
“I was the kid with the camera all the way from 9th grade to 12th grade,” he says. But he caught the photo bug early on, after watching the access afforded to his photojournalist uncle as he reported on local crime scenes. His parents expect him to become a doctor, engineer, or architect. Hastings was born in Sacramento, California to Panamanian and Mexican parents, but left the U.S. The legacy he’ll leave is distinguished, but like many others, his story had humble beginnings. Hastings’ story, in particular, is both unique and generic, the culmination of an immigrant’s dream achieved through a singular artistic vision. Clad in hoodies and masks, they bumrushed the stage during another group’s set, tossing the MCs and DJ aside as they chanted “Wu-Tang Clan Ain’t Nuthing ta Fuck Wit.” When the music dropped, Hastings says “the place went bananas.” At once slightly terrifying, a little disrespectful, and wholly electrifying, the performance embodied the Clan’s raw grit and lawlessness - the perfect note on which to introduce them to the world, visually.Īs part of an exhibition called “Ruff, Rugged & Raw,” he’ll showcase his work with fellow photographers B+ and Xiouping, two artists who shared Hastings’ role as keepers of the culture, documenting some of hip-hop’s most influential artists. Thinking quickly on his feet, he recalled the first time he’d seen the Clan perform, at a showcase during the 1993 Jack The Rapper conference in Atlanta. “Two of them didn’t show up, and The RZA was about to cancel,” says Danny Hastings, the photographer assigned to shoot the cover for the group’s debut studio album. For many, it was the first visual introduction to one of the culture’s most influential groups. The cover of the Wu-Tang Clan’s debut LP Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) is one of the most recognizable images in hip-hop.
