Boy on a bike at the Qayyarah oilfields (21 October)

Carl Court/Getty Images



I had heard the oilfields were on fire in Qayyarah, Iraq, and spent hours driving to get there. When I finally arrived, there was a strange atmosphere in the town – it felt dangerous and volatile, like anything could happen. My fixer said he was worried, that it didn’t feel right, and when a local guy like him is saying he doesn’t feel safe, you have to listen. We agreed to spend only 10 minutes on the ground, so I set my stopwatch and started snapping.

I was shooting the huge plumes of black smoke that were billowing up hundreds of feet into the air and hovering above, shrouding us in darkness. The light filtered through the soot in the air, creating an almost cinematic effect. I thought, it’s a shame there aren’t any people around to show how locals are living with this on their doorstep.

Just then, along came this boy on his bike. He stopped, looked at me quizzically for a few seconds, then cycled off. Most of the stuff I shoot in war zones feels run of the mill, but occasionally you realise that you’ve captured a poignant, important image. This was one of those times. When my 10 minutes were up, we got back into the air-conditioned car and drove away, we were very aware that we were leaving that poor kid behind. His life expectancy is probably lower after breathing in that horrible air. He’s what gives the picture its power; it’s that eerie mix of childhood and war.

President Obama meets president-elect Donald Trump in the Oval Office (10 November)

Win McNamee/Getty Images

The day after the election, I left New York City where I’d been planning to cover the election night event featuring the Democratic candidate Hillary Clinton, who had not shown up. Back in Washington DC, we immediately began sending requests to the White House press office for access to the first meeting between Barack Obama and Donald Trump.

The next morning, along with almost 30 other photographers and reporters, I was piling through the narrow doorway of the Oval Office where the two were seated. These situations are frequently chaotic and this one was no different, with reporters shouting questions and jostling for position. I expected the atmosphere to be somewhat chilly, but I was surprised to find it was just the opposite – they were quite at ease, comfortable in each other’s presence. It seemed to me that Obama had already decided that the best way to proceed was to genuinely offer as much help as he could to try and make sure the government continues to function as it should.

As I was photographing, I thought about the paintings and sculptures surrounding them. There is a portrait of the first president of the US George Washington in the centre, looking down from above, and busts of Martin Luther King to the left of Trump and of Abraham Lincoln to the right of Obama. I wondered what these former leaders would think of American politics today. I think that’s what makes the picture so powerful. The way it’s framed shows the context of the Oval Office and the maelstrom of the press, as well as the expressions on the two men’s faces. You see the urgency of the moment.

Sea turtle joins IronMan swimmers in Hawaii (8 October)

Donald Miralle/Getty Images

I had been in the water in Kailua Kona, Hawaii, for a couple of hours, getting everything ready to shoot the start of the IronMan race. Just before the start, out of the corner of my eye I saw this thing swimming right by me. I swung round and realised it was a green sea turtle. I’ve seen fish and other creatures before, but never a sea turtle at the start – they usually steer clear of crowds, especially a group of 2,000 like this. I shot a couple of pictures and then he swam off, and the race started two minutes later.

I knew as soon as I took the photograph that I had something special. It’s the juxtaposition of the turtle, floating so effortlessly underwater, underneath a bunch of humans who obviously aren’t as fit to be in the water – they have no clue he’s there. The host is much more at ease than the visitors, flying through the water, while they all kick their legs to stay afloat.

The green Honu, as these creatures are called, is a symbol of good luck in Hawaii – it’s considered a blessing when you see one. They are revered and respected. I don’t know if it brought luck to all the competitors, but it certainly did for me, with this photograph.

NFL football national anthem protest (2 October)

Marcio Sanchez/AP

I knew that Kaepernick (centre) was planning to take a stand during the national anthem at this game [between the San Francisco 49ers and the Dallas Cowboys] because he’d done it a few weeks earlier. He had said he was trying to make a statement about the oppression of people of colour, particularly by police. My focus was on taking the best technical image that I could. That meant being really close to the athletes – closer than I would be comfortable with, and closer than I am officially allowed to be, as only the team photographer has permission to be in that area. I discreetly walked over thinking a team official would stop me, but nobody did, so I just kept going. I took this shot from a kneeling position, just a few feet away from my subjects.

