Through My Grandmother’s Lens: A Legacy Restored – Jenny Hanley on Last Night’s Repair Shop

When I carried a small, battered toy monkey into The Repair Shop, I wasn’t just bringing in a childhood relic — I was bringing a piece of royal and family history. That monkey had once belonged to my grandmother, the photographer Lisa Sheridan, who, with her husband-to-be Fernand, fled the Russian Revolution in 1917 and built a new life in England. Together they founded Studio Lisa, a partnership that would become renowned for capturing some of Britain’s most intimate and iconic portraits — including those of the royal family.

Lisa’s introduction to photography was almost accidental. Newly arrived in London, she entered a photographic competition in a newspaper — and won. The editor, clearly recognising her eye for composition and warmth, suggested she take up photography professionally. It was advice that shaped her future and, ultimately, the creative thread that runs through my own family.

From modest beginnings, Lisa and Fernand became pioneers of portrait photography. Their studio became famous for its relaxed, natural images — the kind that seemed to breathe rather than pose. Among their many clients were Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret, whom they photographed many times as children. Later, they would go on to capture the next generation — Prince Charles and Princess Anne — with the same gentleness and charm.

And that’s where the monkey comes in. It was my grandmother’s secret weapon — a cheeky little toy that she would hold up or wiggle behind the camera to coax a smile or a sparkle of mischief from her young royal sitters. In photograph after photograph, those genuine grins and unguarded glances were often thanks to that monkey. To anyone else, it was a scruffy prop. To us, it was the silent helper that helped make photographic history.

Over the years, the monkey grew tattered and frail. Its fur thinned, its stitching came loose, and one arm hung limply by a thread. But it remained a cherished reminder of my grandparents’ extraordinary journey — from refugees to chroniclers of a royal generation. For decades, it sat quietly in a box of studio memorabilia, too delicate to handle but too precious to part with.

When I decided to bring it to The Repair Shop, I did so with a mixture of hope and trepidation. Would it be possible to restore something so worn yet so full of memory? The team greeted it with the same tenderness and respect that defined my grandparents’ work. Watching the restorers painstakingly mend its seams and gently clean its face, I was reminded of my grandmother’s own care in the darkroom — the same blend of patience, precision, and love.

The moment of the reveal was more emotional than I could have imagined. The monkey looked whole again, bright-eyed and cheeky, just as it must have been when it first made Princess Elizabeth giggle. It wasn’t simply a toy made new; it was a connection mended — to my grandparents, to history, to the artistry that shaped my family’s life.

Leaving that Sussex barn, I felt profoundly grateful. The Repair Shop is about far more than fixing objects. It’s about restoring stories, ensuring that the threads of love and craftsmanship that run through families are never lost. My grandmother’s monkey now sits proudly on my shelf — a symbol of creativity, resilience, and the gentle humour that once lit up royal portraits.

Whenever I look at it, I can almost hear her voice, calm and amused, whispering to the children behind the camera: “Now, smile for the monkey.”