Early morning at a fishing village in Mafia Island, Tanzania. Time stood still here.

Wimbledon: Center Court, 1980; Bjorn Borg vs John McEnroe. It was cited as the best Wimbledon final by ESPN’s countdown show “Who’s Number One?” and “one of the three or four greatest sporting events in history” by ESPN personality Mike Greenberg. A young lady Diana was there in the audience also and I took this fleeting shot.

I had been there the day before also – the first day of a photo assignment for Denstu, Japan. My task was to photograph a range of behind-the-scenes/historically significant people behind the tournament. Sure, I had had regular fun too. I watched a few matches in between photo sessions but I had also wondered into places where the general public would never go. I was exposed to the overpowering aroma from some of the 27000 kilos of strawberries, annually consumed there – and I was breathing, still capable of exposing film.  Now it was a mere 15 minutes before the final: I was being screamed at by the television crew onto whose camera position I had just climbed.

I have no idea how things are nowadays, but back then there was room in the cramped stadium for only two action TV cameras. The match feed for the entire world originated from these two contraptions. So, at that very moment, that was one of the most sensitive spots in the entire country.

I had been given the highest level permit be there for 2 mins for ‘just a brief shot’ of a female umpire, who was to climb to the umpire’s seat, sit for 30 seconds for the shot and then climb down again. I think it must have been Catherine McTavish, who had made history the year before. She was the tournament’s first female umpire.

The TV crew were now beside themselves with fury at me: “get down get down get don’t touch anything, get down now!“ – And I was still waiting for my subject mount the platform. I was impervious to their yelling and meantime, I glanced to my right and saw Diana Spencer (Lady Di) in the audience and thought to fire off 2 token frames. This made them even angrier. Finally my umpire subject was seated. I took my assignment shots and fled the mayhem.

I have it burned into my memory – the TV crew, still throwing insults at me even as I descended the lowest rungs of the ladder, out of sight into the bleak bunker-like interior of the media room. Here I would be locked in till the end of the match. The camera crew had made sure that nothing would distract them from their single minded match coverage. No one was coming in and no one was going out till it was over.

My sole consolation was that back up the ladder were some very jazzed up TV camera operators whose day’s work had only just begun – – but they were no longer yelling at me any more and that was nice.

I was not to know that this would be a final which would ‘go down in history’ but at that point is was ‘a final’ after all and now that my own assignment was over, I wanted to see it.

But, here I was trapped, mere feet from where the players would be playing. And what is more – “there are no windows in this bunker”. No windows looking out in ‘any’ direction. And to make things worse, nearly no furniture.  Two rickety old director’s chairs and a ‘tinny’ 14” black and white television on an upturned wooden box. That is all.

The sound of the crowd beginning to react to events was modulated by the thick concrete walls and another figure sauntered out of the crummy bathroom. I was not alone in this prison and I recognized the face.

My fellow inmate was none other than James Hunt who won the Formula One World Championship in 1976. Hunt who was one of the jet setters of the time, with a massive reputation and just as big a paparazzi following.

He had just given up racing cars and was beginning a career as sports commentator. Why he was there I just don’t know. But, we were locked alone in that room for that long and exciting match.

We just ‘had to have’ communicated over that tiny TV.  I would not have forgotten if he was reticent, as that would be notable and run contrary to his public persona. Evidently I was not impressed by stardom – – I cannot remember a single article of conversation.

I had nearly forgotten I had ever taken that photo and only rediscovered it in 2010.

Philip Chudy www.philipchudy.com

My son has found his passion, he loves to draw! For me, this is a step change in his growing up into a man. I wanted to capture this new passion of his by making a short film of him that encapsulates what he puts into his art and I have used my passion for making imagery to do this. I did plenty of product placement along the way - as you do when that is what you're used too. I hope you enjoy this short, would love to hear what you think.

Products:@beatsbydre @strathmoreart @tombowusa @hm_man @pilotflyde @sonyalpha #beatsheadphones #strathmoretonedtan #tombowzoom #hmman #pilotflyh2 #sonya7rii

Director: Dominic James
Cinematography: Dominic James
Artist: Dylan James
Location: Littlehampton
Music Title: Couth Youth
Music Artist: Matt Wigton

KIT
Sony A7Rii
Sony 28mm f2
Pilotfly H2
Adobe Premiere CC
Soundstripe

At first glance, the viewer may believe he is seeing a solid sculpture in the landscape. In reality, the image captures a fabric form in ‘mid-flight’. The sculpture exists for a split second in time; once photographed, it is otherwise lost forever, never to be re-created.

I first produced this series in a studio environment. The permanence of this environment contrasted starkly against the transience of the moving forms. To create a greater sense of harmony, the images were later shot within the natural environment. In doing so, a secondary layer or optical illusion is incorporated for the viewer.

