Thursday, February 15, 2007

Hannah Starkey's best shot / Two Girls



 'It's meant to be quite a tender moment ...' Image courtesy of Maureen Paley, London

Hannah Starkey's best shot

'We were in the middle of all this craziness, and I think that got into the picture'
Leo Benedictus
Thu 15 Feb 2007

The two girls were drama students at Middlesex University and the room was in their student union. Initially, it was going to be a picture of them on the dance floor, but it was just too crazy in there - you forget how much 19-year-olds drink at the height of the evening. So we moved upstairs to the chillout area, and when we got into the room I could see the picture immediately.
The idea was to show the supportive relationship between two friends at that age. I told the girls how to position themselves, and they fine-tuned it with their own ideas - things like holding the glass while falling asleep. I didn't compose the furniture, besides bringing that curved chair into the bottom. I certainly didn't move any of the cigarette butts or anything like that.
The girls were fantastic. They weren't actually drunk, but we were in the middle of all this Saturday-night craziness, with all the music coming through from downstairs, and I think that energy got absorbed by the picture. We all seemed to work spontaneously and intuitively together.
It's meant to be quite a tender moment, like when you think "I'll just sit here for a minute . . ." and you keep your eye on your friend because she's fallen asleep. It's not that you're necessarily out of it, it's just the excitement of having a really good night.
I took the photograph in 1997; it was really enjoyable to make, and it was the first picture that I really felt was my own. What is amazing is that when I look at it now, I realise that, at the time, I wasn't very far away from those girls and what they were doing.

Curriculum vitae

Born: Belfast, 1971



Studied: Napier University; University of Edinburgh; Royal College of Art, London

Inspirations: "Lots. If you look at Helmut Newton's work, or Garry Winogrand's, or Philip-Lorca di Corcia's, you can see it's all about a universal language - everything seems balanced and right."

Pet hate: "X-ray machines in American airports. They say they can't damage films, but I have had that happen."


2018



Friday, February 9, 2007

EB White / Charlotte´s Web / Review

Charlotte's Web

BIOGRAPHY


Andrew Pulver
Friday 9 February 2007

It's hard to go wrong with a cute liddle piggy, and so it proves in this adaptation of EB White's barnyard classic, squarely aimed at alleviating half-term boredom. It maintains a good deal of charm as it exploits that by-now-familiar Babe technique of lip-synching live-action animals - though that weirdest of movie moppets, Dakota Fanning, injects a note of unutterable strangeness, playing all her scenes with a rictus grin that presumably is intended to make us think she's a sweetie-pie. It doesn't work. The usual array of topline talent fill out the voices of the assorted cows, sheep and poultry; but it's the unlikely presence of Steve Buscemi, as the garbage-wallowing rat Templeton, that proves the most inspired choice. It's not quite in Babe's league, but then very little is.




Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Margaret Salmon's best shot / María

María
Photo by Margaret Salmon


Margaret Salmon's best shot

'I just find her compelling. I love how she's bathed in white, with that innocence'

Interview by Leo Benedictus
Wed 7 Feb 2007

I met this woman, Maria, at a playground in Rome; I guess you might say I picked her up. We both had kids playing. She spoke some English, while I spoke a little Italian, and we hit it off. I convinced her that I had to film and photograph her for a project I was doing on new mothers, and in the end she gave way. She was really funny, because she didn't understand why I wanted to film her at all. She kept saying: "But why do you want me?"

I arrived the day before this picture was taken and spent some time with Maria and her family. The next morning she was still in her pyjamas, had given her daughter breakfast, and was starting to clean the house and make the bed. In this picture, I'm on the balcony, and she's just on the edge of the sunlight. It was just so serene, yet the moment was ironic, because she had a one-year-old running around, and the environment was the opposite of what you'd think.
I was using the first camera I ever owned, bought when I was 16. It's just a basic 35mm Pentax K1000, which they don't make any more. In the past, I've used all sorts of large-format cameras on tripods. But when I had my own daughter, I started using my Pentax again and taking portraits of her, being much more free, and I love it. It's so light and flexible.
A portrait like this is really all about the face and the expression, so a lot depends on the person - I just find her so compelling. I love how she's bathed in white, with that Madonna-like innocence, and yet there's a sort of frown; she's looking very serious and intense. That captured the contradiction I felt being a mother. You're not quite what you used to be, and there's also a certain darkness you have to embrace.
Maria hasn't seen the picture yet. I'll have to let her know so she can check it out, but I'm sure she'll hate it. She'll say: "I look terrible!"



