Architects, as a breed, are unaccustomed to being observed. Their work, they will insist, is what matters, the steel and stone standing in as testimony to their intentions. And yet, when the lens is turned on them, their composure reveals well – plenty.
For these portraits I asked each sitter to choose a location for their portrait, some structure or environment that they felt told their story. It could have been anything or anywhere. Whatever the case, the choice isn’t arbitrary. They are, after all, professional storytellers, and the photograph hopes to tell a story as carefully constructed as a masterplan.
One thing you notice about the sitters is their deep attachment to their surroundings. They do not simply inhabit spaces—they encompass them. This isn’t just a place, it’s a professionally considered environment, it has width, depth, height, it exists on a time line, it has history, it has potential. There are a thousand narratives all connected to inhabitation, time of day, activity, desire, nostalgia – a rich, rich tapestry to engage with as a photographer. All to be achieved in 30 minutes between meetings. In fleeting light. With one camera and one lens (OK, that’s a self imposed discipline).
The most revealing photographs are taken when the architect is momentarily unaware of the camera. There is a vulnerability in these unguarded moments that no amount of posing can replicate. A knock at the door, a distant phone ringing, a moment while they decipher the latest wild theory you’ve announced or, the cat arriving. These fleeting expressions are worth more than any perfectly composed portrait.
And yet, for all the careful planning, architects remain fundamentally uncertain in the gaze of the lens. Perhaps it’s the awareness for all the things the photograph announces. The image becomes a kind of monument, a fixed point, an immutable statement. There’s no room for revision, or review, or repair. That’s quite a responsibility, and I genuinely feel enormous gratitude for the trust that’s placed in our brief collaboration.
In the end, to photograph an architect is to capture a paradox. They are at once creators and critics, dreamers and pragmatists, self-assured and deeply insecure. Their environments are their battlegrounds, their legacies, and their refuges. To photograph them in these spaces is to catch them in the act of being themselves, as much a product of their environments as the environments are a product of them.
Endless thanks for time, patience and good humour from my sitters:
