Thank you to everyone who sent us lovely comments about this year’s Christmas card!

And for the numerous people who asked how we did it (or simply thought it’s all done in Photoshop) here’s how…

1. Make a ’stencil’ out of wire in the shape you’d like the light-trail to be – in this case a Christmas tree and hang it securely from the ceiling
2. Take two small children (our very own Harriet & Jake in this instance as it makes for a much easier model-release form!) and bribe them with something sweet. Chocolate seems to do the trick
3. Once children are in your control – or, at the very least, not arguing with you, set up a black backdrop (we use high-quality velvet. Costs a small fortune but its ability to absorb light is legendary) and place them in front of it with some kind of light source. For this particular shot, we used my Cateye LED lamp from my mountainbike – hence it looks like five little light-trails in the shot as the particular lamp has five large ultra-bright LEDs which also give the image that slightly blue tone
4. Set up a studio flash rig that will light your models. We used a single 1m square softbox just to the left, a flash head pointing straight at the studio ceiling (you can see it in the shots below) and a 3rd head pointing down through a honeycomb. These will need to be on a separate trigger to the camera
5. Blow the dust of your tripod, attach your camera to it and set up a remote release cable. I should point out that I hate tripods. They’re an anathema as far as I’m concerned. An evil beast that does little but suck the life out of people photography. That is, except when you need the camera to be ultra steady for more than a 20th of a second. Which we do. 12 seconds to be precise which is most definitely beyond what I can steadily hand-hold!
6. Once all of this is set, turn off all the studio lights (and the modelling lights on the flash heads) as you want to torch trail to be the brightest thing visible
7. Open the shutter on the camera using the remote release
8. Have each of the children trace the wire stencil with the lit torch pointing at the camera
9. When they’re mid-way through the stencil (or in some position you think suitable) fire the flash heads but keep the camera shutter open
10. When they reach the end of the stencil (or, in Harriet’s case, have finished ad-libbing a star on top. No-one likes a showoff!) close the shutter
11. Pay children whatever bribe you agreed
12. Then, yes I admit it, you do need just little bit of photoshop magic to remove the wire stencil from the images and to composite the two shots together into one for the front of the card

For the technically minded out there, here are the details:
Camera: Nikon D3
ISO: 200
Shutter speed: B (held open for 12 seconds)
Aperture: f13
White Balance: Flash – roughly 5500 Kelvin
Flash heads: 3 Elinchrom monoblocks – 1 point up at the ceiling, one point down through a honeycomb (you can see these in the images below) and 1 large softbox to the left of camera
Bribes: primarily Cadbury Dairy Milk


And, in case you were wondering, this was inspired by the Talk Talk ads that peppered this year’s X-Factor on ITV. You just never can tell where that next idea will come from!

Cheers P.

Well, it’s been an absolutely stunning 12 months (yes, I know it isn’t quite finished yet but, as we’re sitting here tucking into a glass of unnecessarily sweet sherry and another fabulous mince pie, it does feel somewhat like we’re at the end of the year) and I just wanted to say a huge ‘thank you’ to everyone – our clients (new and old), our friends and our family.

This is the best job in the world and we’re constantly touched with the feedback we get about what we do. We have the privilege of working with the some of the nicest people imaginable and we just want to say a huge ‘thank you’ and here’s to a wonderful Christmas and a very happy New Year.

Take care,
Paul & Sarah.
x

OK so this post is just a bit of a moan. Just very occasionally I feel that, as an industry, we sadly live up to our own stereotype – and consequently let ourselves down. And there’s no need for it.

I shot a job up in London the other day for one of the UK Government departments. A really nice job to do (we’ve worked with the events company who were managing the conference before so it was always going to be an excellent event). However, this particular conference involved children and the care system and so it was all being done with a lot of sensitivity and care.

During the show setup and rehearsal we noticed another photographer (unknown to either me or the organisers) taking pictures. So, naturally, I went and checked who he was working for and, it transpired, he was there on behalf of the venue and wouldn’t be around for the main event. OK, no problem. Or so we thought.

Anyway, the show got underway with the usual ministerial fanfare and, as the ministers and young people began presenting, we noticed our photographer friend had not left. Far from it. In fact, he got closer and closer to the stage until, ultimately, he was standing right next to me bashing away at his shutter (note that I was ducked down to avoid getting in the audience’s way – a subtlety that was seemingly lost on him.)

Now don’t get me wrong – I really love working with other photographers. But this guy was firing nineteen-to-the-dozen during the most inappropriate moments and was generally ignoring any of the reactions of the audience – and one or two of the presenters – around him.

This was an absolute nightmare – one which neither I nor the organisers could let continue in this situation as the guy had no permissions to be there and we had absolutely no idea where his photos were going to end up (the show organisers had very carefully made sure anyone I was likely to photograph had signed a release form.)

