Let’s start this right. Listen to my Hans Zimmer playlist on Spotify while you read this, yo.

Hans is even more amazing than his humble self will allow.

I was invited to join him at the “Eastwood Scoring Stage” (Eastwood of Clint) at Warner Bros one afternoon in Los Angeles. It’s a huge gymnasium-sized recording studio where Casablanca and Rebel Without a Cause (among others) were scored. The space is massive and more than big enough to fit a fully realized symphony orchestra. Hans was recording the soundtrack for his latest movie (his other soundtracks you may know from Inception, The Lion King, Gladiator, Batman, Interstellar, etc etc etc!)

We had just finished our Tour across the USA and I was trying to catch up on sleep in LA. But then I remembered Hans was there! Forget resting! So I jumped in an Uber to go visit him at Warner Bros. I got out in the middle of this massive movie studio and had to negotiate my way through security. It appeared I was a random dude with a big camera trying to sneak into movie studios. I had to go through that awkward routine where you have to pull up emails on your phone to prove that someone of my suspicious caliber was actually allowed to be in a place like that.

I’m of course incredibly excited. Even though I’ve been to Hans’ studio several times, I’ve never actually witnessed the recording of a soundtrack for a movie.

So, I walk through a series of alleys and rather non-descript buildings until I found my way to the Eastwood Scoring Stage. I walk in, and there are about 20 people inside, all scurrying this way and that. It’s unclear what anyone is doing. There’s a lot of shuffling of paper and pointing and smiles. People are laughing at things that are happening that are far beyond my ken.

Then, in the midst of the maelstrom, Hans sees me and stands up abruptly, stares bullets into me, opens his arms like an Attenborough bird of paradise and announces, “ALERT EVERYONE!”

Then everyone gets quiet. I shrink back into the corner, assuming, as usual, I’m someplace I really shouldn’t be. Private Catholic school probably fucked me up and made me feel, by default, guilty just for being alive and having fun.

And after a small silence of a thousand pins, Hans says, “I want everyone to know that the greatest photographer in the world has just joined us!” Everyone clapped and I was like “HOLY SHIT” but I didn’t say that. I just gave a little Japanese bow and folded myself back into the shadows.

I never know how to take a compliment, and I know he was simply being bombastic and nice. I tried to indicate that I don’t actually take myself seriously at all (you guys know I don’t), and also I felt like was INTERRUPTING ACTUAL WORK. I mean, there are 20 people on this side of the glass and a whole symphony orchestra on the other side. I’m picturing $$ odometers over their heads all the time. Even with a few minutes of downtime, I feel like it’s equal in value to 250 Warner Bros. power lunches.

Then Hans comes over to give a quick hug. I ask if I can take a few photos and meander about while not interrupting anything. He says of course of course. Just don’t publish anything before the movie comes out (it was one of the new Batman movies, which I am publishing this way after.). He knows I won’t do anything like that… not that sort of photographer / blog here. I’m the best secret-keeper in the world, and people keep trusting me with their secrets! Anyway, it’s safe to publish all this stuff now.

Everyone gets back to work doing tasks I can’t decipher. One guy is twisting dials. Another is pushing buttons. Some people are on microphones talking to the conductor on the other side of the glass. Random interns are bringing in drinks and wraps. People are sitting on couches on the back row apparently not doing anything but watching. In fact, most people are doing nothing as I watch. But they look incredibly busy doing nothing. This is a remarkable skill, but some of us notice this two-dream-level inception of deception.

I’m about to go through to “the other side.” I’m going through a giant sound-proof door to the orchestra. Hans signals to the conductor, Nick Glennie-Smith, that I’m cool and it’s okay. He comes over and holds me around the shoulder and points to three red lights. “Trey, when those lights turn red, don’t move. Don’t make a sound. You’re a statue.”

“I understand,” I whispered like I was huddling in a corner after calling 911. I was already petrified.

There’s the conductor, Nick Glennie-Smith. He’s a wonderful guy blessed with the senses of 100 bloodhounds.

So I walk into the orchestral area. Incredible. I immediately want my son Ethan to be here with me. Well heck, I want all the kids to be here, but especially Ethan (15 yrs) because he’s our brilliant piano player. He was currently working on the full version of Pirates of the Carribean, another tune from Hans Zimmer. It’s good to inspire kids, you know? I’m thinking… I’m already MEGA INSPIRED. I don’t deserve to be here… my son does! Anyway, I’m feeling like a lame dad, having an amazing time here in Hollywood while my son is stuck in some boring math class back in New Zealand. I gather my wits and think, okay Ratcliff, let’s try to take an interesting photo.

Which brings me to another point. Most of my photos ARE NOT that interesting. Most are just little studies or ideas. Not all the photos I post here with this article are world-killers or anything. Just little ideas. Little things I saw. Small studies and small captures… little ideas. Just sharing.

