Creatures of Coachella

This is my fifth Coachella, and this year was the craziest. In my experience with the locals, Coachella is kind of a nuisance. It brings in money locally, but Indio is primarily vacation homes and retirees. We drove past an interesting group of desert elders on the way in who made signs cheering us on (“hydrate; you’re almost there”) as everyone was loading to do God knows what.

The festival is always chaotic and stressful to start—the crowd is on edge with anticipation. As the days progressed, people unwound. That’s the thing with Coachella: what can go wrong will go wrong, but it works out in the end. You have to embrace the experience you’re given.

You see all sorts of people at this festival, some of whom I relate with and some who are wackier. One guy was walking around smiling ear to ear, almost waiting for somebody to talk to him, so I complimented his suit. After I took a few photos, he looked at me and said, “Say yes to everything today.”

My approach is always observational. I capture what I see, whether it’s an old man or an art installation or people sitting in the grass. I walked by a couple who made me think a little deeper. The girl is propped up, waiting patiently, and he’s taking a nap. Is this guy completely over it and wants to get out of here? It’s up to interpretation.

I usually go to Coachella to shoot for an artist or a brand activation. This is my first time going all over the place to capture moments. The Spectra tower is the most Instagrammable, filled with people spiraling inside. One time I passed by and for a moment, only two girls were there, pressed against the glass. Photography is luck sometimes.

I spent golden hour at Dorsia’s pop-up sushi bar with Nobu. It’s intimate; everyone was relaxed, watching the show on the Quasar Stage, even dancing in their seats. In the table section, people had bottle service with their sushi and they were getting wild. From calm to nutty.

After dark is when the real shit comes out. Daytime at the festival is all over the place, so people are more aware and careful. At night, they let loose. There’s an internal decision of, is it messed up for me to capture this? It’s tricky. I go with my gut most of the time. A big part of it is whether I’m going to be seen. If I can sneak it, I sneak it. One girl noticed me taking a photo as she hugged someone—festival love?— and flipped me off. She laughed. I captured a natural moment and got a reaction I wasn’t necessarily looking for, but the humor created a more interesting shot.

On Sunday night, I dropped by the Guess party. Everyone from Teyana Taylor and Pink Pantheress to Travis Scott, Young Thug, and Nav were there. My interests have always surrounded fashion, music, and creatives. A lot of my friends work in music, so I’m pretty desensitized to celebrities. If I see a situation where I think someone will pose for a photo, I’ll swoop in. I notice I behave differently when I have one shot—I can’t ask this dude to pose for two or three photos.

Coachella is the Clout Olympics. All bets are off. It’s a heightened version of LA, with a lot of the same crowd. Dorsia’s Desert Nights afters was more upscale. Everyone was there to have a good time, not to rub shoulders. You get an interesting mix of rich guys who want to blow a bag and pop bottles, and people who just want to dance the night away.

House music has gotten so big recently that you can’t escape it. David Guetta was very hype, and then I decided to float around the estate. There’s the huge pool in the middle, a beach with guests around bonfires, and installations like the Dorsia Airstream with the artist Mokibaby where people talked and took a breather. That was the place to see familiar faces and meet people. An escape from the madness.

I was at Desert Nights until 3:30 am, and it hadn’t peaked yet when I left. People were still showing up—Diplo, Alix Earle, Thundercat. I asked someone for one last photo and it started a chain reaction of everyone around us asking me to take their picture. On my way out, the party was still going on the dance floor, and some industry veterans who have been to Coachella for 15 or 20 years were sitting and reminiscing. That’s a testament to the environment during these weekends in the desert—everyone’s happy to be here.

LA is a revolving door. Club culture is pretty dead, too. When I moved here in 2016, people were going out every night, but now there’s not much to do besides house parties. After a certain point, I wonder what I’m still doing on the scene. Coachella makes me excited again; it’s where self-expression is taken to the extreme. There’s no way the guy in the flamingo-print suit dresses like that on a regular basis. It’s cool to see everyone in their element.