This whole thing really saddened me as I’m tremendously proud to be a photographer. It is the coolest, funniest, most interesting and privileged job I can imagine. I get to work with amazing people every day who invariably make me smile and allow me to capture memories that they’ll treasure for life. And then, just occasionally, I meet someone who, at least on paper, has the very same job but completely misses the point. It is, quite simply, not just about hitting the button and getting the image with little or no regard for those around you. It is (or it should be) so much more than that.

End of moan.

Well, we’re back on the train to London having had the best night possible in Necastle. And this train had better have some sandwiches or we’re going to be writing a letter to someone.

Last night it was an absolute privilage to be at the Master Photographer’s Association Annual Awards Dinner at the Hilton Hotel overlooking the river. It’s always a little overwhelming being at the awards as some of the biggest names in photography are there and our images are amongst them in the final shortlist for awards. It’s always a bit weird when the head of the MPA says “and here are the nominees” and then you see your image 20ft wide on screens above the stage. Weird but somewhat exhilarating!

We were proud guests of Martin Baynes and Jeremy Price from the world’s largest album manufacturer, Graphistudio , who produce many of the amazing books that we’re lucky enough to create for our clients along with some old friends of ours – Dave and Jane from Classic Photography.

Dave and Jane are an amazing outfit and a team we both love meeting up with and exchanging ideas and stories with so it was always going to be a good night! Their images were up for Parent and Child Photographer of the Year (the very same award that we received last year) and The Wedding Photographer of the Year, while we had an image for Press/PR/Commercial Photographer of the Year.

Sadly, neither of us won the overall title this time round but, hey, who wouldn’t be pleased with being runner-up in the most prestigious awards in the UK? I have to admit, we did spend a very happy night er… celebrating … our success in the bar!

So there it is for another year. And here’s to next one!

I love train travel. No, seriously, I really do.

I love the sensation of hurtling across our beautiful country. I love the gentle sway and the chit chat of passengers.

I love the excitement (as with all long journeys) of knowing in a few hours we’ll be somewhere completely different, somewhere with a different outlook and scene. And today that somewhere is Newcastle, so it’s somewhere with a completely different accent as well.

But why do train operators manage to introduce failure when all else is so good? Our seat booking has worked perfectly. Me an’ Sarah are sitting happily exactly where the paperwork said we would. And that, frankly, is somewhat of a relief as there are an awful lot of people without reservations who will no doubt be sitting/standing/sleeping by the doors for the next three hours. The seats are comfortable and there is power (Sarah is currently engrossed in Series 5 of ‘24′ while I type this) and we have the wonder of 100mph wireless. Very cool.

But then, just when I thought all was well in the world, I went to grab a sandwich and a cup of tea. Tea? Yes. Sandwich? No. Uh? How can we have paid as much as we have for tickets for a journey that will take 6 hours from start to finish and there is nothing savoury to eat. Mars Bars. Yup. Kit Kat. Oh yeah. Muffins. Plenty. But something as simple as a flipping sandwich? Nope. Nothing.

Now call me old fashioned if you will, but surely if they can get their heads around the technology of booking systems and in-coach wifi infrastructure they can muster up some bread, margarine (I would prefer butter, but let’s be real here), a few wilted leaves and a bit of cheese or something long-dead to create the simplest of lunches.

We are now stuck in a fast-moving steel tube with hundreds of people who, like us, got on a mid-morning train that doesn’t arrive until 3pm, thinking (wildly optimistically as it turns out) that food would be something that National Express (yes, I’m more than happy to name names) might just have considered.

Anyway, end of rant. Back to my tea and Kit Kat.

A short post this one but something was said to me the other day by a long-standing client – I shan’t be naming names of course but it’s a commercial client who I just love working with – who’d been forced by an agent to use a couple of incumbent photographers for some images. Now I always hate to know that I’ve missed an opportunity for a piece of work but hey, it happens and there are always going to be times when another photographer’s style or experience (or availability of course!) is more suited to a job than ours.

Anyway, my client ultimately wasn’t happy with their work – though I think they paid an awful lot of money for it – and I was booked for the next session. When I talked to them about the other work they were disappointed in what had been delivered by the other photographers and had subsequently insisted to the agency that from that point onward they would bring their own photographer – someone who they had worked with previously and trusted to get the images they wanted (their words not mine.)

Ahem, obviously on hearing this I reacted in a very professional manner and said a huge ‘thank you’ but, underneath my normally cool, suave, sophisticated ney handsome business persona I always portray (OK, OK, I admit that I may be stretching the truth just a little… Oh OK, maybe a lot…. OK, maybe an awful lot – particularly around the suave, sophisticated and handsome bit, but one has these ideals!) I have to admit I felt unbelievably flattered and very proud to be considered in such terms – it was all I could do to stop myself giving them a big hug. Something (apparently) that you really shouldn’t do to your commercial clients.

Still, it was such a lovely thing to hear!