It’s a beautiful thing when someone trusts me to photograph their newborn. These aren’t just pictures — they’re the first memories of a life just beginning. One day, this little girl will show these portraits to her own children and grandchildren. They’ll see the faces of their ancestors, the hands that first held their mother and grandmother, and the beginning of their family story.

The Leica M3 is the camera that changed how 35 mm rangefinders worked. It was the first Leica with a bayonet mount, the first with a single combined view and rangefinder, and the first that felt as if every control was designed around the photographer’s hand rather than the factory’s production line. Mine is a double-stroke version, serviced, used weekly, and it remains the most exact mechanical device I own. There are smoother cameras, lighter ones, quieter ones, but none that give the same sense of mechanical certainty.

In the early to mid-twentieth century, Pyro found its most famous advocates. Ansel Adams, Edward Weston, and other Zone System pioneers relied on Pyro for its long tonal curve and ability to handle extreme contrast scenes. Adams’ negatives from Yosemite, printed decades later, still exhibit the smooth highlight roll-off typical of Pyrogallol development. Pyro allowed these photographers to “place” tones with mathematical precision — the foundation of the Zone System itself.

There are few developers that define the tonal language of black and white film the way Pyro does. It’s one of the most advanced formulations ever created — prized for smooth highlights, long tonal transitions, and a calm, sculptural rendering of light.

The 50mm f/1.5 Zeiss Sonnar from 1939 is one of the great optical designs of the last century. It belongs to an age before coating, before marketing language replaced observation. It was built to interpret light, not to control it. Mine is one of the last pre-war uncoated examples, mounted on a Contax IIa body from the early 1950s — the bridge between the pre-war world and the modern one.

Film photography deserves more than a production line. That’s why I started Liquid Light Lab — a hand-crafted film processing and scanning service built by a photographer, for photographers. The Lab is now open, and it’s already been trusted with rolls that mean the world to people across the UK.

Most people think of portraits as studio headshots under flat lights. Safe, predictable, and forgettable. But a portrait doesn’t have to be like that. At Liquid Light Whisperer, every portrait session is cinematic. On location, I create not just an image, but a scene — a memory made real, captured on film.

This article walks you through exactly what happens when you book a cinematic portrait shoot with me, from the first call to the final photographs. If you’re considering a portrait session, this is what you can expect.

In today’s world, it’s easy to confuse digital editing with photography. Scroll through social media and you’ll see endless images smoothed, graded, and altered until the original moment is barely recognisable. That isn’t photography — it’s post-production. It’s editing.

There are vintage lenses you respect for their engineering, and then there are lenses you fall in love with because of how they render the world. The Carl Zeiss Jena Pancolar 50mm f/1.8 Zebra, in its radioactive 8-blade form from the late 1960s, is very much the latter. This is a lens that reminds you why character still matters — whether you’re shooting on film or adapting to digital.

For years, I thought colour was the best way to preserve memories. It felt modern, vivid, and real — the perfect match for the moments I wanted to hold on to. But colour doesn’t last the way we imagine.

Prints fade, slides shift, and digital colour grades fall out of fashion. What looked stylish a few years ago now feels dated. Even today’s digital RAW edits tied to popular “film look” presets eventually reveal themselves as fads.

Black and white is different.

Every frame of film is an investment. Whether it’s your wedding day, your child’s first steps, or a portrait you’ve carefully planned, that negative is unique and irreplaceable. The scan is what decides how much of it you’ll actually see.

Most labs don’t deliver the full potential of film. That’s why I built Liquid Light Lab — to give your negatives the scans they deserve, with no shortcuts.

Nationwide service: wherever you are in the UK — London, Manchester, Anglesey, Edinburgh, Orkney, Belfast — you can post your film directly to me and receive archival-quality scans back.

Shooting with film doesn’t just change how a photographer works — it changes how a model experiences the shoot. For someone used to digital cameras firing hundreds of frames a minute, the film process feels different: slower, more deliberate, sometimes even unnerving at first.

That’s why setting expectations is crucial. When a model understands what film brings — the rhythm, the limitations, the rituals — it transforms the session from uncertainty into collaboration. At Liquid Light Whisperer, this conversation happens before the first roll is loaded, because trust is as important as light.

Digital photography gave us precision, speed, and infinite repetition. It perfected the technical image — but in doing so, it stripped away something that analog never lost: a sense of life.

Film photography endures because it feels different. It slows us down, resists instant gratification, and produces images with texture and presence. In a world of disposable content, film stands out as something alive.

I am pleased to announce the launch of Liquid Light Lab — a dedicated film processing service built for those who value craft, character, and precision in their analogue photography.

For years, I’ve been immersed in both sides of the photographic world — creating work with musicians, Hollywood actors, directors, and everyday clients who simply wanted something exceptional, and guiding fellow photographers through the nuances of analogue technique. Alongside this, I’ve refined my own approach to developing film — an approach rooted in consistency, detail, and the same artistic sensibility that runs through my photography.

Where modern optics are designed to correct, suppress, and polish, older lenses allow light to express itself in ways that feel alive. The edges aren’t always sharp. The coatings flare in unpredictable halos. The bokeh swirls or doubles or melts away entirely. What many engineers considered flaws, photographers now treat as signatures — fingerprints left by history on light itself.

It’s not every day that a company like Lomography asks you to test a prototype. When their team invited me to run the new Daylight Developing Tank through its paces, I was genuinely pleased. Lomography has long been at the heart of keeping film culture alive worldwide, and being part of their R&D process — before the public even got a glimpse — was a privilege.

The result was a set of articles about my experience published across their international network in four languages.

When an image is exposed on film, it isn’t yet a photograph. It lives invisibly in the emulsion, suspended between existence and nothingness — a latent ghost of light. At this stage it can still be erased, fogged, or lost entirely, but it is there, waiting. Only when it meets developer does it reveal itself, and only when it meets fixer is it frozen forever. That alchemy — the moment when something ephemeral becomes permanent — is what makes film different. Memory doesn’t just appear; it is conjured, stabilised, and preserved.

The AGO Film Processor bridges home development and lab-level consistency. From 510 Pyro to C-41 and ECN-2, it saves chemistry, compensates for temperature drift, and delivers repeatable, professional results at home. Not perfect, but a game-changer for anyone serious about film developing.

Pyro-based developers have a rich history dating back to the very origins of photography in the 1830s. Early photographic pioneers in England—including William Henry Fox Talbot—experimented with gallic acid and its derivatives, such as pyrogallol (the chemical foundation of pyro developers).

Lomography UK recently reached out to me with an exciting proposition: test and review a prototype of their new Daylight Development Tank.