If only I got paid royalties

There's not alot to the story behind this photo - like the band photo earlier in this blog, it's more a case of using what's there and the fact you don't always need all sorts of fancy lighting and/or props.

In my role as photo editor with ABC News Online - www.abc.net.au/news/photos - I am always hunting for generic photos of all sorts of things. One of the most common requests I used to get was a generic photo to go with drug stories, especially drugs in sport stories. I'd searched everywhere I could think of looking for a decent generic photo and had no luck, so I took matters into my own hands and did one myself.

I didn't have to travel far to get this photo. I was at home one night and went to the bathroom cabinet, took out a bottle of pills and found a small syringe (I was house-sitting for a mate whose wife is a doctor...seriously). I then got my bedside lamp and cleared a space on the kitchen bench. I tipped out the pills, arranged them around the mouth of the bottle, placed the syringe in the background, far enough away so it would be out of focus but near enough so it was still obvious what it was, and set up my bedside lamp on the bench so it was shining back towards the camera, backlighting everything (adding mood to the photo). There was no needle with the syringe, so I had to do with the syringe on its own, and I turned the pill bottle so the label couldn't be seen.

I stood back and fired off half-a-dozen frames. Done!

If you go to the ABC News Online website (above) and type 'drugs' into the search engine, you won't have to go far before finding this photo. It's been used a stack of times...if only I got paid royalties :)

Gear used: Nikon D100, Nikkor 18-70 f3.5-f4.5 lens, 1250 ISO, 1/125 sec f4.5.

He will do ANYTHING for a photo...

Some people are complete pains in the arse to photograph. Everything is a chore, even if they have to sit there and do sod all, or they're smart arses, or they're just plain old $%#@wits!

On the other hand, others are a total delight.

This bloke, the botanist David Bellamy, falls into the latter category.

He is my all-time champion person to photograph. He will do ANYTHING for a photo and we've (me and other photographers on the job) had him knee-deep in a duck pond and even up to his neck in a water display at an aquarium. And for both he didn't have to be asked twice. It was if he's thought of the idea himself.

Unfortunately I don't have the duck pond or the water display negatives, however I do have this.

This photo was taken on a PR job I was shooting in the mid-1990s when I was freelancing in Edinburgh, Scotland.

I was doing the job for a window frame company at, of all places, a hothouse at Edinburgh's Royal Botanical Gardens. The only reason I can think it was at such a location was because the wooden frames must have been made of recycled wood...or something like that.

Anyway, the PR company wanted me to do the job for them but also see if I could get a photo in the newspapers, who they knew I also worked for.

PR photography and newspaper photography are two very different beasts. PR is all about the product whereas, for the most part, news photography is about getting a great photo. Often the two cross paths but, for the most part, news photographers hate rolling up to news jobs that are thinly veiled PR jobs. We delight in trying our very best to make sure the product isn't in shot - anything to piss off a PR person. However, this day I had both hats on and I couldn't piss off the PR person - they were my meal ticket!

The one thing in the PR company's favour was that Bellamy was (is) a household name in the UK, meant there were a few news photographers there.

The obligatory photos were taken of Bellamy leaning through the window frame, looking out through the window frame - doing all sorts of things with the window frame. It was cheesy at best but Bellamy was his usual great self and doing whatever was asked of him, even coming up with a few ideas himself.

While the PR company loved what they were seeing, most of the other photographers were a bit restless. Even I was wondering what I could do to make it look interesting for the papers.

With the PR photos done, we all took Bellamy and wandered off into the hothouse, as a few of the other photographers had come up with ideas while I served up the cheese i.e. PR photos. I was scratching my head a bit but wasn't too stressed. At worst, I could send out the least cheesy photo I'd taken and feign sorrow if none of the papers used the photo (I'd still get paid by the PR company). Getting a photo in the paper was a bonus for PR companies but they didn't put all their eggs in that one basket.

I trailed off the back of the pack and started looking around. It was then that I saw the lovely soft light illuminating the fronds (that's what I'm calling them) of the plant you see in this photo. It was a simple idea but the thought of Bellamy poking his face through, surrounded by the fronds of the plant, really struck a chord - how apt for a botanist!

I waited for the others to finish taking their photos and explained what I had in mind to Bellamy. His eyes lit up and, before I could say 'that frond over there', he was off into the bushes. Being a botanical garden he had to be a little light of foot, but he was off all the same.

He poked his face through two of the fronds but it wasn't quite right, so I suggested another and 'bingo'!

