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A hesitant rock performance attendee, Bill Owens nevertheless photographed the dreadful 1969 music celebration Altamont and the close of an era.

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Altamont, 1969. Credit Credit Expense Owens

Pictures by Bill Owens

Text by Jonathan Blaustein

A half-century back, 1969 capped a radical, idealistic decade that saw the increase of the hippie generation and the assassinations of John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy and the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Woodstock, maybe the most popular show ever, happened that summer, with free love and drugs functioning as backdrops to sets by Jimi Hendrix, Santana, Richie Havens and others.

But another large, raucous rock celebration that year ended up being infamous for extremely different reasons: Altamont. That December, the Rolling Stones and the Grateful Dead arranged an unscripted concert at Altamont Speedway, in the golden hills of Northern California’s East Bay, that drew an estimated 300,000 people. 4 individuals passed away, including a male who was eliminated by members of the Hells Angels who had been hired to offer “security” for the occasion.

A lot for peace and love.

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Altamont, 1969. Credit Bill Owens

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Grace Slick of Jefferson Aircraft at Altamont, 1969. Credit Expense Owens

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Altamont, 1969. Credit Expense Owens

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Altamont, 1969 Credit Bill Owens

The show was featured in the documentary film “Gim me Shelter,” and a couple of photojournalists caught the experience. Amongst them was Expense Owens, who would quickly increase to photographic fame for his influential early 1970 s task “Suburbia,” which cheekily recorded the increase of the suburban areas in California.

In December 1969, he was working as a professional photographer for The Independent, a paper in neighboring Livermore, Calif., when his good friend Beth Bagby and her boyfriend, Robert, who worked for The Associated Press, contacted us to see if he wanted to shoot the concert. His editors gave him the day off as long as he let them publish an image of the event.

” The concert was going to be on a Saturday morning,” he recalled. “For some factor I had a bike, probably because it was $85 So I drove my motorbike out, and I went on the back roadways. People were abandoning their cars, so pretty quickly I had to ditch the motorcycle, because there was a barbed-wire fence there, and I couldn’t take it up this hill.”

He got there early with two electronic cameras, 3 lenses, film and a jar of water. He went up the sound tower to get a bird’s- eye view, which provided him a sense of the concert’s stretching scale.

Several hours later, a Hells Angels biker climbed up the tower and threatened to slam his head with a pipeline wrench and toss him off the tower if he didn’t come down. Considering that he ‘d used up all his movie already, Mr. Owens happily required and slowly made his way back to his bike to go home. As he later wrote: “People combating on sound towers only takes place in the movies, and the great person wins. Reality is different.”

Mr. Owens didn’t even like rock shows as he was a few years older than the hippies surrounding him, and he wasn’t interested in “dope.” He just desired to go house to his household, placed on the TV and watch Walter Cronkite.

Ms. Bagby stayed into the night, and photographed a Hells Angels member stabbing an African-American man, Meredith Hunter, near the stage as the Stones played. Mr. Owens didn’t know anything had actually gone terribly wrong till the following day.

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Altamont, 1969. Credit Costs Owens

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Altamont 1969. Credit Bill Owens

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Carlos Santana at Altamont, 1969. Credit Costs Owens

In addition to pictures of Mick Jagger making his method through the crowd, and Jefferson Airplane and Santana on phase, Mr. Owens handled to catch images of the Hells Angels beating individuals with pool cues, and feared his family might be at risk.

Not taking any chances, he published his images under a pseudonym.

” When the images appeared in Rolling Stone and Esquire all over the world, I had 2 or three different aliases on different images,” he said. “I would not publish my name, because my name remains in the phone book, and I don’t desire any person related to the Hells Angels to come trying to find me and shoot me thinking I was the one who shot the pictures of the man being killed.

” I have actually got a partner and a kid, and a second kid coming along. You want to be seeing TV in the night time. You do not wish to be sitting there with a gun trying to protect yourself. I do not want anything to do with that culture.”

After the images were published, Mr. Owens and Ms. Bagby lent their negatives to a young couple who planned to include them in a book, but their house was robbed and the thieves took all the negatives. Mr. Owens blames the Hells Angels, who he thinks weren’t thinking about evidence staying at large.

The couple of photos that survived have been collected in a brand-new photo book, “Altamont 1969,” that was just recently released in Italy by Damiani Books. It’s a remarkable collection of pictures, in addition to being an important file of an unstable chapter in American cultural history.

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Altamont, 1969. Credit Costs Owens

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Altamont, 1969. Credit Expense Owens

It’s also an unexpected series to those who understand Mr. Owens for his amusing, warmhearted projects from the 1970 s, and maybe likewise to those who know him only as one of the founders of the craft beer brewing and craft distilling movements in the United States. Mr. Owens also served in the Peace Corps and took a hitchhiking trip worldwide.

The Altamont task, which relied so greatly on being present at a specific moment, appears an outlier compared to the rest of his work. In 1978, he published a manual about how to become a documentary professional photographer, in which he composed: “Each year rewards are provided to photographers who were at the ideal disaster at the best time: a shot of someone being up to his death, or even better, a photograph of someone holding a weapon on a captive, and being blasted at by the polices. My pictures of violence are not a source of personal pride.”

However at 80, having lived an abundant and different life, Bill Owens is delighted the book will belong of the cultural conversation.

And he’s pleased it’s happening now.

” I know now, at age 80, God can take you,” he stated. “Within 3 months, I can go. A great deal of people have actually gone currently. I read the obits. When you’re ready, something can be cooking inside of you, and you’re gone, and I have actually got this tradition to take care of.”

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Altamont, 1969. Credit Expense Owens

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Altamont, 1969. Credit Expense Owens

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Altamont, 1969. Credit Expense Owens

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