Shooting The Queen
Waiting 70 per cent, looking for parking 10 per cent, needing and finding a toilet 10 per cent, editing five per cent, drinking coffee, two per cent, needing the toilet again two per cent, and finally taking photos one per cent. This is a pretty accurate breakdown of an assignment for a Press Photographer, especially in London.
Today was no different although I do recall the toilet facilities were easily accessible.
Her Majesty The Queen was opening the Lawn Tennis Association’s new headquarters near London and I was tasked with the ‘important‘ job of photographing her plant a tree or cut a ribbon. It was possibly both...I can’t remember.
I got there several hours early as is normal to complete security checks and get my spot for this historic event. Of course everyone else has the same idea so you end up standing in a queue no matter how early you arrive. Your cameras and other equipment are screened and sometimes a sticker is placed on each item to show that it’s passed the scrutiny of security. Each camera is taken apart and examined. Battery out and look in the chamber, Lens off and look through each end. Battery back in and turn camera on. Lens re-attached and frames shot. Frames just shot are then examined on the back viewing screen of the camera. Security person nods indicating said pieces of equipment are not lethal weapons. This continues for what seems like several days until eventually everyone is through security.
This is where the tension rises. There is an unwritten rule in these carefully choreographed events that the only position worth having is directly in front of the location where the subject will stand. It does not matter if you are 10 meters away or 1/2 mile. A press photographer has a built in laser that can pinpoint to the exact millimetre where this spot is. So, as you can imagine everyone wants to stand there. I forgot to mention that this spot is almost always behind a security barrier or at the very least an official looking piece of red rope. Once security decides to release the waiting photographers from the holding location into the ‘Press Pen’ it is not unusual to see grown men and women come to blows both verbally and physically over the prime location. I confess I have been this person on occasion in my murky past.
ETA of the Queen is now around 2 hours. It’s at this point that it usually starts raining. Once everyone’s position is established, markers are put down so the claim is staked. These markers generally take the shape of camera bags or stepladders.
This can be a very tiresome procedure as you can be forced into standing shoulder to shoulder with a colleague whom you maybe don’t necessarily see eye to eye with. Constantly aware that they are edging further in to your real estate as show time nears.
I must’ve been late on this day because I clearly remember that the position I was left with was quite frankly, a bit shit. I convinced myself that this was perfect because I’d shoot something completely different from everyone else and achieve hero status the following day as my pictures were splashed all over the papers (this rarely happens.)
Finally she arrives. It’s still raining and we are all most likely soaked at this point. As she waits to perform her magic she is given an umbrella to shelter under. It’s at this point it becomes clear to all the waiting photographers that HRH is in the wrong place, or more likely we are - the pen has been placed in completely the wrong position. We are no longer front and centre but way off to the left.
I can see where the picture should be shot from but to get there I’d need to jump out of the Pen, run around 10 metres, shoot the frame while trying not to get wrestled to the ground by security and arrested. So, I do what any sensible person would do and jump the fence. It all happens so quickly that security don’t have time to reach me as I clamber back into a pit of unimpressed colleagues who have witnessed my audacious move. Needless to say security are also less than impressed by my breach of etiquette!
The ceremony comes to an end and the Queen departs, having not noticed my heroics. I file my picture which makes all the papers and goes on to win multiple awards including Royal Photographer of the Year. Hero status achieved!