Editor: this article was published in the Guardian newspaper on Friday February 12 2016, within
the "That's me in the picture" series.
Jane Rangeley is snapped by Henri Cartier-Bresson, Paris, 1973
A huge owl was being bombarded by little birds. The moment we moved away, I said: ‘Why was that man taking our photograph?’
‘ The Jardin des Plantes was a favourite place for a stroll.’ Photograph: Henri Cartier-Bresson/Magnum
When I got home, I immediately started looking for a job in Paris,
where he was studying medicine. My Dad promised me the airfare if I
could arrange an interview. In the end, I saw an ad from Unesco, which
was looking for secretaries. I did all the tests in London, got the job,
and went over in early 1973.
We lived together for six years. On Sundays, we often went for a stroll. The Jardin des Plantes, or botanical gardens, where this photograph was taken, was a favourite. It had an ancient zoo, and I had probably taken along the baguette in my pocket to feed the animals. We had stopped to look up at a kerfuffle going on in the trees: a huge owl, possibly escaped from the zoo, was being bombarded by little birds.
The moment we moved away, I said, “Why was that man taking our photograph?” He was short, discreetly dressed and semi-hidden by a tree. I have since read that Henri Cartier-Bresson often waited by trees in Parisian parks for the perfect image to present itself. But I thought nothing of it at the time.
The following year, in May 1974, one of my boyfriend’s friends spotted the photograph in a magazine called Zoom. It appeared in a feature about Leica cameras: they showed 27 camera models alongside a photograph taken with each one, many of them by a well-known photographer. Ours was the last. I still have a copy.
I was thrilled, and flattered. I knew about Cartier-Bresson and admired his work. I liked that he always showed a little bit of humour in his photographs, and never allowed them to be cropped. I have not stopped telling people about it since.
Before I returned to London, in 1979, I wanted to get a copy of the photograph. I called Zoom, who gave me the number for Magnum, the agency that Cartier-Bresson co-founded; they gave me his home number. I was shy, but I managed to ask him for two copies before I hung up. He was very friendly. Many years later, after I met his agent at the Paris Art Fair, he signed my photograph for me.
I love this picture. Its beauty lies both in the avenue of trees and the relaxed joy on our faces. It was a happy time for me; I had been in Paris for only a few months. We may not have worked out, but my French boyfriend and I remain in touch to this day.
• Are you in a famous photograph? Email thatsme@theguardian.com
We lived together for six years. On Sundays, we often went for a stroll. The Jardin des Plantes, or botanical gardens, where this photograph was taken, was a favourite. It had an ancient zoo, and I had probably taken along the baguette in my pocket to feed the animals. We had stopped to look up at a kerfuffle going on in the trees: a huge owl, possibly escaped from the zoo, was being bombarded by little birds.
The moment we moved away, I said, “Why was that man taking our photograph?” He was short, discreetly dressed and semi-hidden by a tree. I have since read that Henri Cartier-Bresson often waited by trees in Parisian parks for the perfect image to present itself. But I thought nothing of it at the time.
The following year, in May 1974, one of my boyfriend’s friends spotted the photograph in a magazine called Zoom. It appeared in a feature about Leica cameras: they showed 27 camera models alongside a photograph taken with each one, many of them by a well-known photographer. Ours was the last. I still have a copy.
I was thrilled, and flattered. I knew about Cartier-Bresson and admired his work. I liked that he always showed a little bit of humour in his photographs, and never allowed them to be cropped. I have not stopped telling people about it since.
Before I returned to London, in 1979, I wanted to get a copy of the photograph. I called Zoom, who gave me the number for Magnum, the agency that Cartier-Bresson co-founded; they gave me his home number. I was shy, but I managed to ask him for two copies before I hung up. He was very friendly. Many years later, after I met his agent at the Paris Art Fair, he signed my photograph for me.
I love this picture. Its beauty lies both in the avenue of trees and the relaxed joy on our faces. It was a happy time for me; I had been in Paris for only a few months. We may not have worked out, but my French boyfriend and I remain in touch to this day.
• Are you in a famous photograph? Email thatsme@theguardian.com
