by Stephanie Chatfield
In 2023, we visited the Paul McCartney photography exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery. The focus of this exhibit was fascinating: photographs McCartney captured himself, using his own camera, between December 1963 and February 1964 — a pivotal moment when The Beatles soared from British fame to global stardom.
These never-before-seen photographs gifted us with an intimate, firsthand view of what it was like to be a ‘Beatle’ at the dawn of ‘Beatlemania,’ capturing the band’s transition from playing UK stages to performing for 73 million viewers on The Ed Sullivan Show. At a time when countless cameras were trained on them, McCartney’s images are a fresh, personal perspective on one of the most thrilling chapters in the story of a band that changed cultural history.
In 1963, as Beatlemania exploded across Britain — and maybe as a way to push back against the constant cameras in his face — McCartney picked up a 35mm Pentax and started capturing the world through his own lens: the eye of the storm. The exhibition was a fascinating glimpse into the Beatles’ experience from the inside looking out, showing us their view of the crowds, the chaos, and the quieter moments behind the scenes with their bandmates and crew.
Walking through the exhibit was a deeply immersive experience. Even just seeing the handwritten lyrics to I Want To Hold Your Hand was moving — I was struck by how that song isn’t just part of my subconscious, but part of the world’s, whether you grew up in the ’60s, the ’70s, or even the ’90s.
For so many of us, it feels like The Beatles have just always been there — a constant presence in our lives. I’m grateful I got to experience this exhibit, to see the innocence of four young guys from Liverpool suddenly swept into a wild, manic new world. That thought kept hitting me as I moved through each section: they were so young. What a strange, overwhelming experience it must have been. How could anyone walk away from that unchanged?
It also made me think about how we, as a society, treat those who share their talents with us. Too often, we act like we own them — as if their work and even their innermost selves are somehow owed to us. It’s a pattern that can lead to heartbreak and devastation, something we’ve seen again and again, from Marilyn Monroe to Amy Winehouse. We’re quick to lift people up, and just as quick to tear them down.
Index of Adventures
- A Pre-Raphaelite Look at Hitchcock’s Vertigo
- Balancing on the Bridge
- Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s Home
- From Tennyson to TikTok: Are We All Living the Lady of Shalott’s Curse?
- On Storms
- Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens
- Pre-Raphaelite Princess of Star Wars
- St. Pancras Old Church Gardens
- The Magic Down the Rabbit Hole
- The Wounded Dove
- Unconventional Beauty
- Visiting Lizzie Siddal at Highgate Cemetery
- Westminster Abbey
- What Grows from Grief