“You should google ‘Beatles. Rupert.’”

When a middle-aged man approaches you in London’s Soho district and invites you to start googling, it doesn’t always bode well, in my experience.

“When I see somebody using a proper camera – that’s a professional camera, isn’t it? – I always tell them to google ‘Beatles. Rupert.’”

Smartly dressed in a light summer jacket with a neat, striped tie, the gentleman – for he was clearly nothing less – smiled broadly and pointed into the alleyway where I’d been photographing.

“There’s a famous photo of The Beatles that was taken in this alley. It’s called Rupert Court. If you google ‘Beatles and Rupert’ you’ll find it.”

I fished out my phone and searched for ‘Beatles Rupert’. There they were – the Fab Four walking down the same narrow alleyway in Soho, almost 65 years before.

Some things have changed – the Non-Stop Striptease joint is now a Reflexology spa, the cafe is now a hair salon – but the shape of the Rupert Court alleyway is largely unchanged.

I wasn’t previously familiar with the picture and hadn’t realised I was on the same spot.

“No, not many people know about it. I’ve lived here since the 60s and if I see somebody with a decent camera, I always tell them about the Beatles photo.”

“Well, thank you, you’re providing a valuable service,” I said.

He laughed and waved a hand in the air as he strode down the alley, as if hurrying towards an imminent appointment. Perhaps a modest lunch with friends – potted shrimps, a sliver of Stilton and a glass of Chablis.

Recreating The Beatles and Rupert Court

I like the challenge of trying to recreate a moment from an old photograph. Finding the right position, a similar perspective, selecting the perfect focal length… It’s rarely possible to get quite the same angle, there’s always one ingredient that seems to be confined to the past, stuck in the moment when the original picture was made.

I’ve used my own Kodachrome 64 profile to emulate the 1963 film look – although I can’t quite bring myself to black out all the dark tones, as in the original. Poor George Harrison, destined to always walk in the shadows!

The Portrait that Never Was

I was lost in concentration, trying to find the perspective from the 1963 photo, when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“You should google ‘Beatles. Rupert.’”

Two Japanese tourists with Nikon cameras were urgently tapping on their phones, searching for ‘Beatles Rupert’. My smart friend, returning from lunch, waited patiently for them to find the famous photo.

“I can save you the trouble. Here it is.” I offered them my phone with the photo of The Beatles in Rupert Court.

“Aha! You’re still here! Splendid!”

The two tourists inspected my phone, nodded their thanks, lifted their cameras and walked into the alley. I fell into conversation with my smart friend.

One of the things I miss most about living away from England is the ease with which it’s possible to strike up a conversation with a stranger. My language skills just aren’t up to the job elsewhere. We spoke about London, about places we knew, shared stories from the past. We chatted about the state of the world, about politics, about Ukraine and Russia. He described an article he’d read recently about an exciting advance in medical science. I shared the title of a podcast that I thought he might enjoy.

I cherish those impromptu chats with people met on the street. In London, I’ll have half a dozen memorable meetings when I’m out with a camera. Indeed, a camera is almost invariably the catalyst for a stranger to begin a conversation.

But I have a confession. As we were talking, part of my mind was elsewhere. I was thinking, I’d really like to make a portrait of this gentleman in Rupert Court. In my mind’s eye, I could see him standing in the same spot as The Beatles. I already knew the approximate angle to replicate the original photo. I had the right lens attached to my camera and the exposure settings were already dialled in. I imagined a portrait worthy of a place in next year’s Portrait of Britain photography contest.

As our conversation came to a natural conclusion, I delivered my invitation.

“Might I make a photo? You in the alleyway?”

“Of course. But we’d need three more people. There’s only one of me.”

And with that he set off down the alleyway, turning briefly to wave a hand in the air, striding towards another imminent appointment. Afternoon tea at The Savoy, perhaps.

I made one hurried photo. It’s obviously not the one I had in my mind’s eye. Not even close. My imagined, prize-winning portrait will join a number of other imagined scenes that sit in a mental archive of missed opportunities.

The one good thing about missed opportunities is that the imagined photos are always perfect – and don’t require processing.

To the friendly gent who introduced me to “Beatles. Rupert.” I say thank you and you’re quite right, there is only one of you.

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Blind Patriotism

During my time in London I worked on a project photographing London architecture. It was quite different from the work I’m used to producing. The images are all high-contrast black and white and show famous London landmarks from unfamiliar perspectives, focussing on recognisable architecture but with a human element.

Unfortunately, the images are embargoed until after publication so I can’t share them yet, but I enjoyed the challenge of working in black and white and it’s always a pleasure to spend time in London.

It also provided me with an opportunity to see the new Banksy artwork in Waterloo Place. Blind Patriotism is a statue of a man in a suit (a politician?), stepping forward into a void, blinded by the large flag he is carrying. The symbolism isn’t hard to decipher.

The enormous artwork was erected in the centre of London, alongside existing statues and memorials. In a city where the nonsensical safety announcement, “See it. Say it. Sorted.” is endlessly repeated on every mode of public transport, it’s impressive that Banksy and his mates were able to erect a statue, seemingly without interruption.

A Double-Decker Project

I stayed in an apartment on Abbey Road whilst I was in London, very close to the famous music studio and pedestrian crossing that appears on the cover of the Beatles’ album of the same name.

Each morning I’d take the bright red 139 double-decker bus from Abbey Road to Waterloo Station and begin my black and white architecture assignment. Every evening I would take a 139 bus back to Abbey Road.

The 139 bus crosses the Thames, circles Trafalgar Square, travels up Regent Street and along Oxford Street to Piccadilly. It’s like a real life Monopoly board! The bus then heads north into the leafy suburbs of Maida Vale and Cricklewood towards its final destination at Golders Green.

In a throwback to misspent school days, I’d seek out the prime seat: upper deck, back row, beside the window. Looking out of the window of a London bus provides more fascinating viewing than anything you’re likely to find on Netflix.

You see tiny vignettes of the city, fragments of city-dwellers’ lives, all dreamily blurred by the patina of dirt and scratches of the bus window, but neatly framed within its borders.

On the third day, I decided to extend my bus journey and travel to the destinations at each end of the 139 line, making photos of the ever-moving city streets as the bus passed by.

A top-deck bus passenger has a unique perspective on the street: elevated above the height of pedestrians but still close enough to feel connected. Bus passengers travel on the street yet, anonymous behind glass, are one-step removed from it. This is very much how I prefer my social interactions – one-step removed and behind glass – so the bus is ideal!

I’ve collected two-dozen haphazard images from my trips on the 139 bus. You’ll find them on my website. Here are four that I like with some snippets of the description I’ve written to accompany them.

On the 139

Famous landmarks, forgotten corners, bustling cafes, red phone boxes, animated buskers and park benches slide past, all neatly framed in the bus window. The bus is impartial, wealth and ordinariness are afforded the same amount of time. People are briefly glimpsed and then gone forever.

A jogger’s shadow is stretched upon a wall. And is that John Malkovich reading a book in Costa Coffee?

Two friends embrace outside West Hampstead train station, the warmth of their reunion unnoticed by passersby but bringing a smile to any bus passengers who chance to look outside the window at the right moment.

There is no time to dwell, no time to imagine what each life holds before the next appears. These city scenes flow past endlessly, a river of the everyday and unremarkable made important by the act of being, albeit momentarily, seen and considered.

On the 139 – a Top-Deck Photo Project

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The Wider Angle

Two Exhibitions

I made time to visit two exhibitions in London and have chosen one photo from each.

Sony World Photography Awards

Somerset House is a wonderful exhibition venue but even its endless corridors are not large enough to contain all the winning entries from the Sony World Photography Awards.

I noticed visitors further down a corridor pausing to take a closer look at one picture in particular. Many picked up their phones to make their own record of the image.

The title of the image is ‘Muscle and Milk’, made by photographer Paul Wenham-Clarke.

“Three young mothers in their rugby kit stand just after the final whistle has blown, each breastfeeding her baby. It’s a tableau of strength and nurture, muscle and milk, competition and care. The match is over, but the work never ends. Longing for a level playing field, they demand parity. Longing for visibility, respect, and equality. For the right to feed without shame. For the sporting world where motherhood isn’t an interruption but part of the playbook. This is not a staged protest, it’s just life, unapologetically lived and it’s time we caught up.”

– Paul Wenham-Clarke

Paul and the three rugby-playing mothers have said all that needs to be said. It’s a fine photograph.

Being There: Witness, Truth & Trust

To mark World Press Freedom Day on 3 May, the Rory Peck Trust curated an exhibition of images from the world’s war-torn frontlines.

Journalists are increasingly targeted in war zones. The threat to photojournalists is especially high and their desire to freely tell the stories that we all need to see carries enormous risks.

Last year was the deadliest year on record for journalism. According to the Committee to Protect Journalists, at least 129 journalists and media workers were killed around the world.

The intimate gallery space belied the power of the images on display. One photograph shows the aftermath of an Israeli strike on a hospital.

The image beside it proved to be even more sobering.

It’s a portrait of the photojournalist who made the photo at the hospital, Mariam Abu Dagga.

She was killed by Israel, alongside four other journalists, while rushing to check on a colleague struck by Israel in al-Nasser hospital, where she had often reported throughout the war in Gaza.

Mariam was 33 years old. She had written two requests in her will: to her colleagues, do not cry at her funeral; to her 13-year-old son, Ghaith, make her proud.

She was posthumously honoured with the International Press Freedom Hero Award in recognition of her courageous reporting on the Gaza War.

The Rory Peck Trust and the Committee to Protect Journalists continue to advocate for, and provide resources to journalists working in dangerous situations and are always grateful for support.

My long-suffering editor often tells me that I should consider the flow of my newsletter content and avoid abrupt changes in tone. The next section illustrates how I have singularly failed to heed that advice. In my newsletter, as in life, the profound and the relatively inconsequential live side-by-side.

Xencelabs Tablet and Quick Keys

I’ve used a tablet for many years and find it easier than using a mouse, especially when refining masks in Lightroom or Photoshop, where precision is needed.

I’ve heard good things about Xencelabs products and recently picked up a Xencelabs Medium Tablet bundle, which is excellent.

As well as the tablet, two pens, various nibs and a robust travel case (nice touch), the bundle includes Quick Keys, eight buttons and a dial that can be fully-customised for different applications.

For Lightroom, I have different key settings for different modules. One for the Library, another for the Develop module, and a third for quickly adding ratings to images (see below).

I admire any product that does these three things:

1. Measurably improves an aspect of my life/work.

2. Works without fuss and doesn’t demand unreasonable time or effort to install and maintain.

3. Looks and feels like it was built by people who care about what they make.

I plugged the tablet in, picked up the pen – it worked. It took about 15 minutes to set up the customisations, I didn’t need to read a manual or watch a video tutorial. The Quick Keys allow me to move around Lightroom quickly. The pen sensitivity allows me to build layers in masks really easily, which is where it shines. It looks good, feels robust, isn’t glitchy or awkward.

I know something is working well when I forget about it. I spent a couple of hours editing in Lightroom and didn’t think about the pen or keys. It ticks all the boxes.

If you’d like to find out more about the Xencelabs tablets, you’ll find an affiliate link at the foot of this edition.

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And finally…

I had the good fortune to be in southern England as the bluebells were at their finest. I took my 81-year-old mother for a walk in a bluebell wood near Winchester.

Indomitable as ever, she donned her wellies, grabbed her second-best hat and skipped along the paths like a teenager.

She’s always loved being outdoors and it was a treat to see her exploring with her camera, seeking out the best perspectives, finding the places where sunlight illuminated the blue flowers.

Whatever this week holds in store for you, I hope you can approach it with the enthusiasm of an 81-year-old in a bluebell wood.

Go well.

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✤ Creative Inspiration

Lateral-thinking prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, designed with photographers in mind.

Read more and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

The most memorable images from a day’s work are often the ones that couldn’t have been planned. These unexpected moments tend to linger with the greatest clarity.

Pushkar

It’s early morning in Rajasthan – far too early to be civilised. Peeking through the door of my tent, I see a blanket of grey overhead. There’s a promise of a ride in a hot-air balloon if I can get to the other side of Pushkar before breakfast. But the light is dull and flat, hardly inspiring. In that moment, retreating to the comfort of my bed is the most tantalising prospect.

Still, I’m up now. Might as well make the most of the day. One never knows what rewards might be in store for an early-riser – even a reluctant one.

One hour later I’m standing in a large wicker basket, the twin burners are roaring flames, and we begin to float skyward.

Although the sun has risen, its light is diffused by clouds of dust and sand. There’s little contrast and the long, sharply defined shadows I’d seen in my dreams won’t appear for many hours, long after we’ve landed.

Nevertheless, there’s something about an elevated view of a landscape that shifts perspective, physically and emotionally. The ground-level busyness of tents and camels is reordered into punctuation marks upon a page of ochre sand.

I adjust my expectations – as one learns to do – and begin to appreciate the unusual geometries afforded by our elevated perspective.

And then something appears in the sky that I have never seen before, and may never see again.

Low above the hills to the east, the sun has shrunk to a narrow disc behind a gauze of dust. Around it an almost perfect circle of colour.

I’ve seen pale, wintery solar halos before. But this is a full, saturated spectrum: from deep red through amber and green to purple and electric blue.

Twenty-two degrees across, perfectly centred on the sun, solar halos form when light passes through ice crystals suspended high in the atmosphere, bending the light at exactly the right angle to project colour towards the observer.

Full spectrum solar halos are rare. Rarer still to see another hot-air balloon floating towards the circle of colour. There was little I could do to control our position relative to the other balloon so I could only will it to float closer to the halo. Our pilot sent a burst of flames into our balloon’s canopy and we climbed a few metres, just enough to reach the perfect elevation. As the halo resolved fully, the other balloon descended and I had time to make a single frame.

As is so often the case, photographic craft and technical experience had little to do with the making of this photo. Yes, I stopped the camera’s aperture down to ƒ/32 to give the halo definition but that’s not critical. Opportunities like this arrive when you’re willing to get up before dawn, to stand in flat light, to keep working even when it seems like the images you expected aren’t coming.

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World Press Photo 2026 Winners

The winning images for this year’s World Press Photo contest have been announced. In a year that was arguably more turbulent than any other in recent times, there’s much to see in the galleries of selected photos.

“This is a critical moment – for democracy, for truth, for the question of what we as a society are willing to see and call out and what we are willing to ignore. The photographers recognised here have done their part. They have made the record. Now it is our turn to look.”

– Kira Pollack, 2026 World Press Photo contest global jury chair

I’ve selected just three images from a diverse range of stories, each of which is deserving of our attention. These three photos had the most immediate impact on me but many others illustrate stories that don’t always make the headlines. Exploring the galleries of winning images has introduced me to many stories that I was not previously aware of.

Hong Kong

I will be surprised if Tyrone Siu’s photo is not chosen as the overall World Press Photo of the Year. The official announcement will be made later this month (April 2026).

All the essential information is contained in the frame: the scale of the physical destruction, the intensity of the human anguish, and the connection between the two. It brings us into the heart of that terrible event and allows us to see – and feel – Mr Wong’s pain. For me, it does what the best photojournalism aims to do: it brings an aspect of the human condition into stark reality and gives us pause to consider a universal truth – the intense pain of profound loss.

Argentina

There’s something biblical about Tadeo Bourbon’s image from a protest against Argentinian austerity measures. Swap the kevlar body armour for plate metal and the batons for spears and it could have been painted by Caravaggio.

Colombia

A young Ferley Ospina and his mother were forced to flee after Ferley’s father was murdered. Now a photographer, Ferley has photographed the women in his family – including five-year-old Valeria – to explore what he calls the “weight of absence” in a community where almost one-third of families are headed by single mothers.

Perhaps it’s a stretch on my part but I strongly suspect that the most sensitive, most considered images are often born of the most personal stories.

World Press Photo 2026 Winners’ Gallery

You can find the full collection of winning images on the World Press Photo website and highlights in a gallery on The Guardian website.

World Press Photo almost always lists the make and model of the camera used to make each image. My quick, unscientific review suggests that full-frame cameras are still the most popular, with a few smaller Fujifilm and drone cameras making an appearance. A complete analysis is perhaps a task ideally suited to AI.

The World Press Photo exhibitions are constantly touring and there’s likely to be one coming to a town near you.

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Competition Winner

Congratulations to the winner of the competition in Beyond the Frame 92/.

A rare copy of The Photographic Essay featuring the work of William Albert Allard will soon be heading ‘down-under’ to newsletter supporter and competition winner, Janice Johnson, who correctly identified that William Albert Allard was born in 1937.

The Wider Angle

The Taylor Wessing PHOTO PORTRAIT PRIZE 2026 is now open for entries until 21 April 2026.

The National Portrait Gallery’s annual photo contest has consistently highlighted photography that challenges viewers’ expectations. The winning images from 2024 and 2025 are typical examples. I really recommend reading the image captions and descriptions in full.

PALESTINE: Adam Rouhana’s article in the New York Times is over one year old and much has changed since it was published but I’m certain the main premise remains true.

Adam Rouhana, a Palestinian-American photographer, describes his frustration at seeing images of Palestine in the western media which are at odds with the images he was making of everyday life in the community where he lived.

His New York Times article attempts to redress the balance a little.

In a week when Israeli forces killed three journalists in Gaza and Lebanon in one day, the opportunity to appreciate nuance seems like a luxury we cannot afford. But I have respect for Adam for persevering and getting his photo essay widely published.

“Journalists are being killed at a pace and scale that should shock the conscience of the world. These are not isolated tragedies; they reflect a systematic failure to uphold the most basic protections owed to civilian journalists under international law.”

– Sara Qudah, CPJ’s Middle East and North Africa Regional Director.

NAPALM GIRL Update: If you’ve been following the controversy surrounding the Netflix ‘documentary’, The Stringer, you might have seen that Nick Ut – the photographer who’s always been credited as the author of the Napalm Girl photo – has filed a defamation suit against Netflix in France.

PetaPixel have also published an interview with Michael Ebert, who manages the photographic estate of Horst Faas, the Picture Editor accused of changing the credit on the original photo.

