Portfolio Review: Alfred Wertheimer Shares Photographs of Elvis From His New Book

Photographer Alfred Wertheimer followed Elvis around with a camera before the King of Rock'n'Roll became famous and one of the most iconic figures in the history of music. After receiving an assignment from Anne Fulchino at RCA Records in 1956, Wertheimer began a journey with Elvis that took place in trains, in recording studios, on the stages of television shows, and on the streets.

When Fulchino called Wertheimer up for the job, picking him out of six photographs, he said, "Elvis who?" She replied, "Elvis Presley. We just signed him from Sun Records about two months ago, and I have nothing in my file. And I need some good pictures for back of album jackets and press..." The rest is history. In the March 2013 Taschen release of Alfred Wertheimer. Elvis and the Birth of Rock and Roll, Alfred has compiled a selection of the 3,000+ images he took of Elvis, many of which show him at his most candid, vulnerable, and meditative moments.

In this Portfolio Review, Alfred talks the stories behind 10 individual images from the book. One of them marks the last time he saw Elvis. Alfred says,

It's a sad truth, but thankfully all the stories and images have been put together so beautifully. Buy Taschen's Alfred Wertheimer. Elvis and the Birth of Rock and Roll here, and look forward to Elvis at Stax: Deluxe Edition, which will be released on August 6, 2013.

Portfolio Review: Alfred Wertheimer Shares Photographs of Elvis From His New Book

(All images copyright 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"We're at The Mosque Theater in Richmond, VA. The date is June 30, 1956, and it's the first of two Elvis Presley shows that Colonel Parker had booked. He basically booked the theater. What they do is, they pay a rental to the town of Richmond for the theater, because it was originally built by the Shriners, and then they went bankrupt somewhere in the 1920s, and the city took over the building. So if you wanted to have a show at The Mosque, you would book it for the day, put your person in the box office, and do your own advertising...and that's exactly what the Colonel did. He booked two shows, entitled 'The Elvis Presley Show,' and then he had 12 acts. Elvis would come on, maybe the last 15 minutes, and close the show after the other performers had done their thing. And the Colonel was good enough to get commissions on all 12 acts, including Elvis."

"So he had his first show. It started at around 5 o'clock, but [at] 7 o'clock, the show was finished. And then the next show began at 8, and it went until 10 o'clock. And then Elvis left the building. There was a change of clothing between the first show and the second show. There was a rather well-known kiss picture of mine that was taken backstage at that theater after the show began, and it was only when the kids started to chant, 'We want Elvis, we want Elvis!' that he finished his act backstage and actually got on the stage and performed. But that's where it was. It was in Richmond, VA. Now, today, they're changing the name of the theater. They're in the process of renovating and changing it to the 'Landmark Theater.' I got a call from the PR lady of the Landmark Operations saying that's probably the most famous picture that was ever photographed in their theater. I'm talking about the kiss though—not Kneeling at the Mosque."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"Well, that took place here at what was called, at that time, 'CVS Stage 50.' It took place at what would be called a theater here on Broadway, in the '50s. Today, that theater is known as the Letterman Theater. Dave Letterman presents his show out of that same theater. This is a theater that was originally a theatrical stage/performance type of establishment. And then when TV came along in the 1950s, they had to remove part of the orchestra and build the stage another 20 feet or more in order to allow the TV cameras to roll back, because they needed the basic stage for orchestras and performers, but they didn't have enough room for the TV cameras, which had to be on the same level. So they would gut maybe 10 or 15 rows of seats, or even half the orchestra area, and then they would use it for television studios. This was a CBS television studio that, at the time, hosted a show called, 'Stage Show.' It was produced by Jackie Gleason of 'The Honeymooners.' It had guest hosts, The Dorsey Brothers."

