Nothing escaped Martin Parr. The British photographer, who died last December at 73, swept across the world with a macro lens, capturing his subjects from uncomfortably close range, in brash, saturated color. Viewers often leave his exhibitions unsure whether to laugh or cry. “Remember I make serious photographs disguised as entertainment,” he said. “That’s part of my mantra…. If you want to read it you can read it.”
Tokyo, Japan, by Parr, 1998.
Parr was born in 1952, in the prosperous town of Epsom, Surrey. He looked forward to weekends in West Yorkshire, where his grandfather, the amateur photographer George Parr, taught him the basics of the medium. Martin took his first picture at 11, an atmospheric shot of his father standing on a frozen stream. “By the age of 13 or 14, I wanted to be a photographer,” he said. “Nothing else was going to happen.”