part v: One hundred and fifty two things that can go wrong on a shoot

How many things can go wrong on a shoot... My photographer friend Lucy told me that David Bailey and Richard Avedon starting listing them and gave up once they got to 150. I tried to verify the truth of this anectdote but my research yielded nothing. It was probably some bullshit story that Lucy's photography tutor made up to scare her into being 'ultra-prepared' which is no bad thing if it works. 

It seemed to work for Lucy: it instilled in her a paranoia that meant she even backed up the back up camera. Saved her bacon on a couple of occasions too.

But check this...

I'm supposed to shoot (for a Busness Magazine) the CEO of a large respected corporation. He is being interviwed by a respected journalist from a very respected newspaper and my brief is too depict that interview as it happens. You know, the kind of fly on the wall thing capturing all the emotions and reactions of the interviewee in response to the questions... and to shoot some wide aperture shots over the interviewers shoulder so that there's some perspective... 

Kinda important that the journalist doing the interview shows up, No! I thought so too, but not the journalist. He decides on the morning  that he wants to do a phone interview instead. Doesn't matter to him that the format of the feature requires that he be there in the room in the pictures... No! He wants to do a phoner.

And guess what? When I ring through the palava to the magazine they still want me to go ahead with the shoot and suggest I ask the CEO to pretend that he's being interviewed. Yeah right, you can imagine it...

"Excuthe me Mr CEO will you just sit down there and talk to your imaginary friend while I photograph it."

"Ok." He agrees. Can you believe it. Tuns out to be a real nice bloke too, and so we have a laugh and make a joke about this ludicrous situation we find ourselves in and I get a good feeling all is going to be well, when I discover the problem with the power supply to the boardroom. After a couple of shots my flash heads won't work I try all the other sockets, I swap flash heads, swap synch leads... same shit.

I curse under my breath and ask why? why? why? With no assistant (really low budget couldn't afford to take one) I have to figure this one out alone and pretty fast. Fortunately I have been schooled in the Lucy school of paranoia: so despite taking enough lights and softboxes to do a Vanity Fair cover gatefold, I had still packed my trusty portable 580ex flashgun. It doesn't look impressive but it packs enough of a punch and fortunately I manage to get the shots I need.

Paranoia can be a beautiful thing.

This week Erroll; Watched American Gangster and listed a load of underused photographic equipment for sale on ebay. Get a bargain.

Part iv: Shooting my ex-employers

Beware the Ides of March... to be frank it couldn't have been any worse than January and February which were so dead a weaker compulsive careerist would have found themselves instinctively reaching for the alternative employment folder.

I'd been telling my wife that my regular commissions would be coming in imminently and that my networking and one man marketing campaign would start to reap dividends. It is with some great relief that I have been proved right for this month I've shot portraits, round-tables, business seminars, as well as doing some freelance design work. I've even managed to fit in some pro bono - photographic not legal - for my ex-employers.

I had left my art directors position on good terms and had received a decent redundancy package so felt I owed my ex-CEO, Mike a favour. I offered to do some portraits of him and his fellow directors and he said he would take up the offer once the current pictures needed updating. Well my ex-CEO Mike is now the ex-CEO of my ex-employers but my ex-employers remembered my offer and asked if it still stood.

Although I am fully expecting Mike to also call in this favour once his new business is up and running my offer still stood. It's not like I'm busy and in this game you can never get too much practise. And that is how I found myself last week with my assistant H in very familiar surroundings doing a freebie. H incidentally is a BA pilot - so you see it's not just me.

I shot clean 'safe' portraits against a white wall which would be perfect for PR shots and then did another set on a black cloth backdrop with a bit more mood and thus more versatile. I was initially booked to shoot 3 directors but a couple of the editors were added to the list which was fine but meant that the pace was pretty hectic. I said to H after that not all shoots are 'like the ones he'd assisted me on which have tended to be a bit conveyor belt.

How I long for a single person shoot where the sitter invites me to their local we share a pint and a bite, get to know each other, discuss the type of shots we're trying to achieve then go back to their home and shoot iconic shots that will enhance my reputation and boost my bank balance through world-wide syndication rights. But Annie (Liebovitz) tends to get those and even she's skint!

Anyways I've posted a picture from the session of Amy Carroll who wasn't part of the original trio to be photographed. She is the editor of Real Deals magazine – a venture capital and private equity publication. I'm tempted to try and intellectualise the image and say that when set against the testosterous private equity boys club in which she plys her trade Amy appears vulnerable...  and that if you look closely you will see that there is a toughness about her. But that would be a little disingenuous. I simply like the way the lighting works on her quite amazing eyes.

This week Erroll has; watched a few episodes of The Wire Season 4; downloaded the new Prodigy album Invaders must die and played Lego Star Wars with his two kids.

Legally trained ex art director poet seeks work as photographer part iii

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THERE MUST BE MORE TO LIFE...
So what happened next? After what I call a few 'wilderness years' I did a visual communications degree and became an editorial art director. After a few years of this I found myself thinking this isn't a career that I want for the rest of my life so I decided to be a lawyer. Why? Partly because I’d always been fascinated by politics and the rights of the underdog; partly because I was blown away by Billy Bragg on Question Time ranting (quite eloquently) about why Britain needed a written constitution; and partly because when I'm seeking entry through the pearly gates and St Peter asks me what I did with my time on earth I ain't going to be ashamed to say I was a legal aid lawyer.

