Of a different frame

But from the very first glance, Trevor proves you wrong. No Taj Mahal and Trevor hasn’t even been to Rajasthan. And all photographs are in black and white. But he did start of with a cliche. "I came in 1982 and the only place I had heard of was Goa and that’s where I went. But when I saw more, I just fell in love," he says. And while he doesn’t have the words to explain why, his camera captures in intricate detail every nuance of his love affair.

And like a bee to honey, Trevor has been drawn back to India six times, since, travelling to Gujarat, Maharashtra, Orissa and all over the South. For him it is only incidental that his work in India also won him the Commonwealth Award in 1987. "You were supposed to send in work done over a period of a week. I was in Kanyakumari then and I just send some," he says. Unfortunately, this exhibition has only one of those award-winning photographs. A shot of giggling, shy women and white-toothed men standing on the rocks of Kanyakumari being photographed by a man with an automatic camera. A typical sight at any tourist spot in India.

Another eye-catching photograph is of a street in Ahmedabad. An old man pulling a hand-cart with the scratched chassis of a car on top. A deliciously ironic picture. "I love irony," Trevor laughs, "I got very lucky with that picture. It was a normal busy street at Ahmedabad, cars, cattle, crows and suddenly, for a split second it was all clear. Luck too has a lot to do with getting good photographs."

But why black and white? Most foreign photographers are ensnared by the riot of colours that India presents. But Trevor is different. "Colour is so everyday in India. It’s all over. And black and white are two beautiful colours too, you know. I find that I can make more abstract images in them. And these pictures are my own reality, they don’t just portray India," he says. And in Trevor’s dictionary the word `everyday’ is anathema. His street scenes, with their humour and sharp observations are un-choreographed but filled with activity from one end of the frame to the other. They are more concerned with the minutiae of personal interaction, a sort of friendly voyeurism.

Trevor admits he is very curious which is what led him to photography. A chartered accountant, he took part time classes in art and discovered a dark room at school. "After the first few pictures, I was hooked," says he. So was Fawzan Hussain. An award-winning photographer himself, Hussain was very impressed with Trevor’s work. "They are so beautiful, you are quite tempted to believe that they are deliberately composed. I loved one of a scaffolding. It is such an abstract photograph. We see it everyday and would never think of making a picture out of it. That’s a foreigner’s view and it is not cliched at all," says Hussain. Trevor with his Rangerover slung over his shoulder, a small camera with no panoramic or zoom lens, just travels and clicks what he calls, "Fragments from my long journey through India". He also keeps a journal recording his encounters and experiences in this country. "One day, a long time from now though, a book will come out of it," he says.

Also on display are photographs that he took in Liverpool during the ’70s and for a book of his titled Constant Exposure. All the pictures for the book have been clicked from a TV screen and weave a surreal love story through the images of media culture. He says, "There is a difference between watching TV and seeing TV. A very significant difference, but how many people are aware of it." A controversial work when it came out, it is now a classic. "People criticised it then, saying how can this be photography. But this sort of work could have been done only through photographs." And Trevor is not yet done with India. His passion for the country is funded by commercial work he does back in London. And armed with his camera and curiosity, next on his itinerary is the North. "All the way up to Ladhak, I really want to know how people there live," he says.