There was a sense of tension and sadness among the athletes. This is an issue they are divided on – some support him, like the two teammates who joined him (Eli Harold and Eric Reid), but others are against his stance. It was a very quiet and sombre mood. I didn’t get emotionally involved because I know that, as a professional, it gets in the way of recording the moment. If I let my own biases affect me on an issue as polarising as this then I won’t tell the story properly, so over the years I have learned to detach myself.

I’m an immigrant – I’m from Honduras and moved to the US when I was 13 – and I’ve noticed that professional athletes here seem to mirror what is going on socially in the country. I was aware of the historic significance of the moment and that it was my mission to document it. Kaepernick continues to kneel during the national anthem, and says he’ll stop when he feels progress has been made. I look forward to taking that photograph.

Giant sinkhole and restoration, Fukuoka, Japan (8 and 15 November)

Marina Imasato, Hiroko Harima/Kyodo News/AP

Two sinkholes had appeared in the main road of Hakata, the biggest city in Fukuoka – then joined to make one enormous hole, about 20m squared. I searched for a spot as high up as possible to take a picture from the bird’s eye view, and I found a room on the 7th floor of a building nearby. I opened the window to take my photograph and, looking down from above, I couldn’t believe that what I was seeing was real. It looked like meteorites had struck the earth. Not long after, sewage began flowing into the hole from the broken pipe, and the water level started to rise.

There were similar incidents in 2000 and 2004, and the causes still haven’t been found. I hope my picture shows that we need to investigate the causes of this accident so that we can try to stop it happening again. MI

Evacuation of the refugee camp in Calais (26 October)

Etienne Laurent/EPA

It’s hard to believe this photograph was taken in France. It could be the middle of a desert, a city near Mosul, or any other country at war. It’s like a city under siege, with the fires in the centre. But no, it’s France.

And yet, I was not shocked. I was just sad. There was a feeling that there was no solution for the problem of the “Jungle”, other than destruction. That is why I was not surprised when the fires were started – we still don’t know by whom. After four years of covering the camp, I knew these people, I’d met them before, most of them were friendly and warm. But we all knew it was over before the fire started – the camp had been being demolished for a few days, the refugees knew they were leaving and never coming back. Many were happy to go, and hoped to move on somewhere better, perhaps to apply for citizenship in France. Anything was better than being stuck in the Jungle, where there was no hope.

For me, this photograph shows an ending, but not a conclusion – because the problem of where these migrants can go is far from solved.

Beyoncé performs at the Super Bowl (7 February)

Mark J Rebilas/USA Today Sports

I photograph the Super Bowl every year but my main focus is the action on the football field. The half-time concert is a chance for me to do something different. I knew Beyoncé was going to be making an appearance but they keep everything pretty secretive leading up to the performance. I had four cameras on me with various lenses, so once I saw her come out I grabbed my longest lens to get a closeup view – I was pretty far away.

During the half-time show, it’s quite chaotic for the photographers on the sidelines – they have so many performers, big speakers, banners, and stuff that gets in the way. There’s all sorts of bright lights, smoke machines, fire – a lot of visuals that can really change how a photo looks. I ended up standing on a table to get a clear view for this picture, taken during her performance of Formation.

I like how it has Beyoncé perfectly in the middle of her dancers, and they’re all coming towards the camera with real intense looks on their faces. I didn’t know this at the time, but a lot of people were making a big deal of the [Black Panther-style] outfits her dancers were wearing. It seemed a little silly – I just thought it was a cool costume and didn’t read anything more into it.

