My friend Glynn

Glynn Griffiths my wonderful friend, a friend as close as a brother, my touchstone                     in all matters of life, has died. Glynn was 67 and leaves behind his                beloved daughter Georgia and Annie his soulmate.

Brian's book launch day by Brian harris__1010038

Glynn at my book launch in the Hoop and Grapes pub just off Fleet Street, London, May 2016

 

Glynn had just started out on the next stage of his eventful life. He had his sculpture studio in Cheltenham where he made so many of his impossible dreams involving mother-earth and man-made come to life.

He recently bought a campervan before buying ‘Haddie’ his beautiful house boat moored at Hebden Bridge. For the first time in many years he had his entire ‘Art Book’ collection out of packing cases and on shelves waiting to be read….in short Glynn was chilled out and happy.

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, 'Gravity & Balance' at The Ho

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, 'Gravity & Balance' at The Ho

Glynn Griffiths with his daughter Georgia at his Exhibition – ‘Growth, ‘Gravity & Balance’ at The Horse Box Gallery, 50 Grosvenor Hill, Mayfair London.

 

I knew Glynn for nearly 30 years since he came to this country from his native South Africa with his wife Annie back in the mid 1980’s. He came from Jagersfontein a small town in the Free State and trained as a photographer on the Cape Times. Although his yearning was for the Veldt of South Africa, he was a British subject, and proud of his family roots in South Wales.

 

Glynn Griffiths in 1997 ?

Glynn in the Canary Wharf Indy offices in the 1990’s

 

Glynn was an established photographer of some note in SA and upon arriving in London he had little trouble getting photographic assignments from the British press based then in Fleet Street. He started ‘shifting’ for the London Evening Standard while living with Annie in a campervan parked up on the South Bank in the centre of London. Before long a photo editor recognised Glynn’s ‘artistic photographic’ talents and suggested that his style of photography would be more suited to the newly launched ‘Independent’ newspaper.

Glynn Crossroads squater camp BH8_0624

Glynn was taken aboard the fledgling ‘Indy’ first as a freelance and then onto the staff. He covered the usual gamut of assignments for a daily national newspaper: portraits, hard news, overseas stories and soft features.

Following the Kings Cross fire tragedy where over 30 people died Glynn made one his most definitive images of Kwasi Afari Minta, who was severely burnt but survived. The picture won Glynn a first prize in the prestigious World Press Photo Awards.

Kwasi Afari Minta

In 1988, he covered the Clapham rail crash close to his then home in south London where 35 passengers died. His powerful picture was the first to cover the entire front page of the paper, Glynn had well and truly arrived and made his mark. He became known for his quiet observational intelligent photography and was trusted to make ‘something’ from nothing. In October 1989, he was sent to cover the San Francisco earthquake where over 60 died and thousands were injured. During just a matter of hours on the ground he produced a fine coverage resulting in a front-page news picture and a back-page photo spread.

Glynn covered the transitional elections in Namibia and South Africa. He spent time on Mount Athos communing with the monks and making a fine set of quiet contemplative images there but perhaps Glynn’s most recognised and almost certainly his most favoured photograph was of Nelson Mandela at his final election rally in Cape Town during the first all-race South African elections in April 1994.

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Nelson Mandela photographed by Glynn and published by Gerry Brakus in The New Statesmen in 2013

 

Glynn was one of the sweetest most charming of men in the tough world of news photography. He made friends with most that he met…I have never heard a bad word against the man, few can be as well liked in our business.

xThe Indy Guys in B&W at the Kalamazoo Club by Brian Harris 190915_1008453

Glynn Griffiths on the left, with on the back row, David Sandison, myself Brian Harris, Mykel Nicolaou, and Guy Simpson and Laurie Lewis in front…photographed by my son Jacob S. Harris at the Kalamzoo Club in London.

Independent Newspaper Photographers night out. 29 Oct 2015

Photograph of Glynn with his Independent Newspaper photographer friends at one of our London based memory lane evenings. L-R: Back row Tim Sanders the Indy cartoonist, Nick Turpin, John Voos, Glynn Griffiths,member of the band,Craig Easton in glasses. Front row: Laurie Lewis, Brian Harris, David Sandison, Kay Richardson, Guy Simpson and Tom Pilston…photographic selfie made by precariously balancing my very expensive Leica M9 on a wine bottle.

Laurie, Glynn, Guy and John Nov 2016 -

A charming quiet evening in an Italian eatery in Camden, London with Laurie Lewis on left, Glynn Griffiths, Guy Simpson and John Voos…I’m behind the camera

Independent Newspaper Photographers night out. 29 Oct 2015

Glynn and John Voos catching up at yet another photographers night out in London

A collection of photographs showing Glynn top left at the 30th Indy Foreign desk bash at the Frontline Club, with David Sandison at my book launch, at a gallery gig in east London where Glynn showed off his major piece made from nails and scorched wood and meetin’ and greetin’ at yet another opening…

After leaving the Indy in the late 1990’s to once again pursue a freelance career Glynn took up freelance picture editing and left London with his family to live in Cheltenham.

Glynn Griffiths Solo Art Exhibition at the Parabola Art Gallery,

Glynn Griffiths Art Exhibition at the Parabola Art Gallery, Cheltenham, England. Work by the artist Glynn Griffiths

Glynn Griffiths Solo Art Exhibition at the Parabola Art Gallery,

Glynn Griffiths Solo Art Exhibition at the Parabola Art Gallery,

Specimen 1101, Beech, polypropylene rod, pyrographic markings at the Parabola Art Gallery, Cheltenham, England. Work by the artist Glynn Griffiths 

Glynn Griffiths Solo Art Exhibition at the Parabola Art Gallery,

Glynn Griffiths Art Exhibition at the Parabola Art Gallery, Cheltenham, England. 

Glynn became frustrated with the limitations as to what he could achieve visually just by using a camera…photography per se began to bore him, photography was merely the means to an end and the end became the motive for Glynn’s next endeavour.

In his early 60’s Glynn went back to school…to Wimbledon College of Arts where he studied for an MA in Sculpture. His work involving ‘mother nature and handmade product’ was challenging to the uninitiated. His references were the deserts of his homeland in South Africa, he was excited about dry bones, a feather, a scrap of wood or iron weathered by the elements which he used in assembly’s contrasting with Perspex, cable ties, nails and hardware bought from his local store.