“Those who have passed away never doubted Nick Ut’s authorship, and those who are still alive view the allegation with scepticism, at the very least.”

– Michael Ebert

Amongst his colleagues, Nick Ut’s “body of work and reputation are so enduring that this film has not harmed him”, says Ebert. Meanwhile, the World Press Photo has not yet restored Nick Ut’s credit for the photo and the Netflix film has been nominated for several Emmys. Go figure.

It’s highly unlikely that the truth will ever be fully known. It doesn’t seem as if there’s any more evidence to uncover. Perhaps the outcome of Nick’s defamation suit will provide some sense of closure, one way or another.

ICELAND: When I first saw this, I was sure it was an April Fool’s prank. I’m still not convinced it isn’t. However, in the hope that one enthusiastic reader will apply and find out for sure, here’s an attractive – if double-edged – opportunity.

In an attempt to prove that even a poor photographer can’t help but make appealing images of Iceland, this contest promises impressive prizes for the worst photographer:

• A ten-day trip to Iceland

• All expenses paid

• $50,000 for “photos content and participation”

Applications for ‘really bad photographers’ close on 30 April 2026.

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And finally…

There’s a lot of dreariness around at the moment – and not only because I’m in England this week, where the weather is, unsurprisingly, cold, grey and damp. The news headlines seem to get bleaker every day and whilst we acknowledge the journalists who risk everything to keep us informed, some respite would be welcome.

Don’t worry. I’ve got you.

The Assembly is a series of TV interviews where celebrities are asked questions by a group of autistic and neurodivergent interviewers. The unfiltered questions range from “Are you happy to be alive?” to “Who is your dentist?”, all asked with the same authentic and disarming curiosity.

The new UK series earned a rare five-star review in The Guardian. In the first episode, Stephen Fry is asked, “How much have you spent on cocaine?” and “Can you help me meet Celine Dion?” The sincerity of the neurodivergent interviewers is met with refreshingly honest answers. It’s a simple but highly effective formula.

You can find many clips on YouTube. Here are two from the end of interviews where members of The Assembly house band perform a song that’s significant to their guest.

Sunshine on Leith performed for actor David Tennant

Movin’ on Up performed for actor Danny Dyer

I’m travelling for the rest of April and Beyond the Frame will take a break for the rest of this month. Paid subscriptions are automatically paused until May.

I wish you happy days and the very best light in the meantime.

Go well.

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✤ Creative Inspiration

Lateral-thinking prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, designed with photographers in mind.

Read more and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

Let me share a secret: photography is really just my excuse to speak with strangers.

A camera is a secret weapon that can dissolve the natural suspicion we all carry. A camera gives an immediate explanation for why we’re breaking a social norm: walking towards a stranger whilst making eye contact and smiling.

“I’m not crazy – I’m just a photographer.”

Most often, my conversations with strangers are about simple, seemingly unremarkable things. We’re all paying our bills, thinking about family, watching movies, meeting friends, planning for the future. Wherever I am in the world, conversations revolve around the same universal concerns. I find that reassuring.

I met Ajay in Varanasi, India’s most sacred city. Ajay works in his family shop during the day and sells postcards and henna on the street each evening.

“I like Bollywood. I watch every Sunday because Sunday is my holiday… For three hours: romance and funny… I like it because Bollywood is good for the mind, good for happiness.” – Ajay

I recorded some of our conversation and learned that Ajay’s mother makes “ten different kinds of trousers: cargo trousers, Ali-Baba trousers, fisherman’s trousers, Aladdin trousers, simple trousers, patchwork trousers…” and, memorably, that Ajay has three brothers, “Micky, Ricky and Nicky.”

Conversation with Ajay in Varanasi

I have hundreds of similar audio recordings, short but delightful snippets of conversations with strangers. When I’m too old to travel, perhaps I’ll listen to them whilst I’m walking the dog, a personal podcast of moments from around the world.

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Humans of New York

For more than 15 years, Brandon Stanton has shown the diversity of New York City through his photographs and interviews.

My husband had a sudden heart attack a few months ago. It was just a few blocks from here. They called me in to identify his body and then just let me walk right out onto 7th Avenue. I felt so lost. My friends were wonderful and supportive but eventually everyone moves on with their lives… I named her Grace because I think my husband sent her to me. She’s my first dog. She’s been pure joy. – HONY

It began with green accents. I’d mix green into my nail polish, and put green streaks in my hair… Children are always bringing me green things, and dropping letters into my mailbox… It really makes a big difference in life, not to be closed up. It’s a way of life. Whether you become a doctor, or a lawyer, or a green lady, you’re accomplishing what’s in your heart. – HONY

New Yorkers often reveal intimate stories – a reflection, no doubt, of the respectful energy Stanton brings to each encounter. He speaks about his approach briefly in this clip.

I just missed the Dear New York exhibit at Grand Central Station last year. It was perhaps the most viewed public art exhibition in history.

The first thing I noticed was a tremor. I’m a computer programmer and I kept accidentally hitting the shift key. Then I started to lose my sense of smell. And finally came the depression… That’s when I learned I had Parkinson’s. Over the years my tremors got worse. My voice got quieter. I had to quit working… I couldn’t express any emotion. My daughter grew up without seeing me smile… Then a few months ago I had an experimental surgery. They inserted a wire in my head that stimulates the brain with electricity. Now all my emotions are coming back. I’m more talkative. I have more energy. I’ve cried more in the last few months than I have in the past thirty years. And for the first time in her entire life, my daughter can finally see me smile. – HONY

You’ll find many more photos and stories on the Humans of New York Instagram page.

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The Wider Angle

BERLIN: Elise Blanchard’s photo of ten year-old Hajira, studying at home in Afghanistan, is the winning image in the UNICEF Photo of the Year competition.

The annual contest, organised by UNICEF Germany, highlights images that show the “personality and living conditions of children worldwide”. An exhibition of all the winning images is currently open at the Willy Brandt Haus in Berlin until 26 April 2026. You can also view the winning images on the Guardian website.

LONDON: A repeat recommendation – the Sony World Photography Awards exhibition at Somerset House from 17 April to 4 May.

I’ve been sent a code: EASTER20, for 20% discount on tickets until Monday 6 April.

NEW YORK: Sabiha Çimen is joining with Mary Ellen Mark, exhibiting images of girlhood.

A subtle thread connects the two photographers through an unexpected story: a girl named Emine, photographed by Mark in 1965 and later found decades on by Çimen. This encounter bridges past and present, underscoring how a single image can extend beyond its moment, shaping memory and meaning over time.

The Girls is currently showing at the Howard Greenberg Gallery in New York until 9 May 2026.

Read about Sabiha Çimen’s book Hafiz in Beyond the Frame 41/.

AMSTERDAM: Photojournalist Ed Kashi is returning to the Netherlands for a Photography Bootcamp, teaching the principles of visual storytelling.

The workshop will consist of a small group of 12 participants and it’s promoted by National Geographic, so expect places to go quickly.

Dates: 20 & 21 June 2026, Cost: 1,995 (Euros, presumably) + accommodation.

ONLINE: Leading picture editors will discuss how they commission work during The Photo Editor’s Perspective.

Anne Farrar, senior photo editor at National Geographic magazine, Quentin Nardi, chief photo editor of Smithsonian magazine, Maura Friedman, a senior photo editor at New York Magazine and others will talk about what they look for in story submissions, how to create a successful pitch and what makes a strong portfolio.

11 April 2026, 9:00 pm GMT via Zoom. $20

Even if you’re not a professional photographer seeking commercial opportunities, this promises to be an interesting, educational discussion. Plus it supports the Social Documentary Network, which is a good thing.

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And finally…

Listening to the recording of my brief conversation with Ajay and flicking through the Humans of New York stories has reminded me how important connecting with people is to our wellbeing.

It’s not always easy, especially now, in the age of social media, where virtual interactions have, to a degree, supplanted face-to-face interactions. But I think it just means we have to try a little harder to maintain our in-person connections. And if all else fails, pick up a camera. It helps.

I sometimes hear people complain that they meet a lot of weirdos on public transport. But I’ve been speaking to people on buses, trains and planes for years and I’ve never met one. – Joe Wilkinson (Comedian)

Go well.

PS – MPB, the place where I buy and sell camera gear, are kindly sponsoring this edition. If you click their advert above, it will let them know that Beyond the Frame readers are engaged – and also very handsome. Thank you.

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✤ Creative Inspiration

Lateral-thinking prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, designed with photographers in mind.

Read more and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

Some encounters are over almost before they’ve begun.

At the fringes of a festival that attracts tens of millions of visitors, I found a few quiet moments with this sadhu. I had just four minutes to make a portrait of Ramesh so needed to work quickly to build a connection, make the right lens choice, and find a composition that worked within the space.

At the foot of this edition – in the paid subscriber section – I’ve posted all the pictures I made of Ramesh together with a description of our meeting and my reflections on the process.

Paid subscribers: your exclusive content is below.

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The Art of the Photo Essay

I’ve been re-reading The Photographic Essay – a 1989 compilation of William Albert Allard’s photographs.

I say 're-reading', though 'dipping into it repeatedly over the last 20 years' is probably more accurate. The book is, to me, the perfect distillation of a documentary photographer’s life and approach to work. It features many of Allard’s most memorable images alongside descriptions of the photographer’s process and stories from assignments in the Basque region, Oaxaca, Peru and, of course, North America’s ‘West’.

From the first paragraphs in the book’s introduction, keen photographers know they have a book in their hands which will speak to their passion and encourage their enthusiasm for the art.

“Allard’s equipment, when working, is minimal: a couple of camera bodies and two or three lenses. He stubbornly adheres to Kodachrome – a notoriously unforgiving film – and then pushes it to the limits of acceptability with precariously long hand-held exposures further complicated by mixed lighting sources… His career is proof that only in taking risks – and being unafraid to fail in the process – can original work be created.”

– Sean Callahan, Editor of American Photographer 1978–1988

It’s a mystery to me why the book is no longer in print. You can occasionally find a second-hand copy on Amazon or World of Books. Not now though, I’ve just bought the last remaining copy, which I’m going to send to a paid newsletter subscriber!

Subscriber Competition

If you’re a paid subscriber and would like to enter the draw to win a copy of The Photographic Essay, click the link and answer one simple question:

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Picture Story v Photo Essay?

It’s perhaps a distinction that has become somewhat redundant as we are increasingly served stories in bite-sized chunks but, traditionally, picture stories were tight, narrative sequences leading to a conclusion. A photo essay is more thematic, goes deeper, gives the viewer space to inhabit the story.

“I was weaned on the classic picture story: a series of images brought together on a certain subject, person, or place that has a beginning, a middle and an end. In a picture story, you’re liable to see the same people throughout… it’s narrative. But the stories I’ve photographed aren’t picture stories. The stories I do for National Geographic are much closer to a photographic essay. I’d define the photo essay in much broader terms. There’s more room for impressionism in a photo essay, and this leaves more room for the viewer.”

– William Albert Allard

I could happily quote the entire book for you. But I will just drop in this wee gem, where Allard is discussing the layout of picture stories in magazines, and the use of prominent, big pictures versus smaller, less ‘consequential’ pictures.

“I don’t think you can make a photo essay of big pictures and little pictures. I have never gone out with the idea of making a little picture.”

– William Albert Allard

Teaching photography

I had the good fortune to lead a photo workshop in Bangkok with William Albert Allard and my dear – and greatly missed – friend, Jack Kurtz. I met Bill – I’m allowed to call him Bill – in Cortona at a photography festival. When I asked if he’d be interested in leading a photography workshop in Thailand, he just replied, “Yes. When is it?”

The chance to work somewhere new, combined with an opportunity to teach, was all Bill needed to hear. After our workshop in Bangkok, we began to make plans for a photo workshop in Sicily but, sadly, Covid got in the way and I don’t suppose that’s likely to happen now.

If you’ll excuse a self-indulgent interruption, looking through my archive, I found these two photos. One of me with Mr. Allard in Cortona (note which one of us is always carrying a camera – although I think I’ve matched Bill with my choice of hat) and one taken over coffee with Jack Kurtz in Bangkok, after he’d returned from the US with two gifts: a copy of The Photographic Essay and a gas mask – we were photographing political protests at the time and tear gas was a regular threat. Happy times.

It was a privilege to teach alongside Bill Allard. He taught me as much as he taught our students. The most important lesson? His passion. When I met him at Bangkok airport for our workshop, he shook my hand and put his Leica around his neck. I don’t think I saw him without that camera again until I waved him farewell two weeks later. Bill Allard is not a man who takes photographs, he’s a photographer, all day, every day.

I’m reminded of this by another section in The Photographic Essay, where Bill is overheard speaking to photography students:

“If you’ve got a lack of passion, I’m not gonna fix it. You’ve got to push yourself harder. You’ve got to start looking for pictures nobody else could take. You’ve got to take the tools you have and probe deeper.”

– William Albert Allard

All of this is by way of an introduction to two examples of contemporary photo essays which caught my eye this week.

It’s tremendously reassuring to see that the photo essay is still alive and well. The winners of the 2026 ZEKE awards are thought-provoking, educational, and lovingly crafted. All the best ingredients for a photo essay.

2026 ZEKE Awards

The Spring 2026 edition of ZEKE Magazine includes the winning photo essays for two annual awards.

Both winning photo essays document important but under-reported issues. And both provide telling examples of how it’s possible to sensitively document stories that are challenging to convey in still images.

ZEKE Award for Systemic Change

Out for Blood by Ginevra Bonina

Out for Blood documents the most extreme consequence of period poverty in India, defined as limited access to safe menstrual products, adequate sanitation, and education.

Through voices from Hindu, Muslim, and Adivasi communities, the report documents lives and environments while addressing inequality, violence, taboos, sustainability, and healthcare access.

ZEKE Award for Documentary Photography

Bullets Have No Borders by Ebrahim Alipoor

Bullets Have No Borders shows the lives of Kurdish kolbars – porters who carry goods on arduous journeys across the Iran-Iraq border.

Photographed over nearly a decade with close access and long-term trust, the images reveal how an invisible economy operates through fear and endurance. At the same time, they show dignity, solidarity, and responsibility as forces that sustain individuals and communities.

Both winning photographers will take part in an online panel discussion of their work and their winning projects.

Wednesday, 1 April 2026, 1:30pm Eastern Time.

Free to attend on Zoom.

Register for Panel Discussion

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Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Photography contests, exhibitions, documentaries, podcasts, articles, and more.

❖ See – Magnum Square Print Sale

The theme of Magnum’s current square print sale is Odyssey.

For one week only, until 29 March 2026, selected images from the Magnum archive are available in highly-collectible square print format. All prints are either hand-signed by the photographer or estate-stamped.

It’s an eclectic collection of over 100 photos spanning many decades. Whatever your taste, you’ll almost certainly find something to tempt you.

Here’s Magnum photographer Mark Power speaking about a previous square print sale.

❖ See – Sony World Photography Awards

Somerset House – one of my favourite exhibition venues – will host an exhibition of winning images from the 2026 Sony World Photography Awards, 17 April to 4 May 2026.

There’s also an opportunity to attend a talk by Joel Meyerowitz on 21 April.

I’ll be attending the exhibition and the talk so if you’re going to be in London, let me know.

◘ Read – Iran through the eyes of its artists

Films, books and music recently made by Iranian artists and journalists, which offer perspectives on a diverse nation that we might not be seeing much of in our current news cycles.

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✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

I never fail to feel inspired and re-invigorated after reading The Photographic Essay. There’s much wisdom to be found in Bill Allard’s words. They’re not trite or hackneyed truisms; they’re simple, straightforward pieces of advice from somebody who’s dedicated a lifetime pursuing a passion.

I can look at three of Bill Allard’s photos, read a page from the book, and that’s enough to fire up my imagination and get me out of the door with my camera.

And that’s really all we need to do: get out of the door with a camera. In an increasingly complex world, it’s reassuringly simple.

Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing this week, I hope you’ll find yourself with a camera in your hand.

Go well.

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Related editions

Discover more in the Beyond the Frame Directory Archive and Resource Library.

Looking back at a brief encounter

The Kumbh Mela festivals, held in India every four years, are the most crowded festivals on the planet. It’s estimated that 120 million visitors attended the festival in 2013 (yes, that’s not a typo), with a record 30 million on a single day in 2001.

Making photos at an event like a Kumbh Mela seems straightforward – there’s something fascinating to see in every direction – but it can actually present a significant challenge. Isolating subjects and making considered compositions amidst the chaos, dust and noise demands full concentration.

I met a sadhu, Ramesh, on the outskirts of the main festival grounds. The image at the top of this edition comes from our brief encounter.

Looking back at the other frames I made of Ramesh, I wish I could have spent more time with him but I was leading a photo workshop at the time so this quick sequence was made in the four minutes I could spare. It was just enough time to establish an unspoken connection and for me to swap lenses from an 85mm ƒ/1.2 to a 15–35mm ƒ/2.8 and back again.

There are nine frames made with an 85mm lens. The first, regrettably, is out of focus! The next four are landscape format, which suited his relaxed posture – and which don’t crop out his left arm. I made four more frames after Ramesh, obligingly, adopted a more formal pose, turning his gaze skyward, but they’re ambiguous. Is he praying, looking at the roof of his tent, meditating, or in a trance?

There’s a 60-second gap when I swapped cameras but that was mostly because I wanted to give Ramesh a moment to pause and relax. The next, wide-angle frame is perhaps the most natural and catches Ramesh in a moment of shared laughter.

A brief pause provides an opportunity for someone to take a breath and relax from a stiff posture, which can lead to a more authentic photo.

The image at the top of this edition is the one that’s been licensed by picture editors – it meets a certain – probably Western – expectation. But the single frame where Ramesh is laughing is, for me, a more accurate depiction of the friendly sadhu I met.

It’s a short sequence from a rather too-hurried exchange but it shows how it’s possible to introduce variety within the restrictions of an impromptu meeting using only the existing backgrounds and available, natural light.

What would I do differently if I could go back in time?

I ask myself this question when I’m looking through my photo archive. Sometimes better strategies are obvious in retrospect. Most often, the answer to that hypothetical question is that I would spend more time in a location. Very rarely, if ever, do I think that I should have left sooner.