Trump holds baby cousins in Colorado (29 July)

Stacie Scott/AP

I’m not a huge supporter of Trump’s, so when I was sent to cover his campaign rally at a college in Colorado Springs I wasn’t exactly looking forward to listening to him speak. Plus, when I arrived, the media had been restricted to the back of the room and we couldn’t leave the barricade. I was nervous, because when you’re covering something like that you want to go back to the office with something other than a podium shot, but from my position anything creative went out the window.

After his speech we were invited on to the stage, and I started to get excited. We were all fighting for space, so I went to the opposite side and waited for him to make his way along the line. When he got to the end, he was handed two babies by two mothers, who took pictures for about three seconds before he turned around to the media. He made all these goofy faces, and I was thinking, “Wow, this is great!” It was a wonderful 30 seconds for us.

There were other versions of this photograph – moments when everyone looked happy, or he was kissing a baby on the head, but I immediately knew this was the one. The picture said so much; I feel like it reflected how a lot of people felt about the election, at the time and now. It represented the fear, anger and frustration of his opponents, that we had reached a point where Trump was actually a serious candidate for president. I guess it also represented the pain and outrage his supporters were feeling about the way things were. Now I see it as a kind of foreshadowing of what happened next and the results of the election: it is a moment of terror.

Women wounded in the Brussels airport attacks (22 March)

Ketevan Kardava/AP

I was in the main hall of Brussels airport when I heard a sound like nothing I have ever heard before. I was standing in the middle of two terrific explosions – how I am still alive I do not know. Police would later tell me that it was a miracle that I escaped with no injury, that I was lucky. Perhaps I was lucky to live, but to be a part of this terror attack – there was nothing lucky about that.

I looked to my right and I saw a picture of hell. No one was standing, glass was falling, people were lying on the floor covered in blood and dust, their legs and hands blown up. I will never forget that sight. It was instinct that made me put my hand in my pocket and pull out my iPhone. I took this photograph, my first, at 8.03am, and 60 seconds later, at 8.04am, I took my 12th and final photo. Then soldiers told me I had to move, that it was too dangerous to stay.

I posted the photograph online and within an hour it was on the front page of the New York Times, the Washington Post and the Guardian websites. I later found out that the woman in the yellow jacket is called Nidhi Chaphekar and that she worked for Jet Airways. Thanks to Facebook and Twitter, I managed to find all the heroes that appear in my 12 photos, and they are all alive and healthy. We are friends now, and we talk nearly every day – somehow, it helps us.

I still live with the trauma of what I went through. For a few months I could not wear earphones because I was afraid of missing a sound. I cover so many stories of terror as a journalist and it’s very difficult for me to interview survivors because I know exactly how they feel. But this is something I have to overcome, because I have no right to sit and think about what happened. I have to go on with my life.

Usain Bolt competes at the Rio Olympics (14 August)

Cameron Spencer/Getty Images

This image was captured during Usain Bolt’s semi-final race. It was his last ever Olympics, so there was a lot of hype and a lot of pressure on him. I was actually photographing the high jump at the time, but I had time to duck across to the 100m race. I ran to the 70m mark – I knew he should be ahead of the other athletes and planned to photograph him using a slow shutter speed. Initially, there was a false start – it’s an instant disqualification, and my immediate reaction was “God, I hope that’s not Bolt”. I sprinted to the start line just in case, because that would have been the story of the Olympics. Luckily it wasn’t him, so I had run back, reset my camera settings and get ready – I was a bit pumped up.

Then the gun went off and Bolt was out in front by the 60m mark. You get camera shake when you’re shooting that slow so I had to hold my breath as they ran past. Next thing you know, he’s gone. When it was over, I looked at my camera and saw the big grin on his face – I couldn’t believe it. I knew it was something different and exciting. It wasn’t until after the 100m final later that night that I went on social media and realised that the image had blown up. I’ve never had a picture gain momentum like that before. People were saying things like, “This is the photo of the Olympics” – which was a huge compliment.