"Tommy Dorsey was a very famous band leader in the '30s and '40s. His brother, Jimmy Dorsey, who played the saxophone, was also an orchestra conductor. Tommy played the trombone, and Jimmy played the saxophone. Look him up. This was in the era of the big band, and Elvis got his start on TV from being booked by Jackie Gleason through the William Morris Agency for two performances. One was in January of 1956, and the other one was in early February of 1956. Elvis at the time had just turned 21. He hadn't even had a gold record yet. He was only really well-known in the South, connected to the Hanksville Jamboree. And now he was performing, and his job was to sing two songs. It took him about six minutes, and that was it. And then the reaction was such that they didn't know what to make of him. But the reaction was explosive, especially among the young teenagers. Jackie Gleason, in his wisdom, decided to book him for another four performances. And that was sort of the beginning of Elvis' career."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"He couldn't figure out why his motorcycle wouldn't start. You see, Elvis always expected someone to take care of things while he was out making a living for the family. He had bought that motorcycle. There were just 90 miles on it, and he had just finished a 27-hour train trip and was now at 1034 Audubon Drive. His father stopped working for other people and was supposed to take care of the house, the swimming pool, the motorcycle, and so on. And they couldn't figure out why the motorcycle wouldn't begin until they opened the cap of the tank. And then they realized there was no gas in the tank. But the girls liked it when the motorcycle wouldn't start. Because while we couldn't drive around the block, he kept giving autographs, and that's what they were more interested in, getting more autographs from Elvis."

"And it's not posed. Everybody says, 'Well, that's gotta be a posed picture,' but it isn't. I mean, none of my pictures are posed, except two. And that's only because Elvis wanted them posed-he's sitting on a train with a panda, a 4-foot stuffed panda on his lap. And out of boredom, he's peeking out over the shoulder of the panda, and he's basically saying, 'Come on, Al. Take my picture,' so I let him pose it. But all of the other 2,500 photographs that I took are not posed. That was my style. I let people be themselves, and I would work around that restriction. And that is perhaps why they held up so well, because everything else that Elvis did was posed by some director, either a TV director, a movie director, an A&R man in a studio, and even the newspaper photographers. They'd say, 'Can you look to the right? Can you look to the left? Can you do this one more time?' But that was not my style. My style was to capture things the way they were and work around it with the available light for the most part, very, very little strobe unit or flash. As a matter fact, 90 percent of the time, he didn't even know I was taking photographs."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"Yeah, this is one of my very favorite shots. It's called Gentlemen, What Would You Like? It's Junior Smith, Elvis' cousin and bodyguard from his mother's side, and Elvis at the Jefferson Hotel in Richmond, VA. Again, it's on the June 30, 1956. They had just gotten there by train from New York. And this was the time of 'The Elvis Presley Show.' When they got to the hotel, they went to the dining room, and ordered something to eat. So the waitress is taking his order, and what did he order? He ordered eggs, sunny side up, with bacon and french fries. And for dessert, he had half a cantaloupe with vanilla ice cream. And 15 minutes later, he had his hands around the waitress' waist. She had a big smile on her face."

"In the meantime, Grumpy, his cousin, still looked grumpy. He was very dedicated to Elvis. Now, that's not his real name, Grumpy. They kept calling him 'Junior Smith,' but he had been in Korea and got a discharge from the army. Now, I don't know what kind of discharge he got, whether it was honorable or dishonorable, but he was a weird guy. He was a spooky guy, but he loved Elvis and took good care of him."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"This was at 'The Steve Allen Show' on July 1, 1956. Steve was a comedian, pianist, and songwriter. He had a Sunday night show opposite a guy called Ed Sullivan, and Ed Sullivan always had Sunday night wrapped up. Ed wasn't gonna have Elvis on his family TV show, because he considered Elvis a sleaze for moving around too much and being lewd. And then later on, when he was trounced in the ratings by Steve, because of the Elvis appearance, who only had his fourth show, he booked Elvis for three performances for $50,000, which was more than he paid anybody else up to that point. So it's just a portrait, a color portrait."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"The guy at the other end of the gang plank, who's sort of shouting at somebody, he's a public information officer for the U.S. army, and he's trying to keep things candid. So while Elvis is being treated like every other soldier after having his hair clipped, and after they put recruiting posters behind him, he's also carrying on with interviews in front of 250 media people on the day he was leaving from the Brooklyn Port of Embarkation...He and 6,000 other troopers (military guys), dependent Americans, some kids and wives, etc., are on the USS Randall heading to Germany for occupation."

