Case Study

When an old photo of my lighting kit popped up in my Facebook memories, the first thing I spotted was the bottle of wine. Of course it was. Not only did it remind me of the generosity of a particular client at the time, but it also sparked an idea to write an article about how kit has changed over time. So I took a photo of my kit today to compare and contrast.

Picture 1 was taken in 2015 and shows (apart from the wine) my portable studio flash lighting equipment of that era (in fact, this kit was already several years old by then).

Sadly the photo was already cropped square, so I can’t tell you what was in the rest of the bag; I’m guessing you’d see the second flash head, a spare battery and some other bits and pieces. I clearly took the photo for the purpose of showing off the bottle of wine I’d been given.

So, apart from the wine (shut up about the wine now, Tim), what else is different? Let’s go through some of the components in the bag, and then compare them with today’s kit in Picture 2. I’ve made these pictures BIG so you can see the labels.

At the top-left in Picture 1, you’ll see a trigger and receiver. Nothing remarkable there, except today’s receivers are built into the flash heads themselves. This saves having to Velcro a trigger to the back of the head and rely on a cable to send the firing signal to the flash. It’s a little bit tidier now.

The other disadvantage of the old system was that you could only adjust the power of the flash head by walking up to the controller pack and turning a dial. Modern units can be controlled from the camera, which saves a lot of time and back-and-forth.

This old kit was pretty revolutionary in its day. It was the first properly powerful, affordable kit that ran off batteries. It could be used outdoors and the light could be adjusted through softboxes, umbrellas or any number of other modifiers to achieve a particular look.

But technology moves on, and its main disadvantages over my current kit are power and control. The kit in Picture 2 is at least 50% more powerful than the kit it replaced. This might not seem that much, but it makes a big difference in photographic terms. The more modern design also has the advantage that each flash head is independently controllable from the other, and the increments of control are far finer than with the old kit.

The other disadvantage of the older kit was the build quality. The manufacturer, Lumedyne, is US-based and their kit looks and feels as though it’s been built by keen mechanics in a shed. Sometimes not all that well either. I remember screws dropping out, a control knob falling off and on one occasion, a loud POP! and a puff of blue smoke as an internal component blew up.

I probably had that kit for a decade though, and while it was expensive at the time, it more than paid for itself.

Thankfully, I’ve had the newer kit (made by Godox) for almost as long already, and it’s not showing any signs of ageing. I’ve added an extra spare battery as one of the originals isn’t taking a charge as well as it used to, but that’s about it.

Apart from technological advances, the other reason I switched to Godox was because Lumedyne is no longer distributed in the UK, so replacing parts or expanding the kit would be difficult.

Possibly more impressive than any of the technical advances of the contents is the case itself. Both flash kits have been safely transported inside the same LowePro Pro Roller 2 case, which must now be circa 20 years old. About a year ago, I finally replaced the wheels but apart from that this case just keeps… rolling.

The wine, sadly, is a distant memory, but good quality wine is readily available in several outlets. So next time I work with you, have a peek inside my rolling camera case while my back is turned. If there’s a wine bottle-shaped space in there, feel free to pop something nice in, like a Tempranillo or a Malbec. Some technology never really needs updating, just replenishing.

 

Who’s Afraid of False Reports?

What will you be doing this weekend? Don’t tell me, I don’t care because I’m going to be buried in Stephen Leslie’s book, just released, called Mostly False Reports.

If you don’t know Leslie’s work, I’m not talking about Virginia Woolf’s father (also a Stephen Leslie) who died, oh I dunno, quite a long time ago. No, this is London-based film director, screenwriter, and street photographer Stephen Leslie. He’s still very much alive.

I’m not a huge fan of street photography, so I’m very picky about who within that genre I follow or take note of. Leslie is one of them. Dougie Wallace and Matt Stuart also spring to mind (I realise there are no female photographers in there so if someone can point me their way I’d love to see that perspective too).

For the life of me, I can’t remember exactly how Leslie’s work showed up on my radar, probably through Instagram, but however it was, my interest in his work was cemented through his YouTube channel where he posts excellent if occasional videos focusing on photographic themes or specific photographers. His knowledge of photography, its practitioners, and history is impressive, but he rarely speaks of his own work.

