Paris • First show

January 17

They usually got up late. One day they were still in pajamas and robes when one of their road managers—Neil Aspinall or Mal Evans—came in with a big sack of mail. Word had gotten out that the band was staying at the George V, so cards and letters were piling up. The four of them sat on the rug, reading them out loud. “I’ve always thought you were the cutest Beatle.” Stuff like that. They’d rib each other.

I got down on the floor, photographing, and noticed Paul had positioned himself right in the center, reading a letter. He knew instinctively how to play to a camera. (He would even marry a photographer—his first wife, Linda Eastman.) The picture editors at the Express understood Paul’s magnetism: He was the handsomest and you looked at him right away. As a photographer, you could have two or three Beatles in a shot, but you always had to have Paul. My instructions from the picture desk would be: “Be sure you get Paul in the picture, old boy.”

Ringo got the most mail, though—by far. I think that’s because girls thought he was the most approachable. You couldn’t go for Paul or John or George—they were all so good-looking. Plus, John was married. If a fan was going to choose, she chose the one she thought the other fans weren’t going after.

That evening, they knocked about in the suite again. But my day didn’t end when the Beatles’ day ended. Every night I’d stay up in my hotel bathroom, developing and printing pictures so the Express could pick one to run in the paper. I’d use gaffer’s tape to seal any openings around the door, wedge towels under the door, and put a bedsheet on the floor to kneel on. In the pitch dark, I’d put the exposed rolls of black-and-white film in little tanks with D-76 developer, usually spilling developer all over the place. I’d hang the rolls of negatives on the shower rack to dry. I ruined more toilets developing my photographs than I can count.

I’d then put my enlarger on the commode. I’d choose the best frames, print them wet, then fix them with fixer in a small tank. When you flipped the light on, you’d see a hellish mess: your hands and the bedsheet stained yellow. You used the bathtub to wash the prints and negatives, drying them with a hair dryer. By then it’d be 5 a.m. You’d set up a transmitter and attach it to the bedroom phone and send three or four “selects”; it would take about eight minutes to transmit each picture.

I’d spend part of every night in my underwear, on my kneecaps, sweating in a sealed-off bathroom. But I’d feel rather pleased with myself for what I’d done that day.

Harry Benson – From The Beatles Stormed America in 1964. I Was With Them, Day and Night | Vanity Fair, January 17, 2024

Olympia Hall

This was the 3rd concert played at Olympia Hall.

A total of 39 concerts have been played there • 1964 • Jan 16 First show • Jan 16 Second show • Jan 17 First show• Jan 17 Second show • Jan 18 First show • Jan 18 Second show • Jan 19 First show • Jan 19 Second show • Jan 20 First show • Jan 20 Second show • Jan 22 First show • Jan 22 Second show • Jan 23 First show • Jan 23 Second show • Jan 24 First show • Jan 24 Second show • Jan 25 First show • Jan 25 Second show • Jan 26 First show • Jan 26 Second show • Jan 27 First show • Jan 27 Second show • Jan 29 First show • Jan 29 Second show • Jan 30 First show • Jan 30 Second show • Jan 31 First show • Jan 31 Second show • Feb 1 First show • Feb 1 Second show • Feb 2 First show • Feb 2 Second show • Feb 3 First show • Feb 3 Second show • Feb 4 First show • Feb 4 Second show • 1972 • Jul 16 Afternoon show • Jul 16 Evening show • 2007 • Oct 22