The band waiting for a photoshoot at the “Riot Hyatt” in Los Angeles, 1973. Photograph by **Lynn Goldsmith
In 1973, the world of rock and roll was reaching a fever pitch, with bands like Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, and The Who dominating the music scene. But amid the chaotic energy of the era, one photographer was able to capture the raw essence of these iconic figures—Lynn Goldsmith. Known for her unparalleled ability to immortalize musicians in moments of candid vulnerability, Goldsmith’s photograph of a band waiting for a photoshoot at the “Riot Hyatt”—the infamous Hyatt on Sunset Boulevard—is one of the most evocative images of the 1970s rock scene. It encapsulates not only the characters of the individuals in the photo but also the time and place in which they existed.
The “Riot Hyatt” was not just any hotel. It was a legendary haven for rock stars, a site where excess, chaos, and creativity collided in a haze of late-night parties, drug-fueled jam sessions, and the sort of rock-and-roll lore that would become immortalized in the annals of history. Located on Sunset Boulevard in the heart of Los Angeles, the hotel served as the backdrop for countless stories of mischief, debauchery, and the quintessential rock star lifestyle. It became known as the “Riot Hyatt” because of the numerous disturbances—loud music, shattered glass, hotel furniture being thrown out of windows—that frequently disturbed the hotel’s guests and staff.
Goldsmith’s image of the band waiting for a photoshoot captures more than just a moment of downtime. There’s an almost cinematic quality to the way she frames the musicians, whose personalities and relationships with each other are evident in their postures, expressions, and the space between them. In the photograph, we see a group of men—dressed in the casual yet styled manner that was typical of the era—lounging around in what appears to be a suite at the hotel. Their faces reveal a sense of impatience, boredom, and perhaps a touch of apprehension as they await their next professional obligation. The contrast between their outward composure and the internal chaos they likely felt serves as a reflection of the duality of the rock star experience.
Goldsmith, having already established a reputation for her intimate portraits of musicians, had an uncanny ability to capture the moments that went beyond the performative persona. Unlike many of her peers who focused on the constructed imagery of fame, Goldsmith had a gift for showing the quieter, more vulnerable side of these larger-than-life figures. Whether it was a candid shot of Bob Dylan, an impromptu moment with Bruce Springsteen, or a relaxed photo of David Bowie, Goldsmith’s work transcended the typical press photo and revealed a deeper, more human side of the stars.
In this particular photograph, there’s a sense of anticipation that permeates the air. The band members, who are likely accustomed to the glamour of the stage, seem for once like regular people—tired, impatient, and waiting for their turn to perform for the camera. The casual nature of the image is underscored by the setting itself. The room, though lavish by most standards, has the lived-in feel of a space that’s seen its fair share of late-night parties. The faint traces of excess—an overturned bottle, a cluttered table—suggest the frenetic energy of the lifestyle these musicians led, even in the downtime between performances.
The image is also a study in group dynamics. Each musician’s posture and expression reveal something about their individual role within the band. Some are more distant, perhaps lost in thought or consumed by their own world. Others seem more connected, conversing with each other or engaging in some kind of shared moment of humor or camaraderie. There’s a quiet tension between the group and the photographer, which speaks to the complex relationship between musicians and the media. The band, perhaps knowing that this photo would eventually become iconic, remains both present and distant—a paradox that Goldsmith masterfully captures.
The significance of this image goes beyond its technical and aesthetic qualities. It’s a snapshot of a time when rock and roll was in its prime, but also teetering on the edge of something darker. The late 1960s and early 1970s had been a period of incredible creativity and cultural change, but by 1973, many rock bands were beginning to experience the toll of fame, the exhaustion of constant touring, and the pressures of maintaining their public images. The “Riot Hyatt” was both a refuge and a symbol of the excesses that came with that fame. In many ways, the image embodies the tension between the exhilaration of success and the inevitable burnout that often followed.
In the broader context of Lynn Goldsmith’s career, this photograph is a testament to her ability to distill the complexity of her subjects into a single, powerful image. Over the course of her career, she would go on to photograph some of the biggest names in music, from Patti Smith to Prince, capturing the personalities behind the personas with a sensitivity that few others could match. But the 1973 photo at the “Riot Hyatt” remains one of her signature images, a haunting and evocative portrait of rock and roll at its peak.
Ultimately, the photograph of the band waiting for a photoshoot at the “Riot Hyatt” serves as a powerful reminder of the intersection between fame, creativity, and personal struggle. It’s a glimpse into a world of rock and roll that no longer exists, but one that will continue to be remembered through images like Goldsmith’s. Her work immortalizes not just the faces of the musicians, but the very spirit of the time, capturing a moment of pause in a whirlwind of chaos, ambition, and creativity.