Bio

Born in Canada because somebody has to be. Grew up in the States, not by choice. Father was a high functioning, self medicating English anesthesiologist and mother was therefore by default a survivalist. It was an unstable existence which resulted in my being a frightened and quiet child. Then there was punk rock; the first step towards my salvation. Then escaping to Montreal to study biochemistry at McGill University.It was really the only option. Discovered photography and real salvation from a crew of older artists. Stupidly, went on to UCL in London for a postgraduate degree. Left 4 months prior to completion. Still the best decision of my life. Pursued photography in earnest, moved into a squat and lived on air whilst chasing windmills.

Major breaks in London and Paris. Right place at the right time. Magazine and commercial work in the fashion industry. Short lived. Moved NYC. Embarked on Trans-America RV road trip. Twice. Resulted in first monograph. STATES. Another major shift. Car and airline work abounds. Open NYC studio. Several other books. FALL and BLOWN. Buy and renovate a defunct farm in upstate NY. Get married to an Aussie. Have a child. Firmly on the treadmill. Too many planes. Too may family moves. In short, too much.

Summer 2017. Shift again. Move to the farm. Get some animals. No more planes. No more clients. Personal work. Open a little store. Embrace JOMO.

Statement

In 2002, mob boss John Gotti Jr, the don of the notorious Gambino family crime syndicate died in prison. What proceeded can only be described as a spectacle for his funeral with 22 limousines and 19 flower cars that snaked through Ozone Park in Queens, NY. There was local outrage that a man convicted of 5 murders, conspiracy to commit murder, racketeering, obstruction, tax evasion, gambling, extortion and loansharking was given such a grand farewell. I watched the funeral on television and thought about why we are by default respectful in death for people who have caused suffering to others during their lives?

It was not until the death of my own father many years later that I fully felt the gravity of this concept and understood why I needed to fully execute what is a difficult project for many to acknowledge, let alone fully comprehend. I grew up in a misogynist and occasionally violent household. It is something that never fully leaves you. My father was a very bright, opinionated, charming medical doctor who was also a deeply troubled man. I was very young at the height of the problems, but I have carried the burden of being a scared bystander for many years.

When my father died, I remember feeling relieved for everyone, him included. At his funeral I cried at the fact that the real tragedy for me was that my relationship with him had sadly ended years before. It was not possible to say that he was a great guy. He wasn’t. He was a deeply destructive human being to himself and those immediately around him. Years on it is that which I remember. It is ultimately his legacy and there is no false sentimentality that will ever make that change. That is why I decided to finally unravel this contentious, emotional and politically charged project.

Sometimes shit just need to be said.