Vincent Keith

London, UK

One of my earliest memories is of being in awe of the pure masculinity of an older man. His confidence, his strength, even his smell. The little imperfections that added to his rugged looks - in particular, I remember his hands. He was Turkish. I could sense that he was an ideal, something to aspire to - simple in his way, and far from perfect. Something very strong and yet very beautiful. I would give anything to have photographed him. As I grew older, in the cultures I knew, the concept "beauty" was very narrowly defined. Strong and worn hands were never described as beautiful - even though I knew them to be. These days I take a lot of photos of hands.

Despite being an advocate for technology, I believe that when it comes to photography, my best work is done before the shutter is released. Be it in my studio or on location, I'm fascinated with the play between light and surface – moments when the nature and mood of an object are transformed.

Books by Vincent Keith