I think the picture resonated with so many because it’s an artistic shot, but also because Bolt is an entertainer, a showman on the track, and a lovable character. The way he runs, with such great technique and confidence, is all summed up in that picture. I met him after his final race and gave him a print. He said “I’ve seen it, I love it!”

Supporters take selfies with Hillary Clinton (25 September)

Barbara Kinney/Hillary Clinton campaign

There were about 500 people that couldn’t fit in the main campaign event in Orlando, Florida, so Hillary went and visited them in an adjacent room afterwards. She suggested they could do a group selfie, and then she posed with the crowd for it. It was great fun.

The selfie has definitely changed the way folks interact with Hillary on the ropeline at events. People don’t want to talk, they just want a selfie. I found it a little discouraging because it meant that the photos I took tended to be less interesting. I miss the emotional interactions that people tended to have when they met her. Now they just ask for a selfie.

Airstrike on rebel-held city of Douma (11 September)

Mohammed Badra/EPA

The man in the photo is Abu Soubhi, my neighbour. He is an elderly farmer, and we live on the same small street in Douma, a city on the outskirts of Damascus. I was sitting in my house as cluster bombs exploded around me. I waited for the noise to end, then ran outside to shelter in the basement next door. Before I left, I grabbed my camera.

Running down the basement steps, I heard the cluster bombs exploding again. I waited a while until they stopped, then went out to see if my neighbours were in trouble. I heard people yelling, “Fire! Fire! Call the white helmets!” The house on fire was Abu Soubhi’s. A bomb had fallen on his home, and in this picture, a white helmet volunteer called Hasan is asking him to leave his house, which is still burning. But he doesn’t want to go. He snuck away to the rooms as they burned, to see the damage. Before volunteers arrived to try to extinguish the fires, I watched him try to put out the huge flames with a cup of water, pouring cup after cup after cup. Two months later, Hasan, the hero of this picture, was killed by shelling.

I took pictures of my neighbour’s house as it was destroyed. I took pictures of Hasan, who died two months later. When will my house be burnt? When will I be killed? Am I taking pictures of my own future? We Syrians need peace. We can’t take any more, we can’t lose any more volunteers to bombs, our people can’t find new houses to live in. I take pictures so that this war will stop, so that we can rebuild Syria. I take pictures so that men like Abu Soubhi don’t have to watch their houses burn down.

Oscar Pistorius discards his prosthetic legs at sentence hearing (15 June )

Siphiwe Sibeko/Reuters

The atmosphere in the courtroom was tense that day. When, after a tea-break, Pistorius walked back to the dock not wearing his suit but instead a grey tee shirt and tight black shorts showing his prosthetic legs, I knew something was not right.

During proceedings, his lawyers asked the judge to allow Pistorius to walk on his stumps in the court room, to show that he was vulnerable when he shot Reeva Steenkamp. When he was called forward, I moved to make way for him and offered him my seat so that he could take off his prosthetic legs – that’s my laptop you can see on the left of the picture. Very slowly, hoping that the judge wouldn’t stop me, I walked to a position from which I would be able to get a nice wide shot of him in front of the public gallery.

It was very awkward to watch him walking on his stumps. You could hear sounds of shock coming from the audience – even though we knew his legs were prosthetic, it was still unexpected somehow. The carpet was not smooth, which must have made it difficult for him; you could see he was sweating and from the expression on his face that he was in pain. It was a very uncomfortable sight – he seemed embarrassed. He was no longer the fastest man, he was weak. Part of me felt sorry for him. But I remembered that I am a journalist and I had to record the moment. There was a job that needed to be done.

Wounded boy in ambulance, Aleppo (17 August)

Mahmoud Raslan/-Anadolu Agency/Getty

Five-year-old Omran Daqneesh sits in the back of an ambulance after being injured in airstrikes on the rebel-held Qaterji neighbourhood of Aleppo. He was taken to a hospital known as M10 and later discharged.



