In the Fleet Street banter of yesteryear, reporters often referred to photographers as monkeys. The nickname supposedly stemmed from the assertion that a photographer’s job involved no more than holding a box and pressing a button, which even a monkey could be trained to do. Equally false claim was that “snappers” – another derisive epithet – spent time up trees. No matter that trees were rarely available at newsworthy events. It is true that photographers have always striven to get above the crowd, and one of their accessories has been stepladders. But they’ve been overshadowed by a new form of photographic elevation: drones. In the past half-dozen years, pictures taken by flying cameras have become common in Britain’s national newspapers and magazines. The monkeys have become seagulls.

Fiona Shields, head of photography at The Guardian, says all major news agencies now include drone images in their photographic content. “It plays a significant part in helping us to understand world events, like the epic destruction in Gaza and the devastating effects of Hurricane Milton across Florida, especially where scale is relevant.” Aside from drones being able to penetrate dangerous areas, they also eliminate risks for photographers. They no longer have to dangle perilously out of helicopter doors to get their shots. And they reduce expense, obviating the need to hire planes.

One of the first photojournalists to use drones was Chris Gorman, who offers his images to newspapers on an almost daily basis. He dates his conversion to 2017 and has since won a considerable reputation for the quality of his output through his company, Big Ladder Photography. Geddit? A couple of picture editors I contacted regard him as the stand-out exponent of this new form. His portfolio is impressive, illustrating the way in which subjects become more interesting when shot from a fresh vantage point.

They are not news pictures in the traditional sense, although his Covid coverage, especially the scenes of London’s deserted bridges and Birmingham’s Spaghetti Junction devoid of traffic, illustrated the story of the shut-down better than any writer could have done. Similarly, his depictions of a fuel pipeline snaking its way through the Surrey countryside

or rubbish-strewn fields after the Reading Festival needed no explanatory captions. Although wishing to avoid the cliché – you know it, the one about a picture being worth a thousand words – it springs to mind when viewing Gorman’s drone photographs. His pictures blur the distinction between news and features. Some have the definite wow factor, talking points which, at their very best, have an artistic aspect that sets them apart.

Scenes that seem mundane at ground level become fascinating from above, whether they show swimmers doing lengths in a pool, ice skaters at Brighton’s Royal Pavilion, or people attending a car boot sale in Uxbridge. Shooting from on high with the sun shining down from behind his drone, he is able to use shadows to stunning effect. It means that images of a paddle boarder, a man walking his dog on Brighton seafront, a group of horse riders, and a metal detectorist scanning the sands are redolent of prehistoric cave paintings. His image of Stonehenge at sunrise on a freezing January morning resembles a moonscape. Extreme weather, most obviously floods, is better pictured from above, as are packed beaches in a heatwave.

But Gorman also managed to convey the effects of icy conditions in his vista of snowbound Glenfinnan Viaduct, on the shores of Loch Shiel in the Scottish Highlands. Described as “a beautifully composed image”, it won him a commendation in the 2020 landscape photographer of the year contest, one of four acclamations he has received in successive years. As for Gorman’s scenes of seaborne mists and sun-dappled cloud formations, Turner would surely have been impressed.

Gardens are one of his specialities. The long-dead designers of the mazes at Longleat, Leeds Castle and Hever Castle would have been delighted to see their work from overhead, as would the creators of the rose beds at Arundel Castle, the Union Flag lay-out at Penshurst Place and the sandstone rock garden in Harrogate. Such is the stunning clarity of Gorman’s pictures that it is no wonder he has been commissioned by the Royal Horticultural Society to capture its five major gardens throughout the four seasons.

Gorman is noted for his imagination and has, on occasion, moved beyond reality. For instance, above a Hampshire church, he devised a halo by taking 250 30-second images of star trails over a two-and-half-hour period. I’m not certain the Daily Mirror’s “halo, halo, halo” headline did it justice, but it illustrated a salient point about Gorman’s adoption of drones. They are merely tools. What counts is how he uses them.

With some 30 years’ experience behind him as a photographer, Gorman views drone photography as the greatest innovation since the advent of the digital revolution. He was quick to seize on the opportunities it offered. He says: “It enables us to see the world from a completely different perspective. The camera can go to places that photographers can’t, which is such a huge advantage.” He waxes lyrical about the benefits of offering bird’s eye views of previously inaccessible locations. It allows people to see patterns and formations they didn’t know existed.

Shields agrees. “It has revealed to us the beauty of the natural world,” she says. “I also think that without drone photography we wouldn’t have the informed view of human impact on the environment that we do today.”

There are no short cuts to joining The Drones Club

Before everyone rushes out to buy a drone, Gorman stresses that, aside from the skills required to operate drones, there are laws and rules that must be obeyed. Gorman is a fully qualified Civil Aviation Authority pilot and doesn’t send up his drone without ensuring that he has obtained the correct authorisation. And that’s often far from straightforward. When he

shot the winter wonderland fair in London’s Hyde Park last Christmas, he had to square it with air traffic control, the Met police, the charity that runs the royal parks, and the event organisers. That involved a month’s planning. Safety is another concern. Ever since the drone drama that brought Gatwick Airport to a standstill in 2018, stricter measures have been enforced by the authorities. It is illegal to fly drones in central London without prior permission, and that often takes a week to sort out, which effectively rules out using drones for breaking news stories. So, although Gorman monitors the news agenda, he has to get creative to illustrate stories.

It helps that Gorman has not only taken photos but spent several years as a picture editor, at the New Zealand Herald and the London Evening Standard, with more years as a freelance. With that experience and knowledge, he tends to know what works and what newspapers want. As a result, his work has appeared in every national paper and a host of magazines, and not just in Britain. The Times, having run a special presentation of Gorman’s drone images, “England from above”, is particularly appreciative of his work. Matt Fearn, head of pictures at The Times and Sunday Times, says: “Chris was an early adopter of drone photography and has pursued, and achieved, excellence in his chosen art form ever since.” He argues that Gorman has combined a mastery of the technical and practical aspects with his photographic skill. It’s why he is “the first person most picture editors call when they need something shot from the air”.

Elliot Wagland, pictures chief at the London Evening Standard, is also appreciative. He points out that Gorman “has turned an already successful photographic news career into an even more successful one with his newfound aerial career”. In his view, Gorman “has been a real innovator who pushes the boundaries of drone photography with every idea and meticulously planned shot, even down to the weather”.

Then there are the machines. Most drone photographers are happy with a sub-250-gram quadcopter while Gorman generally flies a machine weighing close to one kilo. It’s a DJI Mavic 3 bearing a 20-megapixel Hasselblad camera. Gorman must maintain a line of sight with his drone, known by the acronym GVC. It is not a case of sending up the drone on some unspecified voyage of discovery. The key is knowing what you wish to achieve. And, as you would expect in Britain, there’s the weather factor. “Weather is crucial for all my pictures,” says Gorman. “The conditions have to be just right and that requires patience along with the planning.”

With the altitude comes the confident attitude of a man who has carved out a niche as the go-to man in the field. He likes to pass on his knowledge by running drone photography masterclasses. And, of course, he doesn’t just take still photographs. He shoots video from the air too. There are plenty of competitors waiting in the wings, or should that be waiting for their wings. As Wagland says: “Many are trying to follow in his (flight) path.”