An English photographer whose path winds through the raw immediacy of photojournalism and the poetic subtlety of documentary storytelling, McInnes looks beyond the surface, uncovering narratives hidden in the most unexpected corners of the sports world.

From his early days immersed in protest photography in London to capturing the very soul of sports without ever focusing on the game itself, McInnes brings to life an approach to photography that’s both deeply personal and profoundly human. His work is a love letter to the emotions that unite us all—an ongoing act of discovery, one community at a time.

TRUSTING THE PHOTOGRAPHIC PROCESS. From human geography studies to the first steps in photography 

“I grew up in Colchester, in Essex, northeast of London, and later studied my undergrad in Leeds, up in the north of England. I had a degree in human geography—nothing to do with photography, which has always interested me since childhood. I was 23, fully immersed in studies, hardly working, and completely unsure of how to transition into being a full-time photographer. But one thing was clear: that’s what I wanted to do, or at least try to make it into a career.

While at university, I took any photography job I could get, mostly shooting at nightclubs and events. Looking back, I felt lucky to be getting paid to hold a camera, but event photography wasn’t really my thing—I knew that. It’s funny though, because now I realize how much that experience trained me to be reactive in certain situations. It’s a strength I rely on now—the ability to react to what’s unfolding around me.

Soon after, my granddad passed away and left me a small inheritance, which I used to pursue a postgraduate degree in photojournalism and documentary photography at the London College of Communication, it was then that my passion for photography really took off. I remember spending entire days studying the classic photojournalists of the ’50s, the Magnum photographers. I fell in love with the approach to visual storytelling of these pioneers and I became obsessed with the process of 35mm black-and-white street photography.

What I discovered during the course was that, while I didn’t learn much in terms of new technical skills (though the teachers were fantastic), the real value was in the connections I made. The course brought together a unique mix of people—students like me, fresh out of college and new to photography, as well as seasoned photojournalists in their 50s, including an award-winning Japanese photographer who had come to study in the UK. That diversity made a real impact on me, and it was one of the things I truly appreciated. It helped me grow as a photographer.”

PHOTOJOURNALISM. Early works, protests, magazines, and new opportunities

“I started emailing every magazine in the UK that I admired, hoping to get some help—and, to my surprise, some actually did. I cut my teeth in protest photography in the UK. Living in London, I found myself amidst protests every weekend. I remember covering the Syria protests and, of course, the Black Lives Matter movement… I photographed everything, from climate change rallies to far-right demonstrations. My first commissioned protest shoot was for a magazine called Huck, covering a far right anti-immigration rally in Dover—an absolutely wild story.

It was my girlfriend’s birthday, and I was with a photographer friend from university. We unknowingly walked straight into the middle of a right-wing group at this protest. Dressed in black and sporting nose rings, we probably looked like we belonged to the other side. I ended up getting punched in the face by a neo-Nazi, and on the way home, I called my girlfriend and said, ‘For your birthday, I’m going to look a little different.’ That was my first paid photojournalism gig.

During this period I was also working as an assistant in a photography studio in Shoreditch. I was still deeply immersed in the world of photojournalism and reportage, but I soon realized that the commercial world was also essential if I wanted to build a sustainable career. Photojournalism is my passion—it’s what I love—but commercial work is what pays the bills. At first, I juggled both worlds, pushing my personal creative vision while also learning the ropes of the commercial side, so I could grow in both areas.

I’m still grateful for those early magazines. They gave me so many opportunities, always open to my ideas when I pitched them. They commissioned tons of work and gave me the chance to travel—whether it was photographing protests, profiles, musicians, football games, or whatever came my way. That experience was invaluable in helping me develop my skills.”

SPORT PHOTOGRAPHY. The fascination for sports subcultures

“I had the chance to photograph my first sports-themed works quite casually. It was a small editorial for a football tournament called the CONIFA World Cup—an international soccer competition for states, minorities, stateless people, and regions not affiliated with FIFA. It was my first sports job, and I quickly realized I loved photographing sports. I think there’s something in it that connects to my roots and my photojournalistic style.

Even in sports, I saw it as just me and my camera telling the story of a unique event. My lenses focused on capturing the fans, the atmosphere, the city, and the culture—much like photojournalism. Honestly, I believe that’s my greatest strength in sports photography.

I’ve always wondered how you can photograph sports and still tell a story without photographing the game itself. How do you cover a football match and tell the story of a derby without taking any photos of the players? That’s what fascinates me. It’s the same with other types of photography. How can you portray a person without photographing their face? My answer lies in the hands, the surroundings, the objects, the details—these small puzzle pieces you can put together to create a narrative without being overly literal in your approach.

Most of the time, I’d say my photography is spontaneous. Every day is different and unique, depending on the light, the vibe, and so much more. It’s not necessarily the sport that dictates the images, but the day itself. If I’m going to a rugby match, I might have certain shots in mind—the settings, the lenses, and so on—but ultimately, it’s the flow of the day that decides the kind of photos I’ll take. Last year, I photographed the Six Nations match in Rome, and I’ll be going back in a few weeks to shoot it again. A year has passed, everything will feel new and different, though I already have a few ideas in mind.”

EXPERIENCE MAKES THE DIFFERENCE. One thing is watching a game, another is photographing it

“Experience in photography truly makes all the difference. You don’t fully appreciate the nuances of sports until you’re actually at the venue, experiencing and capturing them. 

