There’s a moment that happens in almost every photo pit. The lights drop, the crowd surges forward, cameras rise in unison, and for a brief stretch of time, a handful of strangers are asked to share the same few feet of space while capturing something fleeting. You learn very quickly that talent alone won’t carry you here. Awareness will. Most of the time, that window is small. Three songs, fifteen minutes, sometimes even less.

Detroit did not blink at the weather. Even with a snowstorm delaying flights and pushing doors nearly two hours past schedule, the crowd kept arriving. People bundled against wind and ice still chose to stand shoulder-to-shoulder inside The El Club, a small venue with the energy of something much larger. It was our first time shooting here, and stepping into a space without a barricade meant we became part of the audience instead of perched in front of it.