Rats!

Completely unrelated picture of a dead rat with an ant in its mouth.

As I walked towards the shore to get closer to the windsurfers in Apelviken, I remember checking my pockets. Should I zip them up in case my LX3 falls out? I patted down my side pocket and felt that it was secure. No way that my iPhone could jump out of my chest pocket with its deep lining. Right.

Last week I was in Sweden to oversee the final preparations for our impending wedding there next month and I dropped my iPhone into the sea. I try to keep things in perspective, but it had started badly, my fiancée missed our flight because the Swedish Embassy hadn't cleared her visa as promised, and so we couldn't apply for the marriage license. No wedding at this stage.

The plan was to secure the wedding license and a band. I tried every band in the region, with no luck, and then some more bands on the other side of the country, and they were all booked. Silent wedding, great. And then I dropped my phone in the sea. Rats.

It was a small skip - not even a jump - between two rocks that caused it, one of those moments that seemed to happen in slow motion. Somehow the phone must have been lodged just SO because it projectiled out of my pocket, up under my nose and away from me, my hand nearly caught it but the phone evaded my grasp perfectly, bounced on another rock and then into the sea.

Luckily the water was fairly shallow where it landed and I stepped in immediately to retrieve it. I got soaked, sure, but at least I had my phone again. The strange thing was that it still worked! I could not believe it. It had only been in the sea a few seconds, but it worked.

I hurriedly walked back to the car, hoping that no one had seen the idiot walking into the sea and quickly putting a soaking wet phone back into the pocket where it had jumped out of. Back in the car I checked the phone. I could swipe to unlock it, tried an app but then it locked up again. I started shaking out water, lots of it, but it still worked.

Then it began to flicker. Then the bottom half of the screen went white. It started vibrating non stop. After a few minutes it finally went dead. I placed it on a radiator overnight in the vain hope of it drying out and working again. I hardly slept that night, all those images, notes, emails, work, heck - all of my life was on that phone!

Of course it didn't work the next day. I was in grieving. Disconnected from the world. I remember working as a mobile telecomms researcher in the 90's, working for O2 and Vodafone, telling my director that one day our phones will handle everything, and him telling me that will never happen. He is still in his old job.

But traumatic it was, as Yoda might've said. I lost a handful of images taken during the trip, that's all, and the only thing I've gained is a question: how-did-we-do-it-before-internet-phones?

The submerged phone has now been jiffy bagged and sent off to the insurers and I've kindly been lent a spare 3GS from a colleague, and the wedding is still on! My fiancee got another flight the next day and the above mentioned colleague has also accepted DJ'ing at our wedding. Woot!

Thanks to my colleague Valroy, thanks to the the Visa handler at the Swedish Embassy for sorting my fiancées papers in London and thanks to my hometown's bureaucracy for being so considerate with our missed appointment.

In other news, get some some visual pleasure, watch Henri Cartier-Bresson and pay close attention, photographers.

Oh, and check out my website at www.magnus-andersson.com, its gone live. Constructive comments only, if any, please.

Rolan Adams & Stephen Lawrence

20th anniversary march for Rolan Adams in February, 2011.

"It's been a long time in coming but we still have a long way to go, and so at this moment in time, all I can think about is Stephen. Perhaps somewhere down the line we will finally get justice for him, because everything has just been a long time for us to get to this position." Doreen Lawrence, May 18, 2011

These pic's come from the Thamesmead Housing Estate, south east London (where parts of one my all time favourite movies A Clockwork Orange was filmed). I first visited in 1997 when a friend lived there and I will always remember it as a bleak and desolate place. It was bad back then and it is bad now, one of the poorest parts of London.

On a grey February day, along with fellow photographer David Hoffman, I attended the 20th anniversary memorial to the little-publicised racist murder of Rolan Adams, 15, which happened only a stone's throw away from these pictures.

I had arrived a bit early for the job and had time to wander around the estate again for the first time in nearly 14 years since my first (and only) visit.

People at the memorial told me about their stories from 20 years ago, how the racist BNP had moved in and how scared they were. Nobody of colour could visit the pub - if you did it was a gamble with your own life, and Rolan's peers all had a story to tell on how, once, perhaps to watch a football match, or simply try to have a drink with a friend, they bravely ventured to the pub only to be chased away by white youths wielding knives, bats and chains.

