Missing the moment
Written by John MacphersonSeveral years ago I was commissioned to photograph a Highland estate by the owners. The estate is glorious, with rugged crags behind ‘the big house’ and a long desolate glen leading off to the north beyond. One aspect that I was asked to record was the river that separates the estate from the neighbouring estate that is owned by a well-known UK politician and his wife.
I’d been asked to photograph any wildlife I encountered on my rambles and so one hot summer afternoon I struggled through the undergrowth to the river carrying a 500 f4 on a tripod, and a shorter lens on a second body around my neck. Cursing the tangling branches that grabbed at the load I was carrying and pulling me off-balance, I crashed through some dense scrub near the water and emerged onto the riverbank. To my surprise, and their horror, I was confronted by the well-known politician’s wife and her mother stark naked enjoying a bracing dip in the peat-brown water!
Their faces fell, and I just knew they were thinking ‘paparazzi’.
“Relax relax I’m photographing for xxxxx on the instruction of xxxxx!”
They were highly suspicious, and also a long long way from their clothes, which were all piled on the bank beside their towels!
So what to do? I took off all the camera stuff and laid it down where they could see it and said “That’s me naked too! I’ll just go into the trees without all this stuff and leave you to do whatever, I need a rest anyway! You can shout me when you’re decent!”
They relaxed, and laughed. And the moment passed with all of us content. Word quickly got back to my client who made a point of thanking me for my sensitivity, and this ‘inaction’ on my part helped cement our friendship and mutual trust.
I was reminded of this incident this afternoon when I read this excellent post by John Edwin Mason about Gordon Parks & Ingrid Bergman in Italy.
Sometimes being a photographer permits you access into places where using your camera is actually the last thing you need to do.
Cameras – they look both ways, portraying what’s behind them as clearly as in front. Best not forget that.
Author — John Macpherson
John MacPherson was born and lives in the Scottish Highlands. He trained as a welder in the Glasgow shipyards, before completing an apprenticeship as a carpenter, and then qualified as a Social Worker in Disability Services. Along the way he has cooked on canal barges, trained as an Alpine Ski Leader & worked as an Instructor for Skiers with disabilities, been a canoe instructor, and tutor of night classes in carpentry, stained glass design and manufacture, and archery. He has travelled extensively on various continents, undertaking solo trips by bicycle, or motorcycle. He has had narrow escapes from an ambush by terrorists, been hit by lightning, caught in an erupting volcano, trapped in a mobile home by a tornado, kidnapped by a dog's hairdresser, rammed by a basking shark and was once bitten by a wild otter. He has combined all this with professional photography, which he has practised for over 35 years. He teaches photography and acts as a photography guide & tutor in the UK and abroad. His biggest challenge is keeping his 30 year old Land Rover 110 on the road. He loves telling and hearing stories.
Discussion (2 Comments)
What! No photograph to accompany this story? You’re a good lad, John. And thanks for that link.
You’ll have to use your imagination Farhiz! Think dark brown peat-stained water with light-rippled flesh concealed beneath!