Flip Side of Fame

Back in the pre-digital days, we all kept batches of snapshots in shoe boxes, pulling them out occasionally to marvel at the memories, mainly interesting only to those involved. But when your shoe box has photos of someone wildly famous — and prematurely departed — it could be turn out to be revelatory.

Such is the case with May Pang's shoe box full of images of her 18-month companionship with John Lennon. In her new, splendidly titled book, Instamatic Karma ($30, St. Martin's Press), Pang (at right in 1974) shares pictures that had literally been closeted away since the mid-1970s. A recent piece in the New York Times pointed out Pang's intent — to show that Lennon was not all depressed and unproductive during his "Lost Weekend" months with her — but the book itself weaves a complex portrait of Lennon's time away from his wife Yoko, befitting a man of every-changing moods and contradictions.

We all tend to smile for a camera, whatever the occasion, and in many of these images (some shot on a Nikkormat 33mm SLR, some on a Polaroid SX-70) John is all grins, displaying his trademark campy wit. In others, he looks pensive and downbeat. Lennon himself said that he was "a monk or a performing flea," and we get glimpses of both. It was part of his own PR spiel to portray this period — away from Yoko, partly in Los Angeles, hanging out with heavy drinkers — as an unhappy time and then to paint his "househusband" years in the late 70s as idyllic; the reality is likely much more complicated than that.

As many people know, Pang was John and Yoko's personal assistant before the famous couple separated. The funniest tale Pang shares is the genesis of her romance with Lennon: "Yoko came into my office in the arpartment at the Dakota and told me that she and John were 'not getting along,'" she writes. "Yoko continued, 'You don't have a boyfriend.' I dropped my pad and pen." Yoko apparently assigned Pang to be her younger surrogate — and their physical resemblance in these images is striking.

Another interesting facet, and oft-photographed figure, is John's son Julian, who reunited with his father after four long years of separation during visits with John and May. These trips also brought May and John's first wife, Cynthia, together to form an unlikely friendship that continues now (the two women are together at a recent book promo at right). Other famous faces that drop in at John and May's New York City apartment include Paul and Linda McCartney, Mick Jagger and David Bowie (and girlfriends du jour). L.A. scenes include Ringo, Keith Moon, and John's infamous drinking buddy Harry Nilsson (they're wrestling in the shot below). In the snapshots, as Pang writes, "everyone seems so young, so vibrant."

What's fascinating about this collection, though, is its unguarded candor. Most of the pictures — many of which are blurry and of poor quality — have never been seen, and while Lennon had a history of befriending photographers (such as Bob Gruen, whose shown shooting the Walls and Bridges cover in the book, and Allan Tannenbaum, who recently put out a terrific book on John and Yoko), rarely has John seemed so un-self-conscious in front of a camera. Pang's brief written recollections are likewise straightforward, lacking the hagiography, or the sensationalism, found in most Lennon remembrances. Thanks to her shoe box, we get to see not just an icon, or a monk, or a performing flea, but a friendly human. — Jack Crager