He sold several pieces, one piece made to order for a client in America and more through various galleries in London and Cheltenham. In the mid 2000’s he was awarded the Clifford Chance prize and exhibited in their Canary Wharf offices receiving much praise for the scope of his work.

Glynn is seen below installing his work in the plush Canary Wharf offices of Clifford Chance…photographed by David Sandison ©

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, 'Gravity & Balance' at The Ho

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, ‘Gravity & Balance’ at The Horse Box Gallery, 50 Grosvenor Hill, London.

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, 'Gravity & Balance' at The Ho

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, ‘Gravity & Balance’ at The Horse Box Gallery, 50 Grosvenor Hill, London.

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, 'Gravity & Balance' at The Ho

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, ‘Gravity & Balance’ at The Horse Box Gallery, 50 Grosvenor Hill, London.

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, 'Gravity & Balance' at The Ho

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, ‘Gravity & Balance’ at The Horse Box Gallery, 50 Grosvenor Hill, London.

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, 'Gravity & Balance' at The Ho

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, ‘Gravity & Balance’ at The Horse Box Gallery, 50 Grosvenor Hill, London.

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, 'Gravity & Balance' at The Ho

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, ‘Gravity & Balance’ at The Horse Box Gallery, 50 Grosvenor Hill, London.

Glynn Griffiths Exhibition-Growth, 'Gravity & Balance' at The Ho

Glynn Griffiths with his daughter Georgia at his Exhibition-Growth, ‘Gravity & Balance’ at The Horse Box Gallery, 50 Grosvenor Hill, London.

 

In the mid 2000’s when both Glynn and myself were going through our own personal crisis we both talked our problems through with long conversations as he commuted by motorway from Cheltenham to London…I called them our M4 chats. We started a photo-exchange where once a week we would make a photograph, print it and write something on the print about our thoughts for that day. We kept this going for over two years and I have over 100 original Glynn Griffiths photographs and drawings all signed and annotated…some of my most precious possessions.

The photographs below are all © owned by Glynn and are reproduced in the form as presented to me, ie a small image on an A4 size piece of paper, hence the large amount of white showing at top and bottom of image.

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I asked Glynn to help me photo edit my auto-biographical book in 2014-5. We spent several days in the cold of my garage going through hundreds of proof prints before getting my selection down from and unmanageable 2000 images to an almost manageable 3-400 photographs.

Brian Harris book editing by Picture Editor Glynn Griffiths

Glynn editing down the thousands of images to a manageable 400 plus for my book…we finally got it down to less than 200.

Some months later myself Glynn and designer Professor Phil Cleaver spent many 18 hour days and nights moving images and words around on screen and in hard copy before finishing my project at the printers. Not a bad word was said, not an argument, just complete calm…without Glynn I would still be shuffling my work about completely lost in the confusion of editing.

Brian Harris book editing with Professor Phil Cleaver of et-al D

Glynn and ‘pooch’ editing Brian Harris’s book ’…and then the Prime Minister hit me…’ with Professor Phil Cleaver of et-al Design

Brian Harris print day for '...and then the Prime Minister hit m

Glynn at Geoff Neal Printers in Feltham, west London checking the print quality

 

Glynn had many who loved him: fellow photographers, editors, photo editors, his family and friends in South Africa, his drinking pals in Cheltenham, Glynn was not a drinker – preferring a half pint of beer or a glass of red wine with some good conversation and fine home cooking

Glynn Griffiths in Thaxted.

Glynn Griffiths enjoying our wonderful Lasagne and several bottles of Montepulciano at our home in Thaxted…watched by his new best friend, Thelma

Glynn Griffiths and Thelma Niv 2014 5326

Glynn mellowing in our home with Thelma…the other cat

 

…Glynn was the arch polymath, he was a photographer, an artist, a sculptor, a cartoonist, a photo editor

 

Some of Glynn’s wonderfully dry wit showing through in his cartoons

 

…he could mend things and make things… only a month ago producing a fantastic sculptural piece consisting of a hill of bicycles, seen below, that occupied a roundabout in Cheltenham to celebrate a Round Britain Cycle Race.

Bikes by Glynn

Glynn was just so many things…he was in fact a renaissance man through and through, with his ‘hippy’ clothes and ponytail, his grey beard and funny hat.

GLYNN GRIFFITHS BLUE BH2_0084 Striking a pose as W.G. Grace

Glynn Griffiths

…and with his ‘Pooch’ at his studio in Cheltenham. Photograph by Tom Pilston ©

…and seen here photographed by David Sandison in 2009…at Cannizaro Park, Wimbledon, as part of the PARK09 exhibition

Only a couple of weeks back he came down from Hebden Bridge in his motorhome to help me celebrate my 65th birthday in Southend-on-Sea with my partner Nikki and my son Jacob. We enjoyed the ‘best fish and chips in the world’ and walked the ‘prom’…we enjoyed the penny arcades and Glynn was happy.

Brians 65th birthday Southend 2017_L1013817Brians 65th birthday Southend 2017_L1013805Brians 65th birthday Southend 2017_L1013801

Glynn with Nikki, myself and my son Jacob in Southend-on-Sea for my 65th birthday…on the prom prom prom…and in the penny arcades…September 2017

He followed us home to Thaxted and we spent the night putting some red wine away and the world to rights…in the morning I cooked breakfast, bacon, toast, eggs and baked beans. Glynn asked me why I stored my tins of baked beans upside down in the store cupboard. I replied that if the tins were upside down in store, when you opened them the beans were at the lid end and they all came out in one hit rather than having the hunt the last of the beans out with a spoon. He thought that was one of the most wonderful of ideas and in his last text to me a few days later he thanked Nikki and I for our hospitality but most of all he thanked us for showing him how to store his baked beans, he said it’s always wonderful to learn something new at 67!!

On the morning of the 16th of September I helped Glynn pack up his campervan with a case of Adnams Claret and a couple of large A2 size photographic prints from me to him as a present for all his hard work on my book. He said he was finally going to get around to reading it now he had the space and time. He drove out of the car park in Thaxted en route to the Tate Britain in London where he could park up for the weekend for free…and that was the last time I saw him.

 

My dear friend Glynn, I will miss you so much but I am privileged to have known you…you lovely gentle guy. RIP.