Circumstances made staying longer impossible in this example. Sometimes the most accurate answer is to recognise that the limitations of the moment didn’t afford a great variety of perspectives – but we can acknowledge that we made the most of what was available. Ramesh and I met, we established a quick, informal connection, we shared some laughter. I made at least one frame that meets magazine readers’ expectations of what a sadhu at the Kumbh Mela might look like. I made another frame that serves as a personal record of a friendly interaction. That’s a reasonable outcome from four minutes’ work. Although, as is almost invariably the case, I appreciate that the person I photographed has contributed more to the results than I have.

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If it’s difficult at first to see the woman in the photo above, that’s intentional – my photo reflects the deliberate obstruction imposed upon women at this shrine. Women are prohibited from entering. They must offer their prayers from beyond a screen. Consequently, women at the shrine are only ever seen (by men) from this fractured perspective, never whole.

The provocative words, Witches and Bitches, exemplify derogatory descriptions applied to outspoken women throughout history. They are not my words. They are words that have been reappropriated by Magnum’s Global Cultural Director Andréa Holzherr, now used to describe independent, free-spirited, defiant women.

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Celebrating defiant women

Andréa Holzherr has chosen images from the Magnum archive that show women protesting and resisting.

“For centuries, women who refused obedience have been given names meant to offend: Witch. Bitch. Words thrown at women who speak too loudly, desire too freely, live too independently, or simply step outside the narrow frame of what is considered acceptable.

Witches & Bitches are daughters, mothers, artists, lovers, fighters, leaders….they choose their own paths, define their own bodies, and invent their own rules.” – Andréa Holzherr

Listen

One of the images that caught my eye in the Magnum collection is this photo, entitled Imaginary CD cover for Sahar.

Newsha Tavakolian’s photo essay, Listen, highlights the restrictions placed on female singers in Iran, where women are effectively banned from singing in public performances.

“A woman’s voice represents a power that, if you silence it, imbalances society, and makes everything deform.” – Newsha Tavakolian

Newsha’s imagined album covers represent something that is not allowed to exist. In place of these women’s voices, there is only absence, silence.

Googoosh

Seeing imagined covers for music that is not allowed to exist is disturbing. I wanted to find some balance, some examples of Iranian women singing, either before the 1979 revolution or from the Persian diaspora.

A quick search led me to Googoosh, an Iranian singer described by the New York Times as “Iran’s Barbra Streisand, Linda Ronstadt, Cher, Edith Piaf and Madonna rolled into one.”

“Her songs were romantic, not political, and while they drew on Western styles, they held onto both the fervour of Persian love poetry and the sliding, quivering, impassioned phrasing of traditional Persian music.” – New York Times

Googoosh’s level of fame inside Iran cannot be overstated. Not only was she a famous singer, she acted in nearly 30 films, made regular TV appearances, was a popular trend-setter and revered fashion icon.

“Her fans saw her as a person who did not tolerate injustice, who did not shirk her responsibilities toward her art and the people, as well as a source of inspiration for women who were fighting against stone-age expectations of a patriarchal society.” – From iranwire.com

After the 1979 revolution, Googoosh was forced to stop singing in public. For 21 years she was silent, until finally given permission to tour overseas in 2000.

“She was decidedly modest, wearing long dresses and gesturing almost entirely with graceful arms and hands, restraining herself from motion below the shoulders. For her encore she came back barefoot. It was an uptempo song, and she was shaking with, apparently, the suppressed urge to dance, until she allowed herself a final kick.” – New York Times

Here’s Googoosh performing at Expo 2020, shortly before announcing her retirement.

Googoosh’s music has been playing almost non-stop in our house this week. I have not suppressed the urge to dance, a privilege I am acutely aware not everybody enjoys. For what it’s worth, I’m proudly dancing on the side of the witches and the bitches.

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Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

▲ Listen – Get Birding with Sean Bean

Yes, truly, this birdwatching podcast is presented by proud son of Yorkshire turned Hollywood star, Sean Bean.

What’s next? Train Spotting with Meryl Streep?

How has a birdwatching podcast presented by Sean Bean found its way into a newsletter celebrating independent women?

Well, it’s the result of a series of connections – much like a game of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon – which led me from Sean Bean to Googoosh:

• In the birdwatching podcast, Sean Bean chats with Guy Garvey, lead singer of uplifting chart-toppers, Elbow.

• Guy Garvey presents a superb weekly BBC Radio show, Guy Garvey’s Finest Hour. On International Women’s Day he interviewed English folk music’s rising star, Katherine Priddy.

• Katherine Priddy’s new album, These Frightening Machines, features the track Matches, about medieval witch trials and the language we still use to describe them.
  “Remember you who tell the tale of how we climbed those pyres,
  They weren’t burning witches, it was women on those fires.”

• I was listening to Katherine Priddy’s album when an email from Magnum landed, including a link to their article reclaiming “Witches and Bitches”.

• That article introduced me to Newsha Tavakolian’s photo essay Listen, about the silencing of women singers in Iran.

• In turn, Newsha’s essay led to my discovery of Googoosh, the famous Persian singer whose voice was silenced by cultural restrictions.

There you go: Sean Bean to Googoosh in six easy steps.

I can recommend the birdwatching podcast. It’s beautifully produced, measured and gentle. Sean Bean, who’s been an enthusiastic bird watcher for a lot longer than he’s been an actor, speaks with genuine affection about his love of nature and explains how it’s kept him grounded and “sane” during his long career.

★ Engage – Canon Female Photojournalist Grant

This is the twenty-sixth year that Canon will be recognising the work of a female photojournalist. This year’s recipient will be announced at Visa pour l’Image in Perpignan in the summer.

★ Engage – Camille Lepage Award

I wrote about the all-too-short life of photojournalist Camille Lepage in Beyond the Frame 47/. This will be the twelfth annual award of a grant given in her memory and will also be awarded at Visa pour l’Image later this year.

❖ See – Gordon Parks in London and Atlanta

“Some exhibitions feel important. Others feel necessary.” – Jackson Fine Art Press Release

From the 1940s to the 2000s, photographer Gordon Parks documented everyday life in America, showing the impact of injustice and discrimination. Two exhibitions concentrate on Parks as a humanitarian, motivated by a desire for social justice.

“I picked up a camera because it was my choice of weapon against what I hated most about the universe: racism, intolerance, poverty.” – Gordon Parks

If you’re in London or Atlanta in the coming weeks, seeing Gordon Parks’ evocative photographs would be time very well spent.

Gordon Parks exhibitions

See Gordon Parks: We Shall Not Be Moved at the Alison Jacques Gallery in London, from now until 11 April 2026.

See Gordon Parks: The South in Colour at the Jackson Fine Art Gallery in Atlanta from 2 April to 13 June, 2026.

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

Subscribe now

And finally…

I intend to spend much of the weekend listening to Googoosh and Katherine Priddy. I hope that whatever you have planned for the weekend lifts you up.

Until next time, go well.

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◼︎ Directory: Archive of Beyond the Frame newsletters.

◼︎ Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

Related editions:

In this edition I’m exploring how AI tools might soon be taking on digital photography workflow tasks – and the consequences for photographers when AI takes control of digital photography.

I asked AI to search my image archive and find an appropriate image to illustrate “Artificial Intelligence” (above). I think it’s made an interesting choice. I’m not sure I would have made a better selection.

I also asked AI to write a caption for the image, without the benefit of any context or metadata. The caption I wrote includes specifics but AI produced a perfectly usable alternative.

My Caption:

“A man and a woman interact with a digital ‘waterfall’ of data at an immersive exhibit inside the Japan Pavilion, Expo Milano 2015, Milan, Italy.”

AI Caption:

“Two people interact with projected images on an illuminated interactive table display in a dark exhibition space with blue ambient lighting and curtain backdrop.”

I spent a morning playing with AI tools, seeing what I could build simply by supplying text prompts. I have little experience with AI. I’m not a web designer or an experienced coder. I simply described what I wanted. The results are more impressive than I’d anticipated.

A fictional, AI-enhanced video created from the still image above.

Web Tools

I am simultaneously intrigued and apprehensive about AI. The potential benefits are probably beyond what we can imagine, but so too are the potential costs.

My fears are not allayed by the rhetoric coming from the broligarchy who control AI development.

“AI will probably most likely lead to the end of the world, but in the meantime, there’ll be great companies.” [sic]
– Sam Altman, CEO of OpenAI, owner of ChatGPT

Good to know. Thanks, Sam.

Understanding AI

However, before we all become extras in a Terminator spin-off, I think it’s wise to try and understand what AI is capable of. A better understanding will allow us to make more informed decisions about the degree to which we are happy to allow AI into our lives – assuming that’s even within our control!

The most optimistic analysis accepts that the art of photography will be completely redefined in the next 5–10 years, but I hope photographers can adapt and find an alternative path.

So what practical benefits can AI offer photographers right now?

How I built AI Web Tools

My elementary investigation began by building some simple web applications.

I prompted Anthropic’s Claude AI with detailed descriptions of what I wanted. The more comprehensive the prompt, the better the results. All the code was created by AI.

It took about 10 minutes to build each tool! To me, that’s astonishing. I have a reasonable understanding of HTML, CSS, JavaScript etc. but the complexity of the apps AI built is beyond my comprehension.

AI was able to fine-tune the apps based on my preferences. It debugged code when needed, which was rare. Each of these tools was ready to publish in under 60 minutes. The relatively simple Four Thousand Weeks tool was built from scratch and published in under 15 minutes.

The tools are currently online and free to test. You are very welcome to try them out.

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Image Analyser

Every digital imaging tool already has automated features. In Lightroom, the Auto exposure button can recover shadows and highlights, adjust colours and contrast, calculating the ‘optimum’ development adjustments. I wanted to find out how simple it would be to build an effective AI-driven tool.

The answer is: it’s incredibly simple. With a few text prompts, I was able to direct AI to build a reasonable Image Analyser Tool. I instructed AI to create a Lightroom-style Auto adjustment together with options for an Analogue Emulation and a Chrome Emulation (extra contrast and saturation).

I also instructed AI to provide a text interpretation of the image with explanations for its processing decisions. For the image above, this is what it produced:

Editorial: The composition features iconic colourful beach huts with excellent colour separation and clean lines, though the bright red hut dominates; slight exposure reduction preserves texture in the saturated surfaces whilst the clear sky and ocean context provide strong environmental storytelling.

White Balance: Slight warming and minor tint reduction to neutralise the blue sky whilst preserving the natural beach atmosphere and vibrant hut colours.

Exposure: Modest reduction to prevent blown highlights in the yellow roof and maintain detail across the bright beach scene.

Contrast: Gentle increase to add depth and separation between the colourful huts whilst maintaining the soft, coastal light quality.

Tonal Range: Careful highlight recovery with moderate shadow lift ensures detail retention in both the bright structures and darker door/window areas, whilst subtle black point adjustment maintains tonal depth.

Various adjustment sliders mirror the options found in Lightroom Classic and AI produced a decent user interface with very little prompting from me.

I wouldn’t necessarily recommend it as a viable way to process images. It was really just a proof of concept experiment. But I have to say, the results are way better than I expected. From this example, it’s easy to see how AI could be used by photographers to create a custom automation tool, based on their particular development preferences.

Go ahead, try it for yourself.

Caption & Keyword Generator

Adding captions and keywords is an irksome but essential admin task. Writing accurate captions helps me remember salient facts: names, locations, events, etc. Keywords help me locate specific images and make connections between themes.

As AI becomes increasingly sophisticated, its capacity to identify key elements in a photo is improving. I wanted to see how well AI can add relevant captions and keywords, so I built a Caption and Keyword Generator.

1. Upload an image

2. Select a language

3. Click [Generate]

In the example above, AI produced this caption and these keywords:

“Nepali woman carrying bundle of fresh green fodder on her back along rural mountain path, wearing traditional floral patterned clothing and headscarf”

Agriculture, Asia, Basket, Burden, Carrying, Clothing, Culture, Farming, Fodder, Green, Harvest, Headscarf, Himalayan, Labour, Livelihood, Mountain, Nepal, Outdoors, Portrait, Rural, Smiling, South Asia, Subsistence, Traditional, Transportation, Village, Woman, Work, Worker

How did AI know the woman is Nepali? I made a point of removing all metadata, there’s no geotag… She is Nepali, as it happens. But that’s a surprisingly accurate detail.

Would AI be so confident with other images? I ran some tests.

Elderly woman wearing traditional blue gho and plaid kira carries woven bamboo basket through pine forest in mountainous region of Bhutan.
– AI-generated caption

OK, those clothes are traditionally Bhutanese so there are clues but that’s also surprisingly accurate.

I tried many images, secretly hoping AI would make a mistake.

Woman tea picker harvesting fresh tea leaves on hillside plantation in mountainous region, wearing traditional ethnic minority clothing and carrying woven basket.
– AI-generated caption

For this photo, AI wasn’t so sure about the location, although did correctly identify the tea plants. Interestingly, it didn’t guess the location so this isn’t a bad caption to use as a starting point.

AI didn’t include the fact that the woman is smiling and I would have included that. It’s the kind of detail that seems important to me.

Agriculture, Asia, Basket, Cultivation, Ethnic Clothing, Farm Worker, Farming, Harvest, Hillside, Labour, Mountain, Outdoors, Picking, Plantation, Rural, Tea, Tea Leaves, Tea Picker, Traditional Clothing, Woman, Worker
– AI-generated Keywords

The keywords are pretty good too. There aren’t many that I’d add to the AI list, other than specific location details.

Pros

One thing that’s immediately apparent is that AI can write captions and keywords in languages that I don’t know. I added five languages to the tool but could have included pretty much any other. That’s a very useful addition for anybody providing stock images to libraries who want foreign language captions.

It would be simple to produce both American and British English spellings in captions and keywords, e.g. “Colour, Color”. That’s something that I try to remember to include when I’m adding keywords but I know I’m not always consistent.

Cons

AI is good at generic terms but can’t identify people without reference images. It won’t understand the nuance of a scene, can’t know the context. For now, AI can provide a useful foundation and fill in some gaps but the photographer will need to provide specific details for really accurate captions.

Summary

I don’t expect to be spending nearly as many hours writing tedious captions and keywords in future. That’s a welcome improvement but it also sounds an alarm bell as I realise this is a good example of how tantalising AI can be.

Image Licensing Calculator

I wrote about the Image Licensing Calculator in the previous edition. It’s a relatively straightforward tool. A spreadsheet can perform the same task quite easily – and, indeed, that’s what I’ve used for many years.

Pros

There are no AI functions in the tool’s calculation. Building this tool served as an experiment, for me to learn how quickly and easily AI can build a usable tool.

Genuinely, it works. I’ll use it in future and can point clients to the web page so they can perform their own licensing fee calculations.

Cons

Hmm, I can’t think of any downsides. Perhaps you can?

Summary

The tool was simple to build and it works. Job done.

Four Thousand Weeks Lifespan Chart

This isn’t related to photography specifically, but it is a thought-provoking tool.

I’m reading Oliver Burkeman’s book, Four Thousand Weeks. It has a simple, sobering premise. The average human lifespan is 4,000 weeks. We tend to think of age in years – and years can seem like a long time. Recalibrating to weeks reminds us that “the average human lifespan is absurdly, terrifyingly, insultingly short.”

The Four Thousand Weeks tool provides a visual illustration of our finite time on earth. The example above shows 4,000 weeks for a person born on 1 January, 1990. They will be 36 years old now and have already lived almost 50% of an average lifespan.

At a glance, we can see the weeks already lived and the time remaining until our 4,000th week.

It’s quite a stark illustration. And that’s the point, I suppose. Time slips by. Weeks turn into months. Months turn into years. Years turn into a lifetime.

You’re welcome to try it with your own date of birth. I take no responsibility for how it leaves you feeling.

The small orange dot indicates where we are now. The blank spaces ahead wait to be filled. Next week the unstoppable orange dot will have filled the next empty space. What will we have filled that week with?

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What does AI mean for photographers?

I was going to write, “There’s good news and there’s bad news.”

That’s not really accurate. It’s very subjective.

Whether the news is good or bad depends upon one’s perspective.

If you don’t delight in time-consuming admin tasks, AI is likely to be your new best friend.

The Good?

Take the example photo at the top of this edition.

In less than three hours, I was able to prompt AI to build tools that can:

1. Analyse images

2. Make development adjustments

3. Write captions and keywords

4. Provide a professional licence fee calculation

It’s a small step to imagine a fully-automated workflow. Very soon I‘ll be able to insert a memory card into my computer and AI will run the complete workflow:

1. Ingest the images, make backups, delete duplicates

2. Cull the rejects – Adobe have recently added this functionality to Lightroom

3. Process the “Selects” in line with my development preferences

4. Write captions and keywords

5. Upload an optimised selection to my online archive

6. Process licensing enquiries and calculate fees

7. Deliver an invoice and check for completed payments

Put it this way, I’m not planning on writing any manual workflow tutorials in the near future!

The Bad?

If that seems like a great time-saving solution, I think it probably is. Either way, this picture of the future seems inevitable.

Very soon, there will be little reason to justify human involvement in the processing of digital images. Arguably, any human input will be meaningless, just one combination of adjustments from an infinite library of possibilities that AI can access instantly.

I’m choosing to gloss over the fact that AI can only be so clever because it’s been given free access to billions of digital images without asking (or compensating) the original copyright holders. That ship has long since left the harbour.

I don’t see a future where digital photographers are sitting at a screen, adjusting sliders in Lightroom or CaptureOne.

Some might argue that the human interpretation makes a difference. The photographer who made the image will know the context, understand the location, will know what the light was like at the time the image was made… all things that Artificial Intelligence cannot appreciate.

I hate to say it but the truth is, nobody cares.

Pixels will enter the process at one end, AI-manipulated images will emerge at the other, captioned and ready for distribution. Nutritionally unsavoury yet ubiquitous and inexplicably popular.

A resurgence for film photography?

My prediction, for what it’s worth, is that people who appreciate the art of photography will return to film.

To some extent, that’s already happening. Sales of film stock have increased by 15–20% each year since 2022.

