Patrick M. was retiring at the end of the month. I asked if I could make a portrait of him in his office before he left.
He was keen, he said.
But this final month was full of meetings: Could I visit him the very next morning, at 9am?
Yes, I said. I’ll be there.
***
I woke early so I could arrive early – to maximise the time available to make the picture.
Patrick works for a law firm in the City of London.
Long experience of going into places like that has taught me that it can take time even just getting checked in at reception, going up in the lifts etc.
Every minute counts.
Workers rushing out of Moorgate Tube that day.
Having arrived, I sat in a low seat in reception, surrounded by young people who seemed to have come for interviews.
My phone pinged. Patrick was running late: problems with the bus, he said – sorry.
My time for making his portrait would be reduced.
Full of nervous energy, I took a photo of the table in front of me:
***
Chatty Patty
(That’s what he’s called, apparently. I didn’t make it up.)
When he arrived, Patrick went around all the young people to ask how they were doing, encouraging them to be confident and enjoy themselves today.
One young woman was sitting alone.
Patrick went over to her and cheerfully encouraged her to join the others. “We are looking for team-players,” he said.
She smiled shyly but looked pleased to join the rest.
Then Patrick came over to me.
***
Pointless, mad cup of coffee
He asked if I’d like a coffee. Stupidly, I said yes, so we stopped off at the internal cafeteria where there was a long queue of other coffee drinkers.
Tick tock, tick tock…
From there, we took a lift to his office on a higher floor. In the lift, as in the cafe earlier, people smiled at Patrick and engaged cheerfully with him.
He talks to everyone, he told me, does it all the time – just as his father did.
Five-hundred people came to his father’s funeral, he said. “I want five hundred to come to mine!”
We arrived at his office.
.
.
[Pause.]
.
If you’ve been reading my newsletter for a while, you may know that I like to publish occasional pop-up series of emails. There may be three in the series, delivered over three days. Or five. Or whatever. It varies.
Writing an email series is like having a little adventure, shared only with the people who opt in to read them.
I don’t send them to everyone.
If you too publish a newsletter1, you may like to do the same.
Anyway, I’m going to publish a short pop-up series of emails about Patrick’s portrait.
It’s likely to cover:
- The significance of a person’s workplace: the stuff that seems so permanent until (poof!) all trace disappears
- The purpose of portraits in an age of mass photography and video
- The purpose and value of pop-up email series
Apart from that, I’m really not sure. I like to keep these things fluid.
If you’d like to join me on this little adventure, please CLICK HERE.
***
1 If you DON’T publish a newsletter, WHY NOT?!