Brian Harris Book LaunchGlynn signature BH8_0688 copy

 

 

 

Posted in Photography,photo-journalism,The Independent,The Times | 10 Comments

Death of a Princess

Death of a Princess….20 years on

Death of Princess Diana BY BRIAN HARRIS ©

The Funeral of Princess Diana at Westminster Abbey, London, Britain. Her flag covered coffin is taken into the abbey followed by L-R, Prince Charles, Prince Harry, Earl Spencer ( her brother ) Prince William. COPYRIGHT PHOTOGRAPH BY BRIAN HARRIS ©

 

I am neither a royalist or a republican but the death of Diana, Princess of Wales on 31st of  August 1997 affected me more than I expected at the time and now 20 years later, her untimely death still resonates.

 

In the first instance as a working news-press photographer I only ever photographed her four times…once on her wedding day in 1981 photographed  from afar perched on Ludgate Circus Railway Bridge as she and Prince Charles left St Pauls Cathedral followed up by being a Royal Rota photographer on their honeymoon visit to Wales. The third time was when she left hospital after giving birth to Prince Harry, all for The Times newspaper. The fourth time was her funeral at Westminster Abbey for the Independent on Sunday.

Diana front page

Princess Diana leaving hospital after the birth of Prince Harry

 

When working for The Times, photographing the workings of the Royal family was all part of a day’s work as a jobbing news photographer but when I joined The Independent in 1986 the ‘Royals’ were a complete no no…unless their lives impinged upon constitutional issues. The paper had a policy that we just wouldn’t cover royal stories, be they good bad or indifferent.

 

When Diana and her lover Dodi Al-Fayed along with their driver Henri Paul died in that spectacular car crash in the Pont d’Alma underpass in Paris in the early hours of that fateful Sunday morning I had just returned from a family holiday in France.

Unusually I woke early and turned on the radio. At 4am the first news from Paris was being broadcast on the BBC World Service, nothing confirmed but by reading between the lines and the cautious way the news was being reported I suspected something far more serious had happened than was being reported at the time.

I made some coffee and had breakfast, something told me this was going to be a long day.

I phoned David Swanborough, the picture editor at The Independent at about 5 in the morning and the well oiled machine of covering a major news story went into gear.

David wanted me to go to Paris but I said that by the time I got there Diana, alive or dead, would be on her way home to the UK…I asked to ‘hover’ around Buckingham Palace so as to be able to document any reaction by the great British public.

By 7am I was ‘hovering’ outside the Palace, but the news hadn’t filtered through to the populace just yet. The place was quiet, deathly quiet, there was no indication as to what would follow over the next seven days.

By mid-morning crowds started to congregate at the palace gates, some bought flowers, a few embraced but most stood silently and wept quite openly. It was a sensitive time to make photographs so myself and a few other photographers stood back…and then something strange happened…the people turned on the press, reporters with their notebooks quickly put them away but the photographers with their large black intrusive cameras were targeted…for the first time I heard their anger and the words…‘…you killed our Princess…’.

The week of mourning started and as this was now a ‘constitutional story’ the editor of The Indy released us from our self-imposed ‘no Royal stories’ policy and allowed us to cover the story as a major news event. As few on the staff had much knowledge of covering Royal stories I helped the picture editor  co-ordinate our coverage.

By mid-week the funeral date had been set for the following Saturday…photographic positions had to be arranged on the funeral route and passes negotiated. I personally checked out several of the allocated positions for our photographic team but with less than a week to get the event organised the likelihood of everything being ready on the day seemed to be remote, even though I understood the ‘Palace authorities’ were going to use the arrangements already in place for the funeral of the Queen Mother.

Death of Princess Diana BY BRIAN HARRIS ©

 Flowers and tributes to Diana on the Mall near St James Palace

I spent a couple of nights sleeping in my car in the St James area while photographing the hundreds of thousands of bunches of flowers being left on The Mall leading up to Buckingham Palace. This was safer to photograph than at Diana’s home at Kensington Palace where I and several other photographers were chased from the scene as we attempted to document the grief openly displayed to the refrain…’you killed our Princess…F**k off…’

 

On the Thursday evening I began to feel quite ill, it was only a year after I collapsed in Poland with ‘A Typical’ Viral Pneumonia in both lungs and I was still quite weak. I found an A&E department open at UCH in central London and collapsed at the entrance, my car parked half on and off the pavement outside. The medics rushed me inside and gave me a shot and told me to go home and go to bed, my temperature was rising fast. I reported to my GP who concurred with the UCH staff. I explained I had a funeral to cover on the Saturday so was prescribed some pain killers and anti-biotics to see me through the next 48 hours.

 

Saturday, the day of the funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales. Our team of photographers had been sent to their various positions, some in London and some on the route to where Diana would be laid to rest at the Spencer family home of Althrop in Northamptonshire.

I was positioned on a huge stand outside Westminster Abbey along with a hundred other photographers and television crews. We arrived early as dawn was breaking to get through the various security cordons to take up our allocated positions on the stand and settled down to wait. Not really knowing what to expect I took as much photographic equipment with me as I could carry from my car parked on the southside of Westminster Bridge. I arrived carrying four Nikon cameras a full set of prime lenses from 18mm extreme wide angle through the mid range normal lenses to 300mm and a giant 600mm f4 along with a couple of tripods and a monopod…plus some sandwiches and water.

The crowd of mourners swelled and swelled…there was a terrible deep sounding murmur of grief and maybe a little suppressed anger, something quite disturbing and something i’d only heard once before and that was at the funeral of Rajiv Gandhi in India back in 1991.

 

As the funeral cortege came into view and all lenses were focused in that direction my mobile phone started to ring….it was David the picture editor….’You must get a picture of the flowers with the word ‘Mummy’…we can see it on the TV …’ he shouted….I was lining up the big wide shot at that stage so couldn’t swing the telephoto lens round to pick up the words, so I shouted back that that wasn’t the picture…take it from the agencies !. I have never thought it a good idea to replicate what was seen on TV or shot by someone else…I always preferred to furrow my own field.

 

The funeral over I hot footed back to my office in Canary Wharf Tower…leaving the massive studio tri-pod behind to be picked up later…it never was !

 

The editor of the Independent on Sunday ( the IOS ) back then was Rosie Boycott. I got on well with her but the picture desk team were being railroaded by the news desk jockeys into using images that supported their text and agenda rather than letting the best, the strongest images speak for themselves. I made a sized print of my front page offering of Diana’s coffin draped in her flag watched by her boys, her brother and her ex husband, and stuck it on the previous weeks IOS paper to show what it would look like…bit cheeky but Rosie was won over and I think the IOS had the most stylish coverage of the funeral of the ‘Peoples Princess’ out of all the ‘Fleet Street titles’.