Water lily harvesting in Bangladesh (5 August)

Zakir Hossain Chowdhury/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images

I was standing beside a lake on an isolated village road with only a few vehicles passing by in the Munshiganj district near Dhaka, Bangladesh. It’s a very poor area, and I was searching for people who collect water lilies to sell at the market –it’s seasonal work, the rest of the year they work on farms as day labourers.

That’s where I came across the girl in the picture. Choity is nine years old and likes to wash the water lilies. She loves swimming and playing with them – unlike other children her age in Bangladesh, she doesn’t like going to school, but prefers having fun in her own way. Sometimes, early in the morning, she joins the water lily collectors as they sail out into the lake to gather as many as they can before noon, when they wash and prepare their haul. Choity takes a few of them home for her mother to cook.

While I was taking this photograph, I was transported back to my own childhood. I went to school in a village just over 130km from Dhaka, and like Choity I also used to collect water lilies while bathing in the lake – I loved relaxing in the rainwater surrounded by flowers, it felt so poetic. I too would take some home to my mother, who would fry the roots in a silver pot with chilli and garlic for our family to eat when I came home. Both Choity and I grew up in poverty – my mother was a housewife while my father worked in a printing press, and his low salary was not enough to look after me and my five sisters. But watching Choity, I realised that for her, this symbol of poverty had become an excuse to play, just as it had for me.

Models backstage during London fashion week (18 September)

Stuart C Wilson/Getty Images

Just before the start of the Anya Hindmarch show, one of the biggest of the week, security refused to let me in to the backstage area. Even though I had accreditation and was on the list, they had run out of passes. But I knew I had to get a picture, so I found a way to sneak past them.

I had seen the dress rehearsal and I knew the picture I wanted. If I could line three models up side by side then I could use my softbox ring flash – a fold-up piece of equipment I had with me – to create circular reflections in their sunglasses. But it was too congested and chaotic: the show was running late, PRs and staff in hi-vis jackets were rushing about, models were being dressed and Hindmarch, who wasn’t happy with the lighting, was having a meltdown.

My frustration was mounting but so was my determination to get something – anything – so I leaned over a crowd of people with my camera in one hand, asked one of the girls to look at me, and fired off a few different frames, bang-bang-bang. Then it was lockdown and I was kicked out for the start of the show. The next morning I woke up to texts from colleagues congratulating me and saw my picture on newspaper front pages. I was absolutely elated. Backstage at the shows, it’s not about documenting what’s actually happening, but making it look like something it’s not – like it’s an expensive shoot you’d see in Vogue, when in reality it’s just a quick snap.

Embers from a wildfire in California (17 August)

Noah Berger/AP

This was a very intense fire just outside of Los Angeles. I’d heard that a helicopter was going to be dropping water at random along the hillside, so I drove along the Blue Cut highway, through an area called Lytle Creek, trying to find it. Along the way, I stopped to take this photograph.

There were shots that I took of houses that burned, but this is different – this is not what you imagine a wildfire to look like. It may not be as dramatic as a wall of flames, but a hillside of embers is more unusual, and that’s why I like this photograph – it shows you something in a way you’re not used to seeing it. The whole area had been evacuated, and the firefighters were about half a mile away, so I was totally alone. It felt very peaceful, to be the only person out there. You could say it looks like an alien planet – there’s a sense that it goes on for ever, like an infinite field of embers.

David Bowie mural in Brixton (11 January)

Stefan Wermuth/Reuters

I spent most of 10 January in Brixton, watching and photographing David Bowie fans as they came and went, some laying flowers, some just pausing to look at the mural, some crying. People shared tales of meeting Bowie before he was famous, proudly telling me about their “Brixton boy”. There was sadness, but also nostalgia and happy memories too. Many people couldn’t believe he was gone.

I found myself standing behind this woman wearing a backless dress. It was quite dark by this point, but there was a TV cameraman next to her, casting a lightning flash-shaped play of light on her tattoo. She just stood there, looking at the mural, and then walked away. I didn’t get the chance to ask her about her memories or connection with Bowie, but I would have liked to. To me, this picture tells the story of that day. Bowie is gone, but he’s still there – in fact, he’s looking at you twice.