There’s been a 30% increase in photography workshops devoted to film between 2022 and 2024. 68% of photography enthusiasts under the age of 35 expressed a preference for working with film. (Source: Market Growth Reports)

‘Digital fatigue’ is already a genuine condition and I see photography diverging into two clear and distinct paths in the very near future.

Digital photography will become a professional occupation with diminishing returns. This won’t be news to many professional photographers. Ask a stock photographer who was making a handsome living in the latter part of the 20th century if they’re still raking in a generous monthly commission cheque and you’re likely to get a slap.

Almost all digital images will be made on devices no larger than your smartphone. Files will be processed and distributed automatically by AI.

Meanwhile, film photographers will make a point of eliminating AI and automation from their workflow. The distinction between analogue and digital will reach the point where they’re considered two very different disciplines.

Personally, I’m excited by that prospect.

I’m looking forward to Kodak announcing the reintroduction of Kodachrome (keep the faith). I won’t shed a tear when I’m no longer obliged to sit at a computer for hours on end, editing, processing, captioning, keywording.

I’m looking forward to using a Lightbox and a magnifying loupe again, handwriting captions on tiny stickers. Perhaps I’ll finally get back into a darkroom, a prospect that delights me.

You might wonder why I’ve spent time building AI tools if I’m not overly positive about an AI-driven photographic future? Much like viewing potential places to live, one needs to look around the premises, explore the garden, and drive around the neighbourhood before deciding whether it’s a place you’d like to call home.

For now, I’m still sufficiently intrigued by AI to try and understand its potential but I’m sure the day will soon arrive when it outpaces my ability to understand it. At that point, I shall return to film, return to the darkroom, return to a satisfying analogue existence. If that day is tomorrow, I won’t be sorry.

After all, there aren’t so many empty boxes remaining in my Four Thousand Weeks chart. I might as well fill them meaningfully! 🤩

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Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

☆ Read – Is Documentary Photography at a Crossroads?

An article in Aperture magazine exploring the impact of Artificial Intelligence on Documentary photography.

The Winter 2025 edition of Aperture includes stories about “photographers who make pictures the slow way – building camera obscura, creating photograms, and labouring in traditional darkrooms to make handmade, unrepeatable forms.”

▶︎ Watch – Coded Bias

Coded Bias provides a fascinating insight into how AI algorithms are built upon skewed data, which can reinforce stereotypes and increase social exclusion.

Available on Apple TV+, Amazon Prime, and Kanopy.

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

Subscribe now

And finally…

Does AI feature in your daily life? Are you using AI for photography? I’m keen to learn how people are using AI and to what extent it’s now commonplace. How do you feel about AI? Excited? Nervous? Let me know in the comments.

Now I’m going to share this edition with AI and ask it to provide a final observation. Yes, I’m giving AI the final word – it seems that’s our likely destiny in any case. 😬

“There is a photograph that doesn’t exist yet. You haven’t made it. No algorithm predicted it. It will come from the specific weight of a particular morning, from a decision taken at the last second, from something you noticed that no one else thought to look for. That photograph cannot be automated. It can only be waited for – and you are the only one doing the waiting.”
– Claude AI

Until next time, go well.

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◼︎ Directory: Archive of Beyond the Frame newsletters.

◼︎ Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

A Parisian Encounter

I met a woman in Paris many years ago.

I was having lunch at Le Grand Colbert. Outside it was February, grey and raining.

The restaurant was busy, so I was not surprised when a woman sat in the unoccupied seat at my table for two.

She sat sideways on, not facing me.

Black shoes, black dress, black bobbed hair. I guessed she was in her mid-40s, but she could have been much older.

She lit a cigarette – which tells you how long ago this encounter took place.

A waiter arrived to take her order.

“Château Léoville. The ’61, not the ’63.”

She ordered with the casual confidence of somebody for whom this was not an extravagance.

She leant one elbow on the back of the chair, her cigarette aloft, as if she was holding it for an absent friend.

Without turning, but assured of my attention, she began to speak.

“You’re a photographer?”

I assumed she’d noticed my camera resting on the table.

“I am.”

She turned to face me for the first time.

“I have been searching for a metaphor.”

“Oh?” I replied. “For what?”

“For love.”

I waited.

“For joy. For hope. For friendship. For those things which appear when we expect them least but need them most.”

“I see,” I said, although, in truth, I did not.

The waiter returned and poured red wine into two glasses.

She took a sip, put her glass down, looked up and fixed me in her gaze.

“Will you help me?”

“I’m just a photographer, not a philosopher,” I stuttered.

She stubbed her cigarette into an ashtray. Looked up again.

“Of course!”

Then she stood and walked away. I watched her leave.

The waiter opened the door. She paused, looked back over her shoulder for a single beat.

The door closed behind her and she was gone.

I blinked back to earth. A daydream, surely?

I asked for “L’addition, s’il vous plaît”. When it came, the bill included the bottle of Château Léoville beside an amount that was all too real.

Nepal – some years later

Things that appear when we expect them least…

Like an umbrella on a sunny day.

At the Boudhanath Stupa in Nepal, many years before the devastating earthquake that would crack the elegant spire, a group of Buddhist monks are paying their respects to the enigmatic Buddha and his all-seeing wisdom.

There is not a cloud in the sky, but one monk holds a multi-coloured umbrella high above his head, more like an offering than as protection from the elements.

That might have been my first notable encounter with a rainbow umbrella. It’s the first one I remember photographing.

The rainbow umbrella brings an unexpected splash of colour which alters the scene and shifts my perspective.

Indonesia – a coincidence?

A different country, a different religion, another sacred site.

At the Besakih temple on the slopes of Mount Agung, a group of pilgrims have reached the summit and offer their prayers at the lotus throne.

Another rainbow umbrella is placed on the ground, facing the holy sanctuary, as if it is participating in the sacred ritual.

It’s just a few weeks since my first encounter with the rainbow umbrella in similar circumstances in Nepal. The coincidence registers.

India

Six months later, I’m walking along the ghats beside the sacred river Ganges in Varanasi. The sun is already high in the sky, sending shards of light through the haze.

The light has that level of intensity that drains all subtlety from colour. Everything is either too brightly lit or in deep shadow. I have little hope of finding gentle, nuanced scenes at this time of day.

A dot of colour in the distance catches my eye and a now-familiar rainbow-coloured circle grows larger as I walk nearer.

Sheltered from the sun, a man is reciting verses from a book. He sees me and without pausing nods an invitation for me to sit and share his shady retreat.

I quietly make photos as he continues to chant. At the conclusion of certain passages, he presses his forehead against the open pages.

Here it is again, the rainbow umbrella providing a backdrop to an act of gentle devotion. A colourful cascade of light, seemingly emanating from this devotee’s thoughtful reverie.

Thailand

The rainbow umbrella began to appear in my life with increasing regularity. Always unexpected, but never unappreciated. Like seeing an old, beloved friend in an unfamiliar location.

In the lush, green forests of northern Thailand, the rainbow umbrella came bobbing above the foliage long before the mahout and his elephant were visible.

Wherever I go…

For the past 20 years or more, the rainbow umbrella has continued to make regular appearances.

During another job in India, I see it spinning down a street towards me, apparently unaided. As it gets closer, I see four tiny legs emerge.

The second image – entirely unplanned – was licensed by a camera manufacturer for a promotional campaign. Thank you rainbow umbrella.

Occasionally tatty, sometimes misshapen, the rainbow umbrella provides protection from flooded streets to remote Himalayan trails. Mothers and daughters, carpenters and tailors, street vendors and railway workers… the rainbow umbrella has got them all covered, more or less.

Serendipity

You might wonder if the rainbow umbrella appearances are merely coincidence. That’s not unreasonable.

But I’m not so sure.

Walking from my home in Bangkok to a local supermarket, I take a short cut through an abandoned plot where off-duty street vendors leave their carts. There’s never anybody there, no homes, no offices.

After a rain shower, I discover a rainbow umbrella. It looks brand new. It’s sitting beside a puddle in the middle of the lot, as if posing, waiting for its portrait to be made.

I look around. I’m the only person here. How did it get there? Nobody knows. Does it have a message? It’s not saying.

I make the photo and carry on, leaving it where it lies. When I return, it has gone. Without the photo, I might doubt it was ever really there.

A quest fulfilled?

A metaphor, she said.

For those things which appear when we expect them least but need them most.

The rainbow umbrella is, perhaps, the closest I’ve come.

Pour elle.

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Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

☆ Read – The Reckless Women Who Changed Journalism

To mark International Women’s Day on 6 March, this article in The Atlantic introduces books which describe how women reporters, often denied the same access to stories as men, turned the limitations they faced to their advantage.

Indeed, their exclusion from the male press establishment allowed them to produce fresh perspectives and more personal approaches to journalism.

Refer a friend

◉ Negotiate – pricing tools for photographers

Negotiating fees for professional work or image licensing can be a delicate business.

Clients want to hire you or licence one of your images. They have a budget. You have an expectation of what would be a reasonable fee. Often neither wants to reveal the full range of what they’re willing to pay/accept. We end up dancing around and guessing. It’s not ideal.

Here are two tools that can cut through the cat and mouse games.

BidWix

Built by my friend Stéphane, creator of the excellent MyNoise project, BidWix uses a clever geometric average to suggest a fee that fits neatly into both a client’s budget and a provider’s acceptable fee range.

BidWix is free to use and offers a quick, neat, no-nonsense way for both parties to negotiate a fee that works for both sides.

You can read more about how and why BidWix was built on Stéphane’s blog.

Beyond the Frame Image Calculator

I’ve used my own method of calculating image licence fees for many years. It’s a straightforward calculation based on the intended usage, licence period, and territories covered.

For example, when a client asked to use one of my images to promote a new TV show, the licence fee was based upon the following:

1. Period = One Year

2. Print Usage = Posters + Press advertising

3. Digital Usage = Social Media + Internet advertising

4. Territory = Europe + North America + Australasia

Each usage and territory has a corresponding fee multiplier. I set a base fee and add multiples based on the specific usage.

That sounds more complicated than it actually is.

I’ve used a simple spreadsheet in the past but now I’ve built an online Beyond the Frame Image Licensing Calculator.

The calculator is free to use. Simply set your base rate, click the relevant licence duration and usages, and the suggested licence fee will be calculated automatically.

I also use the Getty Images Rights Managed price calculator to double-check that my fees are within industry standards.

The Association of Photographers has an excellent guide to image licensing, including an important reminder that there’s never any need for photographers to give away their copyright!

If you’re negotiating fees or licensing images, these two tools can remove uncertainty and eliminate the sometimes uncomfortable negotiation process.

Subscribe now

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

And finally…

Whether or not it’s a winning metaphor for the sometimes unpredictable but always welcome arrival of love, joy, hope and friendship, I hope the rainbow umbrella brings a little sunshine into your life this week.

Until next time, go well.

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◼︎ Directory: Archive of Beyond the Frame newsletters.

◼︎ Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

Enter the Darkroom

For anyone who’s ever made prints at home, this is likely to be a familiar experience.

You go into the darkroom, close the door behind you and turn on the red “safe light”.

It’s 9 am.

You start to print negatives. You experiment with different paper grades, vary exposure times, sluice prints in a developing tray, then the stop bath, fixer, and finally the wash. Then you repeat, making adjustments, fine-tuning the process.

Forty-five minutes pass before you’re done.

You switch the red light off and step outside.

Inexplicably, it’s 6 pm.

Flow

This dramatic shift in our perception of time is a characteristic of a state of mind that psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls flow.

Flow happens when we are totally immersed in an activity. Our perception of time changes, self-consciousness evaporates, we’re in a place of complete mental absorption.

Flow happens when we are living in the moment, when we are in the zone.

“Apparently the way a long-distance swimmer felt when crossing the English Channel was almost identical to the way a chess player felt during a tournament or a climber progressing up a difficult rock face.”
– Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

If you’ve watched any of the Winter Olympics, currently taking place in Italy, you will have seen many examples of athletes competing in a state of flow – and at least one who wishes they were.

I’ve just seen highlights from the disturbingly named Skeleton event. Team GB gold medal winner Matt Weston describes it as “launching yourself headfirst down a frozen water slide at up to 130 kilometres per hour on a very expensive tea tray”.

Absolute focus, split-second decision-making, peak physical effort, all honed during years of rigorous training, culminating in 56 eye-watering seconds of sporting excellence. That’s being in a state of flow.

But flow is not an experience reserved only for elite athletes. Flow can be experienced by a child immersed in building a Lego castle, by anybody fully focused on learning a musical instrument, by a gardener carefully pruning roses, or by a photographer making prints in a darkroom.

“Olympians do not have an exclusive gift in finding enjoyment in pushing performance beyond existing boundaries. Every person, no matter how unfit he or she is, can rise a little higher, go a little faster, and grow to be a little stronger. The joy of surpassing the limits of the body is open to all.”
– Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

Photography and Flow

From his extensive research, Mihaly learned that a state of flow is most likely to occur when certain conditions are met:

1. The task must be challenging but not overwhelming. It should stretch our capacity enough to require commitment and concentration.

2. Goals should be clearly defined. We need to know specifically what we’re aiming for.

3. Feedback should, ideally, be immediate so we can gauge whether our efforts are succeeding.

4. The activity should be voluntary. Perhaps this is why flow is more often reported by people engaging in sports and hobbies than it is by those sitting at office desks?

If there have been times when I’ve experienced a state of flow, they’ve mostly arrived when I’ve had a camera in my hand.

It’s not guaranteed. Indeed, flow is elusive.

Sometimes it arrives quietly, perhaps in the darkroom or when patiently waiting for what Henri Cartier-Bresson described as “a simultaneous coalition” of elements – the right light, a certain moment, a glance, a movement, an interaction.

At other times it arrives amidst noise and disorder, when the rush of energy demands that our full attention be given to a dozen different things at once.

It’s hard to predict and most likely only recognised in retrospect, when we reflect and declare, “Wow! That was fun.”

Holi

When it comes to chaotic energy, there are few events more vibrant than India’s Festival of Colour – Holi.

The Radha Rani Temple in Uttar Pradesh is packed. Thousands of devotees are jammed inside, shoulder-to-shoulder. The music is loud, the singing is louder still, the dancing is frenzied, the air is thick with coloured powder, green, yellow, purple.

This is not a place for quiet reflection. It’s a full-on, non-stop sensory overload.

I’m experimenting with shutter speeds. Too fast and movement is frozen, the sense of constant motion lost.

1/30th of a second?

1/15th?

At one and two full seconds, individuals merge into a blurred mass of humanity – which is how it appeared – no longer individuals but one multi-coloured, rhythmic, writhing entity.

I venture downstairs to the temple floor and become a part of the swirling crowd, swept this way and that without warning.

There’s too much coloured powder in the air for my camera to auto-focus and barely enough space to raise my arms, let alone check the camera settings. There’s no time, no space, no pause, only this moment.

This is the point at which instinct and muscle memory kick in.

A longer lens allows me to frame tightly. I’m hoping my manual focusing is picking out hands raised above the crowd.

A wider angle is more forgiving and gives me some hope of framing flamboyant dance moves, even though I’m within easy reach of swinging arms.

There’s a jostling intimacy; no hierarchy, everyone is a part of the same exuberant celebration. Despite the noise and the movement and the air thick with powder, it’s wonderfully good-natured and uplifting. I’m swept up in the euphoria.

At times the frenzy calms a little. Large groups of musicians, doused in yellow and orange, enter the hall and sit to play.

I take the opportunity to sit with them, finding faces to bring some sense of the individuals who are a part of the crowd.

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The frenzied flow

In retrospect, there’s no alternative to being in the moment in a situation like this.

There’s no time to think and little space to move. But I don’t think “hitting and hoping” would be a successful strategy. It’s necessary to be aware of several things at once: the ebb and flow of the crowd, one’s position within it, camera settings, framing (as far as possible).

There’s also the safety aspect. Large crowds can be unpredictable. Am I in the way? Am I interfering too much in the proceedings? Is my presence appropriate?

Fortunately, in this joyful celebration, everybody is welcome if they bring a smile and some intriguing dance moves. All my dance moves are intriguing and I couldn’t help but smile so I was fine.

Refer a friend

Feel the flow

Holi lasts several days and I’ve documented many of the peripheral activities. I spent about two hours in the main hall of the Radha Rani temple when celebrations are at their most intense. It felt more like six. When so much is happening so rapidly, time expands.

Mihaly describes one of the components of flow as “a deep but effortless involvement that removes from awareness the worries and frustrations of everyday life.”

It’s fair to say that during Holi, the worries and frustrations of everyday life were the last thing on my mind.

Does flow make better photographs?

Most photographs are made outside a state of flow, in my experience.

It’s rare to be so fully engaged that we are completely in the moment. The necessary conditions do not readily coalesce and they can be hard to manufacture.

I don’t think work made from a flow state is necessarily better. Perhaps the value of flow in photography isn’t in the finished photograph but in the act of making it. It’s found when we abandon our need to measure the passing of time, in those moments when we forget ourselves and direct our attention outward.

Our modern, social-media world has been engineered to fracture our attention into fleeting seconds. Opportunities to be fully immersed in a task are increasingly rare. That may be reason enough to seek them out.

Want more flow in your life?

In his book, Flow, Mihaly describes ways in which we can increase our capacity for flow.

If you’re interested in learning more, I can recommend the book. It’s thoughtful and insightful, explains findings from his research in layman’s terms.

If you’d like a guaranteed place to find a flow state but the thought of training for an Olympic Skeleton run doesn’t appeal, then I’ll meet you at the Radha Rani temple.

Subscribe now

Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

❖ Pitch – Visa pour l’Image

Professional photographers are invited to submit reportage projects to be screened or exhibited at the 2026 edition of Visa pour l’Image in Perpignan, France.

▶︎ Watch – Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s TED talk

☆ Read – Flow by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi

The psychologist reveals what he’s learned about the “psychology of optimal experience.”

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

And finally…

I’m moving this week. Leaving bustling Bangkok for gentle Geneva. Swapping sunshine for snow.

Wherever you are and whatever the weather, I hope you find some moments of undistracted attention.

Until next time, flow well.

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◼︎ Directory: Archive of Beyond the Frame newsletters.

◼︎ Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

Last week, I laid out the cameras, lenses and bags I carry. This week, I’m thinking about the things we can’t see.