INDY DIANA FUNERAL 2322

 

 

Post Diana, street and news photography has got so much more problematic…the public still hate us, we still killed their Princess…but wasn’t it ‘the public’ that bought the newspapers that published pictures of Diana day after day …anyone with a large pro camera is either the killer of Diana or a paedophile or both….our profession changed forever after that fateful evening in Paris 20 years ago.

Death of Princess Diana BY BRIAN HARRIS ©

Death of Princess Diana. Flowers and tributes on the Mall near St James Palace

RIP Diana…the Peoples Princess

 

 

Posted in Photography,photo-journalism,The Independent,The Times | 1 Comment

Prostate Cancer…six months on…

Thaxted Nikki-Jacob-Brian 140517_5321.jpgCelebrating my new low all singing and dancing PSA numbers with Jacob and Nikki and a bottle of Champagne

To say the past months have been pretty darn stressful would be a major understatement and I must say a heart felt thanks to my partner Nikki for putting up with me during this time.

Following on from the Brachytherapy operation on my Prostate last November in Addenbrooke’s Hospital, Cambridge, I can now report that six months after having 66 radioactive implants injected into my Prostate my all important PSA numbers are down to 0.89 which as Andrew Styling, the Radiographer Advanced Practitioner looking after me says is ‘wonderful’.

https://www.prostatecanceruk.org/prostate-information/prostate-tests/psa-test

https://www.cancer.gov/types/prostate/psa-fact-sheet

Last August (2016) when my Prostate Cancer was diagnosed  my PSA numbers were 5.57, which while not mega high, they were increasing enough on my previous years tests to alarm my GP at Thaxted Surgery. When I went in for the operation the numbers were slightly increased to just below 6. After the op. I returned for my six week check up and my numbers were down to 2.6 and so, now six months on I’m very happy, delighted even that my PSA is 0.89. I will be going back for a further check up in six months time and Andrew expects to offer me a discharge then if I want it…although I can elect to remain a patient until I’m completely happy with the results. Isn’t our woefully under resourced National Health Service a wonderful thing.

As the implants in my Prostate seem to be working…certainly the side effects, although minimal compared to Chemo or Radiotherapy treatment, have been interesting. On occasions the gurgling inside me sounded like the spin cycle on our washing machine. There have been days, sometime a week or more when I haven’t wanted to be too far from a loo…and when I needed the loo, i needed it like NOW !! Longs walks have become a distant memory, although this weekend I did manage a mile or so with my son Jacob.

My thanks go to all on the Oncology team at Addenbrooke’s Hospital, the aforementioned Andrew Styling, Radiographer with a terrific fireside manner full of compassion and concern: Dr Simon Russell Oncologist (link below) and Mr Christof Kastner Consultant Urologist (link below) plus all the support nurses and admin staff…a cracking bunch of medical practitioners.

Brian Harris May 2017

http://www.cuh.org.uk/addenbrookes-hospital/services/cancer-services/who-we-are/consultants-and-other-doctors/all-consultants/dr-simon-russell

http://www.camurology.org.uk/about/staff/christof-kastner/

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Prostate Cancer-six weeks after the ‘op’

I’m feeling bouncy and chipper….maybe not as bouncy as these chaps photographed by me a few days ago…but bouncy enough at the mo !

Southend on Sea, Essex, England UK. 8 January 2017Six weeks and counting……

Six weeks after my Brachytherapy ‘procedure’, a quaint euphemism for having a dozen or more needles inserted through one’s perineum to allow 66 radioactive seeds to be injected into the prostate gland to encircle and trap and kill the cancer cells,  I can report that…..all is well !!

Yesterday I went back to Addenbrooke’s Hospital just south of Cambridge. I had various appointments: a scan, weight check, bloods and a consultation all stretched out over a two hour period…can you believe that I was in and out of the Oncology department in under 50 minutes and 30 of those minutes was for my consultation with Andrew Styling the Radiologist.

Andrew has a wonderful bedside manner, he listens, he really listens to you and you feel as if you are his ONLY patient, he responds to your questions, and yes I had a few, rather than speaking from the NICE (National institute for clinical excellence) guideline book,he will let you go off into flights of fancy before gently bringing you back to reality all in all he’s the guy you need to keep you calm.

Andrew confirmed that my tiredness and general feeling of loss of omph was quite normal and under the circumstances after having a major procedure such as I had had my symptoms were quite normal and to be expected. That was quite a relief to me. I was told that I really didn’t need to be seen after the six week period, rather 4 months, but the 6 week time frame was what NICE insisted on after an operation.

We talked peeing, and passing motions and erections and I ticked all the boxes, my plumbing was working as was to be expected, not perfect but quite serviceable.

Blood was taken for a new start point for my PSA numbers, any numbers from before my procedure were now irrelevant…the new numbers were now my new datum point. I was told that the PSA numbers could be up, down or no change, which doesn’t seem very scientific, but that’s how its done. This afternoon, less than 24 hours after my Addenbrooke’s appointment Andrew telephoned me at home to tell me that my numbers were ‘excellent’, they couldn’t be better…I have a PSA of 2.65 (for a man of my youth it would be normal to be from 0-4), so right on the button…before the procedure my PSA had risen from the mid 5’s to over 7, that’s when my GP became concerned…and the rest, is now history I’m very pleased to report.

Tomorrow I start at my local gym, some lightweight cardio exercises to get my muscles back into shape with the carrot of getting some skiing in this season if at all possible.

Guys, none of the above would have applied if I had ignored my numbers, what my body was telling me and having a GP surgery in Thaxted that has a positive and holistic approach to the patient. If I had ignored my warning signs, constant peeing, if I had ignored the PSA numbers, if I had buried my head under the duvet then I may be writing a far more serious blog here…..PROSTATE CANCER is one of the cancers that can be cured…..IF YOU GET YOURSELF SEEN TO BEFORE ITS TOO LATE.

Let me add as a caveat here that PSA numbers are NOT the be all and end all, in fact some GP’s don’t believe in PSA numbers at all. Some PSA numbers can, according to research, be misleading…..here is a link, there are 100’s on Google ( natch )…but from my personal point of view I’m glad to be through this rough patch and it wouldn’t have happened if my numbers had not been monitored and interpreted by a team that cared.
https://www.reference.com/health/causes-high-psa-levels-prostate-fb08f6f5bd14ac1e?qo=cdpArticles

I managed a 2.5 mile walk a couple of days ago along the front at Southend on Sea with nurse Nikki who has been brilliant with coping with my slightly maudlin attitude of recent weeks. I didn’t feel as tired as I have done, in fact I felt quite invigorated and I made a few half decent snaps which I post here to jolly up this blog.Southend Pier, Southend on Sea, Essex, England UK. 8 January 201

 

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Guys….get that finger up the bum and survive Prostate cancer….part 2

What a wonderful National Health Service we have in the UK….Thank you Nye Bevan who was responsible for establishing our cradle to grave health service when Clement Attlee’s post WWII Government came into power in 1945…..

