Well at just after 1am I was at home, still with the smell of smoke in my nose, the sensation of movement from the car M62 homebound and many happy memories of Imogen Heap in Manchester earlier that evening. What a beautiful gig.


But I nearly got thrown out, because my camera was too big apparently. Not because it flashed distractingly, or because it makes an irritating, artificial shutter releasing sound. No, just because it was of too high quality for a simple member of the public to be wielding.

Was it because security thought that I was taking shots that should be reserved for members of the press? Because holding such a large camera was preventing me from enjoying the performance more than if I was struggling to get a decent picture with my phone? Who knows? But while it was just fine for the dozens snapping away with digicams and phones all around me, I was firmly beckoned from my seat (in the middle of a row, disrupting everyone I had to push past...) by a sternly officious looking security-usher who then asked me to put away the D100. Because the artist had requested that 'professional cameras' not be used in the theatre.

Because Immi only wants grainy, blurry shots on her Moblog?
Because she hates nice kit?
Is taking pictures of a performance rude? OK, maybe we should just sit back and give 100% of our attention to what is going on? But perhaps part of the fun is taking something other than memories away?


I guess it doesn't really matter. Anyway, I didn't get my kit confiscated. And nor did it stop me from enjoying a wonderful set, by an artist whose albums have me totally captivated, and whose intimate live performance was a step up from that, just out of this world. Not least because of her mastery of the piles of kit on her stage, or because she mutters to herself in a most endearing way between songs. How nice to see another great artist who so loves playing for her fans.