Press Release

Chris Simpson - Hasselblad Master 2005

IT'S ALMOST POSSIBLE to feel hot air rising from the page when you see many of Chris Simpson's works. There aren't any frosty mornings in November or mist-laden vistas across icy waters; most of his images originate from the central belt of the world where hard light and pounding heat predominate. There are paint-box blue skies and searing white sands, there are monochrome images where every tone is infused with the feeling of direct light. A clue as to why these areas are the subject of Chris Simpson's work might be found in a comment by him: "Every opportunity I have, I head for the sun."

Though he was born in the chilly heights of Switzerland, he grew up on the tropical paradise island of Mauritius in the Indian Ocean. And it is there where we probably find the real clue behind his devotion to these dreamy regions.
Photography drew his interest during his years at art school in London in the early seven­ties. It was silkscreen printing that showed him the possibilities of putting down images onto paper that eventually developed into his involvement with graphics and then finally full-time photography.

Commissions came in even before he finished his college course so that out in the world Chris didn't need to climb the usual ladder of being a photographer's assistant for a while. He became a fashion photographer straight away. And so it was for 20 years with Elle, Vogue and Harper's and so on, to mention a few. `Big Budget Location' also became part of his life that swelled his portfolio with international brands and names. You can almost feel the sun on your face when you read Bacardi Rum, British Airways, Fosters Beer, Stella Artois, Australian and Mauritius Tourist Boards. Away from the sunlounger for a while though we also read Chrysler Jeep & Grand Cherokee, BMW, Audi, SAAB, and VW.

But beside these commercial depictions of `lifestyle', other aspects of Chris' personal work took over. We now see studies of rock formations, the desert landscapes and graphical abstractions of wood and stone. Slinky models in an artificial world have turned into the independence and integrity of indigenous peoples in a natural environment. Brand names by the pool have turned into herringbone ridges of sand in Namibia. The photographic world has noticed Chris who has received two Silver Awards from the Association of Photographers as well as winning the Independent on Sunday Photographic competition in the UK. So what are the foundations of Chris Simpson's vision? Art school left a mark of course, and photographically we can note his interest in Irving Penn, Avedon, Edward Weston, Sarah Moon, Barry Lategan, Jean Loup Sieff and Flor Garduno. In the foreword to his publication A Way of Seeing Chris Simpson says:
"... as I look over these over this past years I can see a cohesive link between all the images I have captured (and some that I have lost). And it is my way of seeing.

I like to eliminate clutter to encourage compositional lines. I like foreground interest to draw your eyes to the hero of the picture whether it is a person or a tree, a mountain or a threatening sky. I am not a reportage photographer; I am a romantic. But always I try to create a tension within the photograph and it is that `je ne sai quoi' that for me makes or breaks a picture when I am editing my work after a trip."

He has had a career in fashion photography, another in advertising photography and now a career in fine art photography. Chris Simpson is a busy man with many miles under his belt. His photography provides you with the opportunity to dream about exotic places without having to concern yourself with tickets or air-conditioning. As a final thought regarding his photography, Chris offers a quote from Dorothea Lange, the famous American photographer from the 30's and 40's. He thinks it sums up how he feels about what he is doing now:
"The camera is an instrument that teaches people how to see without a camera"

DAVID JEFFERY

The following article on Chris Simpson was published in Photo Monthly in 2003

"I'll never forget the day...I captured the perfect moment"

Two children walking down a long road. The journey of life perhaps? It's an image with many messages - what does it mean to you?
Allee des Baobabs, Madagascar, 1997

Madagascar is amazing and has the most diverse types of trees and fauna. While I was there, I saw a postcard of this avenue of Baobab trees, and thought ‘I really want to go there'. I had to fly across Madagascar and hire a jeep to get there. I found it absolutely amazing. The road was massive and the trees were enormous - it was an incredible scene.
So there I was, walking down the road with the enormous Baobab trees on both sides. The problem was that everything was above me and I just couldn't get it right. I knew I needed a higher viewpoint. So I climbed on top of my Land Rover and looking down the avenue, I knew I was on the right lines.

