Going, going, gone ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Dad's old local will shut its doors forever on Friday. And the shopping mall in which I had my photographic studio has just issued eviction notices to every one of its tenants. I know nothing stays the same - and I understand the 'sensible' economic reasoning behind the decisions - but it was a shock for me to realise these places will soon be gone forever ..

The Bridgewater Hotel in Eccles was - I think - the first pub in which I ever had a drink. I know my Dad weaned me onto Guinness there (with the help of a little blackcurrant juice), and he was a big part of the darts team and a larger-than-life character known by many. When I called in at the end of November there were four people drinking there on what would have once been a busy Sunday afternoon. Very sad ..

The shopping mall will shut at the end of this month. I had my studio there for three years. The occupants, who have run successful shops and cafés for as many as twenty-seven years, will have to be out within 28 days. They each received an e-mail telling them the owner's plans and are, as you can imagine, still in shock ..

The Grammar school I went to has been a housing estate for years. The church in which I was confirmed was bulldozed to the ground late last year and the shopping centre in Eccles is about to bite the dust in a 're-development', too. Life goes on, as they say. Things can't stay the same forever. Hurrah for progress ..

What a shame ..

Moments in time ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was our friend Hélène's funeral yesterday, a very sad day of course, but one that also brought a smile to my face as we all watched a short 'film' of her life in photographs; Hélène as sweet, smiling little girl in communion dress, Hélène as sexy 60s teenager in fashionable hair-do and mini-skirt, Hélène as modern mum on holiday .. it was a fascinating glimpse into a life which, to my shame, I'd never considered. I've only ever know our dear friend as (apologies, Hélène) an old lady, and it was almost a shock to be shown that - yes - she had actually lived a full and rewarding life and leaves behind generations of family and so many, many friends who will miss her immensely ..

My new portrait books are, naturally, never far from my mind at the moment, and I show you two photographs from them today because these young girls will probably be as old as I am now, with whole life stories and possibly children and grandchildren of their own. It's all so fleeting, isn't it? I just hope their lives have been as successful as that of our friend. Rest in peace, Hélène ..   

Gone ..

 

 

 

 

 

This week I have been asked, once again, to supply a photograph for a funeral. A lovely friend from the village has died and, as I'd previously shot a portrait of her in my old studio, the family have come to me for a print. That's the third time it's happened in such a short space of time, and I'm sorry to be so maudlin but it makes me very sentimental sometimes to think of my photography as a record of the past. Of things gone, of people no longer here. It is literally the driving force behind the production of my two new portrait books .. Remember Me! 

 I feature here three young lads from my archive, all of whom left this life far too soon. May they rest in peace .. 

Portraits from a time ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm delighted to announce the launch of my new books, two self-published collections of portrait photographs dating from the mid 1970s to the early 1980s. Entitled '69 Portraits' and '77 More ..', the books offer a total of 146 portraits taken in and around my home town of Eccles, in Greater Manchester, during a time in which, according to my friend Janet, having your photograph taken was "pretty much a novelty and a delight" ..

Every subject in the books looks directly at the camera. Many of them are gone now, everyone else long into adulthood, but they all seem to be saying "Remember me" as they stare into my lens. The intimacy of the eye-to-eye contact makes a connection with each and every person featured, and I'm only glad I was there to take these photographs during that more innocent time ..

    

Gizza show ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't want to be sniffy about this, but there was a story in The Times last week about a woman who's currently having an exhibition at London's National Portrait Gallery. Turns out no-one had ever heard of her. Who was she? Where had she come from? And how on earth had she managed to snag herself a prestigious solo exhibition at such an esteemed establishment? Turns out she's part of the "Law Family Charitable foundation, which donated an undisclosed sum towards the gallery’s £40 million refurbishment." Aha!..

Now, there's nothing wrong with the pictures -  from what I've seen some of them are quite good - but they're nothing that you wouldn't see every week in a glossy 'celeb' magazine, and I find it a bit unfair (Well I would, wouldn't I?) that she gets such a fantastic show and the rest of us Oi Polloi never get a look in. As I launch the latest of my self-published books - two collections of portraits (One hundred and forty-six in all) - I send a message to the NPG. I have about four pounds twenty-seven in my bank account, and I'd gladly give you the lot if you'll just put some of my pictures up on your wall ..   

One hundred and forty-six ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An update on my forthcoming portrait photography books. (Yawn yawn, shuffle shuffle) ..

They say less is more, but I've completely ignored that advice and crammed some extra photographs into my two editions. '61 Portraits' has now become '69', and '75 MORE ..' has grown to '77'. That's one hundred and forty-six photographs in which every single subject is looking straight at the camera. It really is quite an intimate experience to share 'eye-to-eye' contact with so many people, lots of them now grown adults, lots having passed away. I feel, in a way - and without wanting to sound too cringey - that I'm honouring their lives with these little books ..

  

Trump ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Strap yourselves in, folks. It's the first day of criminal Trump's presidency, and he's hit the ground running with a swathe of signed orders, having already left the World Health Organisation and the Paris Climate Agreement. Did this guy not see the news from Los Angeles? I despair ..