Having the right gear matters. And there are few photographers who won’t talk enthusiastically – and at length – about lenses and camera bags.

But the less tangible things we’re carrying might shape our photographs far more than any piece of hardware ever could.

Here are six things we all carry, each of which is worth recognising and weighing.

Identity

We all carry a sense of who we are, and often a sense of who other people tell us we are. Professionally, we might describe ourselves as a street photographer or a photojournalist, and then conform to the definition we’ve created, and that editors and clients have come to expect.

Having received praise – and occasionally payment – for a certain look or approach, we might be tempted to keep repeating it, seeking more endorsements, wary of stepping off a proven path.

Consistency in our work is a plus. But it can come at the expense of curiosity and experimentation.

It’s worth asking how we’re defining our identity in our work, and whether we’re brave enough, occasionally, to step beyond it. The question is: “I know who I am supposed to be. Who else might I become?”

Expectations

When we set out to make images, we might have a particular scene or event in mind. It’s natural to visualise in advance. We instinctively set expectations about the weather, the quality of the light, how busy it will be… We’re making photos in our mind’s eye long before we arrive.

Expectations can give direction and purpose. We build a mental framework. But they can also narrow our vision, prevent us from responding to the unexpected, because we’re trying to force our expectations onto events which might look very different from what we’d envisaged.

Visualising in advance helps our planning. But nothing stifles creativity faster than inflexible expectations.

As Anaïs Nin suggested (above), our preconceptions can radically alter the way we perceive the world. A willingness to accept and adapt when our expectations don’t align with the real world makes life smoother – and our creative energies more productive.

Assumptions

Where our expectations attempt to predict the future, our assumptions define what we believe already is.

We apply labels to people and places as a way of managing complexity.

“This street is uninteresting.”

“That person won’t speak with me.”

“There won’t be enough light after sunset.”

If we’re not careful, we can end up photographing our preconceptions instead of what’s actually in front of us.

“That person is shy.”

“This story is tragic.”

The difficulty is that assumptions rarely announce themselves. They feel like facts.

Sometimes the antidote to assumptions is simple: we stay a little longer, ask more questions, invite other opinions, find images where we thought there were none.

We try, as Proust suggests, to see with new eyes.

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Confidence

If you think imposter syndrome is an emotional obstacle that only a few people experience, take heart from the words of two of the most successful people in their field.

“Something that is real to all of us: the sharp terror of a loss of confidence in ourselves. No matter who we are, no matter what we’ve done, there comes a point where you think how did I get here? And how am I going to be able to continue this? When are they going to discover that I am, in fact, a fraud and take everything away from me?”
– Tom Hanks

“I have written eleven books, but each time I think, ‘Uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody and they’re going to find me out.’”
– Maya Angelou

Of all the intangible things we might be carrying, self-doubt can be the most weighty.

In my experience, there’s no simple remedy. The best I can offer is this:

If Tom Hanks and Maya Angelou feel it too, you’re in fine company. Do what they do:

Turn up.

Do the work.

When you’ve finished, the imposter syndrome might still be present. But so too will the work. And that is enough.

Emotions

We also carry, wherever we go, our mood.

Tired after a long journey? Irritated by traffic? Rushing because the light is failing? Fumbling with accessories because nothing seems to work properly? Upset because it’s raining or delighted because the sun has come out?

The world is the world. But how we meet it differs from day to day, hour to hour, influenced by our prevailing emotions.

I know that the photographs we make – definitely the photographs I make – reveal not only what was in front of us but also what was inside us.

If there were a potion capable of managing all emotional states, I’m sure we would all buy a bottle. Apparently, there isn’t. What I can offer is a simple reminder that we should take a moment to check our mood as well as our shutter speeds.

We are, after all, the piece of picture-making mechanics with the greatest influence on the results.

Moral Responsibility

A camera gives us the power to frame stories, to include or exclude, to emphasise or diminish. That power is not neutral. It comes with a degree of responsibility.

It’s not difficult to misrepresent a scene. Thoughtful (or thoughtless) framing, wide-angle or telephoto lenses to alter spatial relationships, timing to make elements appear to coincide… the tools are readily available.

Photography is inescapably subjective and good intentions alone are not always enough. Authentic storytelling requires awareness of context, of consent, and of where power lies.

In particular, the way we represent people should, in my opinion, come from a place of respect and empathy. It is a tremendous privilege to photograph another person.

It’s a privilege I have enjoyed countless times and it always leaves me feeling humbled. We ask a lot when we point a camera at a person, especially strangers. There has to be an exchange, a balancing. Even if it’s only a smile and a nod of appreciation, without some acknowledgment of what’s been given, we will only ever be taking and remain forever in deficit.

“When I approach people, I do it with respect, with deference; I do it slowly and gently and I think about the way I move, the way I speak and the way I use the camera. I let them know that I respect them and what they’re going through.”
– James Nachtwey

“If you take a picture of a human that does not make him noble, there is no reason to take this picture. That is my way of seeing things.”
– Sebastião Salgado

Every photograph makes a claim about how the world looks. Our responsibility is to ensure our claims are made with care and compassion.

What we carry

We spend a lot of time thinking about what gear we carry. We analyse the weight, measure the sharpness of our lenses, test the reliability of the mechanics… But I think the unseen things weigh more. They’re always present. They shape how we see, influence how we engage, and affect the outcome of our photography more than any physical gear.

It’s true that the camera is in our hands. We control the mechanics. But images are taking shape long before the shutter is released – in the mind and in the character of the person holding it.

Refer a friend

Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

☆ Read – Emotions and creativity

A review in Psychology Today of the recently published Cambridge Handbook of Creativity and Emotions. I haven’t read the book but I did find the article posed some thought-provoking questions.

◉ Listen – Tom Hanks interview

The Tom Hanks quote (above) comes from a 2016 NPR interview. He’s always an excellent interviewee; thoughtful, authentic, straightforward.

❖ See – The Photography & Video Show, UK

Should you be in need of a gear fix, the Photography and Video Show takes place at the NEC in Birmingham, UK next month. Standard tickets are £18.95, professionals free.

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

Subscribe now

And finally…

I’ll be honest, I found it much easier to write about gear! There’s no resistance to describing lenses and camera bags. Writing about intangible elements has not been so straightforward. They’re so… intangible.

However, just between us, I’ve found it more rewarding to consider the other, invisible things that we all carry.

One of the best things about writing a newsletter happens when I learn something in the process. That happens more often than not. Trying to shape abstract concepts that you kind of know but have never formulated is a useful exercise. I hope it’s rung some bells.

Until next time, go well.

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◼︎ Directory: Archive of Beyond the Frame newsletters.

◼︎ Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

My friends at Shotkit reminded me that it’s been five years since I updated my gear list, hence this review. The photo above shows my current, “essential” gear.

I have similar images showing my gear in 2009 and 2014. Some things have changed but the core components have remained pretty consistent.

You’ll notice that I’ve reduced the amount of gear I’m using. It’s the result of careful pruning, eliminating anything that can’t genuinely be classified as a must-have.

Accessories have changed, gear has been replaced, but the foundations have stayed the same:

• Two main camera bodies

• 15mm to 200mm focal length range – with various lenses

• Wide apertures – ƒ1.2 or ƒ/2.8

I’m reminded that I was still using a dedicated GPS tracker for geotagging images in 2009. These days GPS data is recorded directly in many cameras.

The mobile phone has become invaluable for recording information, voice notes, creating reminders, navigation – and now it’s essential for storing tickets and boarding passes.

However, left to its own devices, the phone can also be a massive pain in the arse. I turn all but the most critical notifications off, otherwise it behaves like a mewling infant, demanding constant attention. I do not have any social media apps installed, valuing what’s left of my brain.

It’s been a 30-year process of fine-tuning, continuing to work with trusted equipment that’s proved to be reliable, eliminating gear that proves to be superfluous or – the worst sin – has failed at a critical moment.

The 2026 Essential List

• Canon R3 mirrorless + 3 lenses

• Leica M rangefinder + 3 lenses

• Leica D-Lux 8 compact

• Accessories

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Full disclosure

I’m not sponsored by any camera, accessory or bag manufacturers. This is a review of gear that I use because it works for me. I’ve included affiliate links to relevant B&H Photo product pages below.

All of this equipment has been used over an extended period. I was going to say “used and abused” but, actually, I take very good care of my camera gear (and get better resale value as a result!)

Speaking of trading camera gear, I’m pleased to announce that MPB have joined Beyond the Frame as a sponsorship partner. I’ll explain how MPB works in a future edition but if you’re buying or selling camera gear, or even if you just want to check the resale value of your cameras and lenses, I’d recommend seeing what MPB has to offer.

Canon EOS R3 Mirrorless Kit

Why I trust it

The Canon EOS R3 is my workhorse camera. I’ve used EOS cameras for 30+ years. They are rugged and reliable. I don’t remember an occasion when one has let me down.

I use the traditional trio of 15–35mm, 24–70mm, and 70–200mm lenses. All ƒ/2.8 through the range. I also have a 28mm ‘pancake’ lens as a very lightweight option.

At this end of the EOS range, Canon cameras are chunky, vertical grips are part of the body, buttons and dials are duplicated, so they fall in the same position beneath fingers whether the camera is held horizontally or vertically.

It’s professional kit for professional jobs and this is what I take on commercial assignments.

What I would improve

The R3 reintroduced Canon’s eye-controlled focus, a system I really liked in the old film EOS 5. But, much as I persist with it and assume that when it fails it’s probably my fault, it’s fiddly as all buggery – as granny would have said. The focus point follows your eye when you look through the viewfinder. That’s great in principle but when it flicks from one side of the frame to the other unexpectedly… let’s just say that’s sub-optimal. So, regrettably, I’ve turned it off. I don’t know if that’s a manufacturing or software glitch or just that it doesn’t suit my eyes – it’s probably the latter. If it worked consistently, I’d be delighted.

Another modern problem: after so many technical advances, the menu options on many cameras have become bewildering. To be fair, Canon menus are better organised than some I’ve used, which can be a dog’s dinner (Hello Sony, I’m looking at you), but there are just so many menus to scroll through that remembering where one particular setting can be found is a challenge.

I don’t know what can be done about that. Ideally, I’d like to remove 70% of the functions, which I’ll never use – but, inexplicably, Canon don’t make their cameras for me alone and they have to work for every potential use.

Nevertheless, Canon EOS cameras have been my first choice for commercial work for decades and I don’t expect that to change.

Leica M Rangefinder Kit

Why I trust it

I know Leica gear is expensive and you’ll often find people comparing Leica cameras and lenses to cheaper models and asking whether the expense can be justified. For me, a Leica rangefinder does something few other cameras do: it gets out of the way.

Yes, Leica cameras are precision tools and the image quality from Leica lenses is second to none. You’d be right to expect exceptional quality for the cost of Leica gear.

But more importantly for me, a Leica rangefinder maintains the essential controls of photography with no complications. You won’t find a host of confusing buttons, dials and joysticks on a Leica.

I’m currently using a Leica M11, with these lenses:

• 28mm Summilux

• 50mm Summicron

• 90mm Summicron

• Plus, occasionally, a Visoflex 2 viewfinder.

I typically use Aperture Priority mode and this is the process:

1. Set the aperture. Twisting the aperture ring on the lens is a tactile, physical movement that moves the aperture blades. It feels more like direct control than turning a digital dial.

2. Frame the image. I sometimes use the Visoflex viewfinder attachment but prefer the traditional, optical, bright-line rangefinder.

3. Focus. Again, a manual twist of a focussing ring on the lens. Direct and immediate. No autofocus hunting for contrast.

4. Click the shutter release.

That’s it. The camera doesn’t demand my attention. I can concentrate fully on the subject, wait, anticipate and be more directly engaged with the scene.

What I would improve

The Leica M is not a high-speed sports camera or a long-range, predictive-focussing wildlife camera. It’s a camera built for the street, for reportage, for photojournalism. It’s unobtrusive, quiet and efficient – much like myself.

A Leica does what it’s best at without fuss and so there’s little to improve. It’s a truism that you get what you pay for so whilst the investment is not modest, I’ve never regretted buying Leica gear.

Leica D-Lux 8 Compact Camera

Why I trust it

The compact Leica D-Lux 8 is the camera I carry everywhere. It’s replaced my phone for quick photos because it’s genuinely pocket-sized, has an impressive optical zoom range, and the image quality is excellent for a camera with a Micro Four-Thirds sensor. I can use it in full manual mode, which I prefer. Full control, great image quality, a versatile zoom range, wide maximum apertures – and the tiny flash that accompanies the camera is too cute for words.

What I would improve

If the D-Lux 8 had a flip-out LCD screen, the camera would be perfect in many ways. It’s the one thing about the camera that I most hope to see added to future models.

Supplementary Gear

Audio

• Zoom H1 2-Track 32-Bit Float Portable Audio Recorder For interviews and ambient audio recordings

• Wired headphones For monitoring sound levels

• AirPods Pro + AirPods Max (not pictured)

Accessories

• Air-Blower – to remove dust from lenses

• Calibrite ColorChecker Passport Photo 2 for accurate colour reproduction and white balance.

• Swiss Army knife – I’ve always carried one but now, as a Swiss resident, it would be rude not to.

• Spare batteries and chargers

• iPhone and MagSafe battery pack

• Passports and Press ID

Bags

The perfect camera bag is the Holy Grail for photographers. Ideally, it should be the perfect size to accommodate your gear, bring specific lenses and accessories to the top of the bag as you need them (some magic required), be entirely weightless and virtually invisible.

I’m still searching.

Until I discover the Nirvana Camera Bag, I’ll continue to use the bags that come closest.

Think Tank Airport Navigator

• Think Tank Airport Navigator – I’ve had this carry-on airline bag for many years. It has an uncanny ability to accommodate more gear than looks possible from the outside. It’s a TARDIS.

• The best feature: A top opening that allows me to pull a camera directly from the bag, lens attached, and start work without needing to unpack

PhotoCross 13

• PhotoCross 13 sling bag – A relatively recent addition, I’m a big fan of this bag. It’s large enough to accommodate my Canon gear but spreads weight across the back so I’ve never found it to be uncomfortable.

• It’s weatherproof – a big plus.

• It has luggage/tripod straps and a pocket for a water bottle. Why more camera bags don’t have space for a water bottle is a mystery to me.

• It’s possible to swing the bag around in front and it’s cleverly designed to open away from the body, providing easy access to gear and a secure platform for changing lenses.

Tumi Rucksack

• Whilst it’s not marketed as a camera bag, I’ve had this Tumi rucksack (backpack) for about eight years and it’s the bee’s knees.

• It has a large laptop pocket, just enough space for pretty much all my camera gear – at a push, plenty of extra pockets, including a nifty drop pocket behind the handle, perfect for a phone and passports.

• This particular bag appears to be made from some other-worldly material that barely shows any signs of wear. After eight years, most bags would be looking pretty shabby. Not so the Tumi.

• Tumi bags are wickedly expensive and I would never have bought one ordinarily. However, Mrs. G. once found Tumi bags at some crazily discounted price and bought this one because, she said, “the green matches your eyes.” I continue to be, in all things, blessed.

A final thought about gear

Ultimately, the value of any photographic equipment doesn’t depend on specifications, brand recognition or hefty price tags, but on how quietly and dependably it helps us make the photographs we want.

The tools I’ve learned to trust are those that don’t demand attention. The best camera gear fades into the background, allowing us to concentrate fully on timing, perspective, composition and light.

Having the right gear matters – of course it does – but only insofar as it allows us to stay present and engaged without interruption.

Our attention is always going to be our most precious resource. Good camera gear leaves our attention where it serves us best – our photography.

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Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

☆ Read – Shotkit

There are more than 1,300 other photographers on the Shotkit website, each sharing photos and descriptions of their gear. The Photojournalism and Travel categories are especially interesting.

⦿ Learn – Three camera-buying tips

Here’s a reliable, three-point, gear-buying mantra:

1. Invest in experiences first. Spending money on a trip to a new destination can be more productive than buying more gear. New experiences trigger ideas and build motivation. If existing gear works well enough, use precious resources to go places instead of buying more kit.

2. Reliability beats brilliance. The best camera gear works reliably every time. Better to have an uncomplicated camera that does exactly what you need, when you need it, than the latest all-singing, all-dancing model with so many options that it’s just confusing.

3. Fewer options = clearer decisions. I would rather work with one lens than with 20. When we’re not faced with so many choices, we can concentrate on what’s important: the subject and the light.

PS – To spare his blushes, I should point out that my friend Frank does not actually carry this many cameras. During a photo workshop in Bhutan, we loaded Frank up with all the students’ cameras so he could make a group photo – and also because it amused us greatly. Simple things…

▶︎ Watch – Photographer retrieves stolen camera gear

Benj Haisch’s camera gear was stolen but he was able to locate it by tracking an AirTag. His encounter with the thieves turned out well, thankfully.

It’s a reminder that attaching a trackable device to camera gear is simple but potentially effective.

1. I’d recommend contacting the police if you ever find yourself in a similar situation. Benj’s encounter turned out OK but it could have been very different.

2. I attach these AirTag holders directly to my camera straps, so the camera is trackable, not just the camera bag.

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

Subscribe now

And finally…

Now it’s time to put all that trusted camera gear to good use. Thai elections are coming up at the weekend. Chinese New Year will follow soon after.

I can’t remember which photographer said, when asked, “What’s your favourite photo?”

“The next one!”

Whoever said it before, I’m also saying it again now.

I hope you are looking forward to your next photo.

Until next time, go well.

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◼︎ Directory: Archive of Beyond the Frame newsletters.

◼︎ Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

I’ve taught photography to hundreds of adults, in classes and workshops. But when it comes to teaching photography to children, I’m often the one who ends up learning the most.

Seedlight

The Seedlight project came about, as all the best things do, from a moment of serendipity – and from meeting one child in particular, Hayat, who I will introduce later on.

In 2010 and 2011, my time was divided between assignments for NGOs and teaching adult photography workshops. Many of my NGO clients work on projects benefitting children from disadvantaged backgrounds. I often share photos with the kids, either by scrolling through frames on the camera’s LCD screen or by making instant photos to hand out. The kids also enjoy using my cameras to make their own photos of their friends and classmates.