"Of course, it looks as if he's being treated no different from any other G.I., but of course, that wasn't true. It was handled in a special way. They were now using him. He was no longer the bad boy; he had his hair cut short, and his sideburns were clipped off. He was in his class A uniform, and they had four or five other soldiers standing by with their duffel bags, which means their belongings were inside, just so he could look like he's not alone. When he finished with the microphone and answering all the questions, he would go on line, surrounded by these soldiers who were waiting, and he would cross the gang plank from the shore to the ship. And of course, there's always a photographer that says, 'Could we try that one more time?' So they all turn around and hit each other in the head with a duffel bag, and they have to be very careful because it's a narrow gang plank that's six stories above the water it's on...almost at the top deck. In the meantime, down at the bottom at about the second level, they keep on piling into the ship, you know, by the hundreds."

"So they come up to the boat one more time, and they try it a second time. Only this time, he doesn't come up anymore. He stays on the boat and comes to Bremerhaven in Germany. A year later, he meets Priscilla Presley, and the rest is history."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"Elvis had a way of relaxing between one song and another song. This took place on July 2, 1956, and up until that point, he only had two gold records. This was going to become his third and fourth gold record. He recorded three songs that day. 'Don't Be Cruel,' 'Hound Dog,' and 'Any Way You Want Me.' 'Any Way You Want Me' never made it past number six, but 'Hound Dog' and 'Don't Be Cruel' became number ones. At one time, the record, the 45 RPM record, originally came out as 'You Ain't Nothin But a Hound Dog,' and 'Don't Be Cruel' was the back up, the B-side. And then, they reversed it. They made 'Don't Be Cruel' as the A-side and 'Hound Dog' as the B-side. In both cases, they went to number one. Those were his third and fourth gold records. They had just finished one of those records."

"He was making a joke with The Jordanaires, which was his back-up singing group, and in the background, you have Scotty Moore, his guitarist, and DJ Fontana, his drummer, horsing around. This is taking place at the RCA Victor Studios on 24th Street here in Manhattan, between Third Avenue and Madison Avenue. I think that studio is now part of The Baruch College. It's no longer part of RCA."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"Picture the following: we had just been on a very long train trip from New York to Memphis. He was supposed to perform at Russwood Park that evening. It's July 4, 1956. He had finished his recording session successfully. He had two performances at the Mosque Theater. We were coming to the end of a 27-hour train trip, which involved changing the train in Chattanooga, otherwise he would've wound up in Florida. He didn't wanna go into Memphis like everybody else. It was a big surprise to me that he wanted to get off the train. So it seems that Colonel Tom Parker had arranged with the conductor to call the motormen to stop the train for about 15 seconds so Elvis could hop off with what he was carrying underneath his arm (which were quick acetate cuts of his recent recordings at the RCA Studio that were given to him by the engineer or the A&R man at RCA). These would only last for about 50 plays-it was a temporary kind of thing, but it would allow you to hear what you did."

"He's walking down this grassy mow to the sidewalk, he's waving to us, and we're passing this sign. The train is starting up again. We're going at about one or two miles an hour, and we come to the sign called 'White.' It's actually called 'White Station.' It's a place that's physically called 'White Station.' It has nothing to do with white people. And who does he meet? He meets a black woman, who points in a direction saying, 'Audobon Drive is down that way,' because Elvis wasn't quite sure where his home was. Then we leave him and go into Memphis Station, take the musical instruments, and lug them out of there. Elvis couldn't be bothered with any of that. I'm snapping away trying to figure out what's going on, and Chris Murray, the producer who helped me put the book together, claims that it was the last time Elvis ever had the chance to walk on the street all by himself, not a care in the world except to get to his house. There were no incidents. After that, it was always bodyguards and arrangements and stuff. In the book, it's a series of about five or six photographs."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"He was buying some chicken wings or chicken legs. It's in Alabama. It's Lunchtime at Sheffield, Alabama. Now, once he changed trains from New York heading south, he got off at Chattanooga. And you had to take a train at Chattanooga, TN to go all the way to Memphis in those days. It took the better part of almost 10 hours to get there. So he's ordering some chicken wings, snow cones, and some container of milk, and it's being paid for by his gopher cousin/friend/bodyguard, Junior Smith, because Elvis was not trusted with any money; he'd lose it and forget where he put it. Anne Fulchino, who booked me for this original assignment, claims that they gave Elvis $500 once, petty cash, and he promptly misplaced it. So from then on, they only gave it to Junior Smith, and Elvis only had to be Elvis Presley. He didn't have to worry about taking care of such minor details as paying for his lunch."

