London Festival of Photography Flash Mob

I've never been involved in, or seen, a flash mob event before. A post on Facebook changed that, and on Tuesday afternoon I headed off to a "secret location" (London's Russell Square) to join in the festivities, part of the London Festival of Photography.

I took a copy of the evening standard, hid my camera away in a handbag and sat on a bench, waiting for the other "togs" to appear. By 6.30pm there were about 30 or 40 obvious photographers congregating. I took out my camera and placed the strap around my neck. A man walking past asked me what was going on, a bemused look on his face (this was part of the point, I guess). I shrugged and said that I didn't know, before laughing and adding "it's a secret!" He hung around long enough to find out what it was all about and joined in with some of the snapping. At 6.40pm a whistle was blown and the assembled togs pressed play on their iPods, on which we'd all uploaded audio instructions.

The next 25 minutes involved a series of exercises, each lasting 4 minutes, with instructions spoken to start, and soft music (Morcheeba, perhaps) playing in the background while we carried out the exercises. The first task was to take a Facebook-style self-portrait. There were probably about 60 or 70 of us by now, and we all started turning our cameras on ourselves, trying to take a corny selfie. I think the result is pretty corny, especially with my extreme black and white, over-contrasty, vignetted post-processing treatment.

People took photos of other people taking photos of themselves. Unfortunately the screenshot of this Nikon guy taking his own photo disappeared a split-second before I took this shot - grrrr.

Everyone was smiling and snapping away. The atmosphere was really good - a bunch of strangers quietly going about their task. I should have taken off my headphones for a bit to see what it sounded like. Next time.

After the first task we all headed back to the circle in the centre of the park and awaited the next mission. The second task was to take photos of wildlife. There wasn't much animal life to see - I could only see feral pigeons. We snapped away at flowers, grass, leaves, and then a couple of guys dressed in crocodile (or perhaps dinosaur) suits appeared, drinking cans of beer, one of them clapping away at cymbals. All quite surreal.

Third up was to take a cheesy close-up shot. People headed off and photographed pretty pink pansies, leaves, other people, bits of detail from the bins and anything else of interest that they could find. I found a discarded, damaged tennis ball lying in a flower bed.

For the next exercise we were told to turn around so that we were facing out towards the park, then walk forward for as far as we could until something blocked our way, then stop and photograph anything we saw from there. Unfortunately I'd picked a spot where my route was blocked by a flower bed, so my walk consisted of about two metres. There were a couple of pretty topiaryed shrubs, and a guy squatting down to take photos nearby.

The fifth task was to photograph another photographer taking photos of another photographer. This was the best bit. Everyone was smiling, having such fun from something as simple as taking photos of other people taking photos of other people.

There was a fair amount of direct photographing; I shot a guy shooting me on an iPhone. He was squatting right down below me. He had a lavender stem in his ear.

The last task was the silliest. We had to put our left hands on the shoulder of the person in front and do the congo, moving around the circle.

The croc/dinos joined in, as did a woman dressed in a leopard outfit. There wasn't a great deal of moving around the circle, other than a small break-away group including the leopard and friends.

Once that was complete we were told to put our cameras away, turn off our iPods and head off home (or to the pub) as if nothing had happened. Which is exactly what I did. I looked at the photos on the tube on the way home, laughing at the simplicity of the event, how much fun it had been, how funny the look on onlookers' faces had been and how much I couldn't wait to get involved in another event like this. Well worth joining one if you get the chance.

One interesting observation I made was that some of the other togs really didn't feel comfortable having the camera turned on them. Some loved it (like Matt Taylor below), but with others you could tell that they were really uneasy and shied away from the glassy end of the lens. I guess some people just feel more secure hiding behind their little black machines.

For more photos, please have a look at my Facebook Page.

City Wildlife - The London Wetland Centre in Barnes

A couple of weeks ago I came across a live webcam showing a peregrine falcon pair, Tom and Charlie, and their three chicks. A small shelter was built for the birds on a ledge at the top of one of Charing Cross Hosptital's buildings in Hammersmith. Inside the shelter is a camera, and a couple of other cameras have also been installed above the ledge. I've watched as the chicks have grown enormously from little white balls of fluff (one of which I was sure wouldn't make it) to proper birds of prey. They are now 49 days old and have started to fly short distances and spend a lot of time watching the world from the parapet. It's only a matter of time before they're off out catching their own pigeons for breakfast.