Then I heard some laughter and saw two children hiding in the bushes. I asked them to walk down the road in exchange for some sweets. Not once mind, I shot around a roll and a half of film because every time they were walking the shadows weren't quite right. Then, for one exposure, as I pressed the shutter, I knew that one frame would give me something very special. Everything in the frame was perfect and I didn't have to wait until the film was processed to know it.

"A psychiatrist phoned me and said he wanted to use the image to illustrate an article on the frailty of human beings."

I shot Allee des Baobabs in 1997. I came back to England to discover my wife wanted a divorce and that my entire life had gone pear ­shaped. Now I look back on it, it's like my two children beginning their life's journey. My father described this picture as being prescient. I wasn't quite sure what he meant, so I had to look it up in a dictionary.

Prescience isn't premonition. It means something along the lines of… having a knowledge of events before they take place.

I use this image on my business card. In some ways, it has become my signature.

DANIEL LEZANO: Where did it all begin for you?

CHRIS SIMPSON: Without a doubt, the story begins in Mauritius. I was very fortunate. I went to school in England but I went back to Mauritius for my holidays. The freedom that this sort of life gave me, well, it shaped the person I am now I suppose. I was keen on art, but never thought of it as a profession, although I enjoyed on studying it. When I left school at 18, like most kids, I didn't have a clue what to do. So I tried hotel management, because of my links with Mauritius.

After two months, I realised it wasn't for me. So I left and enrolled on a four-year art course at Ealing College, which had a brilliant photography department. If I can thank anyone for this decision it was George, a wine waiter at the Waldorf Hotel in London. One day he pointed out to me that why persist with the job when I was so unhappy with it. He questioned me on what I wanted to do and gave me the courage to jack in the safe job and pursue a career in art.

You obviously made the right decision to study art. How did you get your break in to professional photography?

I'm a great believer in the jigsaw puzzle of life, where the pieces either fit together in your favour or against you. In other words, if you're fortunate enough, a sequence of events just happens for you. I went to Mauritius with a college portfolio to show my parents. I was 20 at the time. I'd heard through the grapevine that French television were there to film a French TV series, a costume drama called Paul et Virginie by Bernadin de San Pierre.

Being enthusiastic, naive and very ambitious, I decided to go and see them with my portfolio. I explained what I was doing in Mauritius, told them about my college course and showed them my pictures. It emerged that their stills photographer had got stuck somewhere and they needed one. It was a fantastic opportunity, but there was a hitch - I was due to go back to college. However, they wrote to the head of department and asked for me to stay with them for three and a half months. The head of photography agreed it was a great opportunity and treated it as a work placement. I used my 35mm gear, shot completely on black & white and learned a hell of a lot.

Were the other students at the college jealous of your good luck?

I'm not sure. You see, I stayed on another week and prepared to go back to college. But then I heard that English Vogue had come out to do a travel story on Mauritius.

I went to see them at the hotel they were staying at, with my portfolio and images from the French TV series. It transpired that the pictures supplied to them by the tourist board weren't what they wanted. So I offered to do them and they accepted. I had a week's commission, with a government car driving me around the island!
Once this ended, I decided to spend one last week there before going back to college. However, I received a call from the government's tourist office who had heard about what I'd been doing. I went to see them and I was offered the commission to do a calendar for the Mauritian tourist board.

Seven and a half months after arriving in Mauritius, I returned back to college. I ended up getting a diploma with distinctions.

What did you gain most from your time at college (apart from the ‘work experience')?

The best thing about my time in college was that it allowed me the time to experiment, to interested me most. In my case, the aspect of art I enjoyed most at college was photography. While there, I was doing some work for She magazine, so when I left college I went straight into work as a fashion photographer, without ever having assisted anyone. The closest I got to assisting was my Vogue placement, which although didn't involve me assisting anyone, still gave me a valuable insight into how the professionals worked.

What did that week do for you?

It gave me incredible self-confidence. I thought I was super-human and I flew by the seat of my pants. It inspired me, made me dream. It made me see photography as glamorous, exciting and fun. I was 20 and a free spirit and I remember thinking ‘I want a slice of this life'. It fired me up and gave me incredible enthusiasm for the art.

What made you move from fashion to advertising?

