The times we live in may be remembered as the age of humble fruit. Between them, the eponymous brands Apple and Orange enable the work or play of billions of people worldwide. Yet do we have any idea who makes the decisions behind these giant, fruit-themed corporations? My own story with Apple began in 1999 with a first generation iMac G3 (I feel nostalgic about it even now) and I knew then that its novel, bright blue existence was enabled by decisions taken by Steve Jobs (a delightfully understated household name). But since Mr Jobs passed away and out of the headlines, I’ve not known who has been behind my work and entertainment tools… until a few weeks ago.
Godfather of iTunes
I was commissioned to make a portrait of Eddy Cue, Apple’s Senior Vice President. Reporting to CEO Tim Cook (Jobs’s replacement bears an equally low-key name – company policy?), Eddy is the man ultimately responsible for Apple Services – and there are an Apple lot of them. In the late 80s, Eddy made his name launching iTunes. Today he runs: Apple Music; Apple TV; Apple Film; Apple Podcasts; Apple iCloud – for you to store all this fun entertainment – and Apple Pay – for you to pay for it. He himself is ‘annually compensated’ to the tune of double-figure millions, and my photoshoot with him was as challenging as photographing a highly recognisable A-list celebrity can be, with the added spice of a Formula One racetrack, gale-force winds and a car collision thrown in.
Mr Cue: the man behind your Apple music, stories, films, cloud and virtual wallet
F1 film
It was late May and the French Riviera was buzzing. The Cannes Film festival was in full swing and, over in Monaco, where I was to photograph Eddy, the Grand Prix was revving up. It’s a busy time for photographers and VIPs, who flit between the two, and if anyone needed to be present at both this year, it was Eddy Cue. ‘F1’, “THE blockbuster film of 2025“, is Apple’s own production and its most expensive yet – indeed one of the most expensive films ever made, period. It was due to open in cinemas globally and press activity was peaking. My client, Bloomberg Business Week, was interested in the strategic perspective of this significantly risky new investment for Apple (a rather different direction to selling iPhones), and the crucial involvement of Formula One superstar Lewis Hamilton. Racing sequences were adapted from real-life races, F1 teams and drivers appear in the film and Lewis (a regular fixture in Monaco – see a previous portrait of him here) is a co-producer.
A walk in the park…
…is what it was meant to be. The portraits would appear in the magazine’s regular ‘A Walk With…’ feature. We’d have pretty limited time – just 45 minutes had been granted for both writer (who flew to France from LA for this interview) and photographer. Yet there would be just enough time for me to go outdoors and take portraits of Eddy and Lewis, separately and together, posed and talking.
This kind of ‘casual’ shoot takes a deceptive degree of forward planning – even in a regular location, let alone Monaco, with its unique restrictions for photographers and an international Formula One championship in progress. Yet no advance planning happened at all, because, much to my picture editor’s chagrin, Eddy’s PR team, having confirmed the date, vague location (‘Monaco’) and time of the photoshoot, then ceased to engage in any communication whatsoever. I learned only hours before where Eddy and his team were staying -the Hôtel de Paris in Monte Carlo – and that the photos would have to be taken within a 2 minute walk of it. My heart sank – the hotel, one of the most expensive in Monaco, if not in France, is located on Casino Square, a heavily police-patrolled zone (photographers beware!), and the road in front becomes part of the actual Grand Prix circuit. Crowds? Road closures? Apple People finally got in touch, saying they had found a ‘great portrait spot!’, sending a selfie that a team member had taken on the street to direct me. I realised immediately that this particular patch of tarmac would have dozens of cars driving over it at 180 miles an hour by the time of the photoshoot, when the first laps were scheduled. An emphatic “No go” was sent back, urgent requests were made, but Apple People disappeared again.
‘The good old days of slapping people are over’
I arrived early with my assistant, Chloë, to see if there were any outdoor spots nearby where I could make portraits at a pinch. There weren’t. A conversation with one of the many police officers standing outside the hotel confirmed, albeit kindly, that within a generous perimeter, I would be shut down within minutes of getting out my camera and lights. He then proceeded to expound on how sad it was that neither he nor his colleagues could slap sense into idiotic Grand Prix goers any more – now that everyone has “damn iPhones” and uploads video to social media, the good old days were over. It was my second unsatisfactory exchange with a Monégasque policeman that morning: before I’d even parked, while stationary at red traffic lights, a car behind had abruptly driven into mine with a large bang. The onlooking policeman had blown his whistle and told me gruffly that I needed to pull onto the pavement and ‘settle it myself’ with the large, wound-up -idiotic Grand Prix goer? – driver. It apparently wasn’t his remit to help me in any way whatsoever.