Well, this sets the stage for a potentially #1 Most Embarrassing Trey moment of his life.

Okay, so this is a critical scene they’re recording. It’s the big scene where the good guy and bad guy have some kind of a reckoning.

It reminds me of a very funny thing Eckhardt Tolle said in one of his talks. He says, “I can sum up every single movie plot with three words.” He chuckles like the Dalai Lama softly and looks off into the distance. The whole audience is sitting there, enraptured. They’re thinking, “What! You can’t sum up EVERY movie with three words!” But they’re also trusting in the Eckhardt. Then he gives the three words: “Something Goes Wrong.”

Anyway, at this point in the movie, which is playing on screens in all the studios, things are going terribly wrong. So the music needs to underscore this without dominating what’s on the screen. Hans has said this again and again. He doesn’t want the music to be the “star” — it should just dance along with the screen and add to the vibration.

They keep replaying this critical loop in the movie, trying to get the cellos EXACTLY right. But it’s not quite where Hans wants it. So they do it again and again. And there’s a strange CREAKING sound coming from somewhere. It’s really bothering the conductor Myerson and everyone in the control room. It’s now been 15 takes and they are not getting this bit right. It’s a huge problem and everyone is getting frustrated. The musicians, Hans, Myerson, and you can even see the interns are getting agitated. Their wrap delivery has decreased in efficiency by at least 33%.

And I can hear it too, the squeaking. I’m in the middle of the orchestra. I’m ONLY taking photos when the red “recording” light is not on. My camera makes a fair bit of noise. But I’m being a very good boy. I’m moving like a ninja. Like, Kato. Like a nubile young cat, my moves are like a soft breeze. In fact, I’m rarely so focused on trying to get interesting photos while being so stealthy. Well, there was that one time in the Forbidden City with a drone when I was arrested for NOT being so stealthy. This time, I’m trying to be better and smoother. Smooth dolphin in the water. This is what I keep saying to myself. Smooth dolphin in the water.

But things are about to go pear-shaped, as they say here in New Zealand.

“What the Fuck is that NOISE!!” The conductor shouts. I freeze. I’m like HOLY MOSES, this is the end.

And then somebody playing a violin says, “It’s the photographerrrrr!”

This is it. This is the beginning of my downward spiral. I knew it. Well, I had a good run.

I’m now as still as an Easter Island statue. Only my eyes are moving, furtively darting right and left. I’m pretty sure that I was so still that my heart stopped beating as I slowly flatlined.

Myerson, the conductor, snapped, “It’s NOT the photographer!” He pointed at me with one commanding finger. “It’s coming from OVER THERE,” as he pointed with his other hand to the other side of the room. “It’s someone’s chair. I know sound, and I know where sound comes from! Sit STILL.”

I was like Holy Fuck this is some intense shit. I looked up and Hans and everyone in the control room were laughing. I almost collapsed into the kettle drum.

I was off the hook and in the clear. I re-gathered my wits (which I find I need to do a dozen times a day), then started taking photos again. I feel bad because I’ve inadvertently publicly shamed some random violinist that probably went to Royal Academy of Music and has played for the Queen, but, hey, that’s the past. Let’s just take some photos and have fun! Yeah!

I got my fill. I recorded a bit of video here so you can see what was going on after that fiasco.

I went back in the control room and I was descended upon by paperwork. I was signing stuff saying I won’t release any sensitive IP too early. No problem. I sign and sign. I think they were a bit worried since I had already taken 100 photos before signing anything. You know how people get… but Hans trusted me and that’s all I need, eh?

Well, that’s the end of the story, really. I took a bunch more photos. I’ll add them below along with a few extra side-stories. First, let me share one of my favorite new videos I made with Hans Zimmer’s music. This is a collection of all the quadcopter footage I’ve gathered from around the world in the last 5+ years. It’s also accompanied by the words of one of my favorite philosophers, Alan Watts.

FLASHBACK: I met Hans the first time about 5 years ago (reading for later) and we’ve just stayed friends ever since. I always wonder why we like one another. I think it’s because it’s one of those strange relationships where we don’t actually want anything, other than to hang out. I assume that Hans’ world is 10x mine, where everyone you meet just wants something, so it creates a strange dynamic. We come from different worlds (music / photography), so the only overlap our mostly futile attempts to tap into the natural flow of creativity in the universe.

And here’s the photo of Hans holding the white rose, the world’s oldest symbol of peace.

A final photo here. After recording was wrapped and as all the musicians were leaving, Hans and I went outside to talk for a while. His son Maxiumus was there. Sometimes I think it’s hard for dads to see, but it’s clear to me how much Max admires and loves him.