The Pleasures and Perils of Press Photography.

New Zealand Graphic, 6 April 1907, Page 37

The Pleasures and Perils of Press Photography.

I am a Press photographer. What docs that convey to you? Well, I am a man with a camera who has to go here, there, and everywhere to supply the picture papers with photographs of everything of importance that takes place. Recently 1 had orders from one of my editors to go up in a balloon and take snap-shots of a new airship. I am a nervous man, but I had to go. The other day I spent in the depths of a Durham coal-mine, taking pictures by flashlight; next week 1 may probably be sent to America. I go off at a minute's notice, travel at express speed, and do my work at high pressure. The anxiety is tremendous. A little while ago I was sent off to the Isle of Man to get snap-shots of the motor races. 1 had strict injunctions to get on the course, photograph the ears in full flight, develop my plates, and have them in the newspaper office at least six hours before any other paper could get them. That is the sort of unreasonable instructions you get from an editor. OH' I went, and spent farce miserable days in Manxland during the preliminary trials. The weather was so dark, wet, stormy, foggy, and overcast I could get nothing. A MOTOR-RACE MISHAP. On the morrow every Press photographer in the kingdom would be on the course, and the following day their results would appear in all the morning papers. What was I to do? I went to a local photographer who had taken the ears at their trials the day before I arrived. I bought his entire stock, and sent the best off to my newspaper, and they appeared before the other Press photographers reached the course. At the recent trials at Blackpool tho police were very strict, and would allow no one on the course. I saw half a dozen photographers perched up on a wall. That wasn't good enough for me. I meant to get better pictures than could be got from that poor altitude. How did I manage it? I equipped myself in a smart motor kit with a long white coat, and addressed the constable ns “officer” as I stood and chatted with him about the weather and other trifling

matters. Everybody thought I was “ judge or a eommittec-man—except the other photographers when they saw the papers the next morniug containing my results. The police hinder one dreadfully, and have Io Is- most skilfully bluffed. I once had to snapshot a prominent M.P. on his way to the House. The constable would not hoar of it, and ordered me off. POLICE AND PUBLIC. I had expected opposition and anti eipnted it. I took a confrere. He carried the camera beneath his overcoat and—presumably—didn't want to do anything but yawn up at Big Ben. As soon as 1 saw my M.P. approaching, I began arguing and remonstrating, re minding the police-officer that this was a fiee country. Meanwhile, my confrere had "snapped” the Parliamentary celebrity, and 1 departed, of course, very much aggrieved at the punctiliousness of the police force. Sometimes a. policeman does you a good turn, quite unintentionally. When I went down to the Salisbury railway disaster I was peremptorily refused admitt anee across the rails. I meant to get in somehow, so I walked down the line for about a mile and a half. Here I actuallv came upon the milk van

which, you will remember, the boat express ran into. Nobody else had photographed it. so 1 got an exclusive picture, what we call a “scoop.” 1 tell you, one has to be full of resource. It's no good to tell your editor you can't get a picture. You must get what you’re sent out for. There’s a space left in the newspaper for your photograph, and you’ve got to fill it I was over in Madrid for the Royal Wedding. 1 had only twelve plates with me on the morning of the leremony, ami had just used the fast of these when the bomb was thrown. Here was a dilemma. To come away ■without a pictorial record of the terrible mishap was out of the question I was only a few hundred yards away from the scene of the outrage. 1 rushed up, thinking of all I had missed. Turning, I saw a meek looking Spaniard with a camera. I borrowed it by main force, explained as best I eotild my reasons for doing so, at the same time operating the camera, and taking as many pictures as possible in the few moments of panic. It happened that the camera was good, and the Spaniard reasonable, otherwise I might have been aded to the number of the victims of anarchy. These pictures appeared in several London papers a few days later. DUEL DANGERS. One of the most difficult jobs I ever had to tackle was to photograph a Parisian duel. The scene of the duel I refer to was guarded on all sides. I entered a house adjacent to the square wherein the sanguinary conflict was to take [mice. Climbing over two roofs at imminent peril of my life, I reached a huge drainpipe, a kind of perpendicular sewer. On to this I clambered, and dropped down to -within a few feet of the combatants. Here I “snapped” them in several vengeful attitudes. I remember a rather funny incident that occurred when I was out at Monae» at the motor boat races. We wanted to get some good pictures of the beats coming “head on,” so we stationed one young photographer on a floating buoy. That evening, alter the races were over, we were all bustling about to catch the train back to Paris. Suddenly someone said: "Why, where’s Jones?” “By Jove!” said his chief, “ 1 declare I had forgotten all about him. He is still on the buoy!” He bad been sitting there for about -ix hours. HARD ON THE NOVICE. The hundreds of queer incidents one goes through would III! a book. The “green" photographer is a source of endless fun. Once there was a young chap, evidently quite new to the game, who came down to Ascot to get snapshots of celebrities. I don’t know where lie had been brought up, for lie didn’t even know Lord Rosebery by sight. As soon ns we found this out we would pick out a common place looking individual, and say: “Why, there’s the Duke of Portland or Westminster.” Out would cpmo the youth’s camera, and the “Juke” would lie snapped.” In this manner we introduced him to all the celebrities in the kingdom. What they said at his office we did not learn, but he seems to l>e doing so(n>ctJi4ng else now.—From “Answers.”