This got me thinking about how much wildlife there is in London. Apart from the foxes sneaking around and the parakeets squawking loudly as they flit around, there are some beautiful parks and wildlife havens, one of which is the London Wetland Centre in Barnes.

 I've been a member since my first visit about three years ago (I didn't really know about it before, in spite of having lived in the area for over 15 years. I only manage to get there about once a year, which is a bit pathetic, considering it's only a 45 minute walk. To be fair, it only opened in 2000, but it still took me a long time to get around to my first visit).

I've only visited in the late winter, spring and early summer so far, but hope to change that this year (and make the most of the free entry I get from supporting the WWT). I visited in winter last year, when I'd just got a new camera (Canon 60D) - it is a great spot for photography, especially if you like birds (and they also run a photography competition). The variety of ducks and geese (and indeed other birdlife) is very impressive, and I always come away struggling to identify the birds that I've seen. Here's a small selection of the birds I saw last winter: a shoveller, a pochard, a pair of male mallards and a sleeping female hooded merganser.

 
As well as stunning birdlife, the centre is also just a lovely place to wander around, especially once you get away from the main areas, which can be teeming with noisy school-parties. On the north side of the centre is a quiet zone called the "Wildside", where there are various hides, as well as peaceful waterways lined with reeds.

In spite of the peace, there's always a little bit of action somewhere. On a visit in early spring last year I witnessed a strange fight occurring between a heron and a jay. The heron was trying to stand its ground while it came under attack from the shrieking jay. Eventually the jay gave up and I moved on.
 

On a recent visit a couple of weeks ago the sun was shining and there were only a few hazy clouds in the sky. The birds weren't very active as it was so warm, and some have been moved for cleaning (the pens, I assume, not the birds). There was still a huge array of wildlife to see. This is a common frog - I loved his golden eyes! Occasionally he'd let out a massive croak and a bubble would come out of his side.

Damselflies were mating everywhere, although I didn't have the right lens to get any decent shots of them - they are very strange looking when they're locked together and flying around skittishly. I did manage to capture a few of the birds there, though, and some of my favourite were a pair of male Egyptian (blue-winged) geese, locked in a strange battle of bravado (a worker told me that they were both male, otherwise I would have assumed that it was a mating ritual). They strutted around, bending their necks back and forth, fluffing up their feathers, copying each other and screeching all the while.

I could have watched them for hours; very entertaining birds. But I moved on and headed for the Wildside, where the only noise was from the endless stream of aeroplanes making their descent into Heathrow 6 miles to the west (note to self: next time I must go on a day when the planes are taking off over London, not descending). Fluffy seeds had blown across some of the small lakes and looked stunning in the afternoon light.
Lily pads lay gracefully on the surface of the still waters and even the weeds looked beautiful.

I finished off my journey with a walk on the south side to the Peacock Tower hide, where I watched some lapwings frantically pecking around, occasionally flying and swooping down erratically, letting off their distinctive "peewit" calls, before settling back to finding grubs and termites again. As I wandered back to the exit the banks of the walkways were lined with cow parsley, the last of the bluebells and dandelion seed heads.

It's a truly lovely place for a day out (on a nice day!), especially if you're a bird-watcher or a photographer.

Please have a look at my website for more photos of the London Wetland Centre.

Celebrating Champions League Win with Chelsea Fans

I've never been that into football, but living less than a mile away from Stamford Bridge it is hard to ignore the Chelsea fans that pour into the area every week or so for nine months of the year. Over the years I've watched the hoards of Smurfs (as we affectionately call them) traipsing along the road in packs, heading towards the club. Generally they are not the most prepossessing of people - usually sporting shaven heads and bright blue shirts stretched tight over their wobbly bellies (and that's just the kids!). When it's freezing cold and pissing down with rain I vaguely admire their commitment to supporting the team, as I put on the kettle and turn up the heating. But onwards they march! I rarely watch a match, but vaguely follow the team's progress and secretly hope that they win.

And this is partly because I'm a local and you have to support your local team, but mainly because of the parades. They are just so much fun to witness. Normally I open my first floor window and watch from the comfort of my own flat, taking the odd snap or two, but this time was different. Chelsea had won the Champions League for the first time ever; and in fact they are the first London team to do so. They also won the FA cup a fortnight earlier (something they do quite often), so there was quite a lot to celebrate. I even watched the whole of the match, convinced that they wouldn't win, resulting in the poor organisers having to take down the platforms and screens that they'd already set up before the match. Talk about tempting fate! It was a tense match to watch, and it was great that it went right down to the final kick of the ball. Good old Drogba!

