My earliest memory of Ivor are of his smile. His eyes always twinkled and his words tumbled out as if he simply could not get them into the world quick enough.

We would talk about musical instruments as we both played the bass - he and I would often argue over the merits of the major manufacturers. I am still shocked at his dragging a double bass almost half way across the London nightscape several times a week on his way home from gigs. My 'enlightening' him about the merits of the bass guitar was something I will always remember as quite litterally lightening his load...

In his Stamford Hill, North London house, there was a magical basement. I can still recall It as a place where both my father and Ivor would spend many hours only to emerge with that characteristic aroma of photographic chemicals floating in the air.

I recall peering through the glow of the dim red light as the images appeared out of nowhere on the paper in those chemical baths. Then there was his voice singing songs as his hands danced in the light beam from the enlarger as he "held-back" the exposure for parts of the image being projected onto the paper below; it really was an act of creation. Ivor once told me that the best photos are the simplest... but also are the hardest to get. I can hear his voice even now; "If you can, make friends with the subject as that will shine through in the picture." and I can see that in many of the faces here. Such profound advice - and an important message to us all.

Brian Richman. February - 2005.
Fort Worth, TX, USA.