Latest news with #NicolaDobson
Daily Mirror
06-05-2025
- Automotive
- Daily Mirror
World's first photoshoot 'powered by plants' captures stunning images of new electric car
A unique new project has seen plant energy used to power the lighting for a professional photoshoot, offering a whole new way of creating energy The world's first photoshoot 'powered by nature ' has taken place, showcasing a whole new way of producing energy. The creative project was carried out by Dutch research and design studio Nova Innova, in partnership with PEUGEOT. Specialist photographer George Williams was on hand to capture the first-of-its kind images, which will be displayed at London's Saatchi Gallery. So how does this new way of creating energy work? This unique project transformed 'plant energy' into electricity to power the lighting for the stunning night photoshoot by tapping into the natural energy plants create while photosynthesising, the stage where plants use sunlight to grow. During this process, plants produce organic waste that gets absorbed by the surrounding soil or water. Special bacteria in these environments naturally digest the waste, which releases tiny electrons. To capture this green power, researchers placed microbial fuel cells in the soil, which collected the energy from the bacterial breakdown and stored it in batteries. These batteries were then utilised to provide the lighting for the unique photoshoot. Ermi Van Oers, a spokesperson for Nova Innova, shared their excitement about the achievement: 'This first-of-its-kind shoot was a great way to show what's possible with our technology. In the future, we hope this method can be scaled up to power things like household appliances and even parts of vehicles." They added: "It's been wonderful working alongside PEUGEOT, a company committed to sustainable innovation, to introduce this to a wider audience.' Creating enough energy for the shoot was no small task. The team used 30 microbial fuel cells in total, powered by a variety of natural sources: organic waste from plants, 94 litres of water mixed with 188 litres of mud, and even old coffee grounds. Nicola Dobson of PEUGEOT shed some light on the significance of this innovative photoshoot for the brand: "The world's first photoshoot powered by plant energy with the new E-5008 demonstrates PEUGEOT's dedication to embracing innovation and sustainable technology." Nicola Dobson, a spokesperson for PEUGEOT, explained: 'The world 's first photoshoot powered by plant energy with the new E-5008 demonstrates PEUGEOT's dedication to embracing innovation and sustainable technology.' The project comes as more drivers and consumers call for change. A recent study by PEUGEOT found that 70% of people value sustainability when making purchases, and over half (55%) are more likely to buy from brands focused on greener practices. Meanwhile, 58% of drivers say they expect car manufacturers to invest in environmentally-friendly technology. By combining cutting-edge science with artistry, this 'powered by nature' shoot highlights a future where sustainability and innovation work hand in hand – and the possibilities are boundless.
The Guardian
12-04-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Jill Halfpenny looks back: ‘My dad died when I was four and I lost my partner in 2017. Some days, I still struggle'
Born in Gateshead, Tyne and Wear, in 1975, actor Jill Halfpenny landed her breakout role as Nicola Dobson in Byker Grove at the age of 14. She has been a mainstay on TV screens since: starring in EastEnders, Coronation Street, Humans and Three Girls. In 2011, she won an Olivier for her West End role in Legally Blonde the Musical. Her memoir about navigating grief, A Life Reimagined, was published in 2024, and she is starring in The Feud on 5, launching on 14 April. She lives in Tynemouth with her son, Harvey. This was my first holy communion. I don't remember much about the day but I do recall the click-clack of the heels. The rest of the outfit was a bad choice – very old-fashioned and womanly, especially as I was a tomboy who loved trainers and tracksuits. If I'm honest, the main benefit of having holy communion, as a girl who likes to eat and drink, was the fact that during boring old mass I'd now get some bread and wine. My expression here is so awkward, which perfectly represents how I felt at that age. I was always very nervous. I didn't know what to do with my face; I clearly wasn't keen on showing my teeth and I'm holding back a bit in general. School made me especially anxious. I was geeky – not one of the cool girls. As soon as I got into the building, I'd think: 'Get me out of this place.' There were a lot of big personalities, and it took me a long time to find a space where I belonged. Fortunately, I had dance class to retreat to after school. Dancing became a way of releasing something inside me, something that I didn't have the vocabulary to express. My dad died of a heart attack when I was four. It was never addressed and as a result I liked to