My unconventional initiation into photography would come to inform my practice. By chance I discovered a neighbours portfolio whereupon I was confronted by images of contorted figures languishing in tropical foliage. Glittering glass fused with flesh eluded explanation. I was seduced by the Kodachrome palette of sanguine reds and emerald greens. These extraordinary images, terrifyingly beautiful, were the keepsake of a retired forensic photographer from the Bermuda Police Force. The visceral, abstracted photographs were of knife attack, gun shot and car crash victims. At once I understood that no topic was taboo and no subject sacrosanct. The photographer could ask any question and the lens could be trained in any direction. Conventions and boundaries could and must be examined.
The ‘portrait’ came to be a reoccurring theme throughout my practice. Here I’m at odds with my contemporaries. I refuse to perpetuate stereotyped ideals of beauty or gender. I do not subscribe to the doctrine that the portrait captures the essence of the subject in one immaculate shot- I possess no powers of divination. The subject is the manifestation of the photographer- both personalities reside within the frame. My portraits and Biopic series refute the dogma of ‘one defining image, one decisive moment, one truth’. I create man in my own image.