I did fashion for nearly 20 years - I was driven, determined and focused. But as the ‘80s went on, I wanted a change. I wondered if there was more to me as a photographer, if I could do more than fashion. I just didn't know. I wanted to do something special. Australia was special to me because of my grandmother, who I was very close to. So in 1987 I headed to Australia, not really knowing what I wanted to do, and it was to change me as a photographer.
 Walking into a bookshop in Darwin was to be a turning point in my life. I found a book by a photographer named Baldwin Spencer, who had gone into the Australian outback as an anthropologist, and had photographed the Aborigines with a plate camera.

I knew then that I wanted to photograph the Aborigines and capture their pride and dignity.
Through a guide I met on the trip, I was able to photograph some Aborigines and returned back to England with some pictures that really fired me up. I hadn't realised it at the time, but the following year was Australia's Bicentinery year, so I had really fallen on my feet. First there was an exhibition, then the Australian Tourist Commission gave me a show for a month, and I had a 40-foot banner pinned outside Australia House in the Strand. I used to do huge diversions in my car if someone was with me so that they'd see it!

These pictures set me on my way in advertising. In 1988, I was commissioned by the Australian tourist board to spend six weeks shooting images of Australia for their advertising. What was really funny was that they asked me to shoot it on a panoramic camera. Not only didn't I own one, I'd never used one before. I hired a Linhof 617 and read the instruction manual on how to use the thing on the flight out there!
They liked the pictures so much that they commissioned me again the following year for another six weeks. ‘89 was great because it was the year of the pilot's strike, so I had to fly everywhere on small light aircraft, flying from one bush landing strip to the next. I think it's fair to say I've seen more of Australia than many Australians have.

"I'm a great believer in the jigsaw puzzle of life, where pieces either fit together in your favour or against you."

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Every life story has chapters that open and close. For me, one chapter closed in 1991 when I decided to stop fashion and another opened when I started to shoot advertising.

When did this chapter in your life end?

Without a doubt, in 1997. Out of the blue, I got divorced. And that undeniably played a big part in my life and upset me enormously. I moved from London down to Sussex and very quickly fell out of the London loop.
But lots of other things went through my mind about work. I realised I was being reactive and not proactive, I was still getting work through my agents, but they had seen my heart had gone out of it.
Also, the advertising world was changing. Stock libraries were more becoming more savvy. Where once they accepted holiday snaps, they were now far better researched and executed and two big players, Getty and Corbis, had bought up everyone worth having. Clients weren't going to get fobbed off by an advertising agency looking for a big budget for a shoot abroad, as they could source a picture from stock. This, mixed with the recession and the advent of computer technology and image manipulation, has changed the market completely.

There are an awful lot of very, very talented advertising photographers out there whose lives are just so busy, because of everything that they pile on top of  themselves, that they just don't have time to live, let alone do their own projects. I didn't want to end up being 60 and looking back with regrets. There are so many people in advertising photography who are struggling, because budgets have gone, because of the impact of stock libraries and because of what can be achieved on the computer with image manipulation in post-production. There are an awful lot of extremely talented photographers who are not working at the moment due to the technological state of flux that we seem to be in.
The arena is over-subscribed - the world is now full of photographers - and so I just thought, ‘I'm going to do it, I'm going to turn my back on advertising photography.

So you left advertising behind you to concentrate more as a fine art photographer?

Did I give up advertising? I think it was more that advertising gave up me! I think I just lost interest in doing them. I still get phone calls from agencies saying they've got layouts and wanting me to quote for shoots, but I don't know what it is with the industry at the moment, it's just lacking something.
If I was offered an advertising job that interested me, then I'd certainly consider it. If it's a photographic challenge that I like, then I'd do it. But I've stopped sending my folio out and looking for jobs. This isn't complacency, I just want to clear my head of this and be, well, self-indulgent.
I want to see if I can make it work and see if I can be a successful fine art photographer, in the way that Penn and many other of my heroes have become.

Without a doubt the events of ‘97 were instrumental to what came next - I became divorced, moved down to Sussex and realised I was soon to turn 50, which I did last year. But what's 50? Well  actually it's a watershed, and I'm really pleased I've reached it - I thought I should celebrate it big style and had the most amazing party! How many people get to 50 and are still fired up about what they do?