stay busy. I was always filling my time trying not to think, and I hated the idea of going home and realising that I had nothing on. The quietness of Sundays was awful. I thrived on stress and stimulation; I danced as much as I could. Without knowing, I was learning a lesson: ballet is often painful, but if you stay with the pain it gets a lot easier. It took me decades to realise the same method applies to dealing with grief. By the time I was 13 I knew I wanted to be an actor. It wasn't as if I was going around telling everyone. I kept it quiet. But I have to give huge props to my mum – she always supported me. Normally, parents might suggest you have a backup plan if you're choosing a risky career path – 'Just do a degree and you'll have something to fall back on' – as if they think you're probably not going to make it. Mum never did that. Her attitude was always: 'If it makes you happy, do it.' Luckily, that worked out. Being in Byker Grove was thrilling. There's no other word for it. You could not get me out of the door quick enough on the mornings we were filming. The only thing was, it attracted a significant amount of negative attention at school. A car would be waiting outside school to take me to set, and someone would knock on the door and say: 'Jill, your car is here!' I was at an urban, working-class school. It wasn't a place where students thought: 'She's working hard doing something she loves – and earning money. How cool is that?' The culture was to denigrate – to make me feel stupid, as if I was being a show-off. Going through puberty was already awkward and weird, and being on telly definitely made it worse. I left drama school at 21, and for the next five years I was booking episodes on all of the usual jobs: Heartbeat, The Bill, Peak Practice. I was doing a lot of theatre, a lot of touring. I was a bit of a raver at the weekends. My sisters were into pub culture; backcombing their hair and drinking lager. Meanwhile, I wanted to get a ticket for a massive party in a field and slip into a leather waistcoat and miniskirt. A lot of the time I'd think: 'Oh God, I don't know whether I can pull another nine-hour rave.' But I would often find somewhere to sleep on the floor. It would take days to recover, but I loved every second of it. In my 20s, it was as if I'd hit the ground running: I was on Coronation Street and EastEnders, Strictly, and then Chicago on the West End. Suddenly, people knew my name, but I wasn't quite ready to absorb all this good stuff that was happening to me. I felt empty inside. My relationships were breaking down, and I started to question if I even wanted to be an actor. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion All of that unaddressed grief stopped me from being able to fully feel present with happiness. I kept waiting for something to fill the hole; for everything to fall into place. When success started happening, and I still wasn't fixed, I started to unravel. I spent my 30s working on that: I had been leaning on alcohol to stop the thoughts, and eventually I went to AA. I got sober. I thought: 'Hey, look at me. I'm ready for my life now!' I met a man named Matt. We fell in love. We were so happy together. Then, in 2017, he died. I was like: 'Huh? That doesn't seem right. That's not how that was supposed to happen.' I thought I'd done the work, I thought I'd been a good girl, I thought I'd done all the things I should do. Matt dying of a heart attack brought me to another level of surrender entirely. I realised that what you have to do when life implodes is … nothing. You can't productivity your way out of grief. Some days, I still struggle. I am prone to existential moments where I honestly don't know what life is about or why I am here. Then other days, I go: 'That's a real crock of shit that, Jill. It's all overthinking, so get on with it and have a nice time.' My experiences of losing my dad and Matt have taught me such valuable lessons about how to treat others who are grieving, too. When I was in the thick of it, I could never answer the question, 'How are you?' It was too big. 'How was this morning? How was school drop-off?' were far better. Breaking the grief into specific bits makes it easier to talk about. While I am not as awkward as the little girl in the photo, there is still a bit of shyness about me. I can be open and confident because of the nature of my job, but I'm not like a lot of actors, who are able to walk into a room and hold court. I always think: 'Why are you still performing? The camera's not even on!' It's just not who I am. I suppose that's why I am often cast as the 'everywoman'. The character, who, when you watch the telly, you can go, 'That could be me.' I'm not Nicole Kidman. The dramas I am in are never like Emily in Paris, full of scenic backdrops and beautiful clothes. If I'm on your screen, you're probably more likely to think: 'She's going to go through a very hard time, but, in the end, we're going to be fine.' Which pretty much sums up the story of my life.
