The Angel, Islington

I caught the Don McCullin exhibition at Tate Britain, a few days before its close. There was so much to admire in the photography, and so much sadness to be felt at all the terrible conflicts and atrocities that he’s been called upon to record around the world. And, of course, they still go on. The final room included some landscapes from where he lives in Somerset, and also some still life shots. They were all gloomy and sombre photographs. It’s as if he struggles to keep out the darkness. It’s hardly surprising.

There were a number of quotes displayed as a prologue to a set of pictures. I captured this one …

“So, there is guilt in every direction: guilt because I don’t practice religion, guilt because I was able to walk away while this man was dying of starvation or being murdered by another man with a gun. And that I am tired of guilt, tired of saying to myself: ‘I didn’t kill that man on that photograph, I didn’t starve that child.’ That’s why I want to photograph landscapes and flowers. I am sentencing myself to peace.”

For me, the most poignant photographs were those taken in Northern Ireland at the height of the troubles. They felt frighteningly close to home. 

It was good to get a better understanding of his ethos around photography. I felt inspired afterwards to be bolder than I’ve felt recently with the camera in my hand. I was reminded of how much pleasure I get from capturing a random moment of ordinary life—when it’s the moment at which all the parts come together in a composition.