The sad tale of the missed photograph

So my sister and I were back in our hometown at the weekend to see The Mighty Boosh live (her birthday present to me) and to take photographs along three different stretches of coastline, for a commissioned project I'm doing. The show was noisy and rude and we loved it (though it has to be said that we felt like the oldest people there who weren't accompanying their offspring - the average age of a Boosh fan is apparently 19, so what that says about us I'm not sure). The next day we rocked up to the ferry to discover it was only running at weekends, a serious blow as my project hinged on photographs taken along that stretch of beach. So we raced along the coast to option B, and as it turned out, the light there was magical and I found plenty of inspiration. The next day it was overcast and i feared a trip on the ferry would be pointless, but the weather forecast predicted patches of blue sky around 2pm, so we geared ourselves up for a dash to the beach. With my brother-in-law driving, we played a mean game of Horse* and threw Boosh lines at each other making the half hour drive fly by. We arrived at the car park at exactly 1.50pm, and sure enough, the clouds were breaking up and gorgeous autumnal sun was shining down on the beach across the stretch of water. And then something happened that made me realise that all the weather chasing and ferry disappointment and every little thing that had happened up to that moment had been for a reason. Because at 1.55pm I looked out of the car window and saw that Julian Barratt, one half of the Mighty Boosh, was walking towards us. In a car park. In the middle of nowhere.

And so it was that we spent five minutes chatting to our comedy hero as he stood in the blustery cold, eating cockles bought from the quay-side fish shop, while his five other companions walked ahead to their car, chuckling as they went. He was as droll as you'd expect, and clearly uncomfortable with the attention. And we played it cool, while simultaneously peeing our pants with excitement. If you were standing in front of your comedy hero and had four cameras on you, you'd take a photo, right? It was only after we'd said our goodbyes that i realised a Hasselblad, a Holga, a Polaroid SX-70 and a Fuji point & shoot - hell, even a phone camera - just weren't enough to encourage me to take a photograph of the man. I have been kicking myself for days, people.

Four days after that strange coincidental meeting and I am still pondering the photos we didn't take, the photos we couldn't take and the ones we'll never be able to take again. The people we'll never photograph again. I realise that so many of my memories are tied into the photos i have and so many of my photographs i think are memories but really i'm just describing the image. If i'm taking photos at a family get-together I'll often feel removed from the scene - sometimes it's better to leave the camera in its bag and cut another slice of cake. When we met Julian Barratt i wanted to be present in that car park, even if i didn't consciously realise it. The 35-year-old me didn't want to pull out a camera and break the spell, though the 14-year-old inside me was jumping around like she'd bumped into Simon Le Bon circa 1985. What is it about people off the telly? By being bathed in their limelight for a moment do we hope that some of their charm rubs off on us? Whatever it is, it was still a thrill to be able to say to his face: thank you for making me laugh.

* if you see a horse you shout 'horse', simple as that. The person who sees the most wins. Steve won, but we know he cheated. Some of those horses were cows!

Comments

[sherry]

lol...I have often mistaken a cow for a horse!!! Nice to know others do too!!

I appreciated your thoughts in this post...of "being in the moment" of a special event or in this case of meeting someone you admire/respect/enjoy. I'm sure he would have been happy to have you snap his photograph but given the amount of camera equipment you had and you didn't ask he must have been (a) very puzzled as to why you didn't ask or just start shooting (as I'm sure some would) and (b) grateful that you respect his privacy enough to just enjoy the moment.

[Rhiannon]

Lovely to read how all the things that didn't work to plan actually led to you being in the right place at the right time. And yes, sometimes its better to leave the camera in the bag and just enjoy the situation. ( But if he could see all the cameras he must have wondered !!! ) :)

[Graciel @ Evenstar Art]

I just love this post. You make me smile wide. xo

[mary]

I know this sounds werid but every time I visit london I see The Mighty Boosh either singly or in pairs ! eg Julian near Parliament Hill apres tennis, on Soho Square, and I've seen Noel on Swaine's Lane. I swear I've not been stalking !

[bb]

Sooooooo jealous, but it couldn't have happened to a nicer gal. You might have lost your photo but you maintained your cool! Love ya xoxox

P.S. loving the new look ~bee~yoo~tee~ful~

[Anthony]

Well, yes, you know I think the memory is much more valuable than the photgraph that didn't happen. Whilst the camera is often a useful mirror shield, forcing people to concentrate on themselves rather than you, it also stops you breaking out and engaging with life, so your subconcious desire to engage with life is stronger than the more concious desire to take photographs. Personally I'd find that reassuring. So much better than having some good portraits but wishing that you'd engaged with him more...

[The Lady Prism]

It was fun reading this! :)

[The Lady Prism]

It was fun reading this! :)

[Maia]

I absolutely love this photo...and the Dorothea Lange quote you have on the sidebar is perfect.