I’m not one to hide from my failures - in fact, I take great pride in my self-deprecation. To the extent, sometimes, that I might be accused of boasting about it. I recently quoted for, but failed to win, a commission from a leading financial firm. “They loved my photos!” the guy from the PR said. And since I don’t have a gezillion followers on any social network to force-feed my photos to, for once with a PR, I could only take what he was telling me to be true. I gave them my quote and it inevitably went quiet, though, after prompting, he got back to me and told me that they had decided to go for people who could do videos. To be honest, the prospect of promoting a financial firm had left me feeling slightly squeamish -though every man has his price - so I wasn’t too disappointed.
But it reminded me that lately I’ve been bumping into increasing numbers of people in the photo pits of London’s music venues carrying unwieldy video cameras. And many of the magazines that I shoot music photos for have been featuring embedded video. And it reminded me that I’d tried Instagram’s video feature once, but then got bored of it. It was all beginning to make me feel a bit old-fashioned. But then this morning I read a quote by William Boyd, the author. He’s talking about an album of photos that he has from his childhood and one photo in particular. He says of one of the pictures:”It’s full of images like this – snapshots, photography’s unrivalled, essential power. Time stopped, for ever.” And it makes me feel a bit better about not doing videos.
Unwieldy video cameras