Diary Picture - 28 July 2012

BT Vision Hyde Park - first saturday of the Olympic games. Stand up and cheer!... or lie down.... either way.

Diary Picture - 05 September 2007

A Pashtun man and child walking through the main street of the bazaar in Sangin, one year after it had been the scene of the fiercest fighting in Helmand.

Gore Vidal

I was sad to hear on the radio news this morning of Gore Vidal's death at his Hollywood home on Tuesday.

Back in 1998 I had the slightly intimidating privilege of photographing Gore Vidal for the Daily Telegraph (London) in a Miami Hotel. At the time he was going through a phase of not giving regular interviews so the paper had considered the opportunity something of a coup.

I was warned that he could be quite sharp with photographers, that he had a well deserved reputation of not suffering fools lightly, and that consequently I was to keep my mouth shut as much as I could manage.

The oppressive heat of July in Miami just picked me up and sucked the energy right out of me, even on the short trip from the cab to the hotel lobby. Then the aircon nearly froze me like a popsicle (ice-lolly) as I walked through the swishing doors of the hotel and spa.

Arriving pretty much bang-on the allotted time, I was ushered immediately up to the tiny room where the interview had been held.

Earlier that day, feeling slightly lacking in fresh portrait glass, I had dashed round to Adorama before setting off for the airport and impulsively splashed-out on a Canon 135mm lens specifically for the job.

Now finding myself in the rather 'bijou' room with the light flooding through white wooden shutters, it was plain that the 135 was massively too long! I could just about get far enough away for minimum focus length if I jammed my head awkwardly sideways against the far wall and imitated a gecko.

So it was that I photographed a man who "never suffered fools lightly" while contorting myself into the most unbelievably foolish and precarious pose.

But, as is so often the case, those with the fiercest reputations are generally the easiest and most charming people in person. He seemed slightly amused at the ridiculous figure I cut.

We exchanged pleasantries about America and Britain over the short time of the shoot and at the end he looked me square in the eye and spoke.

"If you wish to succeed in America, all you need to do is tell everyone you meet that you are a Person of Integrity," he proclaimed in deep, mellifluous tones, stressing the last part in that slightly theatrical manner that was perhaps his trademark.

"It matters not a bit whether you actually are," he added, "Just so long as you keep telling everyone."

Tearsheet - Independent on Sunday Centrepiece 1st July 2012.

Always a good feeling to get a big display picture in the centre-spread of the paper. Doubly sweet when it's from an idea you generated with your own contacts...

Wider edit of pictures and full write up to be posted here in the next few days.

Diary Picture - 13 November 2010

Disconnected - telephone cables taken down at the point where the security wall divides the Palestinian-administered territory in the West Bank from Israel. At the end of the dead-end road that formerly ran between Bethlehem and Jerusalem.

Diary Picture - 2 April 2011

Suddenly it was spring.

Diary Picture - 8 October 2008

Barber shop in Kabul. Fancy seat or regular? Choices, choices!

Diary Picture - 12 April 2008

Walking down the seafront in Clacton I noticed the bright blue sparkle of a child's windmill sitting perilously close to the edge of the promenade. 

Twenty minutes later, on my way back, I saw the same twinkle of sapphire, blown onto a different spot on the pavement. Still incongruously blue in a sea of grey and beige. Still vaguely uplifting and tragic at the same time. And still oddly demanding my attention.

Barry Fantoni

Every so often you get a period in which there seem to be 25 hours in each day and all of them are spent working.

Last week was like that for me. The highlight of this slightly mad schedule was an evening spent doing portrait photographs of the multi-talented british author Barry Fantoni in his french home.

Barry was a leading light in the group of artists, writers, musicians and opinion-makers that made Britain cool in the sixties. It will go down as one of the most exciting and creative periods in our history and many of the things that drove this societal change; arts, music, political satire, were very much his strengths.

It almost goes without saying that lots of people can claim to have been on that particular bus, but Barry was one of the drivers. His role amongst the very first contributors to Private Eye may have been the starting point but from there his influence rapidly spread into television and popular culture. 

Despite this, he is perhaps not the household name one might expect. For those not acquainted with his extraordinary back-catalogue, don't bother looking at his ridiculously short entry on Wikipedia. I did, while checking that I had the correct spelling of his name for my captions, and the lack of information is derisory. Barry is evidently too cool for Wikipedia! 

The door to his house in Calais was dark and unprepossessing. But on the other side was a home fairly aching with quiet style. Nothing flashy, nothing trendy, nothing unnecessary, just a simple understated taste in eclectic objects and furniture. Emanating from it all was the enveloping and relaxed atmosphere of a life well lived. 