I got in close with the wide angle lens and, while it looked okay, I knew the 80-200mm zoom was the way to go.

By now the other photographers had seen what I was doing and, as I positioned myself with the 80-200mm, three other photographers perched themselves around me, getting the same photo (they're called parrots because they 'sit on your shoulder' - we've all done it).

And that is the photo you see here. I tried him looking up, straight ahead, at me...and a few other poses, but this was the shot. The light was so beautiful and soft - from memory it was the start of winter - and bathed his face in a gentle glow.

If this isn't my faourite portrait, it's pretty damn close. This is as much as anything for the reason that whenever I see this photo of Bellamy I think of him on that other occasion we had him up to his neck in water and he was still smiling happily and obliging for all of our photo requests. A truly great bloke who understood the benefit of giving photographers what they wanted.

FOOTNOTE - I had this photo enlarged to one metre and framed, and had it hanging on the living room wall of my flat in Edinburgh. When I returned to Australia I couldn't bring it with me and donated it to Edinburgh's Royal Botanical Gardens. I hope it's still there.

Gear used - Nikon F4, Nikkor 80-200mm f2.8 lens, Fuji 800 ISO film, 1/125 sec, f5.6

"WHAT?!"

For those non-golfers among you, this is one of the legends of the game - Arnold Palmer, otherwise known as Arnie.

In 1995 Arnie had played his last British Open, which just so happened to be held at the spiritual home of golf, the old course at St Andrews in Scotland.

This photo was taken the old course at St Andrews, in 1996. Arnie was playing in a gold medal tournament (don't ask me what that means) and it was to be his last round of golf at the course. It was by no means a well-publicised occasion and the crowds that would normally be present for a British Open were absent. The media, however, knew about it and quite a few journos and photographers had rolled up for the occasion. I was photographing Arnie for the Daily Mail, a London-based tabloid.

We all arrived at the course and set ourselves up for the 'traditional' 1st hole teeing off shot. The day was glorious and, being the occasion it was, it was all quite casual and light-hearted. Arnie had one of the most distinct golf swings in the history of the game - it was more brute than beauty - but it got the job done. He teed off, we all got the shot and then we all set off down the first fairway. All the photographers stayed with him for 4 or 5 holes and then headed off...except for me, that is. I can't remember why, but the Daily Mail didn't need an early photo and were happy for me to stay with Arnie for the full 18 holes.

As the game progressed, I was getting some okay photos but I knew 'the' photo was going to be the one you see here.

This 'wee stone bridge', formerly known as the Swilcan Burn Bridge, is a famous small stone bridge at St. Andrews and spans the Swilcan Burn (creek) between the first and eighteenth fairways on the old course. It's one of the icons of golf and the previous year Arnie had stopped to be photographed on the bridge with the 18th green, the famous clubhouse, and the grandstands full of spectators all away in the distance. It was a very emotional public farewell.

Even though it had already been done, photographing him on the bridge again was the only way of locating where he was. Otherwise, it could have been any links golf course.

With that in mind, I decided to approach Arnie during the round and ask him ahead of time if he'd mind doing the photo for me.

I'll be the first to admit that I was a bit nervous - this was a legend of the game and I'd been watching him play all my young life - so it took me til about the 12th or 13th hole to figure out what I was going to say and wait until he was on his own.

Finally, I'd worked out my spiel and he was on his own, so I trotted up next to him, introduced myself and launched into my short spiel.

Without breaking stride he turned to me and, with one eye squinting and his face screwed up, said in a really loud, gruff manner, "WHAT?!"

Needless to say, I nearly shat myself.

I nervously blurted out my spiel once more.

No reaction.

Then, with eye still squinting and face still screwed up, he turned and looked at me - "YEAH, OKAY!"

It wasn't a pleasant "YEAH, OKAY!"

It came across as more of a "PISS OFF YOU %!@#...OKAY!"

My bowels nearly emptied.

He sounded pissed off. But why? Maybe he couldn't understand my accent. Maybe I should apologise. But what for?

My sensibility got the better or me and I decided leaving him alone was the best thing.

The game continued and I thought this was good as it might give him time to calm down.

As we neared the 'wee stone bridge' I felt myself getting nervous. How would he react? No matter, I had to ask him. I knew I had to get the photo. He teed off from the 18th and we all started the walk. We got to the bridge and I ran up to him.

"Mr. Palmer, I was wondering if we could take that photo I mentioned?"