More images for this series can be viewed on my site. www.nealgrundy.co.uk

by Philip Chudy
London 020 337 11854
San Francisco +1 415 203 3030
www.philipchudy.com

Back in the days of chemical photography, this sort of a look occurred when things went wrong (old chemicals. bad paper etc). But the look was intriguing and in rare cases ‘happy accidents’ created highly memorable images.

Nowadays a mindless digital auto-filter is expected to deliver the same retro effects and everyone has this facility on their smart phone. But the truth is that really successful treatments are as rare as they ever were. No tonal treatment suits every image or is predictable enough to be optimal in the hands of a emotionless thoughtless algorithm. In advertising, being tasked to deliver a specific high quality graphic/illustration effect ‘on demand’ remains as ‘challenging’ a creative task as it ever was.

A lot of experimentation is required to find the best possible effect for the job. This is not least because - when there is featured product (a car in this case) - retaining its visual integrity is a major priority. Mood, atmosphere and sensual textures come a big second after making the vehicle look desirable even to the most conventional, creatively ambivalent buyer/driver. But even so that 'big second' still has to be 'pretty big' to do its job -  - to cut through the noise and at minimum 'be noticed' in our heavily image saturated media environment.

So, the brief was (as so often is the case) - 'be bold and cutting edge in creative terms for this Dodge Challenger image, but be careful not to challenge anyone's sensibility at the same time. 

Just the building. Reduced to the max.
From all over the world: New York, Hong Kong, London, Madrid, Berlin, etc...

For me architecture is a kind of sculpture. In Singularity I reduced the buildings to themselves.
Like a sculpture on a pedestal in a clean gallery or museum.

All work by Florian Mueller. More on iso74.com

This body of work wasn't shot as a planned project but more a case of taking advantage of an opportunity. My darkroom is in a business centre and my neighbour is a training organisation. They organise work experience for the long term unemployed as a way of helping them back to full time work. One morning when I arrived to make some prints, I noticed these characters swanning around waiting for transport to take them to a work experience project. After a chat they agreed to my request to make their portraits. The next morning I set up a background in a corner of the car park. Balanced a couple of flash heads with the ambient light and photographed whoever turned up.

Richard Freestone 07968 889258 http://www.richardfreestone.com (Print Sales) http://www.richardfreestone.co.uk (Portfolio) http://www.139printroom.co.uk (Platinum Printing)

By Markku Lahdesmaki

As a photographer, you always feel a little more aware of your surroundings than other people. After all, your livelihood depends on your eyes, on seeing things that other’s don’t. But it’s easy to forget that no matter how aware you are, everyone eventually becomes numb to their daily environment. That’s why traveling outside your comfort zone is so important to longevity in this industry, it keeps your eyes fresh, not just on the road but when you come back home. And traveling doesn’t necessarily mean somewhere far either, it could be another neighborhood, a different block, a quick hike, or yes, biking through Cambodia.

I’ve been thinking about comfort zones and new perspectives ever since I moved to the foot of Mt. San Jacinto, which towers above Coachella Valley in California. Every day something new catches my eye, or my ear, it’s been an invigorating experience. And those experiences are what really keep my art alive, keep me passionate about doing what I do. Case in point; earlier this year I was driving in Yucca Valley, on my way to Joshua Tree when I noticed some circus trucks in an open field. I could see the beginnings of a tent under construction, workers hurrying to-and-fro in the crisp morning air.

I parked and walked over to the campground, where I eventually struck up a conversation with the owner of the Ramos Bros. Circus, Oliver. He recognized my accent and as it turned out, he had traveled all over Scandinavia years before, as part of another circus. That coincidence provided an opportunity to ask if it would be okay for me to take some pictures of the circus, and perhaps because of that connection, he acquiesced. I came back with my wife the next night, just to take in the show as an audience member. One of the things that really caught my eye was how the imperfections really added to the rustic charm of the entire operation; this wasn’t Barnum & Bailey, and it was better for it. It seemed like everyone on the staff performed several different roles in the course of a night; ticket taker one minute, leading show horses the next, fire-eating tomorrow. All of this only added to the warmth and intimacy of the experience.

The whole thing was very spontaneous and I had to do a lot of adapting on the fly, but that’s also what made it fun. I remember standing in total darkness behind the curtains with some of the artists and thinking how the hell can I get anything captured with almost no light at all but it worked out. I went to almost every show they had in town.I would be sitting at home, planning on taking the night off but the thought of what I might be missing just kept nagging me, and the next thing you know, I’m halfway down Highway 62. I saw five shows over the week or so that they spent in town, each time trying to find a new angle or idea. One day I even went to the local Home Depot and rented the cherry picker so I was able to capture the whole tent from a different perspective.