It takes two to tango ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just like buses, you wait for one book of portrait photographs to come along, then two arrive at the same time. I've just finished creating '75 more ..', another collection of my 1970s/80s portrait photography and the follow-on to '61 portraits'. (What can I say? I was on a roll. It was just so much fun designing yet another photo-book, and I'm just waiting to check the proof-copies before I can make them available to the world) ..

The photographs take you right back to an era that's long gone, and I feel there's a real connection to the people in the pictures because every single one of them is looking straight into the camera. "Remember me," they seem to be saying. "Fifty years from now, remember that I was here." We seem to have worked together, my subjects and I, to create just that memory.

 

 

Hurrah for Winter ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

I always designate the winter months as my 'project time'. When the weather's too bad to get into the garden, what could be better than writing a new book or designing a new publication of photographs? So I'm pleased to say I've now started on the fourth of my adult fiction books and have just finished book number NINE of my self-published photography collection. 61 Portraits is a collection of .. hey, you're ahead of me .. but it amazes me to find I still have enough photographs on file to do another book after this one. I know you're itching to buy the new addition, so stay tuned and I'll let you know when it's available .. 

Happy New Year!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There's a tree I pass on my walks and cycle rides, a big old oak I call Gabriel (See what I did there?) It's leafless at the moment, of course, but its rough, gnarled trunk stands solid as ever against the cold and the wind and the weather. How many New Year's days has this proud fellow seen, I wonder. A hundred? Two hundred? And how many more has it got?

One can't help but reflect at this time of year, and it's not escaped my notice that I'll turn 65 in 2025 - an old-aged pensioner before they shifted the retirement age. Time is a'tickin', as they say, and I wonder how many New Year's days I will see before the man with the axe comes to get me? How many .. holy shit! Let's make a New Year's resolution!! Less of the schmaltzy sentimentality, O'Neill. Go get a drink. Happy New Year, everybody. I really do hope it's a good one for you ..

My latest post ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

A shot from my book of portrait photographs, coming out in the New Year. It was taken in the late 80s/early 90s, when I used to do an awful lot of PR photography for the Royal Mail. Back in the day, there was enough money in the company coffers to produce a monthly newspaper called The Courier, with offices in the centre of Manchester and distribution to everyone who worked for the Post Office. Now, the PO is in deep trouble, having been sold off to a foreign billionaire and with branch closures threatened all over the UK. (Sadly, there's talk of shutting down the main Post Office in Eccles .. a branch that opened in 1932!)

But hey, speaking of foreign takeovers, does that mean your post will now be in the Czech?? (Badum, tish!!)

Cancelled ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After seven years of retirement, I've grown used to a life without clients - worrying about getting their bookings, getting my name 'out' to them, doing a good job for them and trying to ensure I got further work from the little darlings. Last night I dipped my toe back into that world again, after agreeing to photograph the new members of a village council. And what happened? The job got cancelled .. a mere ten minutes before I was due to leave the house! Oh, how it took me back to all the fun and games of 'working for a living' ..

Anyway, unashamed plug time. Rob Bremner, a well-respected documentary photographer, has got his sticky mitts on my Café Royal book and felt moved to say he thought it was "up there with the best Café have done". Thanks so much for that, Rob. Really appreciated. (I still have a few available - signed - for just £10 in the UK if you're interested!)..

Another of my favourite Christmas photographs for you today. Taken at least forty years ago. I mean, where would you see a waitress now with a fag in her gob? I love the lady approaching from the right. Looks like she's ready to give her a right b*llocking. I wonder if her job got cancelled ..

Keep on walking ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I did something this week that I've never done before in my life .. I gave a public reading from one of my books. I stood in front of an audience and read from 'Page 99, by Joe Bancroft' .. and it felt great! It was so enjoyable to be able to use accents and give accentuation to words I hope people might focus on when they read the book. Anyway, no-one walked out and I ended up reading for an hour longer than I'd proposed to, so that was alright, wasn't it?..

Speaking of walking, today's photograph must be at least 40 years old, but I'm buggered if I can find the negative. Instead, I scanned an old print - a proper 10x8 inch resin-coated black and white photograph - and tidied it up in Photoshop. Looks alright, although the thought did occur to me that 'Jake the Peg' was a Rolf Harris character, so I'm sure someone in this touchy-feely world of ours will now take exception. Well, it's my blog so you haven't got a leg to stand on .. (Groan!)

 

 

Sh*t ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 A photograph by William Eggleston has just sold at auction in New York for $1.44m. I mean, I like old Billy's work a lot, but .. a million and a half for ONE photograph?? And this just days after a banana that had been stuck to a wall sold for over six million dollars. (And you don't even get the original banana for that price!) What a load of sh*t the art world is .. 

Although, I do have some lovely prints and photo-books available if anyone wants to put a bid in. Prices start at ten quid and .. erm, end there, too!

