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" In which we look back at some of the most memorable stories of classic album covers. There&amp;#039;s something remarkably vivid and haunting about the cover of George Harrison&amp;#039;s debut solo album, All Things Must Pass. While the 2011 reissue boasted some vibrant colors, the original cover for the 1970 release was a stark black-and-white photo, showing Harrison sitting on a stool among the quiet, foggy lawns of Friar Park. Oh, and he&amp;#039;s flanked by a handful gnomes. Despite the simplistic nature of the photograph, taken by Barry Feinstein \u2014 a photography deity in rock &amp;#039;n&amp;#039; roll circles, having taken some truly monumental shots of Bob Dylan, Janis Joplin, and many others \u2014 it&amp;#039;s loaded with potential for deeper readings. More specifically, the cover seems to insist upon Harrison&amp;#039;s distinctiveness as a solo artist, removed from his days as one of the Beatles. First, there&amp;#039;s the obvious intention of the album title, which grapples with one of the most prevalent and fruitful sources of intrigue in rock and roll: How can an artist move on and define himself after the dissolution of his band, his main creative source for so many years? &amp;quot;All Things Must Pass&amp;quot; sounds like a mantra for the acceptance of the inevitability of decaying relationships if there ever was one. Then there&amp;#039;s the decision to shoot the cover using black-and-white film, perhaps a purposeful effect used to distance Harrison&amp;#039;s debut solo album from the colorful and often jubilant covers of so many albums from the Beatles. Finally, there may be no clearer image of leaving your old band behind than having Harrison sitting up high on a stool, removed from and looking completely unaware of the four lawn gnomes gathered around him. It&amp;#039;s hard not to see those four gnomes as representative of the Beatles and Harrison&amp;#039;s need to leave that identity behind and find something new. After all, gnomes are stuck in place, never to be moved again, their shape completely permanent; whereas Harrison, in contrast, is a living, breathing being that can be changed, shaped, and morphed into something new. There&amp;#039;s a certain amount of gloom present on this cover, but there&amp;#039;s also great hope. Hope that Harrison will be able to step out of the giant shadow of his former band and craft a career that can stand on its own and be judged separately from the firmly cemented place in the rock canon held by the Beatles. And on that front, All Things Must Pass certainly succeeded, and it boasts one of the greatest album covers purely based on the endless ways it can be interpreted. Who knows, maybe Harrison was just a huge fan of lawn gnomes and black-and-white photography. But that&amp;#039;s not nearly as interesting as creating a rock myth out of imagery.  Follow The Culture Blog on RSS and on Twitter at @ESQCulture. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.esquire.com/entertainment/music/a25743/george-harrison-all-things-must-pass-cover/>