Somerset House, London.
Every time I saw this woman in London, which was 3 or 4 times, I wanted to photograph her. In fact, each time I went out of my way to photograph her. Each time I captured a better photo than the previous time, as I’d understand a little more the nuances of her face and demeanour as I’d look at the photos I’d take of her at the end of the day. This was the very last frame I shot of her and I think it’s pretty special. I was on the terrace behind Somerset House talking to a couple of friends when I spotted her some 20 metres away. She’d actually just slipped into the building through the back door when I jumped from the table to run and reach her. By the time I did, she’d already made it through the house and we met at the front porch. I asked to bother her once more for a photo and she kindly obliged, but as I looked at the space around her it became immediately clear that this wasn’t what I wanted. I convinced her to return to the back terrace so I could try to photograph her as the sun was setting. I positioned her several different ways and got great frames of everything we tried. I stopped shooting when I captured this one. Sometimes you get lucky.