Where do you find your drive?

I'm still very passionate about what I do. I love beauty. I'm a real romantic, so I like to look at the world through rose-tinted glasses.

What subjects appeal to you most with fine art work?

I've always been influenced by tribal art, hence the aborigines in Australia. I'm also into sculptured landscapes, and when I say this I mean rock formations, bits of wood, patterns in the earth, that sort of thing.                   There's a fantastic artist called Andy Goldsworthy, who finds objects, assembles them, then photographs them. He'll find leaves, bits of wood and so on and build them up into some sort of arrangement. Then nature has its way and snow will fall on them, the wind will blow them about or water will wash them away and he'll capture what's left.
…I suppose you could summarise it by saying I have a love for shape and form.

Would you now classify yourself as a fine art photographer?

It's difficult to give me a single ‘label', as I've covered so many areas of photography in my career.

The most honest thing I can say is that I'm becoming a self-indulgent photographer. I think every artist is self-indulgent and there's no denying this. I'm disciplined, I try to get up early in the morning and do what I do, but also if I feel like taking a day off I can -  whatever I've got to do can wait until tomorrow. Some days I won't work at all and potter around in the garden, and then the next day I'll work like crazy until two in the morning. I enjoy doing it this way.

Where would you like to be in five or ten years time?

That's a very pertinent question. I hope to be healthy, I'd like to fall in love again, have all that excitement all over again. I'd like my children to be happy and I'd like to know I've been able to give them the upbringing they deserve.
And I'd like to be a force to be reckoned with - I'd like to be somebody that people say "Yep, Chris Simpson, he takes nice pictures.' I think that it would be lovely if I could achieve that.

Basically, I'd love to still be taking pictures and hope I'll continue to be appreciated.
It's funny. My mother, never really said anything to me about what I did. She was a great lady, very intelligent, but she never really complimented me, ever. She died in 1991 of cancer and shortly after; I talked to my dad and asked him what he always wanted to do. He revealed that he always fancied going for a long, slow, quiet drive through the south of France.
So I got my car and off we drove to the south of France, avoiding every main road and really taking our time. It was a voyage of discovery and a lot of things came out.

"I'd like to be somebody that people say ‘Yep, Chris Simpson,
he takes nice pictures'. I think that it would be lovely if I could
achieve that."

I mentioned to my dad that Mum had never really made a big deal of what I did. He agreed, and then told me that behind my back, she was so proud of me and was always telling people how proud she was of what I did. I'm not sure why she never told me, maybe she thought that I'd be complacent if she told me how good she thought I was.
My point is that it's important to be appreciated for what you do, by people you respect and love, as well as complete strangers. If what I'm doing still has people wanting to own it, be it a poster print that cost them £25 or a signed editioned fine art print of the same image that costs £1,500, then I'll be satisfied.

Do you have a preference for black & white or colour photography?

I think I do. I love colour, but I love images in black & white. I love the way in which you have to convert scenes make up of millions of colours into varying tones of grey from black to white.
When you look at scenes ‘in colour mode', certain things stand out - usually if they have the strongest colours. This can be an actual distraction from the scene.
Seeing in tones gives you a neutral view of the scene - you're viewing the form and shapes of the objects in the scene without being distracted by the colours. A black & white picture works because of its composition and its shape and its form. I'm not saying colour doesn't, but sometimes colours can get in the way.

"I know it's a total cliché, but b&w has a timeless quality. Colour works when it's clean and uncluttered."

I know it's a total cliché, but black & white has a timeless quality. For me, colour works when it's clean and uncluttered. I like blocks of colour - artists like Mark Rothko and Edward Hopper played a big influence on me.

Do you take both colour and b&w film with you on a shoot?

Yes I do, because when I shoot in colour I want to think in colour and when I shoot in black & white I want to think in b&w.
For instance, imagine there's a beautiful horizon with a gorgeous pastel light or by contrast, in-your-face polarised punchy light giving graphic shapes, beautiful lines, attractive angles. What do you do?
Do you go for colour, giving a punchy, saturated picture? Or, do you do what I love to do and shoot in black & white with an orange filter attached to the lens?