He had seen me coming and, with eye squinting etc, said something along the lines and "YEAH, OKAY!"

I hate holding up anyone at the best of times, let alone a possibly pissed off golf legend, so I didn't want to take up too much of his time.

However, golf legends, pissed off or not, are also media savvy, and he walked onto the bridge, lifted his foot onto the side of the bridge, and rested on his golf club. It looked great and was exactly what I wanted. I could have run onto the bridge and kissed him!

All the other photographers had left so it was just me and a few other punters with happy snappers.

I had my two cameras with me (one with a long lens, one with a wide angle) and I took a few frames with both and I was done. I thanked him, he smiled and kept walking. If I'd forgotten to take the lens cap off or hadn't had any film in the camera, "BAD LUCK!" Arnie had 'left the building' and wasn't coming back!

I was as nervous as hell and, even though Arnie was posing for me as I'd requested, I was running on adrenalin. As a result, I kind of knew what I had but wasn't sure. I was just relieved that I'd got the shot I wanted and there was every chance it was going to look good.

The drive to Edinburgh was just over an hour and, being a glorious day, I took my time and enjoyed myself.

Back in Edinburgh, I processed my films. The shots taken on my long lens (80-200mm) looked crap without the crowd in the background, but the wide angle shots, with the burn, the grass and the blue sky as a backdrop, looked great.

The Daily Mail must have also thought it looked great and, for a tabloid, gave it a huge run in the sport pages the next day.

FOOTNOTE - I later found out that Arnie was deaf in one ear and when I had initially apporoached him on the 12th or 13th fairway, I'd been speaking into his deaf ear. Hence the continual loud, gruff "WHAT?!", "YEAH, OKAY!" etc.

I was relieved - I hadn't in some way ruined the day for this golf legend playing his last round at the spiritual home of golf.

Gear used - Nikon F90x, Nikkor 24mm f2.8 lens, Fuji 400ISO colour film, 1/500n sec, f8.

"So, you're a secret agent then?"

If you've been a regular reader of this blog, you'll know that spontaneity is a regular feature of the photos, and stories, featured here.

Meet Bill and Colin - one of my hitches from when I hitchhiked all the way around Australia, photographing everyone who gave me a lift and writing about each hitch (http://soididbook.blogspot.com.au/).

Bill (facing) and Colin (not), were my 10th hitch and they happened upon me in Tasmania. They were a couple of American guys on a three-week trip to Australia. However, they hadn't done their homework on Tasmania and had only allowed themselves two days to see the island! As a result, they were hurtling around Tasmania in the time they had. In fact, I'm surprised they had time to stop and give me a lift.

Anyway, they did find the time and, no sooner had I jumped into the backseat of their Nissan Bluebird hire car, then we set off at as close to warp speed as a Nissan Bluebird can go. After a few minutes chit-chat I spun my spiel of who I was, what I was doing and why I was doing it. They were cool and more than happy to be a part of my adventure.

During the course of the conversation I did the usual and asked them for their names, ages, where they were from and what they did. Bill, who was driving, was 30 and a computer software designer from Colorado. I duly jotted all this down.

I then asked Colin what he did. He and Bill looked at each other, smiled, and Colin turned and looked me straight in the eye - "I work for a branch of the government that doesn't exist."

My eyes widened. "So, you're a secret agent then?" I said.

He smiled and turned to face the front of the car again.

I didn't know what to make of it and the conversation moved on. I didn't want to press the issue in case he might have to kill me for passing on the information...or something equally ludicrous! Either way, I knew the photo of them was going to involve Colin being incognito.

The conversation never got back to Colin's secret agent status in the 45-minutes I was with them but I wasn't bothered as I was having too much fun.

When the time came for us to part company Bill pulled over. I had an idea of what I wanted to do for a photo, incorporating Colin's incognito 'performance' - a close up photo of their heads, with Bill looking at me and Colin with his back to the camera and the car behind them. I'd try a few variations of this idea but that was the crux of what I wanted to do.

We all got out of the car and, without saying anything, Colin leapt up onto the back of the Bluebird and stood up, facing away from me. As he did this, Bill leant against the car and the photo, as you see it here, was pretty much exactly as they had positioned themselves with little or no direction from myself.

I had been putting my bags on the ground and looked up to see them do this. I was set on the idea I'd formulated in my mind's eye but this was far better. I hadn't contemplated/pictured/factored in Colin jumping up onto the back of the car and facng away from me. It was exactly what I had wanted but more!