What Leslie does with his images, exemplified in his latest book, is to compose made-up narratives around the photos he’s taken. The images already benefit from Leslie’s often witty, observational style, but the additional twist of his text, usually in the style of a very short story, delivers yet another layer. Not all the narratives are entirely false, so the reader is left to consider what is true and what is false.

Others will be better equipped to critique this book with more skill than I possess, but without wishing to appear arse-licky I think it’s brilliant. The photography is quirky and entertaining, even thought-provoking (as only the best street photography is). It has a high-quality feel, the design is simple and elegant and the effort and attention to detail are clear.

So you do your thing this weekend, I’m going to be curled up with this book until I’ve been through it cover-to-cover (and possibly back again).

If you’d like your own copy, you’ll have to hope it goes on general sale at some point because so far it’s only been available through the Kickstarter campaign which brought it to fruition. There’s no point asking to buy my copy, it’s not for sale! EDIT: Contact Stephen directly to order your copy. Scroll to the bottom of the page on this link for his contact form.

Have a great weekend

Carry On Lurking

Social media is a funny old place. I can post images to my Instagram account, Facebook, Threads, X… (to be honest, the list is starting to become overwhelming) and see very little activity. Likes elude me.

For the most part I ascribe this tumbleweed reaction to a couple of issues. Firstly, many people are a bit tired and bored of social media. It’s been around a while and the novelty has long worn off.

The next aspect I would describe as Like Fatigue. I’ve experienced Like Fatigue myself, and it’s when you scroll through a feed, see something you like, but don’t feel compelled to ‘Like’ it with a press of the thumbs-up, heart or whatever. It just seems like too much effort!

People are busier than ever. We all have lives to live, jobs to hold down and commitments beyond the digital sphere. Even if we have time for social media, it’s more limited than ever before. This not only follows on to my next point, but also circles back to what I alluded to in my opening line – there’s just too much choice!

Due to lack of time, not only can I not always hit every channel with every picture I take, but audiences drift between SM platforms and might not see what I’ve posted (boohoo me, I know).

Then there’s the dead hand of the algorithm. I’ve lost count of the people I’ve lost track of because the algorithm no longer serves up their posts in my feed. Sometimes I’ll suddenly remember someone whose work I used to like and I have to go and search them out to see if they’ve posted anything I’ve missed. I’m sure I have followers who’ve had a similar experience of losing track of me due to algorithm constipation.

But there is one group who have always existed; the Lurkers. Right from the very start of my Social Media dealings I’ve known there were people who saw my posts, enjoyed them, but never Liked or commented on them. I would be oblivious that they’d seen them at all. Then one day I’ll be on a corporate job, or shooting some PR event, and someone will come to me to tell me in person how much they enjoy my personal project work. Indeed I’ve even had bookings as a result of what someone has seen!

I also suspect some clients book me because my Social Media postings of my personal work have helped to keep me in their minds when it came to booking a photographer.

Bear in mind, the work I post on social media has little in common with my client work, but it clearly has the effect of engaging clients and reminding them that I exist. I’m also convinced it shows people a different side to my work, and they enjoy that.

This last point is a small, subtle, but significant one to me. Shooting personal work can often feel isolating and even pointless. It can also feel self-indulgent to go off and spend time on what might be called non-business work, but because it acts as a soft marketing tool, it’s a mistake to assume it has little value.

While it’s lovely to see a post get Likes and attention from followers, it’s too easy to dismiss my lurkers. So I want to thank them and let them know I appreciate them. I understand there may be many reasons they don’t tap the heart icon, or give my work the thumbs-up, but that’s ok.

My lurkers probably outnumber my active followers, but in my (non-scientific) reckoning they’re also more likely to be clients, or they’re more likely to recommend me to new clients. So I’m absolutely not going to complain about their apparent passivity.

Lurkers, I thank you and you are welcome to lurk all you like. I know you’re there and that’s all that really matters. So as Kenneth Williams never said, “Carry On Lurking!”

Mind Your Language

It is often said photography is a language which communicates across multiple cultures. Well this is true, to a point, but like all languages it can also be misunderstood.

Like any language, photography can be used badly, in the wrong context or just carelessly. In fact one thing we were taught during news photography training (in my case, back in 1992!) was that context is incredibly important. A photo which is perfectly innocent in one context can be offensive, even libellous in another. It’s often down to the words accompanying a picture, but it could include the wider context too – what other pictures are placed alongside it, a headline or even the publication in which a picture appears.