It seemed now that the only possibility left was to shoot inside the hotel – presuming Apple People had actioned the magazine’s request to arrange a permit for photography beforehand. Yet even getting in to look round was a challenge. The hotel’s front entrance, opening onto the racetrack, had been sealed off. At the side entrance, an accreditation badge, issued in advance, was now needed just to access the hotel lobby (a fact Apple People had apparently not thought it relevant to communicate to either photographer or writer). It didn’t help that when I’d crossed the Monaco border that morning, an irritating instance of the principality’s hand-of-God telecommunications control had blocked my phone’s mobile data – a second humble fruit became engaged to a swearword in my speech, as my main communication channels were no longer available.
Who would know a gale had been blowing?
Eleventh hour no-show
Determination and patience, along with an understanding hotel employee, had eventually got us emergency access badges and, thanks to instinct rather than telecommunications, we found the clutch of Apple People in the lounge. By then, I was not surprised to learn that (a fact delivered amid casual opening conversation about croissants and the heat), Lewis Hamilton wasn’t actually going to come. The writer’s facial expression was not one he would’ve liked to store in his Apple Photos. ‘A Walk With...’ was out of the window, the main premise for the article had suddenly evaporated and I knew it now would likely turn into a smaller business article at best (sure enough, it ended up ‘online only’, the lowest rung of the editorial status ladder).
As for the location for photos, “I’m sure we can do it on the terrace“, represented the sum total of preparations. I tried to keep my voice even, as I explained I would need time to set up – a minimum of 30 minutes preparation and light testing for 10-15 minutes portraits in the two set-ups my client required. Apple Eyebrows arose in mock horror, as we took the lift up to the top floor.
Red alert wind warning
The narrow terrace in full sun next to the hotel’s packed breakfast buffet wasn’t going to work, either for me, or for the hotel’s communication manager. She had been called and had somewhat ruffled feathers. While the Apple People got into “Do you know who we are?” mode, I quietly stepped away and signaled to Chloë to follow. We hopped over a floral barrier and began setting up on an empty corporate suite’s terrace next door. It had shade (I didn’t want Eddy to be blinded and squinting in the sun), nobody eating pain au chocolat and enough space for my lights. It would do. The argument behind me was gaining volume, as apparently what I was doing “could not be done“, but I left the Apple People to manage things and they seemingly did (everything has a price).
Eddy eventually arrived an hour late (or did he? An hour seems awfully precise, and he didn’t arrive wearing the dramatic cloak of a late person. I suspected strategic journalist / photographer disinformation). Over the minutes of waiting, I’d been anxiously observing the sky. Red alert weather warnings had been issued for midday, which was rapidly approaching, on account of the extremely strong wind that was due. Sure enough, the gusts was getting up to a startling strength, and even in the relatively protected enclosure of the terrace, my flash umbrella had become unusable. Chloë was even struggling to keep her feet on the floor holding a small reflector panel, and I had a brief, unpleasant vision of her sailing off into the blue.
The magazine’s picture choice… how many watches do you see?
Portraits in a flash
Eddy’s arrival, with a swirling entourage of new Apple People, was worthy of an A-list celebrity. No-one introduced themselves, and as our 45 minute slot for both portraits and the subsequent interview after me was now down to less than half an hour, I didn’t waste time asking. Within seconds, one Apple Person was fussing over Eddy’s shirt (it had clearly been taken out of a packet that morning…”OMG I think you can see the creases! You need to Photoshop them out!“); another asked why we weren’t doing the photos in the bar downstairs (“It’d be so much better; you can see the cars driving past outside!“); the loudest was clamoring “OK you’ve got 2 minutes MAX!!‘)
I could barely hear Eddy, or make myself heard, over the screeching of the Apple People, the screaming of the wind and the revving of racing cars rising from the road below. Yet fortunately he was pleasant and amenable, attentively followed my gesticulated directions, and, bizarrely but thankfully, his hair didn’t move at all, despite the alarming gale. I took a quick variety of shots on the terrace with Monaco in view, before moving swiftly to the second, context-less backdrop of the decorative wall screen alongside. I ignored a disembodied voice close to my ear, yelling “Stop! That’s enough! Done! Finish!”, as did Eddy, and I took a few last shots. As I released him, having just enough frames to send a bare minimum assignment edit to the picture desk, the same voice broke in again, less rushed….to ask if I could take a snap of her and Eddy on her iPhone, by the view? I was at a loss for words.
How many watches?
Light testing – and slightly more evidence of a gale
It wasn’t until I was editing the pictures that I had the time to observe a detail I’d missed. It looked as though Eddy had been wearing two (Apple?) watches, one on each wrist. Apart from confirming to me that he can’t have been late (someone who wears two watches is unlikely to be sloppy about time), I wondered why. An insider’s lack of faith in Apple products, anticipating that one will fail? A finely-attuned need in a chaotic world to feel his body balanced, for each arm to weigh exactly the same? Or a vice president’s oversized consumption of time, data and entertainment, that will not fit into one single Apple watch? It seemed a distinctly human question, after my Apple Day, and one to which, sadly, I will probably never know the answer.
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