The photographer's name was Jonas and he arrived on a Saturday morning with two assistants and an amount of equipment that seemed optimistic for a two-hour session in a private apartment. He was Scandinavian, methodical, and had the particular quality of attention that the best photographers had — a way of seeing a room not as it was but as it would be in a particular light, from a particular angle, at a particular moment.Alexander was already in position when Jonas arrived, which was how Alexander prepared for things — thoroughly and in advance and without visible effort, so that the preparation was invisible by the time the moment arrived. He was at the kitchen island in a dark shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, with the FT in front of him, and he looked like what the magazine wanted: a man at home in his home, which was technically true and technically not the whole truth.Elijah let Jonas in and they spent the first twenty minutes on logistics — light readings, sight lines, a walkt
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