Weren’t a Smartphone and a Selfie Stick Enough?

I came across this scene by the river, a curious reminder of how professional video production still insists on carrying a certain visual gravitas—bulky cameras, tripods, cables trailing like stubborn vines, a producer juggling a laptop in the open air. The subject, immaculately dressed in black with a luxury backpack and gold-accented shoes, seemed to embrace the contrast: part street style, part broadcast formality.

From a photographic standpoint, I framed the shot to capture the triangle of interaction: presenter, cameraman, producer. The bridge in the background, softened by a wide aperture, hints at location without intruding. The muted palette of the surroundings lets the splashes of colour—those gold shoes and the producer’s bright red trainers—pull the eye through the composition.

Technically, the light was forgiving: an overcast sky provided even, shadowless illumination, ideal for retaining detail in both clothing and skin tones. Exposure is balanced, no harsh highlights or crushed shadows, though the grey pavement dominates a large part of the frame, giving the image a slightly flat tonal foundation. A tighter crop could have intensified the focus on the human dynamics, but I opted to keep the environmental context—after all, the setting is part of the commentary.

This photograph works as both a candid street scene and a wry observation. In an age where much video content is shot on phones, the persistence of this kind of kit says something about image, about the professional identity of crews, and perhaps about the lingering romance of “big camera” authority.