I could have spent an entire day and taken pictures from every angle without ever running out of amazing corners and settings for portraits. In fact the biggest challenge was what to do with so much choice in the limited time available. This was exactly the opposite from my morning assignment in a London office where I was left shaking my head in dismay at how hideous all the offered locations were.

Barry disappeared briefly while I decided where to start setting-up. I had asked if he could change the yellow t-shirt he had been wearing because it looked somehow wrong for the kind of author portraits that I had in mind. When he re-appeared minutes later, it was in a shirt that had been made for Picasso. Yes, the Picasso....  Definitely too cool for wikipedia!

Mostly due to the kind of piece I was shooting for, I confined myself to working upstairs in the office/studio he shares with his long-time partner Katie.  My favourite pictures from the take were all in the area around this desk. It was a kind of boiled down essence of the creative things he liked to do on a daily basis. Writing, drawing, music, all interspersed with family objects of touching hidden significance.

Often I prefer to shoot horizontal portraits in a wide, slightly environmental way like the one at the bottom -and used by the Independent on Sunday in their interview piece. But it was the more traditional vertical framing with the water stain on the wall behind, that best summed-up the evening's work for me. I made a conscious decision to to frame up with the turntable, desk and painting all leading out of the picture in different directions. The extended intersecting lines of these things, all significant parts of Barry's life, are intended to draw the viewer away from and then and back to his face. And although Barry spent much of the time laughing and joking, I quite liked the slightly contemplative look.

On the wall near his desk were three replica handguns which seemed like the only slightly odd choice or decor in the room. Barry explained that while writing the novels about his creation Harry Lipkin (the world's oldest private detective) he had wanted to get a proper sense of how heavy a handgun would be and how the ageing central character could have realistically carried such a thing. 

A we chatted in the course of taking photos, he talked about Depechism, his new art movement and showed me a few examples. As the name suggests, it is all about quick, simple compositions and he disciplines himself to make one every day. 

He is the sole member of the Depechist movement at present, but if Barry has decided that's the way to go, you'd be a fool to bet against it being the next big thing.

Diary PIcture - 6 June 2010

Backstage at the Bizarre Ball 2010. Picture editor Tom Broadbent had given me a much coveted AAA pass and an open brief..... I had expected it to be debauched, full of hardcore, alternative-lifestyle devotees and bohemians. What I found was a group of very nice people with very sensible jobs like town planners and accountants who just liked dressing-up and having a good time - "freakenders" ..... and why the hell not?

Diary Picture - 1 July 2011

Nature, red in tooth and claw. Sometimes you've got to be careful when you stop to smell the roses.

Diary Picture - 22 Oct 2011

A riot of colour on Washington street. Bright autumn sunlight and that feeling of limitless possibilities that I love about New York. The sky, the high-line, the cars all reflected in a shop selling the most amazing orchids. This is an alternate frame from a previous post from my series, Chasing Smoke.

Diary Picture - 1 Jan 2011

Britain redux. Remnants of the the new-year celebrations left on a patch of muddy grass in Trafalgar Square; champagne, cava, polish beer, belgian beer, Coca-cola, football, tits, and Sir Elton.

Makes your heart swell with pride!

Diary Picture - 30 April 2012

An out-take from an evening spent swimming around (with varying degrees of success) on assignment with a team of male synchronised swimmers. This shot was taken shortly before I discovered that my "water-proof" housing is now merely "water-resistant" since lending it to a friend!

Portraits and the importance of good diction.

Recently I had the pleasure of photographing Meera Syal for a profile piece. She was doing a day of interviews and photos as part of the publicity for a new movie. The uber-smart london hotel hosting the event had set aside two rooms, sans beds, in which photographers could set up their equipment in turn. Meera rotated between photos, interviews and filming for TV. 

Many years ago I had worked at the same publication with Meera's brother Rajiv who is a journalist. It was nice to have something more as a conversational ice-breaker than the standard chit-chat about the weather and it seemed that Meera was very relaxed in front of the camera.

While Meera was patiently waiting for me to re-set the lights for the second shot, I noticed her looking at her feet, turning them one way and another.

"Nice boots!" I said, in appreciation of the beautifully stitched high-heeled ankle boots she was wearing.

There was a pause.

"I beg your pardon?" she said, sharply.

"Nice boots," I repeated, "are they new? It's just you looked like you were studying them."

"Ohhhhh, BOOOTS," she laughed. "I thought you were getting a bit personal for a moment there!"

We both laughed, partly out of relief I suspect and then I apologised profusely for mumbling behind the camera. Maybe elocution lessons should be in my immediate future.