I watched her brave out from under the awning of the Cyclone into a torrential downpour. As I maneuvered keeping my camera safely under an umbrella, a drenched Claire Ozmun sheepishly paused her posing to let a far away family pass by. I found it amusing that even in a massive storm, Claire’s main consideration was pulling too much focus. I wonder if her grunge forefathers would share the same anxiety in the midst of this moment. 

I am a photographer and I love working with musicians and getting to know them through my work. A few months ago I reached out to Claire Ozmun about taking artist portraits. In that I stumbled into the fortunate position of becoming her friend and meeting the noble folks of COB, aka Claire Ozmun Band. Everything about her artistic perspective resonated with my desperate need for nostalgic, earnest self-reflection all mixed together with a ripping rock sensibility. I had the honor of shooting her much anticipated Dying in the Wool EP release at the Sultan Room in Brooklyn opened by Hiding Places and Adeline Hotel. They pulled a full house on a Wednesday evening so it was clear that night that we the people were watching COB launch.

I proposed to Claire that we celebrate by doing a photoshoot at Coney Island. When we first arrived at the West 8th street stop and our shoot began, so did a flash flood. Claire said her approach to the rain is to embrace and allow it to do what it will. This connected beautifully to her songwriting; a raw reflection of uncomfortable circumstances. As an artistic director my job is often to interpret the artist’s body of work into visuals that complete their message. I was keen on understanding Claire’s relationship with her visual output from a career standpoint. With a striking soft-grunge aesthetic and a drive to make memories, she aims to document her life authentically. Soaked from the flood we tucked away to a bar on the boardwalk. Claire thought back on arriving in Brooklyn and setting her sights on being a good friend first. With this Midwest sensibility towards friendships and her life-changing experience at School of Song, Claire joined a sturdy community of fellow artists who she continues to build a beautiful life with. She shared that her music, an honest recollection on growing up in Ohio, came to the forefront after she anchored her love in the people around her – the safest kind of love that brings out the best in an artist. 

One question I had for Claire was, “what does your music know about you that you want visuals to capture?” She responded, “a non-sugar coated truth, discomfort and rawness. Though there is a silliness, general happiness and appreciation for my life.” We laughed about how the memory-making experience of a flash-flood photoshoot at Coney Island with a buddy embraces all of those qualities. She said, “like when we first got here I was actually so scared and I also wanted to laugh my ass off.” In that spirit, Claire and I left the bar and began hunting for lightning on the beach. 

Looking down the road at such a promising career ahead can be so beautiful and daunting. The world of marketing and imagery can be a wild place for musicians. Just because someone is a performer doesn’t mean they are inherently comfortable with their photo taken. Claire is excited to continue into that world though there are reasonable fears around presenting one’s “face and human body.” However, she knows it cannot go wrong while she has her people around her. What better way to express nostalgia than to capture real memories with people you love? I have found in my own life and career that having a trusted community around you easily leads to thriving. It is a rapprochement to get to see yourself in other’s eyes, where that loving safety opens the door for the unknown ahead. Visual translation is very much a game of interpretation and a lesson in knowing. In all of life’s discomfort and hilarity, Claire Ozmun digs into her memories while we get to watch her make more.

To accompany this feature, Claire and Mara put together a supplemental playlist for our listening pleasure.

Written by Mara Rothman | Photo by Mara Rothman