Nigel Farage and Donald Trump’s golden moment (12 November)

Andy Wigmore, Leave.EU communications director/Splash News

Nigel Farage had been told he was going to meet Steve Bannon but when we arrived at Trump Tower a big demonstration had just started – around 30,000 people. So as soon as we got in, they shut the building down. We ended up being there for nearly five hours. I got talking to Kellyanne Conway and she said, “Trump’s upstairs, would you like to come and see him?” – so up we went.

We took the lift and arrived outside this great big gold door – that’s actually his front door, not the lift itself. We knocked, Trump opened it and said, “Oh, there you are,” and let us all in. He sat us down, it was very relaxed, and we proceeded to have a 90-minute conversation with him. It was three days after the election and we were the first people he had seen outside of his campaign. He just wanted to go over what had happened with Brexit, with the election; we were sharing war stories.

As we were about to leave, the president-elect and Nigel were stood in front of the gold door and I said, “I’ve got to capture this moment”. Trump said, “Yeah, sure – come here Nigel” and grabbed him. I took two shots on my iPhone. Then we said our goodbyes. It wasn’t until we were going back down in the lift and I showed Nigel and Arron Banks the picture that it dawned on us how significant it was. It was like, “Wow, what are people going to think when they see this?” It symbolises 2016 beautifully. So we tweeted it and the impact was pretty immediate – everyone realised that Nigel was the first UK politician to meet the president-elect.

That picture is very valuable and we wanted to put it to good use – so all the proceeds of that picture being used are being divided between two veteran charities.

Britain reacts to the EU referendum result (24 June)

Mary Turner/Getty Images

This picture was taken just across the road from Downing Street on the evening of the referendum results. We had heard that there might be some demonstrations or protests – part of you just wants to go home, but you know that this could be a potential flashpoint.

I think the people in this image may have been in one of the marches in Parliament Square. They stood out. They were heartbroken by the result – when we spoke to them there was a genuine sense of despair. It was just a small demonstration and it struck me that these were very young people – some of them too young to have voted – who had lost faith in the political process. They almost didn’t know what to do with themselves, that was the peculiar thing – they wanted some expression of their rage and I think they hoped that the demonstrations would be really big. But it was quite a fragile little protest. To a photographer, that might be a bit disappointing, but then you get these more poignant moments instead.

I’m really glad this image ended up being used a lot because I think that sort of sadness has to be remembered, as opposed to the triumphalism that was shown elsewhere.

A guardsman faints at the trooping the colour (11 June)

Dylan Martinez/Reuters

This image was taken at the Horse Guards Parade, to celebrate the Queen’s 90th birthday. There were about a dozen photographers stood with me. You’re just hoping to get nice pictures of the Queen, who turns up in a carriage, and the royal family – William and Charles are on horses, all dressed up, looking very spectacular. Obviously it’s not the first time that a guard has fainted, so it’s always in the back of your mind, but I didn’t expect it that day. It wasn’t a particularly hot day – I was wearing a jacket.

I think it was actually the photographers who were the first to react. We all went “Oh my goodness!” – and then started taking pictures. Time seemed to stand still – or, at least, I seemed to be taking a lot of pictures, thinking, “Surely somebody is going to come and help this guy?”

It felt like an awfully long time that he was laying on the floor until eventually a woman – I think she was from the Salvation Army – ran in to help. Then other people joined her, picked him up, put him on a stretcher and carried him out. I don’t think he was seriously hurt but he landed on his face so I don’t think it can have been pleasant for him. He was one of hundreds of guards, but the only one that I saw go down. Nobody else reacts – none of the other guards; their job is to stay in line.

Migrants saved by the navy in Mediterranean (25 May)

Marina Militare/Anadolu Agency/Getty Images

Migrants in an overcrowded boat that capsized are rescued by Italian navy ships in the Mediterranean sea between Libya and Italy. Around 500 people were saved, but the bodies of seven others were discovered in the sea during the rescue operation.



