LIFE THROUGH A LENS: NIGEL HARNIMAN
He’s the photographer behind countless big-budget manufacturer shoots, the results appearing everywhere from brochures to billboards. Here Nigel Harniman tells the stories behind his favourite images and talks about his career to date
You’ve seen his photos in numerous adverts and brochures. Here Nigel Harniman shares his favourites and tells the story of his career to date
ANY CONVERSATION WITH NIGEL Harniman is likely to involve a laugh. He may be a very serious photographer – as evidenced by the quality of the pictures printed here – but he’s also a very funny bloke and a font of entertaining anecdotes from four decades in the snapping game, which pour forth even during the briefest chat.
He’s also a slightly unusual subject matter for Life Through a Lens, in as much as he doesn’t shoot editorial and never has. A quick look through his Instagram account reveals that should the mood ever take him then shooting cars for motoring magazines really wouldn’t be a problem, but his speciality is lavish, time- and labourintensive images (stills and video) for advertising and corporate clients. These types of pictures involve a team of people to create and Harniman acknowledges the joint effort by always saying ‘we’ and not ‘I’ when referencing any of his jobs.
What’s also endearing about Harniman is his passion not just for his art, but also for the subject matter – he’s immersed in the world of cars. He owns a yellow firstgeneration Honda NSX, has attended many a trackday, lives just around the corner from the Shelsley Walsh Hill Climb, and has mates who build, restore, sell and collect cars. He’s also a ‘friend’ of Goodwood both in professional and private capacities, spending much time at the Festival of Speed and the Revival.
But it was two wheels rather than four that ultimately drove Harniman into the photography business. ‘As a lad I was a bit of a tearaway on a motorbike,’ he confesses. ‘I had a Fizzy [a 50cc Yamaha FS1-E, a very popular moped in the 1970s] that I fettled to get 50mph out of. I ended up crashing into a churchyard. In a bid to distract me from bikes, my dad bought me a camera, although I didn’t actually get around to using it until I went to art college.’
This was towards the end of the 1980s, and the art college experience fired Harniman’s enthusiasm for photography as a career. ‘I came out of art school and looked for an assistant’s job, as that was the pattern back then. The heart of the advertising world at that time was London, so I went and threw myself in there and basically tried to hook up with some of the most influential global photographers who I could assist for.
‘I worked in their studios and various places and after four or five years of learning my craft, people started calling me up. There was a trend for fashion photographers to shoot cars and it was quite interesting to watch – fashion photographers wandering around with a 35mm camera going “lovely”, but give them a 5x4 film camera [the “large format” cameras then preferred for their higher quality images] and they discovered it’s quite a different skill set.
‘So I was asked to do, shall we say, “camera operation”, taking my 5x4 cameras on big commercial car shoots. The fashion photographer would be the director and I’d be the camera operator, that’s how it would be set up back in the ’90s. That’s how I got into the car world – it was a long, long, long process. I went around knocking hopefully on the right doors for five, six, seven years and eventually some of those doors opened. I had a good break with the original Ford Galaxy shoot on the Bonneville Salt Flats, which led to the Ford pan-european account, and then the Jeep account in the ’90s, Subaru with the Impreza, and Renault with the Clio.
‘I cut my teeth with the Nicole and Papa Clio ad campaign for Renault in the early ’90s. We then had the very first V6 Clio – they gave it to us along with a racetrack for a week, which was quite entertaining. There was no art direction, nothing, just a request to get some good pictures and to “bring it back in one piece” – I think it was the car that was due on the stand for the official launch at the Paris motor show.’
Although his work has for decades taken him all around the world to shoot fabulous machinery, Harniman possesses a humility that suggests he realises how lucky he is to do so, and how almost unreal it is to do the things he does, in the places that he does them, and call it a job. ‘With that Galaxy shoot we travelled around the States first class, which at the time seemed pretty special. And in 2003 we flew to Japan to shoot the first Impreza Bugeye, the Paris show car; we were able to thrash that around on private roads, which was tremendous fun. Then there was sitting on the skids of a helicopter in South
Africa while the pilot battled fierce winds. We were shooting for Jaguar in Beirut on the day of 9/11 when the Twin Towers came down; that was an interesting few days to say the least…’
And so the stories go on. Lots and lots of them. Some unrepeatable, at least in print. The tales which magazine photographers are likely to choke on involve the power of huge advertising budgets and the political clout of major car companies when organising shoots. ‘Those big budgets have allowed us to do crazy stuff,’ chuckles Harniman, ‘like shut down the 710 Freeway in Los Angeles for a Volvo shoot, and close the 405 Freeway tunnel out of LA airport for a Cadillac job.’
But Harniman has nothing but respect for car photographers operating in more fiscally restrained circumstances. ‘Photography for motoring magazines has come on leaps and bounds, especially since the advent of digital. It’s bloody excellent now. I mean it really, really is. The evo front covers, you go “Look at that sliding shot of a car” or “Look at that tracking shot of a car” and it makes all the sheet metal look fantastic. I absolutely love it. It’s a shame for us old duffers who basically were once able to hide behind smoke and mirrors – we could slide sheets of 5x4 film out the back of cameras and it looked like alchemy! Those days have well and truly gone.’
Does he miss film? ‘The thing I miss about film is that it gave you time to think. That time to think enabled you to ponder all of the ramifications of a shot, to consider the best options. These days the approach is: let’s just shoot loads. There are various workflows that people promote these days – you can shoot 1200 images in an afternoon – and I think well, yeah, that’s great, that means you shoot one frame every 20 seconds. How much time have you actually given to what you’re pressing the button for?
‘Digital now is amazingly good: it’s everything it needs to be, doesn’t need to be any better. But while the pictures can be technically excellent, I sometimes think they lack soul. So I’ve been buying old Nikon lenses from the ’60s and ’70s and putting them onto modern mirrorless cameras – these lenses give a creamy, not-quite-sharp image, not super-saturated, which gives a 1970s Instamatic feel without using a filter.’
This notion of investing images with personality is important to Harniman. ‘Every picture needs a purpose, it’s not a space-filler as you so often see on Instagram: “Look at me, I’m having a marvellous time.” That’s not where I’m at. I’m into making more soulful images which are more than merely a square frame with a car plonked in the middle of it.’