I was on the periphery of everyone but my parents wouldn’t let me go to art college and I ended up working for an insurance broker in the City. It wasn’t what I wanted to do. I started going to see bands at the Hammersmith Odeon and saw David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust. One night, I smuggled in a cheap Russian camera to watch Paul McCartney and Wings do their soundcheck. Queen were the support act, so I took a picture of them playing and managed to sell it. It was my first photo sale. Freddy was so hard to photograph when he was moving: he would be in that pose for a microsecond I taught myself but I couldn’t get a photo pass without a portfolio and I couldn’t get a portfolio without a photo pass. Punk came at the right time: suddenly I had access to bands for 75p, and those were the pictures the music papers wanted. Once my name started appearing in the NME, I was able to flex more. A photographer I had met at a Damned concert shared a house with Phil Lynott from Thin Lizzy. I was hanging out and one day Phil said they were going to Scandinavia. I said, “Take me along?” that’s how I became a tour photographer. After Thin Lizzy, I covered Bowie, the Stones, the Bee Gees and Neil Diamond. Duran Duran in America was like Beatlemania. Bowie was very friendly, down to earth and funny. I spent two years with him almost every day. Being with the Stones was incredible. Who wouldn’t want to get paid to fly around the world with a rock band on their private jet? I toured Queen on their 1986 Magic Tour, which no one knew would be their last. They were so big by then. I wanted to tour with them because it was such a great show and Freddy was a once in a lifetime showman. I think this is one of the few shots that exemplify him. That shape he throws – no one else ever did. It looks like a bent toy. There is also the way he holds the microphone, one of his trademarks. It was so hard to photograph when it was moving: it would be in that pose for a microsecond, because it would spin. I only had 36 images on a roll, and the film was very expensive, so I couldn’t take shot after shot. Every time I pressed the shutter it would cost me a pound. So I became like a sniper. I would follow Freddy like I had a movie camera, and then when I saw the shot in that nanosecond, I would take the picture. Focusing was manual. I often got a really bad headache after concerts because the brain strain was so intense. You watch the lights and what the artist is doing so closely. This was a summer show. The further north you go the later it gets, so on the Maine Road in Manchester it was all daylight. I was shooting on an old Olympus and the film could only go up to a certain speed so if someone is moving fast you need daylight to work. Also, shooting towards the crowd meant that the people who worship him are in the same picture. Off stage, Freddie could be very shy, but he was probably the funniest person I’ve ever toured with. Apparently, he always referred to me as Doris. Brian May, guitarist for Queen, said: “You didn’t know?” I didn’t – Freddy apparently called me that when I wasn’t around. On stage, however, he was so flamboyant. He would command a whole crowd – just like he did at Live Aid. If you think of Freddie, this shot would be it. The exhibition 69 Days by Denis O’Regan can be viewed online at west-contemporary-editions.com and in person at the Denis O’Regan Gallery, London, on 25 and 26 November.
Denis O’Regan’s CV
Born: London, 1953 Educated: Self-taught Influences: ‘David Bowie, the Beatles, Steve Jobs, Elon Musk. I bought my first Mac in 1987, two years before Adobe released Photoshop, which I adopted immediately.” High point: “The birth of my son in 2006. And David Bowie’s Serious Moonlight world tour, 1983.” Low point: “My mother’s cancer. She died in 1978 at the age of 47.” Top tip: “Stop whining. Just do it.”