When I was a child, I often went to watch Ipswich Town, my local team. Back then, going to those games gave me an entirely different experience than I have now. I wasn’t paying attention to the details; I was just there to enjoy the sport. But when I photographed my first game, everything changed—I started to see it differently, noticing new aspects. Now, I know exactly where to be at the right moments, where the best shots are, when to arrive and when to leave. You begin to consider all these elements when you’re photographing the sport, rather than just watching it.

I had a really special experience recently. I went to a Crystal Palace game in London with some friends, and for the first time in a long while, I went to a football match without a camera. And honestly? I really enjoyed it. I didn’t have to worry about getting the perfect shot, I could just enjoy the game with my friends—I felt like a kid again.”

WHAT PHOTOGRAPHY IS ABOUT. Digging deeper, looking for the unknown, capturing real stories

“For me, photography is all about people—this goes beyond just sports. It’s always been their emotions, their stories that have captivated me, and I believe that connection is at the heart of my love for photography.

During the summer in London, the parks are filled with fun fairs—big ferris wheels, dodgems, and the like. One day, I was walking my dog past one of these fairs when I noticed something behind the massive structures: rows of caravans belonging to the park operators and their families. They travel from one city to another with their caravans, bringing the fairs all over the UK. I immediately found them fascinating—different—and wanted to learn more about how they lived. That curiosity led me to create a project documenting their lifestyle.

I approach sports photography with the same mindset. I’m interested in the people—the fans. They’re the ones who give a sport its energy and relevance. They love the game. They believe in it and have that raw emotional connection. When I’m commissioned to shoot sports, most of the time, I don’t bother getting sideline access; I’d rather be in the stands with the fans. Because, honestly, what’s more captivating than capturing a 60-year-old man, covered in tattoos, losing his mind over a football match?

It’s funny because I’ve always been involved in sports. I started playing rugby at 18, and I grew up watching football with my friends and family. But I’ve never been a die-hard fan of any one team, and I think that’s why I’m so fascinated by fans—I don’t truly understand how they can be that invested. That’s what I’m curious about—what makes them tick? That’s what I’m searching for. When I dive into a personal project, it’s always about exploring that fascination—seeing something different, wanting to understand it, and trying to capture it. Whether it’s sports fans, fun fairs, or even rednecks in the U.S.—subcultures like these are what draw me in.

When I photograph something a bit more fringe or unconventional, it becomes more interesting to me. And people, in turn, get curious, engaged, wanting to know more because they’ve likely never seen it before. That’s what drives me to take on unconventional projects.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s amazing to have the opportunity to shoot mainstream sports like football, rugby, golf, or tennis. But I get especially excited about sports that are unique, a bit off the beaten path. Today, if you tell someone you’ve done a project on football, they won’t bat an eye… but a project on a British community practicing pigeon racing? Now that’s something different. It’s about digging deeper, looking for the unknown, and capturing what’s real.”

HAVING THE ACCESS. The empathetic side of photography

“Accessibility, in my opinion, is 90% of the job. Anyone can take a good photo with practice and experience, but getting under the surface of a group or telling a unique story—that’s a whole other level. It’s difficult, time-consuming, and sometimes, even after all that effort, you don’t succeed.

For projects like photographing fun fairs or pigeon fanciers, it took me more than a year to gain real access. Even after spending time with them, I realized I was only scratching the surface. I knew there was more to uncover, but I couldn’t quite break through. It’s frustrating, and honestly, you fail a lot because you’re not part of the community itself. You’re an outsider, and there’s a cultural barrier that’s hard to cross. It’s all about building genuine relationships, spending time with people, and earning their trust.

Luckily for me, connecting with people comes naturally. In most of my projects, after spending enough time with these communities and diving into their stories, I begin to empathize with them so deeply that suddenly, I’m no longer an outsider looking in. I’m inside, looking out. When you really get to know people, they start to relax around you. You can have a beer, go for a walk, share lunch—it’s about being with them long enough that they get used to seeing you with a camera in your hand and it doesn’t faze them. You’re not a photographer anymore; you’re a friend.

Sometimes, you don’t get that luxury. I’d say it’s easier to photograph people in a documentary project who haven’t been photographed much. You have time to build that connection, to make them feel comfortable in front of the camera. But when you’re photographing celebrities or well-known athletes, it’s a whole different ball game. You get 10 minutes with them, and in that short window, no matter how many times they’ve been in front of a camera, they have to feel comfortable with you—not just with the camera. It’s about putting them at ease, getting them to drop their guard, and just be themselves. That’s the challenge.

I once had the chance to photograph Eric Cantona, and I wanted him to laugh naturally in front of me, in those 10 minutes. It’s all about trust. Getting people to trust you—that’s not easy. It’s a skill that only gets sharper the more you do it.”

FUTURE PROJECTS. Always trying to bring something new to the table 

Right now, my focus is on exploring new ways of shooting and presenting things differently. That’s what truly drives my photography these days. Of course, the subject itself is key, but the way you present it—how you engage people and spark their curiosity—that’s equally important.

As for sports, I’ve been toying with the idea of a project that dives into some of the most quintessentially British sports—things like horses at Ascot, tennis at Wimbledon, boat races at Oxford. I want to capture that air of English nobility, all the posh and stereotypical elements, that sense of ‘Englishness’ that runs through these traditions.”