David Cameron leaves No 10 Downing Street (13 July)

Andy Rain/EPA

A few days before any big event at No 10, all the main newswires and newspapers go into a hat to draw the positions of us photographers. Everyone knows where their stool or ladder will be placed and it’s all very orderly. Fortunately, on this day I was pretty head-on to the door, third row back on a four-step ladder.

Usually after an outgoing prime minister’s speech, they either leave there and then or go indoors and come straight back out, but David Cameron surprised us. He walked back to the door with Samantha and the three children, which made us all think they were going back inside. But they didn’t; they just stopped on the doorstep and hugged. That moment seemed like a final farewell for the whole family. After about 10 seconds, they walked down the street, got into their car and left.

It was a touching moment. His youngest daughter was weeping and being consoled by Samantha and the other two siblings – you felt for the kids, because it was obvious they could feel their father’s pain. In that moment you could see they were a family united, going through the same thing. I’m not a Conservative voter but you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him.

Theresa May enters No 10 (13 July)

Andy Rain/EPA

A few hours after the Camerons’ departure, Theresa May came up the street with her husband and they gave us loads of time on the doorstep waving – she giggled and smiled, which is quite rare for her. That was the final moment in a couple of weeks of completely crazy politics, the likes of which I’ve never seen before in the UK. This photograph was the final piece in the jigsaw, then it was back to business as usual. That’s politics – and that’s life.

Demonstration in Baton Rouge (9 July)

Jonathan Bachman/Reuters

I had been covering events in Baton Rouge after the shooting of Alton Sterling by two white police officers. My editor called that morning to say there was a demonstration planned for midday outside the police station, so I went straight over. I could feel the frustration and anger in the crowd, but there was no atmosphere of violence. A group of protesters blocked one lane of the highway, and that prompted a response from police officers in full riot gear. They told protesters they could not be in the street, and that if they gathered instead in the park nearby they would not be arrested. After chasing them into the park, the police retreated and formed a line across the highway.

I turned around and saw a woman I now know to be Ms Ieshia Evans standing there. Someone shouted, “Don’t stand there, they’re arresting people in the street.” Instinct took over – I quickly got into position and just held down the shutter as she was arrested. It can only have lasted 10 to 15 seconds. I knew this was a strong image, but I never anticipated that it would go viral. I was proud to have created a photograph that resonated with the world, and to have sparked an international conversation about police brutality and race relations in America.

I think it’s the composition and duality of the photograph that moved so many people. You just see a woman in a sundress, the fabric blowing in the breeze, standing up to male officers in full riot gear. It looks like she is repelling them with her grace, courage and power. You read stories about the strength and humanity of certain individuals, and that day I witnessed it. Two weeks ago, I met Ms Evans for the first time. I felt like I had come to know this woman in my image without ever meeting her properly. We had some time to sit and talk and get to know each other. It’s nice because we’re fellow north-easterners, so we can talk about things like winter and traffic – not so much the issues, just normal life.

Paralympian Regas Woods competes in the men’s long jump (17 September)

Lucas Uebel/Getty Images

It’s quite hard to shoot the men’s long jump – you have to lie down on the ground so you’re at the same level as the sandbox where the athletes land. You lie there for most of the event, around 40 minutes. You take breaks and sit up when you can as it gets pretty uncomfortable spending that much time on your back on the track.

There was a fear in Brazil that the Paralympic Games would not be as popular with the public as the Olympics but once they started Brazilians were won over by the athletes’ inspiring stories. This was very clear with Regas Woods, the only paralympic athlete with two mechanical legs. When he started his run-up the crowd burst into wild applause and shouts, encouraging him to push his limits. I felt all that support from where I was lying next to the sandbox, and I wanted to tell that story. As he started running, I held my breath and waited for the moment when he was flying to take my best shot. This is it.

