I used to like clichés. But I think they’ve become a bit overused.

A clichéd image of, say, a doctor would be a man (always a man) with a stethoscope around his neck. Smiling benignly to an imaginary patient.

Cliché-lawyer? Sharp, pin-striped suit. Square jaw and, for reasons I can’t fathom, dark or grey hair. Are there really no blonde lawyers?

And what do we have here: a professor in a bow tie? What a surprise. Howdy teacher – dig the cords. And is that real leather you’ve used for those elbow patches on your jacket?

You get the general idea…

So how refreshing it was to go to a local firm of accountants recently to photograph the people working there out of context… you know, not holding calculators, not sitting next to a stack of ersatz cash, or gazing at a spreadsheet on a computer screen…

Instead, they were photographed showing what they do outside of work which, of course, illustrates that they are real people, afterall, not just anonymous, number-crunching suits who gape at the telly when the budget’s on.

We’re not talking about people being crazily outrageous, doing things that they wouldn’t be happy for online viewers everywhere to see them doing, as this would not only be incongruous with their profession, but potentially damaging for their brand.

But browsers of the firm’s site are probably not expecting to see a picture of a female accountant surrounded by builders’ tools just because she happens to enjoy DIY at the weekends. This fact alone means that viewers’ attention might be held for a moment or two, which is afterall one of the website’s jobs.

It also helps the firm distinguish itself from some of its competitors. And it might even suggest, to at least some browsers, that the people working at this particular accountancy firm have a sense of humour which, hopefully, it’s not yet become a cliché to suggest, is priceless.

- ENDS

[April 2012]

Under the inky sky were random dots of light, roughly outlining a pathway, like a nocturnal airstrip drawn by a drunk. Closer inspection revealed the random dots to be tea lights encased in brown paper bags with stars cut out. The flickering dots drew you further into the darkness, round corners, through bushes, under trees…

In the distance more tea lights, apparently floating in mid-air, pulled you under the branches where they clung, towards the tennis pavilion, where vague Dickensian urchins scampered in and out of doorways in their pyjamas!

This spooky dreamscape, believe it or not, was the setting for an impish night of entertainment aimed at children; yet like all the best entertainment, it really had universal appeal. The big people were happy to sit under the stars at candlelit tables, sipping hot chocolate and nibbling cookies, caught up in a scene they now began to think they’d imagined themselves.

I was fortunate enough to be invited along to try and capture, somehow, the magic.

The dusky storytelling itself – for this is why we were here – took place beneath the pavilion’s roof, in a park in the middle of Birmingham. It was conjured by Moseley based Little Mo, a company younger than its target audience – so new in fact is Little Mo it doesn’t yet have a website.

But a website is surely on its way, for Little Mo will grow up very quickly, I predict. The night was a big hit, not just with the under 8s who, cosseted on a huge raft of floor-cushions, were transported into Neverlands by storytelling guru Carole Graham. They clung more tightly to her words than they did to their own teddies, like snails hanging onto the tail of a whale.

Big people were equally captivated by the scene, allowing their offspring to flit between the tiny naked flames outside, or to dance beneath stars, running their free range legs into the ground just before bedtime.

I’ve no idea what else Little Mo has in store for its pyjama-clad groupies. An evening cinema, perhaps, with fire breathers and acrobats gamboling down the aisles during the interval? Midnight magicians, a visit to the man on the moon..?

The possibilities are endless. And if, like me, you’re looking for some seemingly unscripted experiences (for your children’s entertainment, of course!) then follow the tea lights that lead to Little Mo. It’s magical!

- ENDS

Storyteller Carole Graham is based in Hereford:

www.storyspace.co.uk/index.php

To be added to Little Mo’s mailing list contact:

bthirteen@hotmail.co.uk

[March 2012]

AS ST VALENTINE swaggers back into town, and optimists’ eyes begin flirting with the backs of letterboxes, the chill in the air gives way to a bit of warmth.

It has to be the most romantic time of year, at least for those meltingly intrigued by the lettering on the billet-doux that lit up their welcome mat.

The 14^th day of this month is also the opportune time to propose; and if a traditional one’s not forthcoming, audacious girls are given licence to take the bull by the horns by getting down on their own bended knees on the 29th…

For the photographer charged with recording the wedding, an appreciation of the emotions, the build up and the organisation is paramount. What else would better help a couple re-live the best day of their lives but images of themselves among their friends and family?

My approach is simply to work around the couple, unobtrusively, capturing the details of the day, including the laughter, the tensions and the dancing. A group shot here and there is as integral as confetti, assuring couples they’ll have a memento of everyone who attended. But few want to spend half the day with fixed camera grins, I find.

Building trust begins at a pre-wedding meeting, to the extent that, should events become a little overwhelming, as they did for the bride and groom in this photo, they can rest, assured their big day’s best moments are being captured forever.

And they’re being captured as high resolution files with Canon’s top-of-the-range digital cameras, coupled with its professional, L-series lenses. The digital images can then be shared online, or can be used to produce album prints or even large format pictures to adorn any interior wall space.

[February 2012].