2018



Friday, February 2, 2007

Writer's rooms / Hilary Mantel

 Photograph by Eamonn McCabe


Writer's rooms: Hilary Mantel

Hilary Mantel
Friday 2 February 2007 17.50 GMT

I write in the main room of our flat, at the top of a former Victorian asylum in Surrey. My desk was made in Norfolk in serviceable pine. It is arranged in layers, as a working model of my mind. The surface is dull, plain and tidy. The only ornament is a tiny, chipped pottery cat in a basket, which I hold sometimes if I am feeling bleak. In the upper drawers are half-used notebooks, fossils, crystals, seashore pebbles, a pack of tarot cards, my five-year diary, a steel measure, a stop watch and a last letter from a dead friend. The lower ones contain nothing but solid slabs of blank paper, and office wet-wipes which boast they "remove dirt and grime".
Insights don't usually arrive at my desk, but go into notebooks when I'm on the move. Or half-asleep. If I feel travel would broaden the mind, I take my laptop up a spiral staircase, to a little room under the asylum clock. Some preliminaries happen at the huge notice board in the kitchen, where I am building my new novel about Thomas Cromwell. It helps me structure a book if I can see what I'm doing. The chronological line and the flashbacks get worked out on postcards. As I narrow the focus, each postcard comes to represent a scene, and behind it I pin everything that belongs to it - tiny observations, descriptions, statistics, lines of dialogue. Then I can take it to the computer and work it through.
Some books are like singing, but this one is like fight arranging. It has to look natural but it's tightly controlled. I never stop thinking about it. All the world's a desk.


Thursday, January 25, 2007

My best shot / Rankin / Beautyfull

Beautyfull
by Rankin
Rankin's best shot 

'This was taken at a time when we didn't really care about health and safety'

'Portrait of the artist / Rankin / I wouldn't want there to be another me'



Thursday 25 January 2007 13.07 GMT


This is quite an old picture. It was for a fashion story for Dazed and Confused magazine called Highly Flammable, in 1997 or 1998.

At the time, a lot of clothes were made out of that horrible shiny nylon material. I was at a party, and my ex-wife, who was always very critical and amusingly ironic about fashion, said to me that if someone set light to these kids at the party, they'd all burn immediately. It made me think it might make for a funny set of images.
I photographed them in the studio with very soft daylight, and then I had the images made into life-size cut-outs. I did a similar thing with Pulp, where we made cut-outs of them for an album cover. Then I took the cut-outs into the street and set them alight. I just threw on a load of lighter fluid. There's lots of pictures of my assistants jumping out of the way. It was at a time when we didn't really care about health and safety.
I shot it on film, on a tripod, because it was quite a long exposure. I didn't use any flash, but there is a very little bit of retouching. I just took out the stand for the cut-out, which was pointing out of the back a little.
The photo is a bit of a dig at fashion, the shallowness and emptiness of the industry, which can take itself far too seriously. You've got to balance out the seduction and what you enjoy about it with a little bit of cynicism. I think that pervades my work in general. I'm asking, "Why am I seduced by this? Why do I like it so much?" That's what the piece is about.
Interview by Leo Benedictus

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Life and style / Amy Winehouse / You're all bastards


Amy Winehouse

LIFE AND STYLE

Q&A
Amy Winehouse
"You're all bastards"

Interview by Rosanna Greenstreet
Saturday 13 January 2007 16.41 GMT



Amy Winehouse, 23, was brought up in north London. She was expelled from the Sylvia Young Theatre School and later quit the Brit School where she was studying musical theatre. At 17 she landed a contract with Island Records and her debut album, Frank, turned platinum and was nominated for the Mercury Music Prize. In 2004, she was nominated for two Brit Awards and won the Ivor Novello Best Contemporary Song Award for her debut single. She has just released a single, You Know I'm No Good, from her new album, Back To Black. In February and March she tours the UK.


Amy Winehouse

When were you happiest?
Last night on stage.

What is your greatest fear?
Dying old or never meeting Tony Bennett; if I never get to meet him, I might as well be dead.
Which living person do you most admire?
No one. You're all bastards. Maybe Mark Lamarr for that precise fact.
What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
My fickleness and aggression.
What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Two-facedness and negativity.
What was your most embarrassing moment?
Having sex dreams about members of my crew.