…and a giant thank you to all the staff employed by our NHS who have looked after me over the past few months…with only a very small hiccup the system has worked brilliantly.
From my first PSA check up at my local GP’s surgery in Thaxted, though to the team at Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge…I can’t thank them enough and in a way this very personal blog is part cathartic for me, part a continuation of my ‘cri de coeur’ to all those guys out there who should be getting themselves checked out for any early signs of cancer in the Prostate and partly a thanks to the medical team who looked after me in Addenbrooke’s Treatment Centre (ATC) on Tuesday this week.

‘Nurse’ Nikki dropped me off at the ATC and I immersed myself into the gentle but oh so efficient care of the medical team.

I was encouraged by my dedicated nurse, Chloe, to get undressed and get into bed but as I wasn’t scheduled to ‘go down to theatre’ until early afternoon and as I wasn’t ‘ill’ I stayed in my civvies until the appointed hour and read my papers and book. I was quite determined to maintain some level of independence and maybe prove to myself that there was nothing wrong with me, a form of denial, maybe?

Members of the ‘Theatre’ team came around clad in green and ready for action, double double checking who I was, scanning my leg band, scanning my wrist band, making sure the collars and cuffs matched !

And then it was time…two green clad theatre attendants appeared out of nowhere at the end of my bed, angels or angles of death, to take me down…to take me to my end…these were all the rapid distorted thoughts racing around in my head.

I walked to Theatre, following my angels who engaged me in ‘distraction’ small talk…they tried their best, but if I could have found an exit door I would have been off, fear, fear of the unknown was beginning to take me over.

Standing at the door of the Operating Theatre, watching phantasmagoric shapes dressed in green through the frosted glass moving around and getting ready for me was a wake up call….this was really going to happen, this was real. Me standing there clad in my back to front NHS gown covered by a wonderfully cosy Austin Reed dressing gown of some vintage and a pair of Greek slippers with pom poms…my attempt at being an individual and not just another piece of meat.Pom pom slippers.jpg

Pom Pom slippers all the rage for the man going to the Theatre…..

I asked for the surgical instruments to be used on me to be covered up before entering Theatre, I had a very good idea of what was to be involved and had no need to see the ‘instruments of torture’ lined up in front of me. I also asked that my catheter be taken out while under the general anaesthetic if at all possible. Both my requests were adhered to.

The Theatre doors opened and at least 15, maybe more, green clad nurses, surgeons, consultants, anathaethetists  stood there all waiting for me. I felt very humbled. The surgical team was led by Mr Christof Kastner and Dr Simon Russel and Radiographer Andrew Styling kept me fully informed at every stage of my procedure…to you and all the team…my most sincere thanks.

Strapped to the gurney, legs akimbo, oxygen mask on, a line into my hand and goodnight Vienna……

I understand the operation, the Bracytherapy, took an hour and a half plus the same again in ‘recovery’. I had a fear of waking up during the procedure, but of course i had no knowledge of anything that happened while i was out.

The recovery team, fast working and juggling their time dashing between monitors and patients were efficiency personified. The senior member, a beautiful woman from Poland with a wonderful Slavic profile and her side kick  from Spain, she had lovely warm eyes…was I in heaven ?….. ‘Have i been done…have I had had it,…have I had my Bracy…’ ( I was told by the Senior Staff Nurse that these were my first words on coming round a few hours later…they were happy to see me reacting positively).

Back to the ward where the House Team led by a woman from Lithuania gave me buttered toast and a ‘nice cup a tea’, followed later by a Salmon sandwich on brown bread…with more tea.

Within an hour after shooting and posting a selfie on Face Book I asked to get up and go for a walk…I wanted to prove to myself that my positive frame of mind could be replicated by putting one foot in front of the other…I wanted to show that I wasn’t a bed bound ‘ill’ person…..I wanted to show that I could go home…I had been told it was a possibility as long as I passed enough water and emptied my bladder three times and my blood pressure numbers stabilised. I drank two litres of water, lots of tea and ‘peed’ for England.

after-the-op

Being positive and indicating that I’d like to go home now please….

‘Nurse’ Nikki and Jacob came into visit me and waited until late evening when my BP numbers had stabilised and I was allowed home…..now, I don’t know about you, but i think that is absolutely bloody marvellous, only 12 hours after admittance and less than 7 hours after coming out of Theatre where I had 66 x 39.5 uGyh-1 M2 Radioactive Implants inserted into my prostate carefully  positioned to enclose my two small cancer growths which they are going to kill over the next few months……I was on my way home !!!

My last check out was to be scanned by the night nurse with a Geiger Counter to make sure my Radioactive pellets were doing what they said on the tin ( A lead container was actually on my bedside table just in case I peed out a Radioactive pellet !! )…I clicked and made all the right noises, just like James Bond did in Dr No…but unfortunately there was no Honeychile Riider played by Ursula Andress in attendance !

Now, a couple of days later, I’m feeling fine, a tad slow, but up and about…but no heavy lifting, no bike riding, no sleeping alongside pregnant women, no under 5’s on my knee and no making babies for a year or two…hey ho !

In the meantime i will be catching up on my DVD box sets…I started with Carl Sagen’s COSMOS yesterday…and the first episode brought a tear to my eye as took onboard just how insignificant we are in the matter of all things….we are all mortal and hope to be around for the three score and ten…so guys, those of a certain age, please go get yourself checked out for this eminently treatable cancer, if caught early enough…its the one YOU CAN BEAT !!!!!!!

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Get checked out guys before the bugger bites you up the bum….!

Following on from AA Gills piece in this weekends Sunday Times and the wonderful Clive James pieces in the Guardian Magazine over the past year as well as that chap on the radio, all who have come out using their journalistic skills to write, discuss and bring to a wider audience the subject of cancer and other similar horrible conditions that are not discussed openly in polite society.

Tomorrow is Bracy day or B-Day ( bidet, get it ? ) for me, my couple of days in Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge where an ace team of Radiologists, Oncologists and caring nursing staff will, hopefully, be getting to the bottom of my little Prostate cancer. All black humour puns are intended.

