Rory Lewis photography

A Week at Bleeding Heart Yard: London, 21st–27th July

A Week at Bleeding Heart Yard: London, 21st–27th July

I am back in London for one week this July, the 21st through the 27th, and the studio at Bleeding Heart Yard will be open for the duration.

There is a particular pleasure in photographing in London that I never quite shake. The light here behaves differently — softer, more conspiratorial, forever threatening rain. It suits the way I work. I have spent the better part of my career chasing the kind of light the Old Masters understood instinctively: a single source, a deep and forgiving shadow, a face emerging from near-darkness as though it had decided, of its own accord, to be seen. Caravaggio knew the trick of it. So did Rembrandt. The shadow is not the absence of the subject; it is the thing that gives the subject weight.

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I photographed Britain's next Prime Minister Andy Burnham

I photographed Britain's next Prime Minister Andy Burnham

Andy Burnham, sworn in only today as the new Member of Parliament for Makerfield, confirmed he would stand. Wes Streeting, the one figure thought capable of mounting a challenge, set aside his own ambitions and offered his backing instead. The party has rallied. If no rival emerges when nominations open on 9 July, Burnham could enter Downing Street within weeks. For now he is not Prime Minister, but he has been practically crowned as one.

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A Privilege — Babs Olusanmokun in London

A Privilege — Babs Olusanmokun in London

I had the privilege this week of photographing Babs Olusanmokun in my London studio, and as I worked I found myself thinking, not for the first time, about how often I get to say that word — privilege — about the Black actors who find their way to my chair.

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The Singer's Silence — Nick Pritchard at the Los Angeles Studio

The Singer's Silence — Nick Pritchard at the Los Angeles Studio

There is a particular quiet that settles over a portrait sitting when the subject is, by trade, a maker of sound. The performer who fills a room — who has stood in front of seventeen thousand people at the Coca-Cola Arena and held them — arrives in my studio and discovers that the only instrument I am asking him to play is his own stillness. Nick Pritchard understood this faster than most.

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