But back to photography as a language…

This Summer I’ve been on a bit of a whistle-stop tour. I was in Co Durham to spend time with my brother and sister-in-law, then off to Austria to for a few days with my sister, and after a week back home I was off again, this time to Brittany for a ‘proper’ holiday with my wife.

In each case I took a film camera with me, and in each case I responded differently to my surroundings. With Brittany I took the decision to keep the photography much more casual, otherwise I would have had no real holiday at all. Ok, I did take a small film camera, but I haven’t processed the films yet and I was pretty pleased with some of the iPhone photos I shot there.

Actually, I also only had a small film camera with me in Austria too, but I put more effort into finding pictures which interested me beyond just the snap. For Co Durham I had a ‘proper’ camera; a Mamiya 6 medium format film camera.

Beyond all this blah blah about film cameras vs iPhones, what’s interesting is how each location had a different effect.

For Co Durham I’d made the decision I was going to visit a couple of areas which were documented by Mark Power in his excellent book The Shipping Forecast (buy it if you have any interest in what photography CAN be). So I spent a very wet day visiting Seaham, Easington Colliery and (in addition to Mark’s locations for sea area Tyne), Peterlee.

I came away with pictures which say something about those areas – I’m always more interested in making photos which describe how a place feels rather than just how it looks.

The ‘problem’ with taking pictures in places like Innsbruck, Austria, or around Côte Sauvage, Brittany, is they’re just very beautiful places. You really have to work (and walk) to get to where the shine is not so shiny. For Brittany this just wasn’t going to happen anyway, but I still see a reaction to my surroundings in the photos I took. There was still some kind of essence of Brittany in my shots, but you can see that as my travels progressed from Co Durham to Austria to Brittany, my approach changed. Frankly, in Austria I failed to get anything other than fairly typical tourist shots, but I did try!

I’m just going to share a handful of images with you, and perhaps you’ll see better what I mean about the different reactions to each location. After all, if photography is a language, it’s probably best if I let it speak for itself.

 

I’m Still Alive!

Gosh, I have been a bit slack – I haven’t posted here since King Charles III came to the throne! Well sometimes life just runs away from you, then you get out of the habit. Before you know it, well here we are…

What started this un-planned hiatus was a thing called Photo|Frome (see photofrome.org if you haven’t heard of it). Being in charge of outdoor exhibitions meant I had no time in the run-up to the launch on June 24th to write anything anywhere.

To be fair, the result of all the hard work stunned even cynical ol’ me. Here’s a bit of a tale about it all.

Working closely with Italian photographic collective T House (Hugo Weber, Alex Zoboli and Angelo Leonardo), we achieved a first for Frome. We took over an entire outside wall of Frome Library and covered it in vinyl prints from our various projects (one project from each of us). The photos below barely do it justice, but you get a better idea of what I’m talking about.

While T House specialise in outdoor exhibitions of photographic works, they tend to work using large paper-based posters applied directly to walls. In the case of Frome Library we had to work differently due to the uneven surface we were dealing with. We needed to use vinyl prints mounted on timber frames screwed to the building wall. This was not going to be easypeasy!

Famous artists have minions install their work for them; in our case this was definitely a DIY affair.

T House organised the artwork and printing of the vinyls, while from my end I organised liaison with the library manager, measuring the building, ordering the timber, fixings, scissor lift and general logistics (none of which I’d ever done before, so somewhat daunting). To be fair, T House had the tougher job in curating the work and dealing with me and my constant doubts about what we could/couldn’t do.

Installation took two of the hottest days of the year to complete, but the effect was powerful. I was worried locals and visitors wouldn’t ‘get it’ or like it, or have any reaction at all, but there was a full spectrum of reactions – none of which involved just ignoring the work, so that was a major achievement. The giant portrait of Monika was a particularly popular selfie spot.

As if that wasn’t enough, I also commandeered some 60 metres of perimeter hoardings at Saxonvale in Frome. This is a place many of you will know that I documented between 2017 and 2019 (which became the book What Happened Here). It was the perfect place to show our combined projects, continuations of the images we installed at the library.

The only slight concern was that this part of our exhibition was being undertaken without permission of the landowner, Somerset Council. However I calculated that it would take longer than the three week run of the festival for anyone to raise a complaint and anything to come from that. I was correct, and in fact nobody complained. We even gave Somerset Council a name-check on the information panel, so it looked official (sneaky!)

