As his time as BSC President draws to a close, Christopher Ross BSC reflects on a period of renewal as well as industry upheaval, highlighting why greater inclusion and a supportive creative community are essential for the future of cinematography.
Coda
/ˈkəʊdə/
noun
- the concluding passage of a piece or movement, typically forming an addition to the basic structure.
- a person (in the majority of cases a hearing person) who has one or more parents who are deaf or hard of hearing.
By the time this edition reaches readers, my tenure as President of the British Society of Cinematographers will have come to an end, and the responsibility passed to the brilliant Oliver Stapleton BSC. Having worked closely with Oliver for the past four years, and been the privileged recipient of his knowledge, experience and thoughtful presence, I am confident he will lead the BSC towards a bright future. For now, however, I have one final responsibility: attempting to frame the last four years with some kind of perspective.
Stepping away naturally invites reflection, not only on the past four years but on how they sit within a much longer history. The BSC wears its 77 years with a proud remembrance, in the knowledge that our past and future will always coalesce in reverence of our craft. The past four years have been an unusual period for our global industry—defined by uncertainty, disruption and recalibration—but cinematography and its practitioners have endured, emerging with renewed purpose.
A global pandemic brought a full industry shutdown, followed by rapid expansion of streaming corporations and the globalisation of their content. This welcome surge injected much-needed wind into the industry’s sails, only for industrial disputes two years later bringing production to a halt once again. This feast-or-famine filmmaking cycle felt like a potentially vicious adversary. Thankfully, the past 18 months suggest a return to steadier growth, but, as ever, the only constant we can rely on is change.
Periods of instability often provoke questions about reinvention, and it can be tempting in moments of rapid change to frame cinematography as a technical discipline in constant need of re-evaluation. But the truth is simpler. While imaging tools evolve, the underlying creative questions remain consistent: What does the story need? Whose point of view are we honouring? What does the audience need to feel, and when? These are not technological problems to solve, but artistic ones to explore.
This is where creativity asserts its quiet authority. In an era of increasingly abundant, instantly consumable content, the challenge is not to create images that merely impress, but that are purposeful and invite audiences to feel rather than simply observe.
The capacity to translate emotion into visual language is learned through experience, empathy and a lifelong attention to the world. Cinematography does not begin with a camera, light or lens; it begins with curiosity. With the quiet, solitary act of looking. Our craft is inherently interpretive, shaped by memory, instinct and emotional intelligence.
That human, interpretive approach is reflected daily within society. BSC members share a deep respect for cinematography as a lived practice; an art and a way of life. Throughout my presidency, I have been continually delighted to observe this community’s generosity: the willingness to mentor, share knowledge and engage in thoughtful debate about the meaning of our work. It has been a privilege to work on behalf of this community and witness the industry’s evolution at close range.
Fresh visual languages
However, celebration alone would make this incomplete. Reflection also asks us to acknowledge where work remains and progress is needed. Creativity flourishes through diversity of perspective, yet many voices are still absent from our industry. For differently-abled filmmakers, the barriers to participation are rarely creative; they are systemic. Expectations around physical endurance, set culture and working practices have been shaped around a narrow definition of who a cinematographer is allowed to be, limiting both access and collective imagination.
This lack of representation is not only an equity issue, but an artistic one. Differently-abled practitioners experience the world in ways that can profoundly enrich visual storytelling. Different perceptions of space, time, movement or intimacy will translate into fresh visual languages if given the opportunity. When such voices are absent from our sets, the choir of filmmaking is quietly constrained.
True accessibility begins with intention: designing navigable sets, fostering flexible crews and cultivating a culture that values difference. A truly diverse industry requires visibility—seeing differently-abled filmmakers not only enter the profession, but advance within it, shape conversations, and receive recognition. Creativity thrives where people feel they belong, and this belonging should never be conditional.
The progress of recent years demonstrates that inclusion strengthens rather than dilutes creative standards. Similar progress will depend on sustained attention and collective responsibility. The BSC has an important role to continue playing here—as a forum where dialogue leads to action, and where care for the craft includes care for those who practise it.
These values are deeply embodied in Oliver Stapleton. As I pass on the presidency, I do so with confidence and optimism. Oliver understands instinctively that cinematography is a human endeavour before it is anything else. He values collaboration, artistic encouragement, and our filmmaking community. Under his leadership I am certain the Society will continue to evolve positively.
The future of cinematography will undoubtedly involve tools we cannot yet imagine. But the future of cinematographers depends on something far more familiar: our ability to collaborate, mentor, adapt and remain human in our approach—to be our authentic creative selves.
As I step down from the presidency, I do so with gratitude: for the honour of serving the Society, for the trust placed in me, and for the privilege of practising a craft that continues to inspire and excite me. Cinematography endures because it is rooted in human experience. As an unwritten future unfolds, let us continue to make our craft vital, in every sense.