Photographing the Paralympics was one of the best experiences of my career. And documenting this moment, when an athlete overcame his own limits and pushed his boundaries, was my most powerful memory.

Sleeping dormouse (late October)

James Robbins/National Trust Images

As a National Trust ranger on the Cothele estate in Cornwall, my job involves everything from stonewalling and tree felling to running activities for schoolchildren. On this particular morning I was checking the 60 dormouse boxes placed throughout the 1,300 acres – these are like bird boxes, except with the hole at the rear of the tree. They provide a safe space for this protected species to breed and rest, and help us keep track of how they’re doing.

It was a perfect autumn day, bright and crisp and cold. I check these boxes four times a year, and you’re never guaranteed to find a dormouse, so I was excited to open the first box and find one straight away. I could see the beautiful rich colour of its fur, its chest going in and out with every breath. The mouse was in a torpid state – a very deep sleep. As a licensed handler I knew it was safe to remove it gently and place it gently on some leaves so I could get a nice shot with the camera I’d borrowed, to show my colleagues. I took a few snaps and thought this photo was nice enough, then I placed the mouse back in the box and continued on my rounds.

When I got back to the office, the press officer shared the picture on Facebook, and it just snowballed. I couldn’t believe it, but now it’s had 20,000 likes. I think people were happy to see a good news story – this is a very rare native species that is flourishing on our estate. Plus, everyone likes a cute and cuddly animal picture, don’t they?

Gay pride parade in Madrid (2 July)

Daniel Ochoa de Olza/AP

The gay pride parade is always a big event. As a photographer, it’s a chance to capture good characters and relationships in your pictures. This photograph was taken in some gardens away from the main parade. People had stopped for a drink or to sit on the grass. I spotted this high-heeled, white-haired unicorn with his friends. He was posing for pictures and people were saying “Oh, you look like magic” – he was enjoying being the centre of attention. I tried to get a candid shot but he realised I was taking pictures and started walking as if he was on a catwalk.

I never shoot only one picture – you never know which image will be “the one”. There were a lot of people around, crossing in front of my lens, but I wanted to get a nice clear picture of the unicorn and the older lady – who had nothing to do with the parade – sitting on the bench. She seemed confused by what was going on – the parade is only one day a year and it gets super crazy. A lot of people are almost naked; it’s very sexual. When the unicorn sat close to her she seemed surprised and I thought it looked good. I think she was a bit shocked as it’s not usually a place for parties.

It’s quite a simple image but it’s recognisable all around the world. It’s not making a mockery of anyone in the picture, but it’s about having respect for different ideas and opinions.

Donald Trump supporters on election night (8 November)

Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images

I was invited to the election night party with the Trump campaign at the Hilton Hotel in Manhattan. It was early in the evening, and I was watching their reactions as they watched the electoral returns on the televisions in the rooms – all tuned to Fox News, of course. The states started to tally up and they started to fall into Trump’s column.

Many of the people who had been invited to this party believed Trump was not going to win the election. When young people started reacting emotionally to the returns, I was happy, because there were pictures to be made. It was a blessing to be able to get some images that would later illustrate the enthusiasm – the joy – at Trump’s eventual victory.



In situations where you have lots of people reacting emotionally, you think it should be simple. But when you sit down to edit later, finding that very specific frame – that not only captures the moment, but also has good composition and framing – doesn’t come as easy as you might think. I think this is a very telling image. It’s the demographic: young white men – white men in general – who helped propel Trump to the White House. Interview by Donato Paolo Mancini

Rolling Stones concert in Cuba (25 March)

Joe Raedle/Getty Images

I went to Cuba to photograph President Obama’s visit, and decided to stay to cover the country’s first Rolling Stones concert. This shot was taken before it started, where thousands of kids and young people were waiting at the huge open venue, just dancing and having fun in the field. Everyone was excited, and some kids were throwing each other up in the air and catching each other. I laughed along with them as I took my pictures, enjoying the mood and carefree atmosphere. There was no dancing from me though – I’m not a good dancer.