A Portrait: My Unforgettable Day with Naomi Klein

Hello, lovely readers! Fasten your seatbelts; I’m about to take you on a journey – the day Naomi Klein – yes, the Naomi Klein, queen of sharp words and sharper insights – stepped into my world (and my slightly cramped studio).

The Big News

Picture this: a regular day turned topsy-turvy by an email. And not just any email, but one from The Sunday Times genius picture editor Russ O’Connell, looking for a portrait of Naomi Klein. I did what any sane person would do: After a momentary Google frenzy to confirm it was indeed her, a wave of excitement washed over me, tinged with a hint of panic. How do you encapsulate a powerhouse of intellect and activism in a single frame? My creative conspirator, Marius, was buzzing like a bee who’d just found the biggest flower. His excitement for meeting intellects is something akin to a dog’s joy on hearing ‘walkies!’

Studio Shenanigans

Our studio – quaint, charming, and on that day, a masterclass in space optimization. We transformed it into an artist’s playground, complete with a set and a backup backdrop, turning it into a delightful labyrinth.

Our brainchild, courtesy of Marius and yours truly, was to plonk Naomi in a chair that looked like it had survived a few world wars – a visual metaphor for the resilience amidst chaos she often writes about. We wanted her there, notebook in hand, lost in thoughts about our topsy-turvy world.

The Naomi Klein Effect

Naomi’s arrival was a breath of fresh air – she came alone, no entourage in tow, embodying the definition of ‘power woman.’ It was a testament to her authenticity. She was every bit the powerful, inspirational figure I had imagined, and I found myself respecting and relating to her even more.

Hair-Raising Interactions

Our ice-breaking moment came courtesy of Marius’s wit. Naomi, taking in the compact size of our studio, inquired if this was where we photographed most people. Marius, deadpan as ever, said, “No, we only photograph less important people here.” I nearly choked on my coffee. She just smiled. His talent for sophisticated sarcasm is something else – it’s like he’s got a PhD in making people laugh and cringe in equal measure.

His boldness never fails to stop my heart, but his wit seems to charm and disarm in equal measure, strangely earning trust and respect by breaking down barriers. He knows his art but I can never get used to it.

Click, Click, Hooray!

The portraits? Now, sitting here with my cup of tea, reflecting on that day, it strikes me: this wasn’t just about capturing a face; it was about capturing a force. And somehow, in the midst of all the clicks and flashes, I think we managed just that. From her commanding presence in a chair that’s more story than furniture, to a more relaxed, contemplative moment surrounded by her thoughts (literally, in the form of scattered papers), and finally, a direct, soul-piercing gaze inviting a silent conversation. Let’s just say they’re a visual symphony.