I always use an orange filter because it affects the contrast and, more importantly, I'm looking through the lens at a filtered image. Here's an analogy, hunters shoot with yellow glasses as these allow you to ‘see' through foliage. In the same way, an orange or yellow filter allows you to see the world differently - your whole perspective changes. It allows you to think tonally, to think monochromatically.

I remember when I did a major ad campaign for Chrysler. The whole European campaign was colour while the English campaign was blue toned black & white. I shot everything on Fuji Velvia, so we had colour images for the European bit. Then, using the digital darkroom, we converted images into blue-toned Black & White for the English ads.
However, if I'm going out to shoot pictures specifically for myself, I want black & white film loaded in my camera and an orange filter on the lens. I found it quite hard on the Chrysler shoot to shoot in colour, knowing that some images would be converted into b&w. I think my brain is so used to seeing through an orange filter for mono work that it struggles to see it in colour.

Do you ever use a red filter for mono work?

No. I think red is too much. Yellow isn't strong enough, red is over the top. The effect of red is almost apocalyptic!

What do you think of digital?
I think we're living in very exciting times. I've resisted buying a digital back because I've heard a rumour that perhaps next year someone will come up with 6x4.5cm chip, which is very exciting. So I'm just waiting.

What's the best thing about your job?

Telling someone you're a photographer opens up doors.

What's the worst experience you've had as a photographer?

I went to Mali and needed some anti-malarial tablets. I took the recommended pills and within a few days started feeling negative, paranoid and generally very unpleasant. I fainted on the day I shot the mosque and almost went delirious. I ended my trip short and returned home. I processed the films, then put them in a drawer, without giving them a second glance.
Six months later, I read a story in a broadsheet about someone else who had their life ruined by this drug. I reckon it took me a few years to sort myself out properly because of it. The most frightening aspect is that this drug is still available.

What's your biggest fear as a photographer?

When you look at all the great painters and photographers, they all have a particular era where they excel in, and then they struggle. During the late ‘80s and ‘90s I produced some fantastic work and I'm not saying that I'm struggling now, but I wonder if this period will be thought of as my era.

Is there any type of photography that you don't like?

I'm not into this Brit Art stuff - I can't get my head around it. In a way it's like with fashion. I'm quite old-fashioned so if I photograph a woman I want her to appear beautiful. I could never relate to that heroin chic that was about for a while.

What stands out in your career?

You know how certain things in life leaves a major impression on you. The week with Vogue stands out for me. I didn't assist any of the photographers - I was simply an observer - but I gained so much from it - I talked to the photographers, picked up valuable hints and tips from them and saw how the masters worked. I remember every single moment.

Clive Arrowsmith was great and taught me a lot. Bailey is Bailey. He was very nice. He was shooting Jean Shrimpton, at one time he had Jean standing on a horse - I nicked this idea a couple of years later, when I had a model sit on a cow! Years later, in the early ‘80s, I was in Paris working for Elle Magazine and in the studio next to me was Olivero Toscani. I went up to him to say hello and he remembered me! Everyone needs to have heroes and for me, these were mine.

I've been very lucky, but I think you make your own luck too. I'm not saying this with any complacency, as I've had my knocks and made lots of mistakes, but you do make your own luck. Carpe Diem - seize the day!
I think if you surround yourself with beauty, you think beautiful thoughts. If you're unfortunate enough to be surrounded by ugliness, inevitably it is going to impact on you.
That's the only analogy I can take from my week with Vogue, the beauty of Mauritius and my work in fashion with beautiful models.

Chris Simpson's thoughts on the strange paths that life's journey takes us in ring true, when at the end of the evening, as we study the diary once more, we note something that we hadn't taken account of previously - the dates his first week's work experience - 4-8 June 1973.
Nothing odd in that, until you realise that we're sitting in his garden exactly 30 years later - 4 June 2003. There might be something in that prescience that he talks about, after all.

"I've been very lucky, but I think you make your own luck too. I'm not saying this with any complacency, as I've had my knocks and made lots of mistakes, but you do make your own luck.
Carpe Diem - seize the day!"