Photos by Phoenix

Judging a book

Sometimes the truth is unpalatable. Ask Galileo. But once the nettle has been grasped, understanding, progress and revelation can follow. The truth is, Gillian Evans’ new book has neither the catchy title nor the cover of a bestseller; but that just goes to prove the adage about books and covers, because it’s clear this book is causing quite a stir.

I’ll leave it to the social commentaries in the broadsheets to battle it out about the content, but I will say there were some very interesting people at the book launch, and I only wish I’d had time to chat with more of them.

It’s clear a lot of time has gone into the preparation of the book; I guess only time will spell out its legacy.

Taking to the streets

And... we're off. The gathering of 13 disciples left the Angel (pub on the riverside) and went forth to petition the people. Andy, Nick and Paul take to the streets to begin distributing a survey to residents in the Southwark constituency. It's all part of the Sunday service, which is more than we could say for the fish and chip shops when we finished. Back to the pub then.

The Naked Politician

In the words of President Bartlett: “What’s next?”

Well, from drama to politics. With the shooting of Mr Johnson in the bag I thought the next thing in the diary would be Moscow Fashion Week, but hell, there’s still time to squeeze in another completely unrelated project….

There’s an idea I’ve been wanting to pursue for a while, and the possibility of making a start came up today over coffee with my brother. Paul is councillor for the The Tower Bridge Constituency in London, and is very committed and passionate about his responsibilities. We’ve always felt that depiction of politicians in the media is staged, always dressed up in some agenda. We want to undress it.

These are people hopefully doing something they believe in. Take away the spiel and dogma, and who are they? I want to find out. Simple as that. At large in the constituency, back at the office, the moments before, after and in-between. Who are they really? What does a typical day involve? What kind of person wants to take this on?

The everyman modern armour of our elected representatives seems to be spin and semantics. What makes such defensive evasiveness seem appealing or necessary? Let’s see if a picture or several can replace a thousand words and give a deeper insight into the people and the process. And let’s see who steps up to the challenge; I’ll step into the ward if they will step clear of the wardrobe. Watch this space.

The real thing

There's something special about film. And there's so much I want to say about it. But it's kind of all there to see, really. For all the wonders of digital, this is what it can't do.

Maybe some time in the future; but actually I hope not. I love the excuse to use the Leicas, and knowing there's no other way to get this feel is all the excuse I need.

Decorum takes a tea break

Well, it's 2am, and I'm just sifting through the crew shots, and I thought I'd have a cup of tea and a break, and maybe play a little with one or two of the images. You don't mind, do you? You know; just kick back and forget about subtlety, authenticity and such like... ;-)

Oh, well...

It's a chemistry thing. Alchemy, you might even say - and this would certainly be the city in which to say it. No, no, no; none of that Photoshop tomfoolery here. This is oldschool.

First, find the right film. Then do some slightly weird stuff with exposures. Then subject it to the wrong chemicals. Give that film something it really doesn't expect. And eventually you might get vaguely predictable results. Just vague and unpredictable enough to be surprising and keep you on your toes.

I found that film and process in England. You want blues? We can find blues:

You want golds, for that balcony sunset? No probs:

Maybe a bit of greenery on that album cover portrait?

Ahhh. Luvverly. And not a sniff of Photoshop trickery anywhere near them. There's only one problem: I can't get the film.

No one sells it in the Czech Republic, and I've run out. I've tried Kodak and Fuji - fine, if you want everything bright green. And I tried a Czech brand (with packaging in German, but 'Made in Japan' written in English - a sure sign of a nice generic little number, thought I) and I do love the red and pink thing it's done to Klara and Jeffery in the top photo, but thats.... er..... all it does. Any colour you want as long as it's RED.

It's a real shame, cos I wanted to use this garish alchemy for the bling shoot tomorrow, but I'm running out of films to try. Guess I'll just have to nip back to London and fill a suitcase with film.

Hope there'll be just a little space left for all the books the airport made me take out last time....

Kicking off at full-time

Oh, yeah, it's kicking off now.

But I'm confused: which is the real Mr Johnson? We have more than one couple here, and more than one Mr Johnson, and.....

er..... this guy seems to have all the girls, and I'm pretty sure he isn't Mr Johnson at all....

It could turn nasty....

Oh yeah, it's all kicking off now....

That's Jazz.....

a few more shots

Well, the weekend has come and gone, and I still haven't got the crew shots up. But just so you know I haven't been slacking, check out the cast shot album on the left, where there's a bunch of new images. Big day of shooting tomorrow (well, today, actually, in about two and a quarter hours) at the Jazz club. Lots more shots from that. And then maybe I'll get some crew shots done...!

Shooting Mr J

So here’s the thing. I’ve been shooting the wonderful new feature film that is ‘The Wrong Mr Johnson’ for a couple of weeks now, and although most of my time is spent resting my arse while the real filming is done, now and again I leap up and grab some stills. Since time is short I tend to adopt an AK47 stance. (Coincidentally, the best ‘47s were made right here. It’s the kind of information one should store in a safe compartment at the back of one’s mind.) What this means is that despite a total shooting time of about ten minutes in two weeks, I’ve got bloody hundreds of images.

I’m not complaining; it’s a good problem to have. But it does take a time to sift through, especially when the film stock for one shoot comes back when I’m processing the digital shots from two shoots later.

So here I am at 03:37, and I haven’t even begun to upload the shots to the site like I said I would.

I really want to get some up, to share it with the crew and those of you who know me and have been wondering why I haven’t phoned or emailed for a while. But I think it’s going to be one of those ‘work-in-progress’ sorts of things. So I’ll put some shots up into an album on the left hand margin, but do check back now and then, because I’ll update it as I go. I’ll also try to pop a couple of shots from each day onto the body of the site if I can, a bit like this.

Or even this – can you believe this is the inside of a police station? Red marble everywhere…

Anyway, you get the picture. Or at least you will over the next few days…

Complicity

I’m not a great fan of Big Brother. The concept or the show. I have a problem with the intrusion of cameras. No, really.

Reality TV? Make an artificial house, full of cameras constantly recording, take a group of strangers and incarcerate them there, knowing that everyone outside is watching. And don’t pick average people – that’s boring. pick misfits, clowns, sharks and the vulnerable. Because it’s got to be entertaining. Yeah, that’s real.

An interesting psychological study? Psychological insight is where you find it, my friend. This is just good old British Prurience. Curtain twitching exalted. The Victorians would spend a diverting Sunday afternoon (after church, of course) rattling the bars of the loonies at Coney Hatch, or Bedlam. Aren’t they funny?! And I’m sure there were insights and pathos there, too; but that wasn’t the reason for going there. My, how we’ve changed.

But it is perhaps ‘real’ at one level: I think it represents an aspect of culture faithfully. I heard recently that there are more CCTV cameras in Britain than in any other country in the world. Yes, even more than America (which is rather bigger, let’s face it). That’s why this picture tickled me. Yes, we’re filming you. You don’t get to see us, or even know who ‘us’ is. But look, old chap, play fair.

We can’t quite see you in that cap; would you mind taking it off, awfully?