I recognise how much enjoyment children get from playing with cameras, and how proud they are to share their pictures with friends. What if I brought photography workshops into the NGO projects I was documenting?

And so the Seedlight project was born.

With contributions from generous family and friends, I buy 24 point-and-shoot digital cameras and tag a week or two onto the end of an assignment. Working with the NGOs, we distribute cameras to the children and set up easy-to-follow photography lessons.

I’ve taken the project to Cambodia, Nepal, Bangladesh, Thailand, Kenya and Ethiopia.

It’s a simple premise. We help the kids learn basic photography skills. The cameras are donated for them to keep. They use them at school and take them home, documenting whatever appeals to them.

We print the photos and the children select their favourites, which they compile into an exhibition in their school or orphanage, for friends and family to admire.

We try to keep the process as straightforward as possible and place very few restrictions on the children. It’s an opportunity for them to explore and express themselves through a creative endeavour.

The NGOs I work with are often small and work with very modest funding. Staff work hard to provide food, clothing and essential medicines. Artistic pursuits are a luxury that the children are rarely afforded and photography is, understandably, not a priority. But I know that a camera can be a liberating tool, bringing confidence where it is sometimes hard won.

Addis Ababa

I’m sharing short descriptions and photos from four of the children, residents at an orphanage in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. I hope they will give a sense of what the children get out of the experience. And I hope you will enjoy seeing the kids’ photos as much as I know they enjoyed making them.

Yohannes

“He speaks through his eyes”, was what one of his friends told me when I first met Yohannes. What better trait for an artist?

Yohannes is one of life’s natural observers. He’s friendly but rarely the centre of attention, often found caring for the pigeons that roost in an abandoned cupboard at the far end of the orphanage playground.

Putting a camera into Yohannes’ hands produced a perfect illustration of the project’s aims. Providing him with a new way of interacting with the world allowed him to express himself creatively, without the tiresome demands of having to speak.

The camera allowed the rest of us to see the world through Yohannes’ eyes. A world of quiet, unhurried observation. An uninteresting shelf of threadbare shoes becomes a study of bold lines and earthy textures. We watch a boy playing with a ball, Yohannes sees the shadow on the wall.

During our first lesson, Yohannes picked up my cumbersome camera with his right hand, called a white pigeon to perch on his outstretched left, instinctively shifted to frame the bird against a blue wall, put his eye to the camera, framed, and clicked. The resulting image remains one of my favourites. The memory of that moment, likewise.

Yohannes taught me far more than I could ever teach him. He reminded me of the power of patience, that observation and anticipation are the keys to unlocking memorable moments. When I grow up, I want to be like Yohannes.

Hayat

The Seedlight project was inspired by my first meeting with Hayat. She is the reason these images exist.

You would not guess that Hayat has suffered more physical and emotional distress than anybody should endure in one lifetime, let alone before their 8th birthday. She has a ready laugh, loves the company of her friends, and is rightly proud of her photographs.

When we reviewed her images on a laptop, she picked her favourites. She loves this photo, taken through the window of a moving bus. Three shiny, pink ballgowns in a shop window.

Hayat instinctively understands chiaroscuro lighting – the use of strong contrast to create depth and volume. Without instruction, she finds it when photographing the orphanage staff.

Another of Hayat’s favourite images is, at first glance, an unremarkable photo of a dog-eared instant photo that I gave her at our first meeting. Touchingly, Hayat kept her instant print under her pillow.

I asked why she chose this photo as one of her favourites.

“It’s the first time I saw a photo of myself,” she replied. “And the first time I saw you and you saw me.”

Hayat taught me that giving cameras to kids is fine in itself, but the real value comes from the connections made from giving one’s attention fully to another person.

When I look again at Hayat looking out from the faded, folded instant photo, I see a young woman who wants nothing more in the world than to be truly seen.

And perhaps, one day, a reason to wear a shiny, pink ballgown.

Rahel

Like all the best documentary photographers, Rahel might not be the most obvious person in a crowd. But she will have seen you. She will probably have photographed you too. Quietly and respectfully, Rahel makes photos in a considered way, patiently waiting for the right moment to capture the subjects which interest her most.

Rahel loves to photograph her friends. Her deal is that she’ll paint your nails if you pose for a portrait. What people may not realise is that Rahel loves painting nails just as much as she loves photography. For Rahel, it’s a win-win.

Rahel reminded me of the importance of subjectivity, and how the images we see affect each of us differently. When picking her favourite photos, Rahel selected a blurry, out-of-focus picture of another girl. I gently asked whether she might not prefer to choose a sharper photo of a different subject. The question seemed to puzzle her. She looked me in the eye and said, “But this is my best friend!”

Sharp focus and accurate exposures are admirable, but we ought not to forget Rahel’s lesson: Content is King – or Queen.

Kesahun

What he lacks in age and physical size, Kesahun more than makes up for with eager, wide-eyed determination. Kesahun is a force of nature.

When it was suggested that a five year-old would make a good photography student, I had some doubts. That was before I met him. We always know when Kesahun has arrived. He won’t be ignored, even if he has to climb on your head, pull your ears and poke you in the eyes to get your attention. If Kesahun wants you to look at him, he doesn’t wait, he simply twists your head in his direction. Kesahun has important things to share and he wants to say them without delay.

We regularly print the children’s photos and spread them on a desk. All the other children sit on chairs or stand beside the table, organising their pictures in order of preference. Not Kesahun. He climbs onto the table, sits cross-legged and spreads the prints around him. He doesn’t so much carry out an edit as he becomes a part of it.

Our first and pretty much only photography lesson lasted no more than 30 seconds. I demonstrated turning the camera on, looking into the viewfinder and pressing the shutter button. Kesahun nodded, walked off with his camera to the front gate of the orphanage, made a photo of the security guard, sauntered back, showed me the photo as evidence that he was all sorted, thank you, and promptly ran off to begin his photographic adventures.

By the end of the first week, the camera case permanently attached to his belt looks like it has been through several wars. Yet the camera inside is spotlessly clean. Several times each day he carefully cleans the screen and tiny lens with a tissue. When he sees me cleaning my camera with a favourite cotton cloth that I’d bought in India, he held out his hand. It wasn’t a childish demand from a five year-old. He was simply letting me know that he needed that cloth more than I did. And he was right.

Kesahun leaves nothing to chance. He photographs everything. Yet for all the joyful energy and enthusiasm, there are more thoughtful photos too. A flowing wave of red ribbon on blue fabric. A wide framing of a friend in pink Crocs and blue dungarees. I doubt Kesahun will ever sit still long enough for me to teach him about the theory of negative space. But, evidently, it’s not a lesson he needs to hear.

Occasionally, if I’m ever hesitant about how to approach a subject, I’ll think of Kesahun and be inspired by his bold, no-nonsense approach. If, like Kesahun, we have something important to share, why wait?

Lessons learned

When I began the Seedlight project, I hoped it would offer some creative opportunities to the children and a little respite for the hard-working NGO staff.

It’s true that cameras offer a means of expression, allowing children to share the things that are important to them. Cameras can give a sense of self-worth, a way to be the director of their own narrative, something that many of these kids have rarely enjoyed.

A camera is a tool of empowerment. Giving a camera to a child permits them to believe, “I am worthy of this”.

I’ve always found the experience of teaching photography to children enormously rewarding. I’ve watched them grow in confidence with a camera in their hands. A camera gives a reason to be where they want to be, to engage with what they find most fascinating. That’s pretty much why I carry a camera, so I can relate to that feeling.

And I have learned so much more than I’ve taught. I’ve been reminded of the simple joy of making photographs, that technical considerations can be a distraction, that our connection to a subject is always the most crucial thing.

To photograph with a sense of childlike enthusiasm and wonder is, I believe, an aspiration worth holding on to.

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Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

☆ Read – Goats and Soda

Stephanie Sinclair is the founder of the NGO Too Young to Wed, advocating for and raising awareness of the plight of child brides.

Providing cameras to ten girls rescued from child marriage for one week proved to be a profound experience.

“Today, they gave us small things called cameras. Everybody carries them. For the rest of my life, I will not forget this day.”
– Modestar

The NPR article describes how cameras provided the girls with a means of creative exploration and artistic expression which worked as art therapy.

▶︎ Watch – Camera Kids

I’ve seen trailers for this documentary about a project that provided cameras and tuition to 19 Rwandan children, orphaned by the 1994 genocide.

David Jiranek, founded Through the Eyes of Children, which has recently celebrated its 25th anniversary.

I’ve also found a PBS interview with the filmmaker, Beth Murphy, and a Time article about the project.

I’m waiting to hear back from the producers with more details of where to find the film, but even the trailer offers a powerful glimpse into how photography helped orphaned survivors.

◉ Listen – Interview with Wendy Ewald

A really interesting conversation with Wendy Ewald, a pioneer who created several collaborative projects working with children. Wendy’s most well-known project is Portraits and Dreams, photographs and Stories by children of the Appalachians.

⦿ Learn

Finally, as we’re talking about photography and children, a reminder that the Child Protection Policy provided by Ethical Storytelling incorporates UNICEF’s Principles for Ethical Reporting on Children. The policy is available to download for free and recommended reading for anybody involved in photographing children, especially those who are living amidst crisis.

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✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

And finally…

What do you think of the children’s pictures? I know my appreciation is coloured by time spent in the kids’ company, which is always a privilege.

Do the images reveal something about the lives of the children who made them? I’m interested to know what you think and would appreciate your comments.

I hope that whatever you’re doing this week, you’ll find time to escape the doom and gloom news cycle. It’s important to be well-informed, of course, but we also need time to focus on what’s good in the world.

Until next time, go well.

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Directory: Beyond the Frame newsletter archive.

Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

Riding the rattling rails of the Bamboo Train on a rickety, home-made ‘norry’ train requires steady balance and supreme confidence.

I’m sure we would all like to surf through our lives displaying the same level of poise as Thean, my Cambodian guide. But well-balanced confidence can sometimes be elusive, in photography as much as in any other aspect of life.

Photographer Zed Nelson puts it in a way that I recognise.

“Taking photographs can be an uncomfortable process for any photographer. It takes lots of practice. The more you do it, the easier it gets, but it never stops being difficult. You have to psyche yourself up and get yourself in the right frame of mind. Tell yourself, ‘Today I work. Today I am a photographer.’”
– Zed Nelson

I believe that the ability to put yourself in a positive mental space is as much a part of the job as understanding apertures and shutter speeds.

However, as I was reminded this week, creating that positive mental space is not always a straightforward process and nagging self-doubt can creep in if we’re not vigilant.

A crisis of confidence

Presented with an offer to contribute to a new project, I found myself in two minds. The invitation was appealing and I was pleased to receive it. But after considering it for a couple of days, I realised I’d been talking myself out of accepting.

“I don’t have exactly the right gear for this job.”

“I don’t really have the necessary experience.”

“I’m not sure I can deliver exactly what’s expected.”

I don’t know what caused my confidence to drop. I actually do have the right gear, and the relevant experience. And my experience tells me that a straightforward conversation would help define exactly what’s expected, dissolving any uncertainty.

It’s just a fact of life that our confidence can ebb and flow. On some days we might feel invincible, but mostly we’re dealing with varying levels of self-doubt, doing our best not to talk ourselves out of opportunities.

Fear of failure is a powerful emotion. It can sink opportunities before we’ve fully explored them. I expect most of us have fallen victim to that self-sabotaging inner voice from time to time. It’s an over-enthusiastic form of self-protection that doesn’t know when to stay quiet.

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Nobody is immune from self-doubt

Ami Vitale, five-time World Press Photo winner, is a widely-admired and successful photographer. Yet she readily admits that her confidence can waver and has described herself as “The Queen of self-doubt”.

“My way to combat these anxieties is to confront them head on. I push myself to cover topics that are so different from what I did in the past. I embrace new technologies even though I’m not a great lover of the technical. Embracing what is new and scares me the most liberates me. I know there will be some failures, but you end up figuring out how to adapt and learn.”
– Ami Vitale

A never-ending battle?

Perhaps confidence is not the absence of fear – but rather a nodding acknowledgement that our insecurities can be defeated with thoughtful preparation? Like an actor prone to stage-fright, if we research our subject, understand our motivations and rehearse our lines, are we more likely to perform well?

Does this resonate with you? How and when does self-confidence show up for you? I’d love to know – and expect other readers would appreciate it too. If you’re inclined, add a sentence or two in the comments.

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What does confidence look like?

Swayed by my curiosity, I’ve installed an AI plug-in into my photo archive. It analyses the images and will, supposedly, offer appropriate captions and keywords.

It took just a few hours to map many hundreds of thousands of image files. The results are impressive/worrying, depending on your perspective.

When asked to search my archive for images illustrating “confidence”, the AI successfully returned many portraits where people have adopted confident poses, sometimes intentionally, often not.

(If you’d like to see more photos of Raj – and why wouldn’t you – he also appears in Beyond the Frame 65/.)

Getty Stock Photos

The images found by the AI search of my archive are not dissimilar to the first page of stock photos returned when searching for “confidence” on the Getty Images website.

Interestingly, 90% of the images returned in my AI search – and also in the Getty search – are of women. Why would that be? Do women naturally appear more confident than men in photos? I can’t think of a good reason why there would be such a significant disparity. But I’m pleased that the result wasn’t reversed. We have enough confident men already, thank you.

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What I can say with confidence…

…is that self-belief isn’t something we either possess or we don’t. It fluctuates, comes and goes at unpredictable times. I know it can be built with careful preparation but it’s always a work-in-progress. Perhaps the best approach is to stay curious about what fuels confidence and what erodes it – and be generous with ourselves when it begins to falter.

Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

☆ Read – A Confident Mind by Nate Zinsser

Dr. Zinsser is the ‘confidence-whisperer’ who teaches high-ranking military personnel to build self-belief. Learn more about his approach in a no-nonsense interview in The Observer.

❖ See – Portrait of Britain 2025 Winners

The Portrait of Britain photography contest rarely disappoints. Announced this week, the winners provide “an opportunity to rejoice in the diversity of a changing nation.”

◉ Listen – Glass Beams

I am unable to resist the temptation to share this Glass Beams live performance (contrary to my editor’s strong advice against doing so). I was listening to the Glass Beams Mahal EP as I wrote this edition, hence the toe-tapping, funky-fusion vibe you’re feeling 😬 Don’t ask me to explain it. I can’t. But I like it.

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

And finally…

My friends at Shotkit have reminded me that it’s time to update my feature. It’s been more than ten years since I last listed my gear. As you’ll see if you compare my current setup (below) with the gear I was carrying in 2015, I have managed to reduce it a little.

It’s going to be 34ºC in Bangkok today – and looks set to remain that way for the rest of the month. I had been hoping for some cooler days in the run-up to the Thai general election on the 8th of February but it seems destined to be hot and steamy - the weather and election both!

Wherever you are and whatever you have planned this week, stay cool – and confident.

Until next time, go well.

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Directory: Beyond the Frame newsletter archive.

Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

Can photography go beyond the role of spectator?

When the stakes are high, can photographs empower movements and influence political will?

In times of crisis, how can photographers negotiate responsibility, integrity and veracity?

I like the idea of a new year. Wiping the slate clean, drawing a line under the previous year, calculating the sum of the good minus the bad and reckoning the balance. Then starting afresh, back to zero. All things are possible and there are sunlit uplands ahead. So long 2025. Welcome 2026!

I understand it’s just an arbitrary date in the calendar but even so, the concept of a new year is always appealing to me. Even the date “1/1” suggests being back at the start of something, ready to build bigger and better.

This year, that feeling lasted for about… I don’t know… maybe two days. That’s how long it took for the news feeds to overwhelm my enthusiasm for a brighter year ahead.

There’s a division between the personal and the societal, of course. Personally, I’m still full of beans and hopeful anticipation. The year ahead is full of lively opportunities. But when it comes to the wider world, optimism might not feel like the most instinctive response.

Conflicts continue, wars are waged, intolerance and bigotry are the new black. No matter which side of any political divide one falls, only an unrelenting Pollyanna could claim, “Don’t panic. Everything is perfectly fine.”

We’re in the middle of a climate crisis. There’s a migrant crisis. And a cost-of-living crisis. A humanitarian crisis. A crisis of trust in the media and institutions. And it isn’t all political hyperbole. The evidence is clear. As we enter 2026, this is our world: a world in crisis.

What can we do?

As photographers – and simply as individuals – it might feel overwhelming. It does feel overwhelming. What role, if any, can photography play?

“In the face of human suffering, being equipped with nothing but a camera can leave a photographer feeling ‘helpless’ – the word of Magnum’s Mark Power. But Power, photographers like him, and the agencies who commission them, are driven by a sense of duty, not only to tell the human story but to create an historical record.”
– From Magnum’s article, Photographing a Crisis.

Mark Power is one of several Magnum photographers who have documented the issues surrounding the migration of people displaced from their homes by conflict, famine and natural disasters. He’s clear about the role of photography.

“I believe strongly in photography as a mark of history to carry forward to future generations to learn from.”
– Mark Power

The Power of a Photograph

I don’t believe that a single photograph has the power to change the world. If only that were so. But a still image can provide a moment to pause, to consider. A photograph can register in the mind, and be recalled more readily than film footage or an editorial column. This is the power of a photograph.

Many people believe that Nick Ut’s photograph, often referred to as Napalm Girl, made by Nick in 1972, altered the course of the Vietnam war. It’s fair to say that when the photo appeared on newspaper front pages around the world, resistance to the war was immediately hardened, the will of those who objected was reinforced and the arguments for maintaining the conflict were weakened.

I probably don’t need to post Nick’s photo here because if you’ve ever seen it, you will be able to bring it to your mind’s eye, even though it shows merely a fraction of a second from more than 50 years ago. This is the power of a photograph.

Documentary photographers have a responsibility to bear witness, to share what they’ve seen without embellishment, often without comment. They say, “This is what I saw. Look.”

The agency for change does not lie with the photographer or within the photograph. It resides in us, the viewers. We make the interpretation, we choose whether or not to act.

