The band waiting for a photoshoot at the “Riot Hyatt” in Los Angeles in 1973. Photograph by James Fortune.The band waiting for a photoshoot at the “Riot Hyatt” in Los Angeles in 1973. Photograph by James Fortune…

In 1973, at the height of their fame and infamy, Led Zeppelin found themselves waiting for a photoshoot at the legendary “Riot Hyatt” in Los Angeles — a moment frozen in time by acclaimed rock photographer James Fortune. This hotel, officially the Continental Hyatt House but dubbed the “Riot Hyatt” by the media, was ground zero for some of the most outrageous episodes in rock and roll history. Nestled on the Sunset Strip, the hotel was more than just a place to crash — it was an unofficial clubhouse for touring rock gods like Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, and The Who.

The image captured by Fortune reveals more than just four musicians waiting for a camera. It shows a band at the pinnacle of its power — confident, untamed, and cloaked in the aura of legend. Robert Plant, with his lion’s mane of curls and golden charisma, lounges with the ease of someone who knows the world is watching. Jimmy Page, enigmatic and distant, seems to exist in his own electric dream, a Les Paul never too far away. John Paul Jones, the band’s quiet architect, exudes calm detachment, while John Bonham’s presence simmers with the volatility that made him a beast behind the kit.

What makes this photograph iconic is the contrast between the band’s casual demeanor and the chaotic mythology that surrounded them. The “Riot Hyatt” had already earned its nickname due in part to Zeppelin’s notorious antics — televisions thrown from balconies, motorcycles ridden through hallways, and an endless stream of champagne and guests. Yet in this snapshot, there’s no wreckage, just a moment of stillness before the storm. It’s a rare, almost tender glimpse into the lives of men who seemed larger than life.

James Fortune, known for his intuitive ability to capture rock legends in unscripted moments, later reflected that Zeppelin always carried an air of unpredictability — a blend of English politeness and wild-eyed rebellion. His photograph from that day in 1973 has since become part of rock iconography, not because of the excess it implies, but because of the mystique it preserves.

Today, the image stands as a time capsule — a testament to the era when Led Zeppelin ruled the Sunset Strip, and the Riot Hyatt was the castle of rock’s unruly royalty.