Big Shot
If an image of Jim Morrison, The Rolling Stones, Simon & Garfunkel, The Mamas and the Papas, The Beach Boys, or The Byrds has been burnished into your memory, chances are you’ve been touched by the work of Guy Webster
Written by Katherine Stewart | Photography by Guy Webster
Perhaps the most influential visual chronicler of the great age of classic rock, Guy Webster shot album covers for dozens of bands as well as portraits of prominent cultural figures including Dennis Hopper, Jane Fonda, Ravi Shankar, Jack Nicholson, Eva Gabor, Truman Capote, Judy Collins, Rock Hudson, Janis Joplin, Barbra Streisand, Mick Jagger, and presidents Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton.
During the Nixon administration, Webster decamped from California, where he was raised, to Italy and Spain, returning after a half dozen years. He met and married his wife Leone, and they moved to a restored farmhouse in Ojai, where they raised daughters Merry and Jessie, enjoying visits with Sarah, Michael, and Erin—Webster’s children from his first marriage. In 2019, at age 79, Webster died of a longstanding illness. We chatted with his daughter Merry to learn more about the man behind the legend.
How did your father manage to capture the iconic images he produced?
My father obtained a master’s degree in art history at the University of Florence and used his understanding of light and composition from classical paintings in his own photography.
A majority of the artists he photographed were living the high life of the ’60s and ’70s. Many were experimenting with drugs, and they often needed wrangling. At the time my father shot the iconic bathtub cover of The Mamas and the Papas album If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears, the band was hanging out in a house in Laurel Canyon. There was a large bowl of weed burning in the middle of the living room, and no one had the stamina to go outside to shoot the album cover. So my father told them to get in the bathtub and just had them relax there while he took the photos.
What are some things that few people know about your father?
My father was an epic storyteller. He would find a corner seat at a party and let people come to him. By the end of the night, you could always find him holding court to a large group enchanted by his
life stories.
His father, Paul Francis Webster, was an award-winning lyricist who won three Oscars and a Grammy and was nominated for 14 Academy Awards. So music was a big part of my father’s upbringing. He was influenced by everything from opera to early folk to 1970s rock and would test my sister and me on names of blues and opera singers during our daily carpool.
What type of music did he enjoy listening to at home?
In his early teens, he had a serious injury to both his hands. To ease his boredom while recuperating, he began listening to opera on his radio—this began his lifelong love and study of the genre.
In his studio, in the car, and at home, he loved listening to the blues, opera, and classic folk music—and he often returned to Van Morrison, who was a favorite. He credited Bob Dylan with orienting his life toward social justice, and he loved the values the ’60s brought to society. He also regularly listened to the artists he worked with, since many of them were his close friends.
How did he relate to you and your sister as children?
My father wasn’t a traditional “father figure” in that he didn’t check up on our grades, enforce bedtime, or reprimand us. My mom, Leone, was the person who looked after us in those ways. He did teach us a lot about culture, history, music, and classic movies though. He wasn’t shy about regaling us with his irreverent adventures and subsequent life lessons.
He also volunteered to teach photography at our school (The Oak Grove School in Ojai) so we could learn about the darkroom and understand lighting and composition. He was instrumental in inspiring many of his students to pursue photography careers.
Tell us about his passion for motorcycling.
Many people also knew him as a world-renowned collector of antique Italian race bikes. He had close to 100 beautifully restored motorcycles in the barn in the backyard of our family home. He went on rides through New Zealand, Costa Rica, and Mexico; traversed the entire United States many times; and visited every single national park on his bike. His rider friends have always said how wonderful he was to ride with—so sure, steady, adept yet fast. He regularly hosted open houses where aficionados from all over the country came to see his collection. But he was not a typical collector; he was very Buddhist in his detachment to material things.
Did your father have a daily routine?
My dad liked to go out to coffee every morning. It was a habit that began when he lived in Europe in the early ’70s and remained a large part of his routine until his final days. A loyal group of friends would join him every morning, and they would often invite others to join their table. It was a very eclectic group of people of all ages. They adored him, and often made him feel like the unofficial mayor of Ojai.
His photo studio in Venice was also a hub for friends and other artists. He was such a sociable person and cultivated friendships from so many of his interests. My sister Jessie (now a professional photographer) worked for him in his studio as an assistant for 14 years along with his other assistant, Lisa Gizarra.
Tell us a bit about your father’s later years.
His stroke changed his life dramatically, but he was able to keep working with aid from friends and his assistant Khaled Fouad, who would help set up his camera. Only a month before he passed away, he put on a show at the Porch Gallery in Ojai based on the metaphor of the safety masks worn during the Thomas Fire. He shot portraits of a multitude of Ojai locals with their own hand-made masks, metaphors for the safety masks but crafted in ways that reflected their unique personalities. The show was a huge success with over 250 people in attendance. •