T House set about curating the images for this second mammoth installation. This time working with 2 metre by 1.4 metre poster paper sheets, they stapled images from each of our projects as far along the hoardings as we could go before running out of posters.

It took another two, hot days to get this work up, but removal commenced a bit sooner than we’d anticipated as our installation antagonised some of the local graffiti artists by covering their art. Less than 12 hours after the posters went up, they were sprayed, tagged and torn. But that was ok, it meant the work got far more exposure than we could have hoped for, and the ‘intervention’ became part of the narrative of the installation. None of this was planned, but it was all good. Some visitors were even taking fragments of poster away with them as keepsakes!

 

Three weeks after all this effort, and it was time to un-install everything. To be fair, the graffiti artists and the weather did most of the work for us at Saxonvale, but the library show needed to come down in a more controlled manner.

This time I didn’t have a team of three highly-caffeinated Italians, but my son Joe stepped in and we got the lot down safely in one long (sometimes excessively wet) day.

It would be easy to question the value of all this effort, but I know that what we did had a huge impact locally. It was also a big hit with the many thousands of national and international visitors to the Photo|Frome festival. On a personal level I now have three very special Italian friends whose enthusiasm, professionalism and the sheer exchange of ideas has helped me enormously. I’m very much looking forward to working with T House again.

So having not posted for a few weeks, this one has turned into something of a marathon essay. I haven’t even touched on the wider Photo|Frome festival (which really was a very special thing), or my involvement in the various aspects of it. Nor have I mentioned any of the client work which of course carried on over that period.

To say I was a little burned out after all that would be an understatement, but I’m now looking forward to a period of breaks and holiday time in the coming weeks. That will mean another interruption to my blogging, but I’m hoping to get more regular again in September.

For now, have yourself a splendid Summer and I’ll see you again soon!

Bye Bye 2022

What. A. Year!

It’s fair to say 2022 has been a bastard. I don’t even want to list the reasons here because it’s too depressing, we all know what I mean.

So perhaps it’s unsurprising if I feel a little guilty that I’m sitting here in a (relatively) warm home, with food in the cupboards while I look back on what has been an unexpectedly successful year for me. But feeling guilty isn’t constructive, so I need to do more in 2023 to give and give back where it can help others. I did some of this in 2022 and hope to do more 2023.

2022’s Achievements (and disappointments)

Before writing this, I checked what goals I’d set for 2022 to see if I’d achieved any of them. It turns out, I didn’t set much in the way of targets, but there was a vague hint in that post about something big.

That ‘something big’ was getting my book What Happened Here designed and launched in time for Photo|Frome in June, which I just about managed. Sadly, for the official launch I caught covid and had to bail out, which didn’t help initial sales of the book. However, it’s been going steadily ever since and even my local bookshop were keen to stock it! So now people can buy online from me, or walk into Winstone’s Hunting Raven in Frome and purchase a softcover copy in-person.

Photo|Frome 2023

Photo|Frome 2022 was a huge success, and while I did what I could to help with setting up, not long after launch I was under quarantine so missed most of the festival. We’re already working hard to make Photo|Frome 2023 happen, but finding cash for an event in the teeth of a recession will be no small task. If you’re able to help, do drop me a line!

What Else in 2023

My hope is that having diversified into video during lockdown, this recession might not hit me as hard as previous ones have. Businesses actively wanting to ride out the storm will need a combination of stills and video for their marketing. Being able to offer both is a huge advantage. Of course I can’t predict how much it’ll help, but I’m glad I have the additional skill now.

And Finally…

I’m going to leave you with a smattering of 2022 images, all from personal projects and trips made this year. They illustrate my key photographic interests when not on commission.

It just remains for me to wish you all a super Christmas and all the very best for the coming year. Let’s hope that in 2023 Putin is deposed, the Iranian government is replaced by people who understand civility and China stops acting like a petulant toddler.

Oh and thank you, in what ever way you’ve supported me over the past 12 months. It doesn’t go unnoticed!

We’re Not “Post-Covid” yet

Looking at when I last posted here, it seems I’ve let things slip a bit. I hope you’ve missed me.

My excuse is I’ve been busy with work, a book, a photo festival and covid finally got me. Then I got over covid, and work came back with a vengeance.

Ok, a bit more detail to explain all this.

