Long-term Photography Projects and the Spirit of Place
An interview with Stuart Edwards, photographer of The Barras Market
This year I decided that I wanted to go deeper and dedicate myself to a long-term project in one location: Glasgow’s Golden Z. I have no idea what it will look like by the end of the year—and that’s fine—but I am keen to bring in other people’s perspectives.
Shortly before I started the project, I chanced upon Stuart Edwards’ Barras Market photos in The Glasgow Bell1 and subsequently on Instagram. I was captivated by the warmth of his portraits. They felt ethical, truthful, and full of humanity.
As someone who finds it intensely awkward to ask people for a portrait, I was curious to hear about how he makes these connections. I met up with Stuart Edwards—in the Barras, of course—to find out more.
Neil Scott: For people who don't know the Barras Market could you tell us what attracts you to the place?
Stuart Edwards: It's probably the heart of Glasgow, certainly the East End. For generations, people have been coming here and setting up stalls and hanging out. It’s always been a vital part of the city. I’ve been coming here for about ten years, photographing and filming, but even just walking around is an event. There's always something happening and someone to talk to. I like the fact that you can come here and have an aimless wander. Photography is a sideline to that experience.
People can do weirder things with a stall because the overheads are so low. I remember seeing a guy in the corner of the market selling darts paraphernalia.
Ha, I remember that guy. There was another guy around the corner who just sold TV remotes. And I went past one time this guy saying “Do they get paired up with any TVs because I'm after a TV.” And he said, “No mate, I’m just remotes, you’ll have to speak to the TV guy who's on the other side.” Anything goes here.
It feels like a totally self-contained world.
Definitely. It is like a time warp or a time capsule.
Take us back to the first ever time you brought your camera to the Barras. What was that moment like?
I was trying to make a documentary about the Barras. It was scary the first few times, but if you’re courteous to people, let them know what you're doing, and respect if they don’t want to be photographed then that gains trust.
Everyone looks really relaxed in your photographs. How do you stop people from tensing up?
Asking people for their portraits always feels a bit clumsy, but it’s easier if you're relaxed about it and have no expectations. You have to be really polite and just say “Look, I'd love to take your picture, but if not, no pressure.” There have been so many rejections, but as long as you're not too hopeful it’s going to happen in the first place, then you don't really feel rejected.
There was one guy who gave me the funniest rejection ever. I said, “I've seen you loads of times. I was just wondering if I could get your portrait. No pressure if not, I am just taking pictures today, blah, blah.” He came up to me, looked at my camera, laughing. Then he put his arm on my shoulder, really smiley, and whispered to me: “You fuck off, son.” It was the funniest, kindest way of telling me to fuck off.
When you talked with Margaret Mitchell a while back, you said there was no endpoint to the project. Is there an endpoint now?
I've done this project twice, or three times, maybe four times, I don't know. I originally started doing it in black and white. I made a dummy copy of a book three or four years ago. I was happy with that but have not done anything with it. I always wanted to try it in medium format and show a different side of the market that's more colourful and joyful, because black and white can be a bit grim, especially with the Scottish weather. Black and white feels like you're forcing a grittier look.
When it comes to long-term projects, I think of Simon Murphy in Govanhill. Once he had the exhibition and the book he moved on to other things. I'm curious to what extent you need an endpoint.
Yeah, it's more of a passion project. If I have a spare afternoon at the weekend, it's nice to come down, wander about and maybe take some pictures. If I think “Oh, I need to get some good pictures today”, it won't work out. It's better to go with the flow. Chat to people, walk around and not expect anything. That's usually when something pops up that you wouldn't have imagined or couldn't have pre-planned.
You also make documentaries. I saw your one on Robert Blomfield, which was commissioned by Edinburgh University. How does working on a commission compare to doing a personal project?
Working with commissions that have a deadline gives you a different kind of focus that you don’t get with a personal project. With personal projects, you have to ride those waves where you lack enthusiasm. With a commission, you just have to get it done.
The Barras has become a popular hangout for photographers. How has that affected the market traders' view of them? You do occasionally see signs saying "No Photos" on some stalls.
I understand people from outside wanting to take the camera out, but a lot of traders get annoyed by it. I heard one say “It's like you're in a zoo or something, people just come up to you when you're sat behind your stall. They just take a picture of you. They don't treat you like a person.”
There’s a famous photograph by Raymond Depardon that was taken around the corner from the market. Do you think people can still do work like that now or is it ethically unacceptable?
With Raymond Depardon, I think he was on assignment and the photojournalists back then were a bit more gung ho: parachuting into a place and needing to capture it in a very short space of time. It's tricky with his pictures because they're so good that it's hard to think past that.
Do you have any heroes in photography?
I find that a lot of my heroes are cinematographers rather than photographers. There's a cinematographer I love called Robby Müller who shot Paris, Texas. It's very photographic and has a huge consideration for colour.
One photographer I have been thinking about recently is Martin Parr, particularly his early work, Bad Weather. He would go out with a plastic bag on his camera and take pictures of people in the wind and rain. It feels resonant in Glasgow because we are used to these conditions. How do you find the light in Scotland?
It's tough. Very tough. The weather is extremely disheartening. For about six months of the year here, you're like: “That's all we're going to get today”, and it's like that all week. When I first came to the Barras, I was photographing in the worst part of the winter. That was a few years of photographing in black and white in the winter. It was a bit grim, so I thought I'd do it again in colour, but only when there was half-decent light. Instantly, the whole thing felt more joyous. There's so much colour about.
Do you think the Barras is going to change?
You can already see the East End changing, it’s much more cool and trendy now, but there is something in the core of the Barras that allows its spirit to remain. But it’s not what it was.
Thank you, Stuart.
Stuart Edwards can often be found wandering around the Barras Market. Check out his website and Instagram.
Coincidentally, my first article for The Bell went out on Friday. Check it out.
Great interview, Neil! For some reasons I thought Stuart was the guy in the first image. What a surprise at the end… 🤣 I love his attitude towards photographing people in the streets. And his photographs are wonderful! Would love to go for a walk in that area.
I really enjoyed that interview Neil, thank you. Stuart's images of The Barras are excellent, it looks like a really characterful place...and I have to agree about the cinematography of Paris, Texas - the colours are a rich feast that I never tire of!