'Don't move!' I shouted at them and started taking photos with a couple of minor variations - Bill looking up at Colin, Bill looking at me...but all the while Colin facing away from me.

After no more than a couple of minutes the photo shoot was done and Bill and Colin sped off to discover what more of Tasmania they could in their allotted time.

FOOTNOTE - In 2009 I found Colin on Facebook and, while in San Francisco a short time later, we met up and I finally got to ask him more about his secret agent status. It turns out he's been bull-shitting me and was actually studying economics at the time. The secret agent story sounded much better. I shouldn't have been surprised and didn't really care. I'd been speaking about my hitchhiking journey for years and his "I work for a branch of the government that doesn't exist" story always got a big laugh and had helped sell many of my books at these speaking events.

Gear used: Nikon FM2, Nikkor 24mm f2.8 lens, FP4 125 ISO B&W film, around 1/250 sec f8.

'Hey Bruno, get f*cked!'

On face value, this is a rather uncoothe photo. I agree. However, the point of this blog is to show there is often a story behind a photo. And this is the case here...

In November 1992, not long after arriving in Edinburgh, I was working a shift for the Edinburgh Evening News. The photo editor approached me and said, 'I've got a job you might be interested in. Have you heard of an Australian comedian called Kevin 'Bloody' Wilson?'

I told him I had and he thrust a job sheet into my hand.

For those of you who don't know Kevin 'Bloody' Wilson (hereby KBW), he writes 'bawdy' ballads. Some might even say downright filthy, but one person's filth is another person's poetry. Either way, he amazingly popular Down Under. So much so that, without any airplay (not with songs like those he sings!!!) and initially by word of mouth alone, KBW has now sold over 3 millions records/tapes/CDs. An outstanding effort. I didn't know much of KBW's stuff at the time but what I did know was bawdy, to say the least! Here's a snippet of one of his least R-rated (more recent) songs - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZnuPeXrwFEU&feature=fvst

Back in 1992, KBW was touring the UK and had a show in Edinburgh. While there, he was sponsoring a local rugby team for their match that weekend and was going to be at the rugby club for a photo that day. Why he was going to be sponsoring the team, I can't remember.

Anyway, I set off for the club's ground in Edinburgh and when I got there KBW had just arrived. It was vert low key. The club was a small club and the clubhouse nothing much more than a glorified shed. KBW was there on his own - no PR or agent or the like. He was totally amiable and open to any suggestions, photo-wise.

I pretty much knew what I was going to do - the well cliched photo of a group of burly rugby players holding KBW as he lay in their arms, wearing the team jersey with his name (as sponsor) emblazoned on it.

We tried several takes on this theme and all was good. I was happy, he was happy, the rugby team was happy.

KBW joked around with the players and we left the club together.

As we were walking to our respective cars I told him my brother was a huge fan and asked if I could get an autograph.

'Sure!' he said, as glad as you like, and I handed him my notepad and pen.

'What's his name?' asked KBW.

'Bruno,' I responded.

And with that he wrote: To Bruno, Get F*cked (minus the *), Kevin Bloody Wilson"

I looked at it and smiled.

'He's gonna love that,' I said.

Then I said: 'Can I get a photo of the two of us as well to send to him?'

Nothing was too much for KBW and he jumped at the idea.

I had a wide angle lens on the camera and held the camera out in front of me. KBW threw his arm around me and, without prompting, thrust his middle finger into the air.

'Hey Bruno, get f*cked!' he said as I threw my middle finger in the air alongside his and snapped a couple of shots.

'Mate, he is so gonna love that,' I said to KBW, who smiled back at me. Something told me this wasn't the first time he'd struck such a pose in a photo for a fan.

'Hey,' said KBW, 'do you want to come to the show tomorrow night? I can stick a few tickets on the door for you.'

'Sure,' I said. To be honest, I was a bit dubious and thought the evening might be a bit crass. But, freebies were freebies - what the hell!

The following night I went along to the Edinburgh Playhouse with two mates, one Aussie and the other Scottish. We took our seats and the lights dimmed.

On came KBW and for the next two hours or so, we laughed our arses off. He was bawdy, he was 'blue', he was filthy - but throughout he was bloody funny. It wasn't just 'f*ck this' and 'f*ck that', as I'd expected. It was classy filth, if there is such a thing, and it was all done with a nod, a wink, a look of the eyes and a raise of the eyebrows.

