Malcolm

HolcombE:

The Last

Session

Compared to many others in Asheville's longtime music community, I can't say I knew Malcolm Holcolm very well. Most of our interactions took place across the bar during my seventeen years at the Grey Eagle, long after his infamous 'wilder days,' which I'd heard about from nearly every musician in town. Malcolm was always cordial; most of our conversations were centered around gardening and vegetables, and he even gifted me a few bottles of his infamous homemade hot sauce. I’d seen him play perhaps about a dozen times over the years, and his unique stage presence was unforgettable.

Sometimes, he seemed to veer wildly off course, letting every high and low emotion pour out of him on stage, while other times he remained soft and subtle, intensely focused. There was no question the man could do strange things with a microphone and a guitar, but one thing was certain: Malcolm was regarded far and wide as one of Western North Carolina’s most legendary musical heroes.

Although I'd photographed almost every musician who called Asheville home during the early 2000's, I'd never shot Malcolm before. So I was excited to get the call in March of 2023: Malcolm was in need of some new shots, and he wanted to come by my home studio.   

Malcolm arrived to the house mid-afternoon driven by his wife, Cyndi, and I met them at the curb. Malcolm was wearing his familiar well-worn cap, flannel shirt and baggy jeans, but he also wore an oxygen mask and carried a tank at his side. He moved much slower than the last time I'd seen him, and I was suddenly nervous about putting him through a photo shoot.   

Inside, he asked immediately if he could use the restroom, and my first thought was, "Shit, I've got to send Malcolm upstairs into my house, where he'll be at the mercy of my kids"—a place from which many lesser musicians have failed to return. But on his way up, I knew he’d have to pass by the dozens of Mason jars lining the stairwell, filled with my own homemade hot sauce, beans, peppers, cucumbers, pickled ramps, and all the other oddities that I had jarred for the winter. So when he returned to the studio, a grin flash across his face. "This guy is the real deal," he said to Cyndi as he pointed back up the stairs. And with that, I knew we were good to go.

Malcolm never stood still but swayed side to side and glanced around the room, trying his best not to look at the camera, just telling stories. We had to stop a few times so he could catch his breath.

Studio photography, no matter who you're shooting, is a delicate balance of respecting your subject's space while also evoking as much character from them as possible. We're here trying to get some shots for Malcolm can use, of course, and I know a camera in his face is the last thing he wants right now, but I can't help myself: The character and the wisdom and the pain and the years and all the other unknowable things that tell a man's story without saying a single word are written all over his face. It's beautiful. It's what makes us human. Yet it's oh so rare.

About twenty minutes in, he said he'd had enough. "I'm sure you got some good stuff in there," he said. Then Cyndi helped him to the car. 

Malcolm emailed me a few days later and said that he'd get me a bottle of hot sauce soon. I told him I had one for him, too. But sadly, we never had the chance to make it happen. Malcolm's failing health prevented him from performing his last run of shows in the area, and he was gone less than a year later.

Malcolm's music lives on at his YouTube channel, www.malcolmholcombe.com, and the legions of other singers and songwriters who continue to share his work.

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I'm an Asheville based photographer and website designer with over twenty years of experience creating imagery for hundreds of clients in Western North Carolina and beyond. My studio photography specializes in headshots for business and corporations, law firms, artists, entrepreneurs, models, and actors, as well as stylized theme portrait sessions for personal branding, maternity, local and regional musicians. Photo services are available throughout the south, including Raleigh, Charlotte, Winston Salem, Greenville, Columbia, Spartanburg, Knoxville, and Johnson City. Photo sessions are fun and easy, and consultations are always free, so drop me a line and let's plan something amazing together!