Street Talk
The street is a perfect place for private conversation. No one else will hear the exchange so it is possible to discuss issues that might be avoided in a house where voices can be overheard. All the conversations photographed here would be spontaneous. They have started because of a chance encounter on the street.
I used a roll of film to photograph these two gentlemen (above). The 36 images will at some point be put into a sequence and used in a film. This was the final frame. Previously they were standing where I took this shot from and they are standing where I shot most of the film. They were so pleased to see each other and engrossed in conversation that they were oblivious to everything around them. Black and white images were edited together for the experimental film ‘East End 1‘ with music by Lola Perrin. Many of the images used were taken in the 1980’s. Digital photography has enabled me to experiment more but the rules are just the same. With film I think you consciously take more notice of light and speed and aperture settings. As imaging was never instant you had to take more notice of the lighting environment you were working in. I think using film, processing it and printing in a darkroom is the best way to learn photography. The whole process facilitates an intimate understanding of exposure and technique.
Just like the men in Whitechapel these two men (above) are engrossed in their conversational encounter. The public space of a street is paradoxically probably the most private for conversation.
In all of these images there are many similarities. For me the most obvious is the way hands orchestrate and underpin the conversation.
Cheshire Street Warehouse
These photographs were taken a few weeks before this warehouse was demolished and the space used for a luxury housing development. There used to be a number of warehouses on Cheshire Street which facilitated a rich variety of stalls catering for a wide range of tastes. You could by a restored valve radio, cameras, tools, CD’s, clothes and old photographs and paintings. It was a delight to simply walk through the warehouse just to view the stalls. The man sitting behind the jewelery appears to be looking around in a way that suggests he doesn’t want certain people to see the contents of his glass case.
Although the cabinet is partially held up by an empty coke tin the demeanour of the owner of the wood and glass cabinet adds an air of urgency to any potential sale. His body language is communicating: “everything in the case is for sale at well below the market value but you had better buy quickly as I will be leaving soon.”
Sadly there are no warehouses left on Cheshire Street that sustain men with glass cases full of jewelery and watches. It is no longer possible to buy a restored valve radio or old watch. The place has become gated and organic.
City Trees
No matter how tall, majestic and strident they may be, soaring buildings are still eclipsed by the random etchings of tree branches. It just takes one tree to challenge the angular voice of city buildings.
Trees that survive the clinical aspirations of planners still manage to assert authority. They remind us that the vanity of metropolitan architecture is peripheral compared to the seasonal voices of trees.
It is impossible for sleek lines, marble and economy of design to challenge the arbitrary signals of a tree.
Street Read
The man reading the fly posters on Mile End Road enjoys a collage of contemporary tabloid treats. They include a special report on the world’s richest kids.
The man in the Whitechapel betting shop (below) compliments the pavement reader. I suspect they are both studying racing form.












