In Rolan's case it was to be fatal, just like Stephen Lawrence, 18, two miles away and two years later.

On the day before Rolan's murder, anti-racist organiser Dev Barrah, still active in the community, said on Thames TV that it was 'only a matter of time before someone got murdered'. His ominous prediction proved true within 24 hours. Rolan was outnumbered by 15 white youths and slashed in the throat, as he and his brother walked home from a youth club.

If you have the stomach, read this 1991 Guardian article by Jocelyn Targett via London Street Gangs. Its colourful language at first, but nevertheless a good read.

Rolan's murderer, Mark Thornburrow, has recently been freed but Stephen's killers never served time in the first place. There has been trials before, but the amount of injustice in his case is unbelievable. When an institutionally racist police force handles a racially motivated murder, this is what happens.

Today though, there were at last some good news: two men are to be tried for Stephen's murder which happened 18 years ago. Justice for dead young black men in this country turns slowly.

Rolan would have been 35, Stephen would have been 36. Rest in peace.

If you arm yourself only with a camera...

Tim Hetherington. Image courtesy of Frontline Club.

...you are most likely going to lose out in a war zone. Tim Hetherington and Chris Hondros paid the ultimate price yesterday when they were hit by a targeted RPG/grenade/mortar attack in Libya.

I did not know either of them yet I have cried over their passing. The more I look at the interviews and images from these two men, the more I realise that this loss goes beyond merely two more dead in a far away war. I feel inadequate calling myself a photojournalist when I look at their work.

I've watched Tim's 1.5h appearance at the Frontline Club in full and if you were ever in doubt that photojournalists are mere button pressing monkeys, please take some time out and watch this clip from 2009. Few people are as well informed and eloquent as him. This is an extremely sad day for their families, a sad day for (some) of the people they documented and a big loss for photojournalism.

I've got nothing but respect for what you did with your lives. Rest in peace Tim and Chris.

Terry Scales

This is artist Terry Scales, 78, in his Greenwich home and studio. He's a lovely and humble man who has been painting scenes along the Thames since he was a boy and will soon have an exhibition at The Old Royal Naval College. Go see it!

"I remember making my first river painting in 1946 at the age of 13. It was in John Minton’s class at Camberwell School of Art. Ever since then I have seen the Thames as a constant source of ideas and challenging subject matter." Quote from his website.

You can also watch a piece on Terry from the BBC here.

Upcoming exhibition info here.

Elvis

Power to the people

Earlier today we went on the TUC organised March for the Alternative in central London. My fiancé (who works for Camden council) and me tried to find the NUJ section but finding anyone in this crowd was difficult. I ran into three SLP colleagues but quickly lost them again. No wonder when there have been reports of up to 500.000 people attending the event. Good show!



We went along to show our support for the people who have already lost their jobs because of this Con-Dem government, and for those that are fighting to keep theirs, and for the future generations of children who can no longer afford university, for the people who might not get proper health care and to show our outrage at the bankers getting bonuses while the rest of us paid with our tax money to fix their problems, etc etc etc. Hey David Cameron, if you ever wanted to see a big society, look now.



As I write this, the 24-hour news channels are busy repeating the incidents caused by a few idiots who took the opportunity to cause havoc in London under the guise of The March for the Alternative, rather than focusing on the enormous amount of people who marched happily and peacefully, unified against this unholy coalition government.



With that in mind, I'd rather share some 'ordinary' images from the march as it was perceived by the majority. Power to the people!














All images © Magnus Andersson

PS. For a little extra flavour you can check out my earlier live feed from today here.

Super moon

The super moon as seen earlier tonight. © Magnus Andersson

Nat Geo tells you all you need to know about it. Look outside now! That impact crater on the bottom right is serious (for the pixel peepers, shot on a D700 with a 300/2.8 and a 2x extender).

