Photography
Words by Will Bentley-Hawkins
Photography & Anecdotes by Nick Bannehr
I’m going to come right out and say it—I don’t care for the monarchy. That said, you have to respect anyone who held the same job for 70 years.
On September 8, 2022, that remarkable tenure came to a sudden halt with the passing of Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Windsor, more commonly known as Queen Elizabeth II.
In the 12 days that followed, London-based photographer Nick Bannehr, originally from Sydney, roamed the UK capital, capturing the faces and moods of its people. As Nick explains,
“I wanted to create something more sociological, observing the people and the city at this significant moment. While it may not tell the Queen’s funeral story in an obvious way, it acts as an archive of the emotions, reactions, and atmosphere in London during this time.”
Nick was eager to witness those who deeply mourned the Queen and those who simply happened to be there by chance. Surprisingly, he encountered less grief and sadness than expected. Instead, he observed what he describes as “a strange, performative atmosphere, almost as if people were fulfilling an obligation.”
Waterproof disposable cameras sparked Nick’s love for photography. As a kid at the beach, he would plunge into the waves, snapping haphazard photos of his friends surfing.
“We were just scratching the surfing itch. I still remember the satisfaction of getting the instant prints back from the one-hour photo store and how excited I was. It’s something I’ll never forget.”
Cameras and technology have evolved exponentially since those salty days in the sunshine, yet for Nick, nothing beats the thrill of getting film back from the darkroom and shaping it into something cohesive.
“I find sequencing a book or a series a lot of fun—a sometimes gruelling but incredibly rewarding process… those moments of magic that jump out at you when physically moving pictures around.”
That passion for sequencing still burns brightly in Good Mourning, a striking photo book chronicling Nick’s first weeks in London. Through distinctive portraits and snapshots, Nick offers a glimpse into a city of nearly nine million at a time of sorrow, uncertainty and indifference.
One frame captures young and old perched on a plinth outside Buckingham Palace. Children play on the steps, a father and daughter sit idly eating lunch while others watch the world go by. The people in the frame don’t appear despondent or distressed; it feels like any other day. Their Queen is gone, but life goes on.
By contrast, another shot—one of Nick’s personal favourites—features a woman in a red dress gazing across at Westminster Abbey, exuding quiet strength and reflection. As she tilts her head toward the sky, she appears lost in thought, as though contemplating something far beyond the world unfolding around her. Perhaps she mourns the Queen, or perhaps she wonders what this moment means for the country’s future.
“There’s a story in her stance, a mix of pride, resolve, and perhaps vulnerability.”
Alongside these more reflective images are overt displays of emotion. One frame captures royal guards leaving Westminster Abbey, their faces etched with concern and apprehension. In another, men and women pore over lines of flowers and condolence cards, reading the handwritten messages with care.
The body of work also offers a raw, unfiltered taste of London. The shots are so tightly framed that you can almost hear the city itself—the clip-clop of footsteps, the idle chatter of parents and children, the distant hum of traffic, the wind rustling through the streets.
At the time, Nick had only just moved from Sydney. His explorations through London became what he calls an “immersive crash course into the British psyche.” For 12 days, he relied on Google Maps to navigate, often retracing his steps, waiting for those fleeting moments that told a deeper, unscripted story of a city caught between tradition and the present.
One thing that stood out to him was the intense crowd control and restrictions on movement.
“I remember trying to cross a bridge over the Thames and police couldn’t tell us why or when it would reopen. The next closest bridge was a 45-minute walk away. I remember a guy in sandals and shorts who had crossed the river from his home to get to his favourite bakery and was now stuck on the wrong side.”
The sandal-wearing fellow further challenges the stereotype that Brits are wrapped up in monarchial allegiance. Some people just want their pastries.
Another major player in the series is light. Each scene is bathed in a warm glow, giving us a heightened sense of place, as though we, the viewer, are glaring through the rangefinder. Nick has chased golden hues for many reasons. One of the most powerful I feel, is to fully illuminate pedestrians’ faces, piquing our curiosity about who they are and what stories they may have to tell.
These days, anyone can claim to be a street shooter. What makes Good Mourning intriguing is that it offers a nuanced perspective on British culture. What portion of Londoners are still loyal to the royals? Where does that see-saw sit in 2025, with traditionalists on one side and modernists on the other, and what does that mean for the nation’s identity moving forward?
Ponder this and much more as you immerse yourself in Nick Bannehr’s project. Be sure to hit play on the BTS video accompanying the stills for further insight.
Loves Dance, Film Photography, Ocean Pools, The NY Knicks & Campari Sodas.