And that, I think, is likely to be my theme for 2026. Not advocacy, not instruction – but attention. I’ll continue to share work that has a voice; projects made with care, intention and integrity. Because if documentary photographs matter, they matter not as solutions but as questions – invitations to look, and to think.

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Children of Europe by David (Chim) Seymour

An early example of a photo essay which documents personal stories from a mass displacement event appeared in a 1949 book, Children of Europe.

David (Chim) Seymour travelled through Austria, Greece, Italy, Hungary and Poland, after the Second World War, documenting the lives of refugee children who had experienced mental and physical trauma.

After 75 years, the uncomplicated portraits in Children of Europe still resonate.

“Chim’s heart had always gone out to children, and they reacted to him with complete acceptance. They seemed oblivious of him, but he noticed every little movement, every little pain, every little pleasure. There is no artifice, no bravura of lighting expertise in Chim’s photographs of the children. They speak simply from his pictures.” – Inge Bondi

Children of Europe serves as an enduring record of the plight of post-war children, carrying with it an implicit plea from the innocent that future generations prevent the repetition of such atrocities.

The book begins with a poignant message from an imagined child survivor: Letter to a Grown Up.

“For you, childhood memories bring back some of the happiest years of your life: home, school, a garden or playground, your village or your street; your mother, distressed because your knees were scratched your pants torn… No doubt, your childhood was filled with dreams of Christmas turkeys, fancy dresses, or dolls dressed in satin and embroidery.

Our childhood was different.

We have been cold and hungry, and lived in filthy conditions. We have all witnessed violence, and frequently we have been its victims. Our life has meant only threats and hardship.

Do you know what this means? Have you ever thought of the extent of the disaster? Open your eyes and your hearts; learn to see and understand.

We homeless children have our neighbours for a family and you grown-ups are our country. We ourselves shall be grown-ups in a few years and, if we then see that millions of us have been abandoned a second time, we certainly shall lose faith in that ideal for which you fought.”

– From “Letter to a Grown Up” from “The Children of Europe” (1949)

It’s impossible to see those children looking out at us from sepia-aged photos and not feel their sense of yearning. Young boys with shaved heads looking directly into a lens, facing an uncertain future. Do their expressions tell us what they most desired in that moment? A bed with sheets? A change of clothes? A meal? The warmth of human affection? To go to sleep expecting breakfast in the morning, not bombing.

Conclusion

Inevitably, we each bring our own preconceptions to the images we see. Interpretations will be as many and varied as the number of people viewing the photos.

But one thing is indisputable. Images like these provide a priceless record of an event that we can learn from. They show the effects of conflict, the consequences of a failure of empathy. They illustrate what happens when we dehumanise others, when we create divisions between us and them.

The images alone cannot determine the lessons we take. What we learn is dictated by our morals, our sense of fairness, our humanity – and our willingness to stand up for what we believe to be right.

Refer a friend

Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

☆ Read – Photographing a Crisis

A summary and reflection of Magnum photographers working on migration projects.

◉ Listen – Ed Kashi interview

A wide-ranging interview with photojournalist Ed Kashi, which covers many aspects of the work of a documentary photographer.

▶︎ Watch – War Photographer

A documentary following James Nachtwey, one of the most highly-respected photojournalists working today.

⦿ Learn – RSF 2025 Round-up

Reporters Without Borders summary of 2025, the deadliest year for photojournalists.

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

And finally…

I’m on my way to the Foreign Correspondents’ Club in Bangkok, where political leaders will be engaging in a debate, hoping to persuade voters in the upcoming Thai election on 8 February.

It promises to be a lively election campaign, as they invariably are. I’ll be in Bangkok until the results are announced. I’m sure it will prove to be a fascinating start to the year.

Whatever 2026 has in store, I hope you find peace and contentment somewhere along the way.

Until next time, go well.

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Directory: Beyond the Frame newsletter archive.

Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

It might just be another date in the calendar but there is something provocative about the turn from one year to the next. It’s a time for reflection on the year that’s ending, and for hopeful expectation for the year ahead.

In terms of Beyond the Frame, 2025 has been an interesting year. Looking back, I see that I’ve published 48 editions containing 106,000 words (enough for a thick novel), highlighted the work of 98 fellow photographers, featured dozens of photo contests, books, and events.

In the process, I have learned so much. Before Beyond the Frame, I might have read an article or flipped through a photo book with what I now appreciate was limited attention. Now, wanting to learn more before committing to writing about a subject, I read more, research more, explore more, travel further along the trail. The depth and breadth of my knowledge have increased in ways that I could not have predicted.

I’m grateful to you, readers of Beyond the Frame, for being part of a community which provides that imperative.

I’m especially grateful to Paid Subscribers and Founding Members. Much as I enjoy writing newsletters, the time it takes is far, far greater than I anticipated. I could not justify investing that time without the support of paid subscriptions. Thank you.

Subscribe now

Reminder: You can access all archived editions for free. You’ll find a full directory and a list of tagged content plus a database of resources online.

I’m always keen to receive your comments, feedback and suggestions. Perhaps there’s a photographic technique or story you’d like me to include in a future edition? As always, you’ll find a comment button at the foot of the newsletter.

Most Popular Articles of 2025

These are the ten most read articles published in Beyond the Frame in 2025. Links in the titles.

1. Annapurna Kids

It’s no surprise that this video of giggling Nepalese children contributed to the most popular article of the year.

2. Kodachrome

A review of Kodak’s most iconic film with details of my Kodachrome emulation for Lightroom and Photoshop.

3. Street Portraits

A look at the techniques for impromptu street portraiture.

4. International Women’s Day

I’m pleased to see this edition in the top ten most-read list. It includes photos from a women’s co-operative in Nepal plus a look at the National Geographic book, Women of Vision.

5. The Napalm Girl Controversy

I’m sorry this story even exists. A documentary, now on Netflix, suggests that Nick Ut was not the author of the famous Napalm Girl photograph, made in Vietnam in 1972. Nobody would suggest that accurate attribution is not important but this documentary raises more questions than it answers and has resulted in an admired photojournalist’s reputation being jeopardised.

I was pleased to chat with Nick Ut at Visa pour l’Image this year and appreciated being part of the audience who gave him a standing ovation when he walked onto the stage.

6. On Reading

A collection of photos of people in public spaces reading books and newspapers.

Perhaps the act of reading something tangible, rather than on a digital screen, is something that resonates with us as a meaningful way to pass the time?

7. Valparaíso — Sergio Larrain

I really enjoyed learning about Sergio Larrain’s life and work and this short article was one of my favourites to write this year.

8. Paralympic Photographers

Looking at the sports photographs of blind photographer João Batista Maia da Silva and Ian Rice, who has multiple sclerosis.

9. Phi Ta Khon (Ghosts in Masks)

Photos from the spooky festival in northern Thailand. Part I and Part II were understandably popular with Beyond the Frame readers.

10. Cyanometer

Who could have predicted that Horace Bénédict de Saussure’s curious device for measuring the blueness of alpine skies, home-made in 1787, would still be finding an appreciative audience in 2025?

My own cyanometer is still available to download for free.

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Review of the Year 2025

Gear of the Year

I’d almost given up the search for a really versatile camera in a truly pocket-sized format but the Leica D-Lux 8 has been a revelation. Wide apertures, decent focal lengths, impressive image quality and the legendary Leica build quality. Reviewed in Beyond the Frame 72/.

Mobile App of the Year

The Leica Lux iPhone app began as a bit of a gimmick but has been thoughtfully developed to the point where it’s become my go-to mobile camera app. It offers emulations for several classic Leica lenses, exposure control and traditional Leica Look processing options. I’d recommend it to photographers looking to translate the Leica rangefinder experience to an iPhone.

Photo Event of the Year

It would be hard to beat the Women’s Euro Football finals in Switzerland in terms of energy and colour but my standout photography event in 2025 was undoubtedly Visa pour l’Image in Perpignan.

In turbulent and divisive times, Visa pour l’Image was a breath of fresh air, a timely reminder that there exists a conscientious community of photojournalists devoted to documenting events with integrity and compassion.

I wrote postcards from Perpignan in Beyond the Frame 71/ and Beyond the Frame 72/.

Photo Contest of the Year

In a crowded field, the Portrait of Britain photography contest stands out as being especially impressive. This year’s shortlist continues to highlight considered portraits that reflect the diversity of a multi-faceted nation. Often touching, always thought-provoking.

I shared some of my favourite portraits from this year’s entries in Beyond the Frame 76/.

Photo Book(s) of the Year

2025 has been the Year of the Photo Book for me. I’ve met many authors and enjoyed seeing the results of their labours of love. I’ve bought many photo books, all of which deserve promoting. I couldn’t choose only one favourite so these two are my picks for Photo Book of the Year 2025.

Alex Llovet’s And Into the Forest I Go looks a little gloomy at first glance. Closer inspection reveals a gentle, carefully-compiled collection of photos from the Spanish mountain forest of Collserola, near Barcelona.

Looking again at my short review in Beyond the Frame 57/, I see I described it as “gentle” there too. It’s one of the (too many) photo books I picked up this year that I’ve returned to most frequently.

When a skilled photographer with an empathetic eye turns their attention to a subject they are clearly passionate about, something special is produced. So it is with Suzy Bennett’s affectionate look at the Artisans of Dartmoor. I shared a glimpse of Suzy’s book in Beyond the Frame 64/ but I encourage you to spend some time enjoying photos from the project on her website.

Photo Documentary of the Year

Love + War is an intimate look at the life and work of conflict photographer Lynsey Addario.

At a time when more journalists are losing their lives than ever before, the National Geographic documentary shows the determination and sacrifice required to continue documenting the world’s most dangerous conflicts.

See more insights into Lynsey’s work in this Guardian review.

Podcast of the Year

Whilst Only Artists is not a new podcast, I discovered it this year and it quickly became a firm favourite. The premise is simple, an artist interviews a fellow artist of their choosing. There’s no presenter, no parameters, and the conversations are wide-ranging and free-flowing.

What I really appreciate is listening to creative people discuss challenges that most artists probably face: motivation, inspiration, confidence, dedication.

It seems that the BBC show finished in 2020 but there are 64 episodes to enjoy. Some of my favourites are Simon Stephens talking with Simon Armitage, Saxophonist Jess Gillam meeting David Bowie’s bassist, Gail Ann Dorsey in Paris, and artist Rose Wylie comparing hearing aids with comedian Stewart Lee.

TV Show of the Year

This unassuming BBC show isn’t about photography, as such, but it has many of the elements that I think matter to meaningful artistic endeavours.

The Repair Shop is another example of a simple premise proving to be surprisingly effective. Members of the public take treasured heirlooms to a rustic barn, where traditional craftspeople provide expert repairs and renovations.

The beloved artefacts are invariably attached to fond memories of family members, to evocative childhood memories, and very human tales from bygone days. The final act, where heirlooms are revealed in their shiny, restored state is often emotional, as tender memories are evoked.

In an increasingly superficial and decidedly digital world, The Repair Shop is a welcome escape to an analogue world where a wind-up child’s toy or a tatty old camera can be priceless.

I posted some videos showing Repair Shop camera restorations in Beyond the Frame 56/.

What’s your favourite photo book, event, podcast etc. from 2025? I’d love to know. Please leave a comment with your recommendations.

Refer a friend

“ A photograph can be an instant of life captured for eternity that will never cease looking back at you.” – Brigitte Bardot

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

And finally…

I did also promise to share my Joke of the Year…

Ho hum…

It’s not so much the joke as the execution that was amusing. Well, amusing to one person, at least. Here goes:

I’m in my office. Mrs G enters, plants both hands on my desk, fixes me with a serious look.

“Somebody said you sound like an owl.”

I’m dumbfounded.

“WHO?”

Mrs G dissolves into hysterics.

That’s it. That’s the joke.

Yes, you really had to be there.

🙄

2025 has, on balance, been an excellent year. It’s worth taking the time to reflect, to add up all the good fortune, to be reminded of all the light and the laughter that has blessed the year.

And what about the year ahead? What does 2026 hold in store?

I’m hoping, personally at least, there will be more of the same – plus a bit.

The world can feel like a dysfunctional and daunting place at times. Perhaps now more than ever before in my lifetime. If I was to make a New Year’s resolution it would be to try and keep my focus on those things which I can influence, not to be overly distracted by events beyond my control. Somebody’s probably written a poem suggesting an approach along those lines 😬

For the year ahead, I wish you the most enticing adventures, the most rewarding relationships, and the very best light.

Until next time – and next year, go well.

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Directory: Beyond the Frame newsletter archive.

Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

Pashupatinath is situated on the banks of the sacred Bagmati River in Kathmandu. It is home to the most revered temple in Nepal, a popular pilgrimage destination and a sacred site for riverside cremations.

Visitors to Pashupatinath are likely to encounter sadhus – Hindu holy men who have renounced an earthbound life in pursuit of spiritual discipline and liberation from the cycle of birth and death. Some wear only a simple dhoti or loincloth; some wear nothing at all. Others are dressed in saffron and yellow robes, their faces marked with elaborate tilak decorations made from sacred ash (vibhuti), sandalwood paste (chandan) and vermilion (sindoor or kumkum).

Some Sadhus occupy a more performative role, readily posing for photographs beside a colourful temple wall in exchange for a small donation. The distinction between devoted ascetic and tourist-pleasing sadhu is not always clear – but a polite commercial exchange probably never harmed anybody’s search for spiritual enlightenment.

Visual Weight in photography

Something I find interesting about this picture relates to what we call visual weight: the elements in a frame that draw our eye. Visual weight dictates our instinctive response to an image.

Human vision is not neutral. What attracts our attention has been shaped by evolution and culture.

If there’s a human face in a frame, we will almost invariably look at that first. Swift recognition of faces is hard-wired into our brains. Our gaze is also drawn to areas of sharp focus and strong contrast. Bold colours have considerable visual weight and a saturated component will always outweigh muted tones.

Isolated figures gain visual weight by virtue of being alone; they stand out against the negative space of blank walls or repeating patterns.

Less weighty but still tipping the scales: gestures, familiar symbols (especially political or religious), and expectation-defying inconsistencies (like a mask or painted face).

Our initial scan happens in the blink of an eye. By the time we’ve engaged a conscious gaze, our eyes and brain have already completed an initial sweep, seeking out the familiar. This, supposedly, has evolved from our attempts to avoid being eaten by wolves and tigers.

Examples

In these examples, the elements with greatest visual weight are easy to identify.

An exception to prove the rule

The picture of the sadhu in Kathmandu appears to possess many of the ingredients necessary for strong visual weight:

• Human face ✅

• Bold colours ✅

• Isolated against negative space ✅

• Gesture ✅

• Religious symbol ✅

• Unexpected element (face paint) ✅

And yet…

Even though our eyes might initially land on the sadhu standing in the alcove, there is another element that arguably possesses even greater visual mass. It’s not a face, it isn’t colourful, and it’s relatively small – but it carries a cultural significance that is considerably weightier than the holy man.

By now, I’m certain you will have noticed the swastika symbol. Your reaction will almost certainly have been influenced by your age and the place where you grew up.

If you are Indian or Nepalese, you’ll most likely see an auspicious symbol conveying good fortune or wellbeing. You might pay little attention to it, being used to seeing it painted on the walls of homes and temples, on shopfronts, cars and trucks. It’s a symbol that’s a part of the visual fabric of everyday life in many Asian countries – and has been for at least 3,000 years.

If you grew up in Europe or the USA, your eyes might also be drawn to the swastika. But the cultural significance of the symbol that German Nazis appropriated in the 1920s might evoke a very different reaction.

The German National Socialist swastika was rotated, repurposed and weaponised to represent a racist, totalitarian ideology. That version of the swastika is banned in several European countries and even where it’s not illegal, it carries grim associations of hatred, intolerance and genocide.

To state the obvious, symbols don’t get any weightier than a swastika.

Even where it appears in an entirely peaceful and well-meaning context, we bring our own baggage and interpretations to the symbol. For me, even typing the symbol’s name feels uncomfortable.

If you have a strong reaction to the swastika, it probably influences how you react to the picture as a whole. It’s an image that would be unlikely to sell as a stock photograph to a Western outlet – and if it were licensed, I’d fully expect a client to ask for the symbol to be removed.

Does the photo look very different without the swastika? If you’d never seen the original version above, you might find the edited version to be a perfectly innocent image.

But having seen the original, does the version without the swastika still feel tainted?

I was surprised when I first saw swastikas in Asia. And the symbol really is ubiquitous in many countries. I’ve since learned its true origins but, even so, I still instinctively crop it out when I’m framing compositions.

However, I deliberately included it in my original composition in order to illustrate the point about visual weight – and how, ultimately, that is dictated by the audience.

At this point, I feel like I’ve taken the largest of mallets to crack a tiny walnut. I’m sure you get my point.

A camera shutter opens for a fraction of a second but the resulting image lasts a lifetime or more, available for close and lengthy inspection.

Yes, we can follow the advice to “always check the edges of the frame” and do our best to see what other elements might have unexpected visual weight. For landscape and studio photographers, that’s a big part of the skill set. On the street, it’s a luxury we rarely have – but it is an instinct that can be developed with practice.

The results can only be fully appreciated in the edit, when the image is on a screen or a print. We should never assume that what we believe is the main subject won’t be relegated to a walk-on part, outweighed by something unnoticed but profound.

Visually speaking, the most obvious thing does not always weigh the most.

No prizes for guessing what weighs the most in this picture - literally, if not visually.

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Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

⦿ Learn

Darkroom Rumour

I’m pleased to announce that all Founding Member subscribers to Beyond the Frame now receive a full, six-month subscription to the Darkroom Rumour film library.

The Darkroom Rumour is an online library of handpicked photography documentaries. The library includes many fascinating films, including the story of rediscovering lost negatives of Robert Capa and Gerda Taro, a touching insight into the life and work of Saul Leiter, a thought-provoking film about Sally Mann, and dozens more.

Founding Member benefits now include:

• All editions of Beyond the Frame + exclusive Founding Member editions

• 100% discount on digital products (e.g. Kodachrome presets worth €89)

• Six-month subscription to the Darkroom Rumour (worth €60)

• Pack of ten fine art postcards (€19.99)

Founding Member subscriptions cost €120 (£105/$135) per year. As well as supporting Beyond the Frame, I hope I’m making a Founding Member subscription good value for money.