Since December 2021 I’ve been working on my first photo book, What Happened Here (the book of the Saxonvale project I shot between 2017 and 2019). I started work on the book when I agreed to be part of Photo|Frome. I was invited to be part of an exhibition and to present a talk on What Happened Here, which meant I really needed to have the book in place for the festival.

Putting a book together isn’t easy if you want it to be the best it can be, and never having done a book before made this an even more challenging kind of challenge. However, I worked with designer Victoria Yates for the book layout and colours, and graphic designer Nik Jones who produced a map to help tell the story.

Then as Photo|Frome approached I got involved with planning my talk as well as another event I was to be involved with, a conversation with documentary and portrait photographer John Angerson. All this while work continued to roll in.

But just as the festival got underway, John caught covid and had to pull out of his talk. Then I got covid and had to cancel mine. It was all a bit of a mess really, and deeply disappointing.

 

What I haven’t been disappointed by is the success of photo|frome. Although I wasn’t one of the main organisers, I did jump in to help and support as much as I could (cut short only by my testing positive for Covid for 10 days). The festival was testament to the need for high-quality talks and exhibitions around photography, and there’s little outside London that caters to such a broad range of people as Frome’s festival did. The plan is to make it even bigger next year and they’ve already got national and international photographers lined up.

Equally encouraging has been the reception my book has received. I had people reserving copies before it was even printed. I expected to sell the majority of the books at my talk, but sales have been steady even without that. And because the book is very limited edition (just 50 hardback copies and 100 softcover versions), there’s a risk that by the time I come to reschedule the talk, the books might already be sold out.

So there you have it. I think it’s fair to say I’ve been a bit preoccupied lately and that’s not going to change drastically in the next few weeks at least.

I have my talk to reschedule, client work to handle and I’m also painfully aware just how neglected my current personal project on Salisbury Plain has been. I need to get back to that before it keels over completely.

In the meantime, if you’d like to support my personal work, and be the proud owner of a very limited edition photo book, head over here to purchase your copy of What Happened Here. Every copy I sell justifies all the stress and hard work just that little bit more.

Thank you,

Tim

Hacked Off

Is Putin’s War the Cause?

It’s possible I’m turning into a conspiracy theorist, but having had my website hacked twice in two weeks, each time within hours of tweeting something derogatory about Putin and his invasion of Ukraine, I have had to wonder if there wasn’t a connection.

Even if it’s un-related, it’s been a complete pain in the !@*^# to sort out. It has disrupted my schedule and soaked up my time; I’ve had to postpone blogging for two weeks, I’ve postponed much-needed updates to my website, I’ve been trying to compose the text for my book What Happened Here as well as handle client enquiries and prepare for up-coming work. All this has been disrupted while I tackled the situation.

All that might sound trivial, and of course compared with the horrors being inflicted on Ukrainians by Putin’s invasion, it is indeed piffling. But if these hacks do have tentacles reaching back to The Kremlin, that would make them part of Putin’s war effort. Ok, perhaps that’s going too far. If it’s a theory with any legs at all, it could simply be part of a mass, un-targeted attack on any IT vulnerabilities the hackers can find, regardless of their importance.

Impact on the Sole Trader

The impact of these hacks is also greatest on those of us who operate as sole traders and freelancers because we don’t have large resources to fight back. Even with outside help, we’re having to be there liaising and dealing with the situation. We can’t just hand the problem off and go and do other tasks. If you’re a sole trader handling sensitive customer information through your website, it could be crippling.

Thankfully I did manage to get some help from my wonderful web design colleague Ben who finally got everything back to normal. I have now beefed up the security to a level which should keep the hackers out. Only time will tell.

And Just… WHY?!

Dismissing my earlier, possibly paranoid theories, it still begs the question of why my site. I haven’t the foggiest idea what the hackers wanted to achieve. There were malicious files found (now deleted), but there is no client database to compromise, no e-commerce aspect to the site. Presumably it was “just because we can” hackers.

Hacking is big now. It affects everyone. From personal Facebook accounts to huge corporate databases, everyone now has to spend more time battling hackers. We could be approaching a time when we’re spending more time using technology to sort out problems caused by technology (or more accurately, the misuse of technology) than we are using technology to assist our lives and livelihoods. Technology could be on the way to becoming a zero sum game.