 

Copy that ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

As a kid, I dreamt of becoming a press photographer. All that exotic foreign travel, all that shoulder-rubbing with the rich and famous. In reality, most of my time was spent taking photographs like this .. the mundane, run-of-the-mill, bread and butter shots that filled a local weekly newspaper. (Faces sell 'papers, as they used to say. I talk about it in my fictional novel Page 99, by Joe Bancroft) ..

I recently unearthed an archive of this 'ordinary' press photography and plan to produce a collection of it to add to my stable of self-published books. (Actually, Faces sell 'papers isn't a bad title, come to think of it!) Anyway, my dream came true (obviously) and it's incredible to think but, back in November 1978, I'd just completed my first ever month as a professional photographer. A mere forty-six years ago, for goodness sake. At least photo-copiers have got smaller ..

Bah, humbug ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

The festive season steams in earlier and earlier and I think it's three weeks already since I heard Wham's 'Last Christmas' on the radio. When we moved to France we were rather pleased to see that the shops and supermarkets didn't go as crazy on the commercialism as the UK, but I'm afraid that's all changed now. Our local Intermarché, for example, has had a decorated toy 'grotto' open for business since the start of November. Still, the 'season of goodwill' was always good for me as a freelance photographer, what with all the parties and promotions like the shot I'm showing you today. Back in the day, I used to do a lot of work for Royal Mail, and a regular PR shoot was the arrival of that year's Christmas stamps. (I'm guessing this picture was taken in the early 90s, with pantomime characters out on Manchester's Market Street to plug the launch.) Now, things are so bad that I'm not sure anyone can actually afford to buy a stamp. In fact, I've heard the main Post Office in my home town of Eccles is likely to be shut down to save money. Talk about 'Bah, humbug' ..

Me, me, Moorea ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have a relative - a second cousin, I think (never met her!) - who is currently travelling in India and Nepal. I know this because she puts about sixty photographs a day on Instagram. (Me in a bar, me at the Taj Mahal, me in a tuk-tuk .. etc., etc., etc .. ) Now, I've no qualms with this and think it's lovely that she can relay the story of her trip to friends and family back home. It just reminds me of the time I did a round-the-world trip in 1991. Back then there were no mobile 'phones, no internet, no nothing! I shot all my photographs on Kodachrome 64 transparency film and posted the rolls home so that my Dad could forward them on for processing at Kodak's Hemel Hempstead labs. I didn't see a single one of my shots for six months. Now I know that's hardly Amundsen and the Antarctic, but it does show you how far things have come in such a short period of time, doesn't it? 

Ps: Since you ask, this is me on the island of Moorea, scene of one of my favourite films of all time. The bay on the left was deemed to be more photogenic and therefore used instead of Tahiti in The Bounty, with Anthony Hopkins. It looked so beautiful on screen that I just had to go and see it in 'real life'. I wasn't disappointed ..

Pardon?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A picture I recently posted with reference to tinnitus struck a nerve with a number of people who saw it. Seems there are quite a few of you who suffer as I do, and I'm very sorry to hear it. (No pun intended!) We really weren't warned so much in the way that kids are nowadays about the dangers of loud noise, and I for one used to love getting my head as close as possible to the PA systems at the gigs I went to. Here's a shot from Manchester Apollo just to highlight my stupidity. I wonder if the people in the picture have got squeaky ears ..

I've sold a book ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ah, the power of advertising! Like any budding self-publisher, I'm a stickler for monitoring my book sales on Amazon and, finally, as we approach the end of October, there's been movement on my 'sales report' page. I've sold a book! Yay! ..

Following on from an Instagram post I made last week, one wonderful person took it upon themselves to rush out and order my new photo-book 'Riding the Dirty Dog'. It's a collection of photographs, all shot on Kodachrome, from a Greyhound bus ride I made in 1985 (Twenty-five cities in a week!), and takes to eight the number of photo-books I've produced. Thank you, dear buyer, whoever you are. I hope you enjoy the photographs and feel your ten pounds was well spent ..

If you happen to be the one other photography fan who'd like the book, you can get it here https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0CY8ZKX9R

(Or here for the US .. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CY8ZKX9R )

Now then, anyone else ..?

Commercial Break: Check out my other photo-books here .. https://m05911.wixsite.com/my-site-2/about

Good grief, Charlie Brown ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At this exact time last year I was - and I make no bones about it - pissed as a fart. It was the day of my brother's funeral and the last of us hardy souls were still going strong at a pub called The Grapes, in Eccles. Today isn't a day to be maudlin, though. Instead, I'm thinking of the great times I've had with people who are no longer with us. People like my cousin Ricky here, who I photographed in a gross state of .. er, exaggeration! We were all shocked last month to hear of the sudden death of one of our French friends in the village .. gone at 73. Sad though that is, it brings a smile to my face now to think that I'll always know him as Snoopy, a nickname I gave him after I discovered his love of the cartoon character. (Literally good grief, Charlie Brown!)  

The good times. Always remember the good times ..