The parade was planned for 4pm, but the crowds started to arrive much earlier. Security guards were brought down in coaches from far afield. We went out at about 1pm and chatted to a couple of them. They'd found out that they would be needed after Drogba's final goal, having to leave home at 4am - with 347 of them coming down from Leeds alone. Many more were there, lining the route along the Fulham Road, Hortensia Road and the New King's Road, from the ground to Parsons Green. Despite supporting Leeds, and certainly not Chelsea, they were in good spirits (at least it wasn't Man United, they told us). They stood at 10-20 metre intervals from each other, in roughly the same spots for about 5 or 6 hours, occasionally opening barriers to let people across the road, but otherwise with nothing to do but stand, wait and hope nothing kicked off.

People were out and about selling cup-shaped balloons, t-shirts, horns, and flags, some with dogs dressed for the occasion.

I certainly wasn't the only one out with a camera; the official press photographers were already mingling around, and a big stage was set up for the news teams. They definitely had the best views. The press photographers were allowed to wander in the streets when the rest of us were stuck behind the barriers.

We went back home for a spot of lunch and went back to the front line at about 3pm, wrapped up warm, hoping to secure a good spot and view of the parade and crowds. I took my 70-200mm lens and spent the time before the bus finally arrived snapping away at all the fans that lined the streets.

What amazed me was the variety of types of people. They were the normal architypal Smurfs (the shaven-headed, beer-gutted ones with matching sons) but so many others from different races, ages and types of backgrounds. A big happy melting pot all celebrating Chelsea's historic win.

Across the road was a group of teenage girls who sat on top of a railing, all sporting matching white polo shirts (the Ralph Lauren ones with the BIG logo), and all looking as if it had taken them about 3 hours to put on the nails, the foundation, the fake eyelashes, flatten the hair and choose which enormous handbag to take. I couldn't take my eyes off them!

News helicopters buzzed around in the skies above us. Residents came out onto balconies, roofs and stretched out of windows. People threw celery across the road at each other (apparently a tradition going back to the 1980s, although I'd never heard about it before). People threw celery at the teenage girls. Some fans began to looked a bit bored.

The bus finally arrived just after 5pm and parked about a hundred metres down the road near the press stand on Eel Brook Common; we weren't in the best place. We could still enjoy the atmosphere, though, with all the cheers and flag-waving and horns (it was quite noisy!). I could just see the team buses in the distance.

The team stayed at that spot for a while, making various speeches and cheering, in front of the thousands of fans packed onto Eel Brook Common and down Wandsworth Bridge Road. Eventually the bus set off again, towards us, and I struggled to get my camera over the arms, heads and flags of other supporters. One guy with a Brazilian flag had his arms up obscuring the view,  recording the view for his friends on three separate mobile phones.

I probably blocked the view for more people behind me as I struggled on my tiptoes, waving my camera in the bus's direction. Such is life. Eventually the bus reached us, and I was able to capture a very contented-looking Roman Abramovich sitting at the front of the bus. He even looked a little bemused, as did a few of the other team-members, most of whom I didn't recognise! The smiles never left Ashley Cole's and John Terry's faces.

Their view must have been incredible - a wash of blue (and orange security guards) winding down the New King's Road ahead of them, led by mounted policemen, everyone cheering their achievement (apart from the police and the Leeds-supporting security teams!). A second bus ferried what must have been the wives, girlfriends and other family members.

Once the buses had passed, a wall of security people and policemen came down the middle of the road towards us, with the fans packed behind them, pouring from the common. They followed the buses towards Parsons Green, where luxury buses waited to take the team away for more private celebrations.

A few guys standing near us pushed to the front in order to climb over. A woman and her small children next to us began to panic that they'd get crushed so we helped usher them away; no harm done in the end, but I don't think young Maddie had really enjoyed her day out.

We wandered back to the flat, a minute away, stopping to chat to some neighbours who leaned out of their first floor windows, watching the parade from home. It probably won't be repeated for a while - I can't imagine they'll put on another parade next year if they only win the FA cup, but who knows. The supporters will be there in their tens of thousands if they do, without a doubt.

In the evening we went out to see a friend, and the road was empty but for a few security guards taking down the barriers, and endless empty plastic bags blowing around in the wind. We walked down the middle of Wandsworth Bridge Road - probably the only time it'll be closed to traffic. In the morning everything was back to normal, the litter cleared, the roads opened as if nothing had happened.

More photos of the day can be seen on my website.