Subscribe now

◉ Listen

Ivan McClellan on Photo Country

Ivan McClellan’s interview on the Photo Country podcast was an education for me. I had no idea, for example, that 1 in 4 cowboys in the early days of the Wild West were black. But then my education about the Wild West was limited to John Wayne films.

Ivan speaks about the overlap of black culture and cowboy culture. The interview provides a fascinating and informative insight into a world that I must confess I knew little about. It’s a great example of what a thoughtful podcast can deliver.

“I really do believe that joy is an act of rebellion… it’s the most powerful thing that you can do: to say to those that want to control us, or to those that want to destroy our spirits, or destroy our environment, ‘No’. We’re going to come together as a community and we’re going to absolutely celebrate something that we’re collectively excited about.” – Ivan McClellan

☆ Read

Eight seconds - Black Cowboys in America

McClellan’s website portfolio shares images of black cowboy culture. I recommend taking a few moments to enjoy the gallery on the Artworks page. You can also follow Ivan and the Eight Seconds project on Instagram.

“The cowboy has always been a symbol of freedom. My work insists that Black folks belong in that symbol, that we’ve always been there, reins in hand, boots in stirrups, eyes cast on the wide-open sky.”

▶︎ Watch

Concrete Cowboy

The Idris Elba film mentioned in the podcast, Concrete Cowboy, is based on the real-life Fletcher Street Cowboys, a century-old community of black-owned stables in Philadelphia.

The film is available to stream on Netflix and you can read more about the Fletcher Street Urban Riders in this article in Time magazine.

❖ See

Robert Capa. ICONS in Madrid

The largest retrospective of Robert Capa’s photographs in Spain can be seen at the Círculo de Bellas Artes in Madrid until 25 January 2026. The collection includes more than 250 pieces: photographs, articles and Capa’s personal belongings, many from the Magnum archives.

The cropped image above comes from Capa’s photo of a woman (Simone Touseau), surrounded by a large crowd. She is carrying her baby daughter along a street in Chartres, France, in August 1944. Touseau’s head has been shaved as retribution for her collaborating with the Germans during World War II.

I never read about Capa and his professional and romantic partner, Gerda Taro without being reminded of alt-J’s song, Taro, and the YouTube fan video, made with footage from the film Powaqqatsi.

There’s a lot to unpack in that paragraph. Maybe just enjoy the video.

If you happen to be in Madrid next month, I’d say the Capa ICONS exhibition counts as a must-see.

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

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And finally…

Next week, I plan to bring you my round up of 2025. My personal selection of my favourite camera gear, most memorable photographic moments, most inspiring photo projects, favourite photo book… also the best joke of 2025, courtesy of the comedian I live with.

I wish you a very merry Christmas.

Until next time, go well.

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Directory: Beyond the Frame newsletter archive.

Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

It’s rainy season in Bangkok. And when the rain falls here, it is not subtle. Gentle, cosy words like shower and drizzle are redundant here. It’s always a downpour, a deluge or a torrent.

When the rain comes – always suddenly and at full force – people move differently. Elegance and poise are immediately sacrificed in favour of a hurried, crosswalk-dashing, puddle-hopping sprint for cover.

Was this man’s closely-matched combination of blue checked umbrella and blue checked shirt a conscious choice or merely coincidence? The storm doesn’t care. Its only job is to upend his day.

Job done.

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Don’t be a chimp

The LCD screen in the back of our cameras is a helpful tool. However, it also comes with an inherent risk, which is why my camera screen is always turned off.

It’s called “chimping”. A slightly derogatory term used to describe photographers scrolling through their images in the screen of a digital camera, saying “Ooh! Ooh! OOH!” like an excited chimpanzee.

JC Pieri’s video of a chimpanzee demonstrating “chimping” has been viewed over 122 million times. When a chimp does it, it’s impressive. Arguably less so for human photographers.

I don’t like to describe it as chimping, but it is definitely a habit that many digital photographers develop. I understand the temptation. The ability to quickly review images, to check composition and exposure… it’s a valuable tool. But like many temptations, it comes with an inherent downside.

Most digital cameras have the auto-review option turned on by default. When we make a frame, the image appears almost instantly in the LCD screen. A quick check is reassuring and provides the sort of instant gratification that can be hard to resist.

However, that habit quickly builds into a Pavlovian reaction. Click the shutter, look at the screen. Click the shutter, look at the screen. Click the shutter…

Bad habits

Four reasons why constantly looking at the camera’s screen is a bad habit:

1. It kills our attention. The rhythm of photographing demands our full attention. We’re observing, noticing, anticipating. If we’re photographing a landscape, we’re watching the light shift. A street scene, we’re anticipating a moment, an interaction. With portraits, we’re looking for expressions, a shift in pose, a fleeting smile. It’s the very nature of almost all photography and, arguably, a skill that defines the best photographers: the ability to be immersed in the moment, to be fully attentive, ready to anticipate what Henri Cartier-Bresson described as “rhythm in the world of real things.” Do you know what simple action will immediately dissolve the level of attention we’re seeking? Looking away. Being distracted. Attention is everything.

2. It’s impolite. In any kind of portrait photography, the connection between photographer and subject is paramount. The camera is an obstacle, a black box barrier that must be relegated to a place of almost zero importance. If you’re making portraits but constantly looking at your camera, you’re bringing the quality of your connection back to a flatline each time. You wouldn’t go on a first date to a candlelit restaurant and be constantly looking at your phone. Obviously, that would be rude and you’re unlikely to progress to a second date. Attention is everything.

3. You don’t know what you’re missing. In those seconds when we might be looking at our camera screen, we’re no longer clicking the shutter, moments are slipping away unnoticed. Who knows what might be happening in front of our eyes, if only our eyes weren’t glued to our camera screens? Attention is everything – and not only in photography, come to think of it. But that’s another story.

4. It kills your confidence. It’s possible that the need to immediately review every frame becomes a habitual crutch for photographers who aren’t confident in their ability. If you can’t be reasonably sure that you’ve picked the best metering mode, dialled-in the right aperture, flipped the shutter at the right moment, always checking the LCD screen won’t help you build that confidence. Confidence is built upon making mistakes and learning from them. So just keep making photos and learn to trust your judgement, not the LCD screen.

A better strategy

In the bang-for-your-buck ratio of effort to reward, this might be the best photography tip ever:

Turn off the auto-review setting on your camera.

That’s it!

You can still review images, but only after the moment has passed, when you’ve made your series of images, when the portrait session reaches a natural pause.

At that point the ability to quickly review images is one of the great benefits of digital photography. Go ahead, check the histograms, review compositions, check focus sharpness, etc. but by waiting, you will have maintained your full attention to the moment. Complete attention is the most valuable skill any photographer can possess.

Two example stories

I’ve noticed that photographers who started out using film cameras are less likely to develop this bad habit. Working without the luxury of a digital screen removed that potential distraction. Film photographers have no expectation of instant gratification. Knowing that it could be weeks or months before seeing an image provides film photographers with a great incentive to know their camera well, to understand how it reads light, to know how various apertures affect depth-of-field with different lenses.

A photographer looking at their camera screen after every frame is like a violinist playing back a recording after every note. It might offer some reassurance that they’re playing the right notes but they’ll never make beautiful music.

Girls Running Home by William Albert Allard

This photo, made by William Albert Allard in 1967, has long been one of my favourites. I’m fortunate to have a signed copy hanging on my study wall.

In interviews, Allard often shares a clear recollection of the moment.

“I was in the French Basque country, standing on the edge of a road leading to a small village in the Pyrenees… it was at that wonderful time of the day when the sun has gone down but it’s not yet dark… in France, they have this wonderful phrase, ‘Entre chien et loup’ that means, the time between dogs and wolves.”

“I heard the pitter-patter of children’s feet on the gravel, passing behind me. I turned and I saw these two little girls… I raised my Leica and I quickly framed two vertical pictures.”

“I didn’t get back to the office until a month or so later. I went through the film and I saw these two frames. The first was blurry – and the second was just kind of magical. These two girls weren’t really running or skipping; they were floating. Each had little red socks on – you see that tiny, little accent of red, which can be such a significant colour in a composition.”

Imagine fast forwarding to the digital age, how differently that last quote might read if Allard had developed a chimping habit.

“The first frame was blurry – I didn’t make a second because I was looking at my camera. When I looked up, the girls had gone.”

You get my point. Attention is everything.

For the record, I know for sure that Allard hasn’t developed a chimping habit in the digital age. He’s reliably old school, in the very best sense of the phrase.

The President and the Intern

In 1996, during the presidential campaign in the USA, photographer Dirck Halstead was working at a fundraising event for the Democratic party.

Unlike most of his colleagues who’d already switched to digital, Halstead was working with an analogue camera loaded with film. As usual, he made hundreds of frames during the event, many very similar to each other, most were unremarkable photos featuring Clinton greeting supporters; nothing very newsworthy.

Halstead’s fellow photographers also made hundreds of frames, but because they were working with digital cameras, they reviewed and deleted the files that weren’t “worth keeping” at the end of the night.

Within a year, the Monica Lewinsky scandal erupted and picture editors around the world were desperate to find a photo of the young intern.

No prizes for guessing where this story is heading.

No other photographers had kept their photos of Bill Clinton hugging Monica Lewinsky. At the time, she had been an unknown intern, in no way newsworthy.

Within a year she was at the centre of one of the biggest political scandals of the 1990s and Halstead’s “unremarkable” analogue photo would appear in newspapers and on magazine covers around the world.

Chimping, it turns out, can lead to premature ejection. And if that doesn’t persuade you to break the habit…

TL;DR

If you want to improve your chances of making a timeless photo like Bill Allard’s or if you hope to see your work on the cover of Time magazine, don’t be a chimp.

And don’t delete your original raw files. Ever.

Attention is everything. Thank you for yours.

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Beyond the Frame Recommendations

Articles, documentaries, exhibitions, podcasts and more.

☆ Read

A World in Colour: Nordic edition

If you’ve been following my updates about Magnum’s digitising of their huge archive of slides, you’ll want to see the final chapter of the World of Colour project: The Nordic Edition.

As with all the previous editions, the Nordic edition contains images that have never been seen publicly before. The scanned slides have all the evocative characteristics that we associate with colour images from the 20th century. Blocky shadows, teal skies, amber colour shifts and the immediacy of unedited pictures, just as the photographer saw them.

Dare I say, for all their apparent lack of sophistication, the original images – untroubled by digital manipulation and dizzying dynamic ranges – seem all the more tangible, more real. Perhaps I have a kind of synaesthesia; when I look at these lovingly restored photos, I feel my taste buds tingle.

We can also see examples of the full transparency mounts, with all the handwritten annotations, which enhance the sense that we’re seeing something authentic and unadulterated. Increasingly these days, that’s a welcome experience.

I’ve written about previous editions of the World in Colour project in Beyond the Frame editions 69/ and 71/, and reviewed my visit to the exhibition in London in Beyond the Frame 72/.

◉ Listen

Interview with Dirck Halstead

If you’re interested in learning more about Dirck Halstead (see the Bill Clinton story above), there’s a recording of an interview he gave in 2010 at New York’s Binghamton University.

He doesn’t speak about his famous Lewinsky photo but he does reveal some unexpected observations about the former president.

▶︎ Watch

William Albert Allard on Capturing Moments

This is my 80th newsletter. Much of what I’ve written attempts to convey what Allard manages to get across in two and a half minutes in this National Geographic video.

Emotion. Engagement. Passion. Serendipity. Attention. Grace.

There you go. Six words that define the essential ingredients of any meaningful artistic endeavour. Thank you, Bill.

❖ See

Sergio Larraín exhibition in New York

You can see a collection of the works of Chilean photographer Sergio Larraín in New York until 12 January 2026.

Prints from the Magnum archive are on display at the International Center of Photography in Manhattan.

I’ve written about the life and work of Sergio Larraín in Beyond the Frame 39/.

I’m disappointed that I didn’t get a chance to see the exhibition when I was in New York last month. If you’re able to visit, I hope you’ll enjoy seeing the prints up close.

Press release for the Sergio Larraín: Wanderings exhibition.

✤ Create

A series of creative prompts, inspired by Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies, and designed with photographers in mind.

Read more about the concept and learn how to use my Oblique Strategies for Photographers.

Subscribe now

And finally…

It’s only four days until the winter solstice in the northern hemisphere. Four days until the shortest day and then the light will gradually return.

I don’t mind the winter, provided there are occasional bright days – I can’t be doing with those dreary, overcast days when all the colour has been sucked out of the world – but I’m always happier after the solstice, when Spring’s arrival is approaching.

Whether you’re in the northern or the southern part of the planet, I hope this season has been treating you kindly.

Until next time, go well.

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Directory: Beyond the Frame newsletter archive.

Resources: Recommended books, films, gear, media etc.

In Indonesia, an Australian not-for-profit has restored sight to almost 4,000 cataract sufferers in 2025. The John Fawcett Foundation has also provided free eye health screening to 39,000 Indonesians this year.

In this edition I share some of the photos made when I had an opportunity to join a mobile screening and treatment programme.

A Winter’s Tale

Many years ago – in a different millennium, in fact – at the very start of my photographic career, I joined a group of wizened old photojournalists in a snow-covered Cornish pub for what was advertised as the monthly meeting of a Photographers’ Alliance.

There were 6 photographers in the group, plus me, lucky number 7.

Fresh-faced and eager to learn, I arrived with a long list of questions. I quickly learned that the unspoken ratio of answers to drinks from the bar was 3:1. By the time three of my questions had been answered, all pint glasses had been emptied and it was my round again.

My money ran out long before my questions.

Looking back, I see that the advice I gleaned in that pub has proved to be worth every penny. I’ve been thinking about one piece of advice which has possibly opened more doors for me than any other. It’s the simple but effective piggy-back assignment strategy.

Like all the most effective strategies, it’s beautifully simple but ever so productive.

The Piggy-back Assignment

This is how it works: A client with a reasonable budget assigns a photographer to complete an assignment on location. Perhaps it’s a well-known magazine or a global brand, they want images to accompany a long-form article or to promote a product launch.

The assignment includes several days on location. Travel and accommodation expenses are covered and the photographer is paid an appropriate daily rate. Local guides, drivers and translators are employed, models may be booked, along with make-up artists and stylists.

Locations are chosen, a schedule is prepared. Hopefully, everything comes together as planned; the images are made; the Art Director signs off and everybody heads home to prepare for their next project.

But, almost invariably, there will also be NGO projects in the neighbourhood, regardless of where in the world the assignment takes place. It might be a large educational programme run by a global charity, a clean water installation funded by a regional NGO, or maybe a simple renovation project run by local community volunteers.

These projects aren’t blessed with the same deep pockets as the global fashion brands and glossy magazine titles. There’s probably very little in their budget for promotion and marketing. Every penny has to be accounted for and a photographer’s typical daily rate is a luxury that most would struggle to justify.

In my experience, they welcome an offer to piggy-back with enthusiasm.

Vanity Fair in Indonesia

This is an example of how it worked when I was assigned by Vanity Fair to make a series of images in Indonesia for the magazine’s annual travel supplement. Once the brief was set and the booking confirmed, I contacted the John Fawcett Foundation, whose work I was familiar with, and asked if they could use me for a day - with no fee or expenses.

It’s very much a win-win for all concerned. I always ask the paying client if they’re willing to cover an extra day’s expenses so that I can offer some pro-bono time to an NGO. So far no clients have rejected the suggestion. The client can enjoy a sense that they’re contributing to something worthwhile, the NGO gets a self-sufficient pro photographer for a day or two, and I get to discover a project that I might otherwise never have seen – and where I’ll invariably meet impressive people engaged in fascinating work.

Some self-imposed rules for piggy-back assignments

1. I always let the paying client know what I’m planning and invite them to contribute as a partner.

2. I make sure that the paying client knows that their job will always be my main priority. It’s not uncommon to book additional days on location to allow for unforeseen delays. I’ll sometimes suggest that these days be given over to pro-bono work if all has gone to plan.

3. Once I’ve started work, I treat the pro-bono project exactly the same as a paid assignment, giving it the same level of attention and care.

4. I retain copyright on my images – which I always do whether I’m being paid or not – but give processed image files to the NGO with an exclusive, unrestricted, royalty-free license so they’re free to use photos in marketing material, websites, emails and other promotional materials.

5. I do my best to ensure that my offer doesn’t make additional demands on the NGO. If I need a driver or translator, I’ll hire one rather than take a staff member away from their work.

John Fawcett Foundation

Since 1991, the John Fawcett Foundation has been restoring the sight of people in disadvantaged communities in Indonesia.

The NGO’s mobile eye clinic is able to reach remote islands, where residents have no access to ophthalmic services. During a typical two-day visit, up to 500 people can be screened, spectacles are provided to more than 300, about 250 people will be treated for painful eye infections and a dozen or more cataract sufferers will have their sight restored.

It’s an impressive programme just on the numbers alone. Seeing it first-hand was an extraordinary experience.

The Mobile Eye Clinic

In my time with the JFF mobile clinic, medical staff were able to screen, treat, and perform cataract removal operations on more than a dozen elderly patients.

The procedure is quick but unhurried. To the surgeon who has performed literally thousands of cataract removals it might seem like another day at the office. To me, watching the magnified image of a patient’s eye on a TV screen, it was humbling.

A precise incision is made, the cataract removed, a new lens inserted, and sutures are applied. After a few days the bandages are removed and grandparents will regain their sight. Several who’d previously had one eye treated described seeing their grandchildren for the first time. The tears in their eyes were not a result of the surgery.

Sponsorship

It costs about €1,400 (USD $1,660) for JFF to deploy a two-day screening and treatment programme. When you consider that ten people who are blinded by cataracts could have their sight restored, that’s incredibly good value for money. Not forgetting the hundreds who will be screened, receive free spectacles or receive treatment for infections.

If you are looking for a Christmas gift this holiday season and, like me, your imagination tends to run out after “socks?”, perhaps consider making a donation to JFF on behalf of your loved one. Posh chocolates will get eaten, fancy soaps are destined to go down the plug-hole, restoring a person’s sight seems like a pretty good alternative.