Aside from a property, what's the most expensive thing you've ever bought?
My heart back from someone who may or may not have deserved it. I paid a lot.
What is your most treasured possession?
My loyalty.
Where would you like to live?
In Camden.
What would your super power be?
Super sexuality.
What makes you depressed?
Any/everything, any/everyone.
What do you most dislike about your appearance?
I wish my boobies were bigger sometimes, but I like the way I look.
Would you rather be clever and ugly, or thick and attractive?
I have no choice; I am both cripplingly stupid and hideous to look at.
Who would play you in the film of your life?
Liza Minnelli.
What is your most unappealing habit?
Being an abusive drunk.
What is your favourite smell?

Petrol and hairspray.
What is your favourite word?
Fuckery.
What is your favourite book?
Catch-22 or Pigtopia or Beyond Black.
What is the worst thing anyone's ever said to you?
I wouldn't remember.
Cat or dog?
Tiny ones in all colours.
Is it better to give or to receive?
Give - I can't receive.
What is your guiltiest pleasure?
Having my cake and eating it, too.
What do you owe your parents?
About £450,000.
To whom would you most like to say sorry, and why?
Myself for being a self-obsessed dickhead/my boyfriend for punching him often.
What or who is the greatest love of your life?
Falling in love itself.
What does love feel like?
A disease that consumes you eternally.
Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
'Pssssshhh' - or, when drunk, 'whatever' and 'dickhead'.
If you could go back in time, where would you go?
To the 60s and I'd go out with the Ronettes.
How do you relax?
Sex.
How often do you have sex?
When I can.
What is the closest you've come to death?
I was hit by a car once on my bike, but I still rode home.
What single thing would improve the quality of your life?
More sex and more gym.
What do you consider your greatest achievement?
This album.
What keeps you awake at night?
Being sober.
How would you like to be remembered?
As genuine.
What is the most important lesson life has taught you?
That you learn things every day and life is short.
Where would you most like to be right now?
In my baby's arms.
Tell us a secret.
I've got a crush on my backing singer.



Thursday, January 11, 2007

My best shot / Anne Hardy / Untitled VI


Untitled VI
2005
Photo by Anne Hardy


Anne Hardy's best shot




Interview by Leo Benedictus

Thursday 11 January 2007 10.33 GMT



I
t took about two months to set everything up in this picture, which was taken in December 2005. It's not a real place; it was built in my studio in Hackney, London. The whole space is structured around the position of the camera. It's put together as a photograph, rather than an installation. Sometimes I go back and reshoot things, moving something 10cm this way or that. The actual moment of taking the final photograph can almost seem - not an anticlimax, but such a tiny thing.

I usually start with abandoned objects I find in the street. All the old science equipment here came from a school. I put a lot of specific things into the image, without making specific references, so people can bring different things to it. There is no single explanation. I wanted to create the feeling that there are unfamiliar systems at work here. For example, maybe it was reasonable for someone to label the sections of a basketball.
I always use a similar setup for my pictures, which are taken with a medium-format camera and wide-angle lens. I try to make it look as if the light has come from within the space. In this shot, it comes from the skylight, which is intended to look like daylight, and from the red bulb, rather than anything behind the camera.
I just enjoy this picture. It's always hard to choose a favourite image, but there's something about this one that surprises me more than the others. You have certain pieces as an artist that you feel push your practice on, show you new things. It surprises me that I made this one.



Thursday, January 4, 2007

My best shot / Bruce Davidson / Girl holding kitten


Girl holding kitten
London, 1960
Photograph: Bruce Davidson


Bruce Davidson's best shot 'I found her by accident. She took me into a cave, then some kind of dancehall'
Thursday 4 January 2007 11.41 GMT

I always had a feeling for Britain. We would listen to the BBC during the war, when I had an uncle Herb who was flying a bomber, which I believe may have been from England.
In 1960, I purchased a Hillman Minx convertible, which wasn't a very expensive car in those days, and drove around England with the top down. It was an American-drive car, which was an advantage because I could snap people on the sidewalk more easily. I also had a sports coat made with the side pockets larger, so I could fit my Leicas in them.
I found this young woman quite by accident, as I was walking the London streets. I came upon a group of teenagers, and struck up a conversation. They took me into a cave, and then some kind of huge dancehall. I think it was on an island. It was getting late, and I needed to move on the next morning, so I didn't stay very long.
But I isolated this girl to photograph, holding that kitten, which was probably a stray she had found on the street, and carrying that bedroll wrapped around her body. There was a great deal of mystery to her. I didn't know where she had come from, and I didn't get her name, but there was something about that face - the hopefulness, positivity and openness to life - it was the new face of Britain.
The picture was taken with a normal 50mm lens, with a wide aperture. I used the Ilford film, called HPS - hyper-sensitive film - which I loved, although it is probably no longer made. I loved that grainy texture; she has the feeling of a statue.
I still feel close to this picture. I wonder what that young girl is doing now. She must be lurking around London someplace, or she may not be alive, you never know.


