For Sharon Latham, photography was never something she simply picked up and put down. It entered her life when she was eight years old and never really left. Her father, a keen amateur landscape photographer, gave her both her first camera and, unknowingly, a lifelong calling. When he died shortly after her eighth birthday, that camera became more than an object. It became a connection, a way of staying close to him, and a constant presence in her everyday life. Even now, she says there has never been a day since that she hasn’t taken photographs.
Those early years were defined by trial and error. Armed with a small Zenith camera and very little technical understanding, Sharon’s first images were often blank or blurred. What she lacked in knowledge, she made up for in persistence. Books became her teachers, curiosity her guide, and by her teenage years she had honed her skills enough to upgrade her camera. Photography was no longer something she did; it was something she was.
Despite that lifelong relationship with the camera, professional photography was never part of her plan. For years, it remained a passion rather than a career. It was only later in life, after the end of her second marriage and with her children grown, that she reached a crossroads. She realised that if she didn’t at least try to turn her passion into her work, she would regret it forever. That decision led her from Manchester to Liverpool, with a single aim: to break into the music scene.
What followed was a period of relentless work. Sharon offered her services anywhere she could, from open mic nights and recording studios to small local venues. She worked, in her own words, “stupidly hard”, driven by the need to learn and to be present. During this time, another door opened unexpectedly when she became involved with non-league football team AFC Liverpool. Sports photography, something she hadn’t previously considered, quickly became a love of its own. Following the team through their inaugural season, she discovered that photography didn’t need to fit neatly into one category. Music and sport could coexist, each feeding a different creative instinct.
From there, momentum built quickly. Freelance work followed with non-league football teams, schools, rugby clubs, and anywhere else that would welcome her. Evenings were still dedicated to music venues, theatres, and festivals. Opportunities began to overlap, each one leading to the next. A turning point came after she photographed a Tim Minchin concert in Liverpool. His agent requested the images, and soon after, Sharon received an email asking to purchase one. That first sale became her first true wake-up call. Photography was no longer just passion; it was possibility.
Further freelance work at the Manchester International Festival led to her work being noticed, and soon she was offered the chance to shoot a trial game at Manchester City FC. What followed was a moment she still speaks about with disbelief. Initially hired on a freelance basis, Sharon later applied for a full-time photographer role when it was advertised. Competing against around sixty other photographers, she secured the position, becoming the first woman to hold such a role at a Premier League club.
The achievement came with both pride and pressure. Sharon was acutely aware of the responsibility she carried for women in the industry, stepping into a role no woman had held before. What mattered most to her, though, was being told she earned the job because of her skill, not her gender. That acknowledgement cemented her sense of achievement and belonging.
Working in a predominantly male environment brought its own challenges. Some grounds and training facilities didn’t even have female toilets. Walking onto a pitch alongside twenty-seven male footballers could easily have been intimidating, but Sharon refused to shrink herself. She met banter with banter, confidence with confidence, and over time earned trust and respect. In her view, you cannot be a quiet wallflower in a male-dominated space. Without confidence, you don’t get the images, and without trust, you don’t get access to the moments others miss.
The pressure to prove herself was constant, not just among players, but also staff and fellow photographers. Being a club photographer, she explains, involves far more than taking pictures. It means managing photographic archives, designing kit shoots, planning marketing campaigns, and carrying the visual identity of an entire club. Through it all, she learned a defining truth about herself: gender is not an obstacle when skill, conviction, and passion lead the way. She has never allowed anyone to undermine her work, her work ethic, or her abilities.
Sharon’s images are known for capturing raw, defining moments, and that ability comes from both instinct and preparation. On the football pitch, movement is restricted. You cannot chase the action, so you must read the game, anticipate emotion, and hope that when the moment comes, the players run towards you. Brightly coloured hats help players spot her among the crowd of photographers, though celebration doesn’t always follow the plan. Behind the scenes, however, she finds greater freedom. Training grounds and off-site visits allow her to capture quieter, more human moments where emotion unfolds naturally.
Music photography, she says, is a completely different world. Her love of live music runs deep, encompassing everything from the lights and crowds to the energy of the artists themselves. Preparation is key. She researches performers, studies how they move on stage, how they engage with fans, and builds a mental wish list of shots before the gig begins. Long lenses give her flexibility when access is limited, and she adapts constantly to challenging lighting, sometimes switching to black and white to preserve the integrity of the image.
At the heart of all her work is a simple philosophy: what would a fan most like to see? That question guides every decision she makes behind the camera. By putting the audience first, she creates images that resonate on multiple levels. Fans want to see their heroes as real people, smiling, expressive, human. Her love of black and white photography further strips moments back to their emotional core.
In high-pressure environments where moments last milliseconds, Sharon relies on knowing her equipment inside out. When it comes to people, however, she lives by the eighty–twenty rule: twenty per cent technical skill and eighty per cent personality. Without connection, trust, and rapport, the best technical setup in the world won’t deliver meaningful images.
One moment that still feels surreal took place on the Pyramid Stage at Glastonbury with Noel Gallagher. Before the gig, Gallagher told her he wanted the crowd captured, not himself. Positioned behind drummer Chris Sharrock, Sharon crawled across the stage between songs, popping up to capture angles wherever she could. When Noel finally turned around to face the audience, the scale and emotion of the moment overwhelmed her. Sitting on the stage floor afterwards, she remembers thinking, “What the hell is your life?”
Despite the perception of glamour surrounding celebrity photography, Sharon is quick to dismantle the myth. Red carpet events are crowded, competitive, and stressful. Deadlines are unforgiving. She recalls countless hours sitting on cold floors with Wi-Fi dongles, frantically sending images to agencies. Glamour, she says, is rarely part of the reality.
Emotional intuition underpins everything she does. Understanding who she is photographing, why she is there, and what story needs to be told is essential. Her greatest compliment comes from music lovers who say they feel they can truly see who an artist is through her images.
Looking forward, Sharon is clear about what still needs to change. There need to be more women in creative and sports media, particularly in sport, where representation remains low. Her advice to young women is direct and honest: if you love what you do, show up. Push your work. Compete. The right place and the right time only matter if you are already there.
Beyond photography, Sharon’s creativity continues to expand. Exhibitions, print sales, and app development reflect both her ambition and her desire to showcase the full range of her skills. She chooses projects she believes in, both creatively and financially, and commits to them fully. Failure, she believes, is simply part of learning.
After more than thirty years behind the camera, Sharon is proud not just of being a woman in a man’s world, but of making a living from something she loves and sharing that joy with others. Home, for her, is family. Her grown children and grandchildren, proud of her journey, remain her grounding force.
The loss of her father continues to shape her life and work. Using his camera as a child helped her feel close to him, and she believes he would be proud of where that connection led. Away from the lens, she describes herself as an excellent swimmer, surprisingly funny, and even a former stand-up performer.
If there is one lesson she holds above all others, it is this: talent and skill mean nothing without honesty, humanity, and connection. And if she could speak to her younger self, camera in hand and unsure of the future, her message would be simple. Keep going. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t. Because you can.