ANNIE LEIBOVITZ
Annie Leibovitz Celebrity Photographer, Through the Lens of Reflection.
Being asked, as a professional photographer to photograph another professional photographer is a very daunting challenge… Especially when that other photography is one that I have the highest professional respect for, namely Annie Leibovitz, world renowned celebrity photographer.
It was in 1994, during the time I was living in Japan. The assignment came from Tokyo Time Out magazine. They were running an exclusive interview with Annie, timed to coincide with a major exhibition of her work being shown in Tokyo. As part of the feature, they needed a portrait to accompany the article, and I was given the privilege.
Now, photographing anyone with a strong sense of self is always a delicate process. But photographing another photographer—and not just any photographer, but one of the most iconic visual chroniclers of our age—is a challenge that requires a special kind of approach. Annie Leibovitz wasn’t just known; she was revered. The images she had created of John Lennon, Whoopi Goldberg, Meryl Streep, Bruce Springsteen, and countless others had not only shaped public perception but become cultural artefacts in themselves. I had immense respect for her, not just as a peer, but as a creative force.
Now, it was my turn to photograph her.
And needless to say, the last thing I wanted was for her not to like the photo I had taken of her…It had to be good ! To say I felt the pressure would be an understatement. I didn’t want to just take a decent photo—I needed to capture something that she would find worthy.
When the day of the shoot arrived, I was ready. However the room provided for the shoot was, to put it mildly, wholly unsuitable. Small, poorly lit, with no ambiance or architectural charm to fall back on. The kind of space that actively works against creativity.
Sensing both the limitation and opportunity in front of me, I had no intension of wasting that opportunity, so I made a suggestion. “Why don’t we take this outside?”
To my relief, Annie responded enthusiastically. There was no ego, no diva-like resistance—just an openness to the process, which I found refreshing and, truthfully, inspiring. That’s when I remembered something I’d been eyeing earlier: a particular spot outside the building, featuring a striking wall of reflective glass.
My Cameo Appearance
Now, this wasn’t just about aesthetics. I had an idea—one that was equal parts homage, mischief, and something I remembered about Alfred Hitchcock. You see, Hitchcock famously made cameo appearances in nearly all his films. That notion has stuck with me over the years, and for this shoot, I decided to do something similar.
Once we were outside, I carefully positioned Annie in front of the reflective glass wall. The light was behaving beautifully, and so was the composition. But what made the shot special to me was what Annie didn’t know at the time: I had arranged it so that I, too, was in the photograph—subtly reflected in the glass, blurry and out of focus, hovering behind her like a ghost in the frame. Not intrusive. Just present. A quiet nod, perhaps, to the mutual respect I felt. And also, if I’m honest, a small personal victory—an artistic wink from one photographer to another.
But that wasn’t the only surprise of the day.
ANNIE ON MY HARLEY
As we finished the shoot and stepped back from the reflective glass, we found ourselves on the street near the entrance of the building. Parked just outside was my pride and joy: my custom-built Harley Davidson motorcycle. Silver, black and chrome, low-slung and gleaming under the Tokyo sun.
Annie clocked it immediately. Her eyes lit up.
“Oh wow,” she said, half-joking, “Let’s take the photo on that motorbike.” Then she paused. “No… maybe not. It probably belongs to some Hell’s Angel, and he’ll kill us.”
I laughed and replied, “Actually, it’s mine.”
She grinned. “Really?”
“Really. And I’d be happy to photograph you on it.”
And so she climbed aboard. No fuss, no posturing. Just Annie, sitting confidently on the seat of my Harley, the queen of visual storytelling, now framed in a scene that felt oddly cinematic and entirely spontaneous.
IT WAS CHOSEN
That was the shot that Tokyo Time Out eventually chose to run alongside the article. Annie Leibovitz on a Harley Davidson motorcycle in Tokyo—cool, unexpected, relaxed. It wasn’t posed in the traditional sense, but it captured something real: her openness, her sense of humour, her instinctive ability to fall into character without ever breaking her authenticity.
And more than that, it captured a moment between two photographers—two people who usually work behind the scenes, now briefly brought into the spotlight together.
I’ve reflected on that shoot many times over the years. There’s something sacred about the trust exchanged when photographing someone who understands, intimately, what that process entails. Annie didn’t try to control the shoot. She didn’t ask to see the proof sheets before publication or challenge my creative decisions. She simply trusted me, the way she surely hopes her subjects trust her. That, in itself, was the highest compliment.
And if there’s one lesson I took away from photographing Annie Leibovitz, it’s this: even legends are people. Even masters of their craft are, at times, collaborators—curious, playful, open to direction, willing to be surprised.
It reminded me that no matter how many years you've spent with a camera in your hand, there’s always more to learn. Sometimes from your subjects, sometimes from your surroundings. And sometimes, from the reflection you didn’t expect to see staring back at you in the glass.
That image—Annie on the Harley—still makes me smile. Not just because she is sitting on my bike, but because it’s a good photograph, and it tells a story. And at the heart of photography, that’s all we’re really trying to do.
Gallery
Let's work together
Whether you’re hosting a corporate event, gallery, university, or photography society, David’s talks offer a rare chance to hear from one of Britain’s most accomplished photographers. Audiences leave inspired, informed, and entertained.