A woman dressed in a bridal gown wanders through a forest, being photographed by David Hurn, whose assistants waft dry ice across her path. He reminisces about his big break, where his coverage of the 1956 Hungarian revolution made his reputation, though he is sharply critical of his working methods then, spending too much time looking for pictures instead of being aware of what was happening around him.
On a paparazzo-style candid assignment in the grounds of a large mansion, Hurn is spotted and chased by a guard and his dog, managing to escape over the wall just in time. He develops his film in the back seat of the car on the return journey, explaining that with this type of work, speed is of the essence, and that provided the photographs can be captioned, it doesn't matter how good they are aesthetically.
Before a fashion shoot, Hurn discusses the final layout with the magazine's art director. He prefers to shoot in his home studio with friends, so to an outsider the set-up looks like an afternoon tea party, complete with records and dancing and an atmosphere of relaxation. While fashion photography is all about trends, these are set not by the photographer but by the editor, who chooses the clothes, jewellery, make-up and all the other elements.
Hurn invariably shoots in 35mm, and prefers daylight to artificial lighting. He likes to work with the same models because they intuitively guess what he requires, often before he's thought of it himself. He is conscious that although fashion is technically news, his fashion pictures are essentially advertising.
Hurn shoots one of his more personal projects, a study of the Little Sisters of the Assumption, a convent in Notting Hill Gate, London, that specialises in tending the sick. Hurn explains that he tries to show both the nuns' work and the kind of people that they are.
Hurn shoots a story about people in the entertainment business, concentrating on Joey, a Soho stripper who performs thirty times a day in different clubs. What interests Hurn isn't so much her work as the atmosphere of the place she works in. A fire-eating stripper performs to Ravel's 'Boléro'.
Hurn also does a lot of publicity work, recreating film scenes for marketing purposes. He says that his biggest challenge is getting advertising space for male actors. Charlton Heston once ruefully acknowledged that a picture of him would be far less appealing than one of a Ben-Hur slave girl, even if played by a total unknown.
Although Hurn takes thousands of pictures a year, he is generally only truly satisfied by one or two. He is particularly attached to one photograph of a young Hungarian boy, who was killed the day after it was taken.