This post is a shout out to all you guys out there and gals of guys to get their guys down to their GP’s asap to get your PSA tests done. I have had PSA tests done for the past 5 years or so, some GP’s don’t believe in the numbers but if you shout loud enough they will do the test and give you a nice little examination…..yup, thats the finger up the bum…..chum !

My numbers have been about right for a 60 plus year old but the upward curve of this years numbers were enough to slightly concern my doc. A couple of calls and I was into the NHS system….you really can’t fault them when it gets to this level.

I was warned by the urology team at Addenbrookes that if you ask the question…’ Have i got cancer…’ ? then you will have to react to the answer…’was I ready for that ? Big questions…and big answer. A few hours of quiet reflection and I decided to go ahead and ask that question.

First a couple of whole body scans and then the biopsy, the word sent a shiver through me as in the ‘old days’ a biopsy normally meant the end, a few months maybe a year at best.

More digits up the rear passage and then the clipper machine…..local anaesthetic applied, knees up around ones ears, testes and chap checked over and then click !!!…now, I’m not saying it hurt, but the total sensation of hearing the click and knowing that some tool was up inside me taking tiny little bites out of my Prostate, was really not very pleasant…..knowing that at least 15 biopsies had to be taken, 15 little bites was a tough call. I really am a total  coward and have a threshold of pain well below zero.
The trainee nurse, early 20’s and pretty, held my hand and tried to comfort me…I just shouted ‘Talk to me about anything….just talk gibberish…’ She asked what i was going to do after the procedure, I said I was going to have some lunch at a nearby farm-shop…oh, thats interesting…I work there at weekends as a barista ….of course by now, she had recognised me as a regular customer at Gogmagog Farm-Shop and I recognised her as one of the top coffee makers…so, machine inserted, all dignity and I mean ALL dignity out of the window as my barista nursey comforted me and dried my eyes as the tears welled up as I started to fully comprehend the enormity of what was happening to me.

When nurse made me a sweet cup of tea with two biscuits we chatted about where she was going in her life. Three or four years at University studying to be a nurse before working in Africa, probably Rawanda. I shall be keeping an eye on her progress…..but will probably skip my next cafe latte if she is on duty.

The results came back and were good and bad. ‘Yes, we have found a couple of cancer growths in your prostate…the good news is that they are ‘only’ 2-3 mm long. Oh, thats alright then.  I was told I could live for another 20 plus years and they wouldn’t kill me or I could get rid of the little beasties now using the least invasive of treatments. Brachytherapy.  Brachytherapy is a tried and tested procedure with a 94-96% success rate…that seemed pretty good odds for me.

More scans to make sure the bugger hadn’t metastasised into other parts of my body…thankfully I was clean and in September I sat with the team members and sorted out dates for the operation…all very civilised….’we don’t want to inconvenience your holiday in Tuscany’…and as I had a couple of lecture dates fixed up, they had to be accommodated ….and so, tomorrow, B-Day…..

I will be trussed like an inverted chicken, tubes and camera (please not a 10×8 plate camera) inserted where the sun don’t shine and then using the most advanced robotics up to 30 rice grain sized radioactive pellets will be inserted via a series of needles into my Prostate through my perinium all clustered to form an overlapping shield around the two bits of cancer…..and all under general anasthestic I’m pleased to say.

I should be home on Wednesday…..and I’m looking forward to giving a lecture about my work and book to Photo Students at Middlesex University in 10 days time….I may have to a have chair with a cumffy cushion.

And BTW, I can’t be cremated for 3 years, I can’t be Father Christmas ( no children under 5 on my lap ) and the best bit….I will set off all the security alarms at airports…almost worth buying a ticket just to have that fun.

Think of Nikki, my home nurse…thanks N xxx

Posted in Prostate Cancer | 2 Comments

Blog 14…and then the Prime Minister hit me…by Brian Harris

…and then the Prime Minister hit me…by Brian Harris

http://impress-publishing.com/and-then-the-prime-minister-hit-me.html

Wow !…..since my book was published and launched back in the late spring of 2016 I really haven’t come down to earth….

and then the Prime Minister hit me by Brian Harris slip cased book 9449 copy

   The slipcased limited edition signed 1-200 version of my book with an A4 size print made on art rag paper also signed and numbered

The launch evening was at the wonderful Hoop and Grapes pub on Farringdon Street just around the corner from Fleet Street, what was the heart of the British newspaper industry until the bean counters took over ! The old fashioned Fleet Street boozer did me proud and over 120 friends romans and fellow travellers showed up and attempted to drink the bar and my wallet dry….and very nearly succeeded ! As the last of the bar flies left at nearly midnight each was given a party bag of left over Brick Lane beigels and some cheese, many reporting that they re-discovered their goody bag a few days later and were enjoying a beigel breakfast.

Brian Harris Book Launch

Former The Independent chief photographer Brian Harris launches his new book, “…AND THEN THE PRIME MINISTER HIT ME” at the Hoop and Grapes pub, Farringdon Street, London. May 25, 2016. Photo: Edmond Terakopian

Sales of the book on the night exceeded my wildest expectations for both editions with over 25 of the special limited edition book pre ordered and another 60 plus of the standard edition selling on the night. Thank you all.

The thing about financing the publishing of a book is that one has to sell the damn thing….so, with that in mind I am having a market stall type set up at my wonderful farm shop on the weekend of 3rd-4th of September…thats next weekend where I’m going to have my East of England book launch at The Gog !

The Gog, formerly known as the Gogmagog Farm Shop, on the Gogmagog Hills south of Cambridge, is one of those truly exceptional foodie experiences…I’m there at least twice a week to buy my meat, Neales Yard cheese’s and veg….the owners, the Bradford family are allowing me to sell my book at their outlet, so, if you are in the area and want to chew the fat, have a glass of wine, a nibble at some great cheese and maybe buy some food….or my book, then come along from 10am – 5pm on both days. It would be wonderful to see all those who couldn’t get down to the smoke earlier in the year.

Here’s a link to the Gog with directions etc…http://www.thegog.com/and-then-the-prime-minister-hit-me/

I have a few more London book gigs coming up in October…I will keep you in the loop.