Spring is here

Bumble bee sucking spring nectar. © Magnus Andersson

Today we had +15C in London, a marvellous spring day with plenty of bird song and numerous bumble bees waking up from their winter slumber, drunkenly sucking all the nectar they can find on the new flowers. Mum and dad find it hard to believe as apparently they had -11C yesterday, so this is for the doubters back home. ;)


Spring flower. © Magnus Andersson


Spring flower. © Magnus Andersson


Spring flowers. © Magnus Andersson

A little woopsy

Michael Palin giving a speech in a retirement home. © Magnus Andersson

I messed up before Christmas. I was scheduled to photograph Monty Python funny man and explorer-extraordinaire Michael Palin at an retirement home, but I was running late. It was a cold day and I was wearing the customary scarf of a photojournalist-in-denial: the Keffiyeh (aka Palestinian scarf, aka كوفية‎ and many more names, basically a head scarf traditionally seen in Arab countries.

In the West however, we misunderstand it and wear it around our neck. There's currently a huge lack of sand storms in the UK, which renders this head dress more suitable as a scarf. So you get the point. OK.

I arrived within minutes to spare of Palin's speech and parked quickly, paid the meter and ran across the road towards the entrance. The security guard was chatting to a mate in a car in the drive. When he saw me sprinting across the road he suddenly sprang into action to intercept me. I thought that this was a little odd for a retirement home and slowed down so he could reach me at the door.

I declared my intentions (local paper photog here for Michael Palin) and he seemed positively relieved! I was let in to the reception, where I was greeted by a smiling black lady who simply asked me to sign the register before introducing me to their PR person.

(At this stage I am still wearing my big camera backpack, winter jacket and, crucially, my keffiyeh scarf)

I am led down corridors perfumed with Glade to cover up the smell of old people (this is in no part a slight on old people's hygiene, it is simply a fact that these places tend to smell of wee+Glade).

Eventually I am led into a really warm room where 60-odd oldies are gathered waiting for Palin. I am told NOT to obscure the elderlies vision (long lens job) and only to take a few pictures during the opening MINUTE of his 40 minute speech, using NO flash in a near dark room. OK, I say (thank you D700).

"Would you mind putting your bag in hold during the event"? I am asked. Yes I would mind. I need this bag to do my job. "Harrumph" I can keep my bag but am asked to remove my jacket, fair enough.

It is only now, when I am firmly wedged in-between the chairs of a couple of really old frail ladies, with my long lens protruding, that I realise that the job description did mention something of a Jewish retirement home.

After my little woopsy, I was eventually allowed to shot the remainder of the session on both short and long lenses, but my keffiyeh magically disappeared into one of my lens cases.

Lesson learnt from all this? Try and read the job description carefully, and dress accordingly. ;)

Kick Them Out!

Front page: A training session for Kick It Out, run by Paul Elliott MBE (far left), a legendary ex-footballer whose career was cut short by injury. © Magnus Andersson

In the age of dinosaurs sports commentators spouting sexist comments, yes Andy Gray and Richard Keys, look away now, it's always nice to get to work for the good guys on the other side of the fence, those that realise that if you want to make a difference, you have to be that difference.

Bearing in mind the sports presenter events of last week, it is with some pleasure to announce that a picture (above) which I took just over a year ago while working with Kick It Out was chosen for the front page of their latest Annual Report. The report itself was launched at the House of Lords in Westminster last month, an event which I also covered.

As a staffer on a local newspaper you end up getting a lot of front pages so the excitement tends to wear off a little, but when its through one of your own freelance contacts and you are proud to play a (albeit small) part in the important work that is being done, it feels good!

Lord Herman Ouseley chatting to my buddy Francis Nkwain and Benoit Assou-Ekotto of Tottenham Hotspur FC at the House of Lords. © Magnus Andersson

And while Kick It Out's primary concern over the last 17 years has been against racism, they have always worked against all forms of discrimination in football. Lord Herman Ouseley, Chair of Kick It Out, said: "This indicates a lack of understanding by individuals at the forefront of sports broadcasting who are revered and respected by many, and hints at wider issues about sexism in society."

Getting the Kick It Out's Annual Review 2009-10 cover was a nice ending to last years output. The ousting of a couple of old 'experts' in the new year was a bonus. Onwards 2011, kick all the bigots out! :)

Full Kick It Out Annual Report 2009-10 here.