B.B. King was the first serious subject for my camera. For ten years starting from 1968 I took every opportunity to attend his performances, visit with him in his dressing room and hotel room, and hangout backstage. My camera was always in my hand. So chronic was my clicking that B.B. began joking that they suspected me of being a government agent of some sort, FBI or CIA, especially when I turned up, unannounced, in foreign cities. Once my book appeared I stopped the paparazzi behavior, but still joined his entourage whenever he came to town or whenever our paths crossed. It came as a great surprise to me when he confessed, eventually, that he had always felt uncomfortable when my lens stared at him. That is B.B. -- he never objected when it was part of our working relations, but much later when we were just friends he admitted that it had been difficult.

From the beginning my goal had been to build a series of images which would catch the special grace and beauty of his performances. He has such a range of expression and such a complex repertoire of gestures to complement his music that it was tempting to think on a grand scale, to imagine a hefty coffee table picture book filled with nothing but images of B.B. King playing blues. But less is more and a simple series is the best. This, then, is the best I could do.

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