R Barr

One of my earliest memories is of a massive neon sign that lit up only at night. Without knowing it then, that glow of light and the shadow of the night would set the tone for the rest of my life. Hong Kong in the 90s was my favourite place in the world. Edward Hopper was one of my earliest artistic heroes. Wong Kar Wai’s films still shape the way I see light and shadow. All of this long before I ever picked up a camera.

I was around ten when I stumbled upon a trunk full of old cameras at my auntie’s house — my favourite auntie, of course. It was love at first sight. And it wasn’t long after that when I got my first camera, a Canon EOS Rebel 35mm film,  and I’ve been taking pictures ever since. Way before digital cameras or mobile phones existed, I was the awkward kid lugging his bulky camera gear everywhere, taking endless photos and annoying the hell out of his friends. The camera was both my shield from and my key into the world. Taking pictures became how I made sense of what I saw and felt.

In my early twenties, finding a way to make a living out of photography became my main priority — this was long before social media, YouTube, Instagram, or even MySpace opened the floodgates for visual storytellers. And over the past 20 years I have achieved that. I’ve been an international correspondent, a war photographer, and worked across the fashion, film, and music industries — with big names, small names, and everything in between. I learned on the job — some experiences good, some terrible, but all of them valuable.

These days, my focus is on portraiture, architecture, decaying urban landscapes, social, and conflict photography. I go to warzones not out of thrill, but to capture the raw will to survive — to find those fleeting rays of beauty and dignity that persist, even when set against the backdrop of our darkest impulses. It’s this tension — between light and shadow — that still drives me today. Some people unwind in Ibiza. I travel to Syria, Iran or Ukraine. In short, photography is not only what I do, but an extension of who I am.