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‘…and then the Prime Minister hit me…’

Blog 13…the final blog for my book…until I need to shake the tree again, maybe later in the year…but in the meantime I say adieu and thank you all for reading my ramblings so far…there are a lot of images on this blog…so have fun and enjoy.http://impress-publishing.com/and-then-the-prime-minister-hit-me.html

 

Brian's book launch by Valery MeliaMy mum photographed by Valery Melia showing a photo of her and my dad taken in a Bond Street studio in 1947…hand coloured…I wonder how many photographs taken today will still be viewable in seventy years time !!

And so, it came to pass, that my book,  …and then the Prime Minister hit me…’ is finally published and book launched at the Hoop and Grapes pub near Fleet Street, the centre of what was the beating heart of the British newspaper industry in London town.

Panorama by Steve Morgan v2Photograph by Steve Morgan of me giving my little speech of thanks…Andreas Whittam Smith is middle left…hard left is Jamie Fergusson and on the right is photo editor and ex managing editor of the Times Christopher McKane.

I reckon that at one time there were over a hundred guests at the gig enjoying the bar, the beigels and smoked salmon and some wonderful Neals Yard cheeses and served with BH Book personalised napkins provided by my sister Jan, chief party organiser and bunting maker along with her husband John…thanks guys…and thanks to my nephew Dominic (Dom – he was the very tall guy !) who looked after the book stall during the evening.

Panorama v2Montage image above by Brian Harris…Cedric Hemmings and Tina Hemmings with Valery Melia on left….David Hoffman in front of Alun John and Christopher McKane…Andreas is back middle and Suresh, Glynn and David are on the right.

I think it was a great evening, I even managed to enjoy myself without a drop of alcohol passing my lips, although I was pretty nervous at about 6.30 when i thought my family would have to start running around to make up a crowd…but by 7.30 you couldn’t move for photographers: young and not so young, some from the nationals and some from the regional papers, picture editors I have worked with and abused and amused, designers, art directors, good pals from my dim and distant past and younger guys and gals who came on through the mentoring scheme that the Independent implemented in the early days….my mother watched on with a certain level of bemusement (she is still waiting for me to get a proper job !)…and the founder and editor of the Indy, Andreas Whittam Smith rocked up, thanks to Susan Glen tipping him off…what a wonderful crowd of really really nice people…a room full of great talent…thanks for coming along.

Brian's book launch day by Brian harrisx__My former editor Sir Andreas Whittam Smith (AWS) with the silver locks and designers Jennifer Penny with straw and Professor Phil Cleaver of et-al design who put my book together and worked far more hours than budgeted for…photographer Steve Morgan is getting a look in from the rear and Lisa Clark a former designer at the Indy and now with the Express is behind the wine glass of AWS 

 

My thanks to Edmond Terakopian for letting me use his pictures from the night seen above

One photographer of senior years emailed the next morning to say, ‘That was the best book launch party I’ve ever been to…’. What a wonderful thing to say.

The party snaps above were taken by me…i think ! From the top: John Putman photographs me, me and my books, Andreas in the centra, Cedric, Tina and Val, followed by picture editors Alun John and Christopher McKane, Keith Waldegrave with Suresh Karadia and Mike Crozier….on left Glynn Griffiths with David Sandison above Mike Lawn and Keith waldegrave…right centre…David Hoffman, Antonio Olmos with Graham Harrison…and on the bottom row me with nikki and Glynn with the two limited editions he bought !!

BUT….it very nearly didn’t happen due to absolute last minute ‘cock ups’ at the printers…..

Even though my ‘Book’ was printed and all signed off back in February ( see my earlier blogs )…the product then had to go to the binders to be glued together by hand due to the unusual construction of not having a spine so that the book would lay flat with no gutter for images to fall into.

First off, the book boards were the wrong size, too small…then the slip cases for the limited edition books were made to the wrong size…then the dust jacket which was originally printed to the smaller book board size and then had to be reprinted to the larger size ( by 3 mm ) was printed too dark…and then it was reprinted but the binders ignored the trim marks and cut to an ordinary dust jacket rather than the French Folded jacket that I wanted….only discovered on the Friday, before launch day when I had 200 books delivered to my house.

AND SO…on the Monday, launch day minus 2, I was at the printers, Geoff Neals in Feltham, right under the flight path into Heathrow, at five in the morning as I wanted to micro manage the last, the final, the fifth printing of my dust jacket, to the right colour, the right tone and the right size…the paper stock was ordered to be there at 9am and arrived at 1pm (on the Monday)…a press was stopped and my job was put on in the middle of printing for a high end car catalogue. Within half an hour I was done. A van was laid on to ship the 800 dust jacket sheets from Feltham to Diamond Binders in Enfield just off the M25 for the French Folding to start, all done by hand by a team of women who also did the earlier hand gluing. I am constantly surprised by how much hand work is done…which explains the relatively high price for this book.

In the meantime my printer Dave Davis, after having a lie down, was kicking butt down in Mitchum in Surrey where my slip cases were being made for the second time to the now new sized and slightly thicker book, due to the French Folds…..

TUESDAY..launch day minus 1. I was having kittens and a breakdown as all I had to show at my launch was …nothing, de nada, niente, zip and zilch !!!

Brian's book launch by Jason ByePhotograph by Jason Bye which well summed up how i felt on launch day minus 1

And then just after lunch on Tuesday after a few calls into St Jude, a second pallet of books, correctly dust jacketed arrived…followed a few hours later by Dave with 200 slip cases, that looked beautiful and were the right size, at last.

At 6pm, on the evening before book launch day I started to stamp and number the first 50 (of 200) of the limited slip cased book which all had to have the stamped and signed A4 sized print inserted and then had to be wrapped in black tissue paper and for those that had been pre ordered, tagged with the right name and number. At 9pm I started with my partner Nikki, to box up the standard book…each posting/packing box had to have two pieces of foam inserted to add to the post box strength and then had to be taped together…by 1am, I was done in and my back and legs had given out….but I was up at 6am to package a further two dozen for the ‘night’.

Having set up the room Jan and Nikki and Dom and John relax before our first guests Nikki’s daughter Holly and her beau Phil (top right) arrive walking the same pavement that I walked as a messenger boy 47 years ago in 1969 when working for Fox-Photos a few hundred yards up Farringdon Road and Street.

BOOK LAUNCH DAY. And then to London town to pick up 150 pre ordered beigels from the Beigel Bake in Brick Lane-the best beigels in the world !!…and onto the Hoop and Grapes pub on Farringdon Street to set up for the evening do. My sister and her husband Jan and John did a fair imitation of training to be care in the community helpers by hand making about 80 metres of bunting using triangles of newsprint from the last ever edition of The Independent-all things have a use ! Between jan and John and Dom and my mum ( 87 ) and Nikki ( with a broken paw ) we managed to dress the set, a real Fleet street pub boozer into part gallery and part overflowing news room, picture desk…well done to you all, it looked splendid !

