It’s hard not to like his pictures. I tend to get immersed in the minutiae of interiors. They draw me in and, quite a bit of time later, release me back out . A few months ago I wrote a post about what I called ‘kitchen table pictures‘ and this photograph is a good example of the type that I was referring to.
A ‘lived-in’ room. Not tidy, although there is order and cleanliness. A hearth. A favourite place to sit. A reminder that after sunset, gas or kerosene lamps with their sooty flames would have added to the fug of the room, the imagined fug reminding me of my childhood with the smoke from coal fires, relations that smoked and toast being spread with dripping. Chips would have been in the deep fryer. How things have changed in a short time.
Edwin Smith is just one of three photographers that feature more than once in my hallowed camp.
I’ve found that in many ways, my own style of photography mirror’s Smith’s. I think it’s about the choice of subject and point of view.