I would take pictures on the street before and after school. When I raised my camera, people often turned away—they didn’t want their picture taken. So, as they passed, I started photographing their reflections in the store windows. I wondered if it would be the same in other places. I photographed people through glass store windows in cities around the country and the UK, catching them as they realized a stranger was taking their picture. That ultimately became a project I called “NoSafeDistance.” Reactions were varied. Some turned away, but others posed for me as if they were having their paparazzi moment.

But while I was making these pictures, I realized I was also being photographed by the surveillance cameras that seemed to be everywhere when I looked up. So, I began photographing the cameras, too. I continued to explore other ways to work with the topic, resulting in projects on the subject. The first five make up my book, “Be Seeing You.”

While I am not currently creating new work about surveillance, I still photograph the cameras I see in the landscape.

What do you want viewers of your work to take away from it?

SLB: With the surveillance work, I am trying to show how prevalent surveillance is and the extent to which most of us are unaware of it. I want to raise awareness. People tell me, “I don’t care; I’m not doing anything wrong.” But who decides what’s ‘wrong’? I’m always glad when someone who’s seen the work comes back to me later and says, “Wow! After seeing your work, I now see those cameras everywhere!”

Surveillance is not always accurate, especially with women and people of color. The ACLU published an article in 2018 that said Amazon’s facial recognition software falsely matched 28 members of Congress with mugshots. Also, misuse of this type of technology is real, especially in our current political climate.

Overall, I learned early on that people bring their own experiences when they look at photographs and might see something entirely different from what I intended. And that’s fine with me.

DNJ: Will changing your residence from NYC to LA change your work, and if so, how?

SLB: I’m still finding my way again in LA. I missed the California light; I wonder how it will influence the photographs I make here. I was just given a gift of a Polaroid camera from the 1980s in perfect condition. It uses readily available 600 film, so we’ll see where that takes me. LA light and a Polaroid camera—sounds like an ideal match.

Thank you so much, Sheri, for giving us your time and insight into your career and work practice. I hope that FRAMES readers have enjoyed learning about Sheri and her work. If you are within driving distance of The Griffin Museum of Photography in Winchester, MA, her series And You Were There, Too is on exhibit through October 27th.

SHERI LYNN BEHR

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