Thursday, December 21, 2006

My best shot / Gregory Crewdson / The woman was an alcoholic

The woman was an alcoholic
Pittsfield, Massachusettsby Gregory Crewdson



Gregory Crewdson's best shot


'The house belonged to an alcoholic who drank herself to sleep every night.'

Thursday 21 December 2006 

T
his photograph isn't particularly well known, and it's very ordinary in many respects, but it defined my interests as an artist. I made it when I was 25, between my first and second years at graduate school at Yale, when I was starting to try to find a language of photography that would create a sense of mystery in everyday life.

The picture was made in a house near a baseball field in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. The stadium wasn't particularly important in terms of the meaning of the picture, I was just drawn to that location because I loved the way the light illuminated the nocturnal setting.

I would wander around the area taking pictures at night, and I found this house and knocked on the door. A middle-aged woman answered, and it turned out she lived there alone. I asked her if I could photograph around her house, and she agreed. The woman was an alcoholic, and I had complete licence to wander round her house at night while she drank herself to sleep. Usually by the end of the night she'd be passed out on the couch and I'd be on the roof watching the baseball game. It was very sad.
The picture was done on a very modest scale, with none of the large production values I have now. It was taken with a 6x7cm medium format camera. The lighting is a combination of the light from the baseball field and my own lights, set up in the interior of the house to give a blueish cast. I brought the curtains with me, so that was an embellishment on my part. It makes it that bit more theatrical and that bit more domestic.
When I was making the picture I felt very alive, very directed. I had a longing for that place, so I went back a couple of years ago and the house had been torn down. It makes this image even more of a figment of my imagination.


Thursday, December 7, 2006

My best shot / Alec Soth / Melissa

Melissa
Photo by Alec Soth



Alec Soth's best shot


Thursday 7 December 2006 

T
his was part of a project I did over the course of a couple of years at Niagara Falls, the former honeymoon capital of the world. I had an agreement with this particular wedding chapel, attached to a motel called the Flamingo Inn, that I could approach newlyweds after their ceremonies.

The woman was called Melissa. I took her photograph just after she was married, right outside the room she was staying in. You'll notice that her husband isn't in the picture - it's such a difficult thing photographing a couple, because the power of a portrait is that you get to have a relationship with a person by staring into their eyes. When there are two people, it's kind of complicated - you don't know who to look at. So I realised I could separate out the couple and photograph them individually, which gives the picture a different kind of poignancy.

That quiet, expressionless expression is something that has come into a lot of my photographs. I use an 8in-by-10in view camera and I put a dark cloth over my head, so it's a very slow process, and people have to be still. I like this because I prefer the subject to be quiet and move inside themselves, so they are in a reflective state. That's part of the power of this picture, I think: she's neither happy nor sad. She's reflective, and she has this new life ahead of her.
Technically, there's nothing fancy about it; there aren't five assistants standing around me with lighting equipment. But one of the things I like to do with portraits is use the depth of field to almost carve the person out of the space. So the way the focus falls away in the background means Melissa just pops out, giving something unusually life-like to the image - in some ways you need to see an actual print to have this happen.
There's always one little detail that makes an image work, and for me it's that water in the lower left. It was raining out, and it feels like the Falls are creeping in, tugging at her dress. There's also that thing about rain on your wedding day, which is supposed to be good luck. It rained on my wedding day, and Melissa sort of reminds me of my wife, so I have this funny relationship to the image that way - one that doesn't matter to anyone else.
Curriculum Vitae Born Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1969 Studied Sarah Lawrence College, New York Career high Going into a library and seeing my book on the shelf Career low The summer I assisted a born-again product photographer Inspirations My work is often compared to the colour photographers who emerged in the 1970s. They're an obvious infl uence, but I'm equally inspired by a wide range of photographers. My answer for today is Josef Koudelka Pet hate Fish-eye lenses Ambition To produce a great book of photographs Dream subject Hermits, Scarlett Johansson, happy people, the Amazon, unusually tall people, Welsh countryside, and on and on . . .
Interview by Leo Benedictus