That’s me in the picture: Patrick Sheehy drinking a pint in Leadenhall Market, London, December 2011
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Version 0 of 1. I like this photograph, but the fact the photographer called it Bankers at Leadenhall Market irritates me. I recognise every face in this picture and not one is a banker. I first discovered it when a friend came to meet me for lunch towards the end of last year. He had been to Mark Neville’s exhibition at the Alan Cristea Gallery and was amused to spot me in the photograph, so he brought the catalogue for me to flick through. I found it funny and figured no one would see it, as it was only in an art exhibition. But then a review of the show was published in a national newspaper, with the headline “A growing disparity between the haves and have-nots” and this photograph, alongside a photo of a member of Occupy London. I eventually received an email chain that had been doing the rounds among my friends and others, identifying who was in the picture. The subject was “a wunch of bankers”. Everyone in the photograph actually works in insurance, but I don’t think it matters what we do for a living. I am standing outside a pub, having a beer, not drinking champagne on a penthouse rooftop in Knightsbridge. But the way it was used in the exhibition was to comment on class divide in the UK. Banker is no longer a job title, it has become more of an accusation. By using it to describe me, the photographer lumped me in with society’s ills. Yes, I am wearing a suit and I have a job, but I don’t feel I represent the evils of the banking industry. Going through the catalogue, I noticed that only two of the photographs, including this one, contain a description of the people in the title, rather than just the place where they were taken. The other one is Bankers at Bijou Nightclub. It was either a Christmas or New Year’s Eve – I remember everyone finished work early and met for a beer at the New Moon pub, before heading home for a few days off. My son is standing next to me. He had a holiday job in town and I knew his employers, so they invited me along for a drink with their team. He was 17, and would rarely invite me for a drink with him, and vice versa, so it is funny that on the few occasions I have been for a beer with him, one was photographed and put in a gallery. My wife had warned me that morning not to let him get too drunk, but I did not want to be overbearing. As it turns out, we are both shown “double parking” (holding two pint glasses). I remember a guy on a step ladder taking this, but no one paid him any attention. It is a public space, so I accept he can take whatever picture he likes and use it wherever he sees fit, but he didn’t ask us who we are. He could have labelled the photograph “Insurance People Outside the New Moon”, but I don’t suppose that would have the same connotations. I did think it might be fun to own a copy, so I called the gallery to ask the price. It was such a ridiculous amount (I was quoted £14,400) that I thought I had misheard. If we’re talking about divides in society, it seems as though Neville or his gallery are selling to only one half. I would like him to carry on displaying this image. I just wish he would change the title. • Interview by Abigail Radnor Are you in a famous photograph? Email thatsme@theguardian.com |