Photographs above courtesy of Edward Webb – a wonderful bit of photo-bombing by Ed Sykes…Dom is back left and Edmond Terakopian is back right….I’m the one with the silly grin !

And then we waited…and then everyone came…thanks once again….I was totally completely utterly overwhelmed …and for those stalwarts who stayed to the very very end I’m glad you all enjoyed your take home goodie bags of left over beigels which i understand were still being found in the bottom of various camera bags some days later…TOP TIP…when you have a day old rock hard beigel…place under a running tap for a few seconds and put into a red hot oven for a few minutes…it’s amazing how they revive…..this personal message is bought you by the beigel preservation society !

Brian's book launch day by Nikki_1010061I’m pleased to say we took home nearly 100 books less than when we arrived !! Photographed in true documentary style by Nikki Bertoya…the final frame !
Posted in Brian Harris book | 4 Comments

Blog 12…and then the Prime Minister hit me…now for sale

‘…and then the Prime Minister hit me…’ by Brian Harris is now available to buy and will be shipping from late May 2016.

http://www.impress-publishing.com/and-then-the-prime-minister-hit-me.html

Brian Harris with a copy of his new book, '...and then the Prime

Brian Harris with an early copy of his new book, ‘…and then the Prime Minister hit me…‘ 

At long last my book,’…and then the Prime Minister hit me…’ is about to be published and will start shipping towards the end of May. I’m still waiting for mailing boxes and slip cases to be completed, but the actual book is printed, assembled, back and front cover boards in place and the french folded dust jackets have been lovingly folded by hand….I am amazed at how much work is done by hand to produce the end result.

Brian Harris blog pics-Jan 2016_20166119

To allow my book to lay absolutely flat so that pictures don’t disappear into the centre gutter my design team of Professor Phil Cleaver and Jennifer Penny of et-al design based in Oxford devised a way of publishing the book without a spine. This of course posed certain construction problems in making a 320 page hard back book printed on quite heavy photographic quality paper. A team of women at Diamond print services in Enfield north London, one of the few remaining book binders left in the UK, glued each printed section into place by hand. Normally the glue would be applied along the length of the spine by machine…but as the book is to lay flat when open, any glue seepage would show onto the page, so the glue was applied using a small brush along the black thread that holds the individual sections together…a labour of love…and cost !

Brian's book waiting for covering_7184

My book will be available in two versions. The standard book will be £68 plus postage and packing and the slipcased limited edition of only 200 will be numbered and signed and will include a beautiful print on 310gsm Hahnemule Photo Rag paper which will also be signed and numbered the same as the book and embossed by hand at £130 including shipping to the UK. Overseas postage can be quoted for.

Brian' book print 7208

I’m extremely proud of my book which has taken me several years to write, edit and produce. I would like to thank my partner Nikki Bertoya pushing me unload my hard drive of a brain onto a hard drive in my computer, this book would not have seen the light of day. Designers Phil and Jenny have been real stalwarts and have put far more hours into this project than was ever budgeted for and Dave Davies who looked after the actual printing as well as my good friend Glynn Griffiths who picture edited my initial selection of 1600 images down to a manageable 250 before the final cut.

Brian Harris book editing with Professor Phil Cleaver of et-al D

Editing Brian Harris’s book ‘…and then the Prime Minister hit me…’ with Professor Phil Cleaver of et-al Design on left and Photographer Brian Harris

Brian Harris book editing by Picture Editor Glynn Griffiths

Picture Editor Glynn Griffiths in Brian’s Garage showing hundreds of 7×5 en prints used to make the final selection

Brian Harris book sign off day 15 Jan 2016

Signing off day 15 Jan 2016 Prof Phil Cleaver with Jennifer Penny and Dave Davies the printer at et-al design consultants offices in Oxford check the proofs and the final spell checks and layouts before signing off the job.

Brian Harris check over the Litho proofs for his book 6536

Brian in his office checking yet more proofs

Brian Harris print day for '...and then the Prime Minister hit m

Picture editor Glynn Griffiths at Geoff Neal print works, Feltham west London.

Brian Harris print day for '...and then the Prime Minister hit m

Brian Harris checking the pages before signing off the actual printing of the book

Brian Harris print day for '...and then the Prime Minister hit m

Brian Harris and Professor Phil Cleaver with one of the last litho plates

The entire production of my book has been made in the UK

http://www.impress-publishing.com/and-then-the-prime-minister-hit-me.html

Posted in Brian Harris book, Photography,photo-journalism,The Independent,The Times | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Blog number 11-Goodbye Indy and Sindy

….and so, the Independent on Sunday-the Sindy has gone and The Independent-the Indy , the paper where I worked from July 1986 through to the beginnings of 1999, is to close this Saturday 26 March, to be replaced by an online edition only and with the little off shoot ‘i’ paper being taken over by Johnston Press…..may I wish all who continue to work in these new enterprises all the very best of luck for the future.

Brian Harris Private Archive Collection

Brian Harris with launch poster in 1986….It is…It was…Are you…Were you ??

 

Maybe one day the Eagle on the Indy’s masthead will turn into a Phoenix and the paper will rise from the ashes and become a dream for another team of brilliant journalists.

In the meantime and before my book, ‘…and then the Prime Minister hit me…’ is published towards the end of April I leave you with a slide show selection, in no particular order, of rag out pages showing a very small selection of my work for the Indy and Sindy and their magazines….photographically some have said that we burnt brightly but for only for a short period of time…this may well be true, certainly I believe our ‘Golden period’ was from about ’86 to the early mid nineties, but our legacy will out live us all in the way we shook up the way visual journalism changed for the entire industry, not just here in the UK, but worldwide.

We had a great team of dedicated photographers, picture editors, designers,writers and reporters and most importantly an editor in Andreas Whittam Smith (now a Knight and a CBE) who believed in us and our way of seeing the world and had the trust in us to tell our truth without compromise which he then showed to our readers with confidence.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Let the slide show load up and follow the forward and backward buttons, or just let it play on a loop..it does work…there are 45 pages here, all very low resolution so this shouldn’t clog up even the most basic computer system.
Posted in Photography,photo-journalism,The Independent,The Times | Leave a comment