What's more, the crowd all knew KBW's songs and, the Scots being the great singing nation that they are, he was accompanied by a couple of thousand others each time he launched into a song. It was fantastic!

Footnote - I sent the autograph and photo to my brother and, in the more-than-five-years I was in Edinburgh, it was the only time he rang me, outside of my birthday.

'Oh mate,' he said. 'Thanks for the photo and autograph. I've shown it to all my mates and they think it's f*cking great!'

Gear used - Nikon FM2, Nikkor 24mm f2.8 lens, Fuji 400ISO film (maybe pushed to 800ISO)

It had all happened in a blur...

In 1989, when I was a fresh-faced cadet on the Canberra Times, I was sent to a job at Parliament House one night.

I can't remember what the occasion was but all sorts of political luminaries were there, including Sir Joh Bjelke Petersen, the former premier of (the Australian state of) Queensland.

Sir Joh was a controversial figure. He'd been the Qld Premier for 20 years and had left politics the previous year in 'uncertain' circumstance. In the time he'd been in power he'd passed some dubious - some might even say draconian - laws.

My favourite was that any group of people walking down the street three-abreast could be construed as a street march and arrested. He later survived a corruption trial by the skin of his teeth when a unanimous decision was needed by the jury and it was a hung jury, 11-1. It was later revealed the foreman of the jury was a junior member of Sir Joh's political party...you can guess who the '1' was. Queenslanders were used to him, whereas the rest of Australia

didn't know what to make of him.

Anyway, I grew up in Queensland and Sir Joh was the only political figure I knew until I was 20-years-old. And here I was in the same room as him.

The event was being recorded for TV, I remember that, and there were TV lights scattered around the room.

I'd brought with me a 300mm f2.8 lens and was sat on the floor photographing proceedings up on stage. I have no idea who I was photographing.

Anyway, there was either a lull in proceedings or I was bored and began looking around the room, just seeing what else there might be on offer.

Being sat on the floor I could see very little of the room. Then, at some point, someone at the table next to me lent forward and Sir Joh came into view.

Most of the light from the TV lights were, understandably, directed at the stage area and Sir Joh was far enough away from the stage to be in darkened area. However, one of the TV lights on the far side of the room had spilled enough light so that it caught the edge of Sir Joh's face, which I could see in profile.

I swung my camera around and fired off two frames before the same person that had lent forward to reveal Sir Joh sat back and Sir Joh disappeared out of sight.

The whole room other then the stage was quite dark and I was shooting at f2.8. For the uninitiated, this meant the depth of field - the area that would be in focus - I had to work with was only going to be a couple of centimetres. If I'd been photographing Sir Joh front on and the end of his nose was in focus, his eyes wouldn't be.

I'd had seconds to take my two frames and had focused 'on the run'. It had all happened in a blur and I wasn't sure what I had.

I wasn't overly bothered as Joh wasn't the photo I was after. It was an extra if it turned out.

When I got back to the office and processed the films I couldn't believe that, out of the two frames I'd shot, one of them not only had Sir Joh in perfect profile, his eye was 'pin sharp' and the rim light better then anything I could have hoped for. It looked like I'd set up the shot in studio, sat Sir Joh down and snapped away. I wish!

I don't know what photos I gave them to use but Sir Joh's photo was one of them and I remember the photo was used small on the story along with the main photo - whatever it was.

Gear used - Nikon FM2, 300mm f2.8, Neopan 400ISO B&W film pushed to at least 800ISO.

'Now, where are my keys?'

You'd think that after 20+ years as a photographer, I'd have learnt to never leave the house without a camera. This is especially the case being a news photographer, as we all dread missing the shot of the proverbial 'plane falling out of the sky' (a shocking thing to happen, I agree, but I'm sure you know what I mean).

So, a few months ago my girlfriend and I were heading over to the house of a mate and his wife one afternoon for a few drinks and dinner. As we were walking out the door of my flat, I looked at my tiny camera bag sitting on the table next to the door and thought, 'Nah, she'll be right'.

We arrived at my mate's place and began cruising into the afternoon. They have a deck at the back of their place with a spectacular view through the Story Bridge to the Brisbane CBD. They live in one of the suburbs right next to the CBD, so everything is close and the view is spectacular. It was a cloudy day, and warm, so sitting outside was lovely.