Some five years after making that decision I took voluntary redundancy to help me get through my last few legal exams, and to supplement my redundancy pay I started doing a 'little bit' of paid photographic work. Which kinda brings me up to date.

And what of all those ambitions? Short-term I aim to pursue law on a voluntary basis probably working one day a week at a local law centre. My poetry I aim to self publish when I find the time. My visions of rock stardom have entirely evaporated and all should be pleased to know I have neither intention nor desire to revive them.

Which leaves my photography. The 'little bit' of paid photography snowballed into quite a bit of paid photography. We're not talking telephone numbers, far from it but coupled with work life balance benefits it is rich reward and I'm loving it, really loving it but recessions... bit of a pisser aren't they.

So yes, if you could please pass the word, "legally trained ex art director poet seeks work as photographer."

Legally trained ex art director poet seeks work as photographer part ii

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THINK OF THE MONEY
The extent of my ambitions were further revealed when I applied for and got a job at Freemans mail order warehouse. I was posted in a windowless room and sat at an individual table that housed the tiniest printing press for printing packaging labels. It was a bit like the film version of George Orwell's 1984 drab and colourless with with barely any conversation. However the substantial increase in wages was my motivation and I learned to love that little hell hole.

LEGAL HISTORY
Elsewhere in the warehouse sisters were indeed having to do it for themselves when they found out that they were being paid less than the male employees for doing the same job. There claim for equal pay went all the way to the House of Lords (Pickstone v Freeman) who found in their favour. I wish I could say that this was a significant and contributing factor in my wanting to be a lawyer, but it wasn’t.

Meanwhile I got pretty good with the camera but more importantly I was confident. My confidence was probably completely disproportionate to my talent, but I figured I must have been doing something a wee bit right because the work kept coming. I became the firms unofficial social photographer. If any of the workers were getting married or having a christening or just wanted a portrait doing I was often their first stop.


CREATIVITY v LIFE ASSURANCE
My poetry co-existed nicely with my other creative outlet – bass player in a nine piece reggae band called Studio Rockers. Radio readings and wine & poetry evenings amidst the middle classes massaged my ego and led me to think that maybe I could make a living out of this. The band's gigs were selling out; we were getting paid enough money so that even after a nine way split all members were happy. I was certainly on the right path.

It was all moving along nicely until a loud-mouth entrepreneure called Ziggy came into my life and decided I could and should be doing better. Hindsight is a beautiful thing because what could have possibly been better than what I was doing at the time. Anyways Ziggy bought me a suit and a briefcase gave me instructions then drove me to an interview where I freely sold my soul and accepted a job as a life assurance salesman. Don't ask.

But you know what, I loved it. For a year I earned what was colloquially referred to as ‘loadsamony’ and decided that Yuppiedom was where it was at. I bought a near new Audi Coupe after my 2nd months pay cheque (despite not being able to drive). And on my boss's promise that I'd be worth a quarter of a million pounds within 2 years if I stuck with him, I downed all creative tools and left my band.

When My boss persuaded me to move to Hull with him and set up an office I followed blindly. The reality however was that the company I worked for (FPS then latterly General Portfolio) was little more than one big pyramind selling scheme that would eventually implode. It ended in tears for me and most people involved but on the plus side it led to a whole heap of legislation and regulatory bodies (LAUTRO through to the current FSA) to regulate what was the ultimate cowboy industry. It also means I get to tell this ridiculous story of how I left a quite brilliant band to sell life assurance.

Legally trained ex art director poet seeks work as photographer part i

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AMBITIONS
I guess it’s because I’m a Libran. You know scales, indecisiveness and all that. I mean how many careers can one person want in one lifetime.

I didn’t start out with any great ambitions nor have I really acquired any along the way. My principal aim once I'd left school was to be a clerical assistant in the civil service. Wow! that's some ambition. But you needed O’level English for that… which I didn’t have in the required grade. Got a Grade A in History mind but who gave a fig. This was Peterborough in Maggie Thatcher's Britain. There were zillions unemployed and I had to accept that a solitary history O’level (grade A or not) wasn’t going to push me to the front of too many job queues.


PROPER JOB & NEPOTISM
So, it was youth training schemes for me, and I guess I hit the jackpot when one of them morphed into a ‘proper’ job. It was at a secondary school as reprographics assistant to Jerome, a French hippie genius. It was he who gave me my first camera (a broken Praktica Super TL) and it was he who helped me to publish my first booklet of poetry. Hi I’m Erroll who the hell are you?

When Jerome left to take up a teaching post he was replaced by ‘nice guy Nick’ whom I recall was married to one of the teachers, which is very helpful if you're applying for a job you know nothing about and Nick knew nothing at all about the job he was hired to do. Guess which lowly paid fool had to train him. Now I’ve never had a problem with nepotism (some of my best friends are nepotists) but this was absurd; at least give me a slight increase in salary to lessen the pain. Even someone as green as I knew that I was being taken for a ride. I resigned.

A few teachers protested (really) and wanted me reinstated on a proper salary which was really sweet but I was never going to change my mind. I wanted to be a rock star, (didn’t I mention that one) a photographer and a poet. Pen and paper I could afford but I needed amps, effects and elinchrom flash heads and my current salary clearly wasn’t cutting it.