To launch the re-design of this site this piece by Karen Kay, which was originally posted on social media, has been reproduced here with her permission. Karen is a broadcast and print journalist who has worked on national newspapers, magazines and as a TV and radio, correspondent, presenter, producer and pundit for 30+ years. She now runs Shoot the Messenger, a media training and communications coaching business, and is married to a long-standing member of The BPPA.
Many of my friends and professional colleagues have talked fondly of this image, probably the last portrait of our Queen, taken by Press Association photographer Jane Barlow at Balmoral as she awaited the arrival of Liz Truss, to invite her to form a government.
Do read this piece. Appreciate the work of press photographers. Full disclosure: I’m biased, I am married to a stalwart snapper, and have long observed that he and his talented colleagues across the industry are rarely given the credit they deserve. At editorial meetings, industry parties, media awards, leaving dos, on front pages and inside spreads, it’s most often the scribes who are lauded, with photographers the unsung heroes who bring our words to life or whose work stands alone to tell a thousand words.
They often operate in the most challenging circumstances, given moments to work in an unfamiliar, sometimes hostile environment, or a setting chosen by someone else, often without consideration to background, light, composition and the comfort and character of the sitter. They work under immense pressure, often with hours of boredom then a few seconds to “capture the shot” required by a waiting newsroom, who often have a pre-conceived idea of what they are expecting. If a journalist misses a moment, they can write around it, glean anecdotes from others, sometimes report using news footage from the comfort of a newsroom, their living room or a hotel room, but not a photographer. Miss it and it’s gone. From war zones to world events, from protests to political portraits, they most often the first to arrive and the last to leave.
The last couple of days have highlighted the timeless power of a beautifully composed photograph. Whether it’s a news image documenting an event or a significant moment or a posed portrait, a still captures a split second that resonates in a way that video footage doesn’t. We can pore over detail and bask in the stillness. Almost everyone I know, and every business sharing public condolences, has shared images as a mark of respect on social media (almost certainly breaching copyright law), because a particular image or set of images resonates with their memory of a much-loved monarch.
It was extremely telling that, across the TV news broadcasts announcing the Queen’s death and in the hours that followed, so much of the coverage relied on photographs rather than filmed images of the late monarch. And, of course, the front pages and content of newspapers the following day, that still provide a starkly memorable punctuation mark in history, often bought as souvenirs of a watershed moment.
TV footage (& other filmed material) is valuable as a document, and tells different stories, but it has been wonderful to see people appreciate some truly exceptional photographs taken by the greats, such as Cecil Beaton, Snowdon, Lichfield, et Al, plus an extraordinary portfolio of work by press photographers over the years, including the delightful portrait by the late Jane Bown, formerly of the Observer, who was commissioned to mark the Queen’s 80th birthday with a private sitting, when she herself was 81. The radiant, serene black and white image released to announce the monarch’s death was from that session.
I have heard so many people – from royal pundits to friends – remarking on their favourite pictures of the Queen, discussing the candid moments of her with her horses or at the races, showing a contented woman with a beaming smile, or the exquisite frames of a young princess, dressed in swathes of couture silk satin by Norman Hartnell. Then there are the poignant ones that time stamp more painful moments – how can we forget that heart-rending frame of a frail, mask-clad widow sat alone, grieving in St George’s Chapel at the Duke of Edinburgh’s funeral. I urge you all to acknowledge and remember how valuable and important good photography is as a document – easy to forget now we all have an iPhone and 15,000 – often mediocre – images in our pockets.