"If you look at the woman, she's selling these cigarettes with a round circle on it, which were Lucky Strike cigarettes. So you waited in line like everybody, and you ordered what you wanted, and you ate your lunch on the train."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)

"Somehow that mysterious panda got on the train with us. I don't know who planted it, whether it was given to Elvis by a fan in New York or not, because it appeared almost immediately when we were heading south. I didn't see it at Pennsylvania Station when we got on so, I don't know if Colonel Tom Parker bought that panda and figured some dumb photographer's going to use it as a prop and get a whole lot of mileage of photographs of Elvis with it, or whether it was given to him by a fan. But anyway, it became a character that traveled with us. We were using it as a pillow."

"When Elvis had nothing to do, he would sit it up, and he would be opposite it. He would even have it on his lap. And then he used it once to create a mystery. He picked up the panda during a ride from Chattanooga to Memphis, and he wouldn't tell anybody what he was doing, but he looked kind of silly with a four-foot panda on his left hip, walking down the center of a public train. All the other adults, who were not part of his entourage figured, 'What is this kid up to? I mean, who is he anyway? And what is he trying to say?' So he's walking down the center aisle of the train, and he's going to the other end." "In the meantime, I'm picking up one of my cameras, and I'm shooting image, image, image-not many, maybe four or five images-from one end of the train to the other. He finally gets to the other end of the train, on the other end of the car, and he's at a water fountain. He takes one of these paper cups and folds it with his hand, but he refuses to put the panda down. I figure he's gonna spill the water all over the floor, but then of course I was a pessimist. So I'm taking a snap at a time, trying to get some decent composition, but he wouldn't tell me what he's doing. There was always something that he was up to."

"He's walking back to where he came from, and halfway down the car, he makes a sharp left turn, and now he's facing two teenage girls. He's saying, 'Are you coming to my concert tonight?' And they look him straight in the face and say, 'Well, who are you?' And he says, 'I'm Elvis Presley.' And they say, 'Well, how do we know that?' And now, he's pointing at me, he's using me as a foil, and he's saying, 'You see that photographer over there?' I'm standing on the seat, and I was always taught never to stand on seat cushions in public trains, but I ignore that when I'm doing assignments. I'm photographing one little snap at a time, and he says, 'You see that photographer? You think he'd be taking pictures of me if I wasn't Elvis Presley?' Well, that seemed to satisfy the girls, so he continued his conversation. It's a nice story. So I went back and sat next to the colonel, who was now half asleep in the front of that car. About five minutes later, Elvis joined us. I don't know whether these girls ever appeared at Russwood Park that night with the other 14,000 fans."

"You see, he really needed recognition. I remember once he asked for a pen. So I gave him my pen, and he picks up this fan magazine. It was at the coffee shop of the Chattanooga train station, and there were two girls behind the counter there. And he saw a picture of himself in this magazine, and he signed it -he autographed it. He goes over to the two girls, who are basically behind the counter. They're taking care of selling candy, magazines, and such. He's saying, 'Here.' They're looking at it, and they're saying, 'Well, what do you want? You wanna buy the magazine?' He looks at me sort of sheepishly and says, 'No this is for you.' And they say, 'Well, why?' He'd reply, 'Well, look at it! It's autographed!' So he was so proud of the idea that he autographed a picture of himself, and yet they didn't recognize him. He was at that point, he was going through the transition of being recognized by the public. So that was it. That's the story."

(Copyright: 2013 Alfred Wertheimer/Courtesy TASCHEN)