As the afternoon came to a close, the clouds began breaking up and the Sun started peeking through. Within a few minutes the clouds had separated so that the Sun was beaming through onto the TV towers, located atop Mt Coot-tha on the western outskirts of Brisbane. Not only that, the clouds had parted so that the sun lit up in a long and narrow section of the sky behind the TV towers.I immediately thought 'panorama' and then realised my camera bag was sitting on a table several kilometres away. D'oh!

With the conversation flowing, I kept glancing over everyone's shoulders to the setting sun and the spectacular photo I was missing out on. I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera. The one time I didn't have it was the one time I needed it! The annoying thing was, I knew this was going to happen when I had thought, 'Nah, she'll be right', and I was seething.

Then I realised my mate was a photographer (der!) and I turned to him.

'Have you got a camera here I can borrow?' I said, nodding towards the sunset.

Moments later I was trailing behind him as we headed into the house. I began to breathe easy.

We went into a room where he kept his camera gear in a locked cupboard and he stopped.

'Now, where are my keys?' he asked, screwing up his face in deep thought.

My breathing suddenly became less easy. I had visions of the sun dipping below the horizon while my mate went from room to room looking for his keys and there was nothing I could do because it was my fault for leaving my goddamn camera at home in the first place! And it wasn't like I could come back and shoot the photo another day. It had to be then and there!

After much scratching of the head, my mate delved his hand into a desk drawer and brought forth a set of keys. Soon thereafter he handed my one of his cameras with an 80-200mm f2.8 lens and we hot-footed it back to the deck.

I'm a Nikon man and it was a Canon he handed me, so he gave me a couple of 'how-to-use-a-Canon' lessons in the few metres between the locked cupboard and the deck, then let me loose.

I propped myself against a palm tree handily coming up through the deck and took aim.

By now the light was becoming more glorious as the sun sank lower. The clouds opened a little bit more but the light bursting through still maintained a long narrow shape, perfect for the panorama image I had originally envisioned.

Over several minutes I fired off a couple of dozen frames, shooting tight, wide and in-between.

By the time the light began to fade I knew I had something but wasn't sure which was the best frame.

The one you see here was the only one where the Sun was visible but not so bright that it flared out the shot. I couldn't have asked for better.

You'll all be glad to know that, as I enter my 23rd year as a news photographer, I have finally learnt the lesson that, under no circumstances, should I leave home without my @!%# camera!

To see more panoramas like this, visit - www.giuliophotography.com.au

Gear used: Canon 5D, Canon 80-200mm lens, 800ISO, 1/500 sec at f8 (and thereabouts)

I dropped my camera bag...

It was 1990 and I was a staff photographer with The SUN newspaper in Brisbane.

I was working a Sunday shift and, like most Sundays, it was pretty quiet. However, there were a couple of jobs to the north of Brisbane and the boss gave them both to me.

The first was a BMX event in Redcliffe, an area on its own peninsula 40-odd km north of Brisbane. On the way back to town I had to stop off at Sandgate, a bayside suburb, and photograph a 'beach' horse race happening there - by 'beach' I mean a race along the mudflats at low tide.

I made it to Redcliffe on time and, as sod's law dictated, on the one day when I wanted everything to run smoothly, there was a delay. What that delay was, I can't remember, but there was one. Normally Sunday shifts were cruisy but with only the one beach race at Sandgate, I had to get there or else.

After waiting around in Redcliffe I finally got a photo I was happy with and made a dash to Sandgate.

I knew I would be cutting it fine but dash I did and arrived with minutes to spare before the start of the race.

I drove along the foreshore and there was quite a crowd assembled. Sandgate is a bayside suburb, so many had walked down to the water's edge. However, quite a few had driven and parking was a premium.

I drove along the waterfront, looking up al the streets leading away from the water but there were no parks. I finally found a sidestreet with a few spaces at the far end of it and sped to park the car.

I grabbed my camera bag and began running to the waterfront. As I approached the end of the sidestreet I heard the 'bang' of the starter's gun.

I picked up speed and, having made it to the end of the street, I ran across the road running along the waterfront and looked in the direction of where the 'bang' had come from. I could see the horses picking up speed at the far end of the mudflats and knew I had had to act quickly.

Normally in situations like this, I like to get to the job early, have a look around, work out the best position and set myself up. However, in this instance, I was unable to do any of this. I was going to have to do with whatever I had to work with.

With the adrenaline surging through me, and as politely as possible, I wiggled my way through the assembled crowd until I had a clear view of the mudflats, whereupon I dropped my camera bag on the ground.

