At Sea is the first part of a trilogy of works exploring the social climate in modern-day Scotland, through three very different communities. Between 2009 and 2013, I set out to photograph the men and women working in the Moray Firth fishing community on the north east coast of Scotland.
At that time, the industry was in steady decline and an unprecedented number of fishing vessels had been decommissioned to preserve diminishing fish stocks. As a consequence, local communities who for generations had relied on the industry to provide employment, now found themselves facing significant economic and social challenges.
My response was to record the workers of what may be Scotland’s last core industry.
The portraits I produced document the dignity of a way of life and celebrate the legacy of the individuals who sustain that culture in our present, despite the waning of the industry that originally nurtured it. The portraits were all shot on location in a portable studio set-up in harbours, shipyards factories and sheds.
By capturing these individuals at this pivotal time, the portraits chronicle the changing face of a generation in flux. PD
“These are noble portraits of noble individuals.” John Bellany MBE, RA, RSA
No Ruined Stone forms the second series. Made between 2015 and 2018, this site specific project is set in Muirhouse, a deprived council estate situated in north Edinburgh - I grew up here and lived on the estate for the first eighteen-years of my life.
Years of under-investment and neglect, coupled with unemployment and complex social problems, have put great strain and fracture on the fabric of the community and its residents; in recent years, a significant regeneration programme has been implemented to finally address this and to create new housing stock, better amenities and improved living conditions.
This has been exacerbated however by harsh UK government austerity policy, leaving many residents feeling more disenfranchised than ever. I felt compelled therefore to reconnect with my roots and give voice to the community at this critical time; to capture the present and to challenge misrepresentation by portraying the community and local environment with empathy, honesty and fairness.
Questions around social inequality and poverty are undoubtedly raised, but the underlying narrative is about fighting spirit, dignity and hope for the residents living there today. PD
“Parallel communities like these can be found all over the world: but few will have been photographed so perceptively and with such grace.” Martin Barnes, Senior Curator of Photographs, Victoria and Albert Museum, London
“Duke is physically much closer to his subject matter. The viewer can see — and feel — the surface of what is being photographed, whether it’s the brick walls suffering from general neglect or the skin of his subjects, people who have had to endure being alive under these specific circumstances. The portraits are most welcome here: without them, the depictions of facades of building would just not suffice to get a viewer engaged. This is not because they’re bad pictures — on the contrary. It’s simply because the human presence needs to be explicitly spelled out.” Jörg M.Colberg, Conscientious Photography Magazine
Following on from the previous two projects in the trilogy, At Sea and No Ruined Stone, this third and final instalment This Land We Share was completed in autumn 2024. Located in the remote district of Uig on the southwest corner of the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides, this site-specific project, primarily based in and around the village of Mangersta (Mangurstadh), was made over several visits and over a two-year period, 2022-24.
The series objective was to continue to explore how community is forged – in this instance to chronicle a small group of individuals from this traditional crofting community and honour its kinship, culture and deep connection to the land that ultimately bonds its people. For generations, Hebridean families have worked this rugged and ancient land, tended sheep and cattle, woven cloth and practiced a way of life not dissimilar to that of their forebears: as an artist I was drawn to this notion, that here, the values of tradition and community had not been eroded over time.
In my time working there, I was struck by how supportive the crofters were of each other and their close relationship with the natural world, seasonality and time. There is no doubt in my mind that absorbing this, coupled with the experience of talking and listening to the crofters, had a profound influence on shaping the resultant narrative - a more poetic narrative than I had ever planned or imagined.
Although I can only offer a slice of time over a given period in this community’s history, I hope the body of work as a creative endeavour and visual document, offers a heartfelt response and fair representation of this land, the crofters of Lewis and our shared heritage. PD