Chain Reaction

Now I know this next conspiracy theory is straying into tin foil hat territory, but last weekend I was on a bike ride with my best friend. He commented that his blue and yellow bike was in the colours of Ukraine. Twenty minutes later, his rear gear mechanism packed up and his pedals would only free-spin. He couldn’t pedal anywhere and had to call his wife to come and pick him up. Coincidence? Or conspiracy? You decide!

What Happens Next?

Happy New Year! I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas. By the way, do you also suffer the anxiety of not quite knowing when to cease starting emails and texts with that line? It’s ok, you’re not alone! I’ll stop around Jan 20th, if that’s any help.

At the end of last year I promised a look back at 2021 and a look forward to 2022, so here goes. I won’t dwell too much on last year because my final post of 2021 summed up most of what I wanted to say. However, as I wrote that article, I didn’t know how soon I’d be back on the subject of covering vaccines.

More Vaccine Work!

On December 22nd, at a time of the morning I prefer not to know exists, I was up and on my way to Stonehenge. This time I was covering a pop-up vaccination clinic at Stonehenge, again for NHS Banes, Swindon and Wiltshire CCG (BSWCCG). The plan was to invite Solstice visitors to have vaccines once they’d celebrated the sunrise over the stones.

It was a cold morning, but the sky looked spectacular as I came across Salisbury Plain and the visitors were treated to a beautiful sunrise. Of course I missed it because I was busy setting up alongside the clinical team who had commandeered the visitor centre cafe for their work.

The session went incredibly well and by the time I left Stonehenge, my client had a rush set of images for immediate press release.

The shot shown above got really great take-up by local press and on social media. Even my humble tweet got over 4,300 impressions! Not bad considering we didn’t even know if anyone would take up the jab on the day.

Except for shooting a quick wedding for friends who got married on December 28th, that was pretty much it for me!

So how is 2022 looking?

More Of The Same, But Different

Well I’ve already got bookings in the diary; a mixture of stills and video work, and I’m looking to plan more trips to Salisbury Plain soon. I didn’t get much time over Christmas and New Year to do any end-of-year tidying-up, so that’s sort of happening now. I did get time to start on an exciting new project, but more on that when the time is right. Exciting eh?!

My main focus as we enter 2022 is to keep developing the corporate work, while building the Salisbury Plain project into something more cohesive and rounded. That might sound a little vague, but I hope it will become clearer as the year progresses.

In the meantime, this shot from November was a good way to end 2021’s Salisbury Plain sessions. I’m keen to get back, but with a long-term project, patience is everything. I need to update the project gallery with some of the latest work as I try to make the personal projects as self-sufficient as possible. So don’t forget, if you like what I do and would like to see more, please feel free to support me in whichever way you can! None of this happens without my amazing supporters 🙂

And finally, whatever your plans for the coming year, I hope they come good for you. Here’s to an exciting 2022!

 

 

 

From the Archive: The Musicians

This week I’m going to talk about a collection of pictures which are relatively recent, but which seem much older. To be honest, anything from 2020 now feels like a different era.

Rachel and Silas

One, a portrait of Rachel Byrt, is already in my Business Portraits portfolio. While the other, featuring Silas Wollston, hasn’t made it in yet, but I think it needs to because it’s a strong image. There are in fact a few potential candidates in the set.

Viola player Rachel and harpsichordist and organist Silas visited my home back in August 2020. It was part social/part portrait session, so for the portraits we made space in our kitchen/dining room for a mini studio. As ever through 2020, the prevailing Covid restrictions were observed.

Working Smart

Being such a tight space, I had to be creative with just a single studio light and a black backdrop which I used as a flag to control the lighting. Our bright yellow feature wall took up backdrop duty. This worked very well for both the colour and black and white photos.

Each portrait required a slightly different setup, but for an impromptu music session I took the studio gear away and captured some action using my medium format film camera.

Because Rachel and Silas are busy professionals, it was important to ensure they had a decent choice of pictures for different areas of their work. Also, without knowing where pictures will be used it was important to have a variety of upright and landscape oriented images. Both Rachel and Silas have their own picture galleries from which they can download what they need, when they need it.

Ready for the Comeback

I would love to do more musician profile work, but of course it’s been a tough time in the creative arts. Fingers crossed 2022 will be the year when live music really gets going again. When it does, I’ll certainly be happy to do my bit whenever it happens.