Without even assessing the situation I reached into the bag and, in one motion, grabbed a camera body and my 80-200mm f4 lens, fitted the lens to the body, swung the camera up to my face, focused the lens (this was the days before auto-focus) and started firing. Thankfully I'd already used the camera in Redcliffe so the settings were set for the conditions.

By now the horses were in full stride and I pressed down hard on the motor-drive, focusing somewhat blindly as they approached where I was standing and sped past. I didn't have to time to properly compose the photo and was running on pure instinct.

I had no idea I'd taken the photo you see here until I got back to the office. It had all been a blur of adrenaline and panic.

As it turned out, this photo didn't get a run in the newspaper. The SUN was a tabloid and silhouettes were 'frowned' upon - too esoteric. A photo was used but it was a far less dramatic one I took after the finish of the race (from memory this photo may have also been used, but the size of a postage stamp).

I love looking at this photo and admiring everything about it - the beautiful composition, the silhouetted seagulls and horses in full stride, the 'beach' setting - and then remembering the mayhem surrounding it and the pure 'arse' of it all!

Gear used - Nikon FM2, 80-200mm f4 lens, HP5 film, 1/250 sec f5.6 (or thereabouts)

I was bloody cold...

This photo was taken in January 1993 in Edinburgh, Scotland. It is a favourite of mine.
Once again, it was something that came from nothing - a constant theme among the photos in this blog.
I was working for the Edinburgh Evening News and it was a particularly cold winter's morning. I was out looking for a photo to depict the conditions and was trying to avoid the usual photo of someone wearing a scarf looking cold etc.
In the middle of Edinburgh is a large 'hill' called Arthur's Seat. It's actually an old volcanic plug that rises up out of the landscape and is quite imposing. It's not really all that well known to those outside Edinburgh/Scotland, as it has to compete with Edinburgh world famous castle and a host of other more well known tourist attractions, but it's there in all its imposing glory.
Winding it way around Arthur's Seat about halfway up is a road and it was along this road I was driving early that winter's morning in 1993. When I say early and winter, I actually mean it was around 8.30am. While this isn't super early, the sun rises late and sets early during a Scottish winter, and the sun was just peeking over the horizon.
I wasn't sure what I was going to find that morning but I was driving around hoping to come across something different. Not surprisingly, not many people were out and about so I was short on finding any models to use in any photo I had in mind.
I made my way up the afore-mentioned road at Arthur's Seat and was just starting to make my descent when I looked over the edge and saw the early morning sun casting its shadow across the undulating hillochs of Prestonfield Golf Course.
'That looks nice', I thought and stopped the car.

I got out and attached my 300mm lens (on a monopod) to my camera. I walked to the edge of the road and looked down on the golf course. I sized up what I thought was the best looking photo through the camera and snapped a couple of shots. If anything, the shadows looked nice.
'All I need is someone in shot', I thought.
From where I was I could see the entire golf course, so I looked up and scanned the links. Away in the distance I spotted two players - the only two people on the course that cold winter's morning.
I sized them up through the lens but the photo looked crap - they were too far away and there was too much distracting 'stuff' in the frame. I needed them to be where I'd taken the couple of shots of the shadows.
I was bloody cold - freezing in fact - but I had nothing else to do and decided to wait and see where they went. Slowly they made their way down one hole, then the next - all the while getting closer to where I wanted them to be.
They finished playing the second hole since I'd spotted them, walked a few paces, turned in the direction where I wanted them to head, and tee-ed off. A quiver of excitement ran through me. Having tee-ed off, they proceeded to walk down the fairway in the direction of 'my photo'.
I pointed the lens where it looked best and the players walked into frame exactly where I wanted them to be! I couldn't believe it. They couldn't have done a better job if I'd (somehow) asked.
I fired off several frames and jumped for joy (I needed to - my feet were starting to go numb). I almost shouted out to them a big 'thank you'!

Unlike a sporting or news event, where something happens in a fraction of a second and you're often not sure if you've got 'the photo', this had unfolded very slowly and I knew I had something that looked good...possibly great.

There's no better feeling than knowing you've got 'the photo', so I excitedly raced back to the office and printed up a large copy for the boss. I left it with him and went home, not sure of what they'd do with it.
The following day I found out. I was working another shift for the Evening News and when I got into the office one of the photographers told me to turn to page 17.

Normally page 17 is considered a crap page to have your photo run (the further from the front of the paper the worse), so I flicked through the pages of the newspaper not sure of what I was going to see.

