Paul Burke lives in London and is currently working on two long-term projects involving the city and its people.



Death has for the large part been removed from the contemporary urban environment. London, in particular, defines itself by emotional control, restraint and conservatism. Public displays of grief are rare, and signs of rupture and sudden violence leave a lingering mark.

"We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are," wrote Anaïs Nin. I have known people who have been murdered, killed, who died by accident and by misadventure. And I found remembering them within the confines of London's public spaces a strangely inadequate experience.

The capital is a largely secular place. At the same time, it hosts so many faiths and beliefs that the shared ground has become everybody's and no one's domain, and in its midst, flowers are a jarringly personal token. As I photograph them in the early hours of the morning, my thoughts about them change.



Issue 13 £5.20

Back Issues £5.20 to £14.50

Visit shop