Archive for the ‘Street Photography’ Category

Weala Broc


Hypnotised by the history in ancient lanes, psychogeographers continue downstream through Tokenhouse Yard towards the great parapet of the Bank of England.


Bang on three-thirty, the UKIP smokers spilled out from Westminster Hall to light up after what was a gruelling group hug inside. MEP Geoffrey Bloom had earlier referred to their women members as “sluts” and whacked the political reporter Michael Crick across his comb over.

At lunchtime, bareheaded north Europeans poured from their air con offices to experience the blistering heat, squinted into the Biblical light, and then photographed the phenomena with their smartphones. Helios was having a blast.

.. At the finale of their folksy choreography, the men stretched up with hankies towards the bunting – a tribal worship to the national divinity like pagan prayers in neolithic Stonehenge.

Look Right


The City was reliving its daily ritual, evolving since ancient times. Merchants and passing traders, carts hauling the produce brought in from outside the city walls.

Everyday street spectacles: Tragic fires or the rioting mob, there are countless, similarly documented events in this century that bring nearer the sum total of an organic metropolis. Throughout the ages London has itself repeated – scenarios forever rewound. In the aftermath of the Blitz, bomb sites reverted to nature with species not seen since genteel Tudor times.

“The first thing I remember seeing outside the station was the Zeus-scaled statue of Athens wonder woman Kelly Holmes though at first I thought my arrival was too late until I realised she was in fact being slowly dismembered – a good omen for this grand tour of Olympic Lilliput. In its place would be the steps leading up to the new Westfield shopping mall – an early example of things to come where the messages of health through sport inevitably now yields to the branding of Big Macs.”

To street photographers a city like Glasgow is less frantic and chaotic but nonetheless a more confrontational city than London – a capital known for its English frostiness to northern trippers.



“So then the blonde in red comes along and drops her Oyster card and I hope she’s going to notice, going to turn around and do what I yearn will be something special. Something does make her stop and it’s all done and dusted in a few seconds.”



The Greenway looks less green and more white concrete these days with early sprays of graffiti on the first pillars. Over on the western border once stood the beautiful Manor Garden Allotments, the parcels of land where community gardeners grew their veg – bulldozed for a warm-up track so that Usain Bolt can work up a sweat.