However, when I turned the page to reveal page 17, there was my photo filling the entire page! There was no copy - just my photo with a byline. The Saturday edition of the Evening News was a tabloid edition but, nonetheless, a full page is a full page! And none of my photos had ever been run as a full page shot before (or since).
While I will never know the identity of the two blokes in the photo, they don't know how much I have to thank them for!

Gear used - Nikkor 300mm f2.8 lens, Nikon FM2 camera (with winder), Fuji 800ISO film (possibly pushed one stop to 1600 ISO), probably 1/250 f5.6 (or thereabouts)

The backdrop was my doona cover

The thing I love about this photo is that, while it looks totally serene, the truth is far from this.

It was 1990 and a good mate of mine - the bloke on the right - was in a local Brisbane band called the Appaloosas. I wasn't a big fan of the band name but their music was pretty good.

At the time I was living in a share house with two mates - one a fellow news photographer and the other an old school friend - at Toowong in inner Brisbane.

While it wasn't an out-and-out party house, we were all in our early twenties and the house reflected this - lots of beer was consumed on a regular basis and our hangovers were treated by excursions to the local Hungry Jacks up the road at Taringa.

Being a house full of twenty-somethings, where beer and fast food were the priority, not much thought had been put into an area of the house that could be used as a studio if need be. This was despite the fact two of its inhabitants were photographers.

So, getting back to the photo, I can't remember how it came to be that it was decided to do a band photo at my house. Either way, one night they all trooped over to get a photo done.

The band showed up and were keen to do something similar to the 'Meet the Beatles' album (http://bit.ly/hJofmP), so 'dark' was the theme of the shoot. When it came to choosing locations, we looked at the limited options on offer and decided upon the dining room which was, at least, a room unto itself. We pushed the dining room table and chairs to one end of the room and the band stood up against the wall opposite the table.

The lead singer's partner and toddler had come along too and the toddler, not quite into the whole band photo 'thing', decided to make the table and mish-mash of chairs into an imaginery world and was in kiddy heaven.

If we'd been in a proper photographic studio, there would have been an equally proper black backdrop - preferably material. Being a dining room, however, there was no material - not even a set of curtains - so I had to do with what was on offer. In this case, my navy blue doona cover.

I upset the toddler and took one of the chairs from his imaginery world so I could fasten my doona cover to the wall with the help of some masking tape and a few tacks.

I wanted to get some height for the photo (eye level photos are, invariably, boring) so, realising by now the toddler had forgotten his imaginery world was one chair down, I kept the chair I'd borrowed to use as the step ladder I needed.

The lighting in the dining room consisted one bare, stark light. As far as studio lighting went, it was horrible - crap, even.

I was using an Nikon FM2 and my flash 'set up' in those days was a Metz-45 flash. For those not in the know, the difference between a Metz-45 and the flashes used nowdays is similar to the difference between the first, house brick-style mobile phone and the sleek works of art available today.

The Metz-45 was a massive contraption that was strapped to the side of the camera via a bracket (it's not a Nikon FM2, but similar to this set up - http://bit.ly/hDaFzQ - scroll down to the first photo).

I stood on the chair and sized up the scene. Direct flash (the flash head pointed at the subject) would have left horrible shadows behind the subject, so I pointed the flash head at the ceiling just above my head and used 'bounce' flash to soften the light. I now started shooting, trying several variations of the same theme - 'try looking here', 'try looking there'.

After a dozen or so shots I knew I had something pretty good. The set up was basic but with a bit of work in the darkroom (this was pre-Photoshop days), I knew I could get a great photo, which is what I got.

I know it's not the first time a band has been photographed this way but I love it because, while it looks like the sort of photo I'd have taken if we were in a proper studio, the fact of the matter is:

1. We were in my dining room.

2. I was standing on a chair.

3. Behind me was a dining room table and chairs that had been pushed to one end of the room.

4. My two house mates and the partner of the band's singer were standing next to me looking at what was going on.

5. Their toddler was running around us all...that is, when he wasn't playing in his imaginery world under the dining room table.

6. The 'moody' lighting was my Metz-45 flash bounced off the ceiling a few centimetres above my head.

7. The backdrop was my doona cover.

Whenever I look at this photo I see serenity but I always think of the mayhem going on around me.

Gear used: Nikon FM2, 24mm f2.8 lens, HP5 400ISO B&W film, Metz-45 flash, 1/250 sec, f8.



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