David Malarkey

My father gave me a camera for my birthday when I was perhaps nine or ten, and my interest in photography simmered until I got a job and some money, because he had forgotten to give me any film. Eventually, as we all must, I came to a Camera Club, and did quite well there. The secret at that time was never to print anything smaller than 20 x 16 and very, very contrasty.

By accident I went to a John Blakemore workshop at Paul Hill's Place where my eyes were not miraculously opened, as they should have been, but my ears certainly were. People were photographing to please themselves. So I lugged a large wooden camera around in unsuitable weather for some time and learned quite a lot about the Zone System. The secret is to spend a very long time looking through a spot meter, and then give it 1/4 second at f22. A heavy, sharp-edged tripod provides reliable guidance on when to pause and look for the hidden gem. A beard helps.

And then a pause for a few years, as my private life was taking up altogether too much time. Now I'm back and working my way through smaller and ever less interesting subject matter to reveal the very core of my own being. Let's hope that I never get there.

Noah's Bathroom.

For some part of the year, the rising sun shines onto the bevelled edge of my bathroom mirror.

The Painted Loft.

I have a natural talent for spreading untidiness, so eventually we converted our loft into a space which my wife could call her own. We painted it white and the sky's varying light made it a place of magic as well as peace.

Noah's Bathroom

The Painted Loft