Ray Smith Photography

A bus shelter on a quiet road. A pavement bending away. Winter trees. A road with no traffic. A structure built for waiting, but with nobody waiting.

That is what gives the picture its charge.

It is not dramatic. Nothing is happening. And that is the point. The image sits in that strange pause between arrival and departure, between village and edge-land, between use and abandonment. The shelter is meant to be ordinary, helpful, public — but in this light it becomes something else: a small stage, empty after the actors have gone.

The misty softness gives it the feeling of memory rather than documentation. The road curves away like a half-remembered route. The branches close in from the right. The shelter itself leans slightly into the frame, almost like a witness.

This was taken in Appledore in 2013, years before “liminal spaces” became a thing people talked about online. But the instinct was already there: finding the oddness in the ordinary, the melancholy in useful places, the poetry in something most people would pass without seeing.

It is not a picture of a bus shelter.

Northam Burrows sits where the Taw and Torridge Estuary opens out toward Bideford Bay — a place of sand, salt marsh, old stones, big sky and shifting ground.

These were taken around The Skern, where the tide fills and empties the mudflats and the land never feels entirely settled. It is beautiful, but it is not soft. Deep channels, wet mud, fast water, and that strange estuary silence all remind you to watch your step.

I took these with one eye on the photograph and the other on whether I was about to sink into the mud.

The reward was that extraordinary North Devon light: hard, silver, bruised by cloud, turning the beach, the bike, the rocks and the coast path into something half real, half remembered.

Worth the risk.

This was taken during a feature shoot about a boxing club member who had received an MBE.

Nigel wasn’t the award story — but perhaps, one day, he should be considered too.

He was helping me build the studio environment inside the club: a canvas backdrop on freestanding light stands, crossbar support, a studio softbox from above, and a Nikon 250mm giving that compressed portrait feel.

But the technical setup is only half the story.

Nigel is one of those people who quietly does a lot for others. He takes people to hospital who might not otherwise get there. He helps where he can. He turns up. No fuss, no grandstanding — just a good egg doing good things.

Sometimes the best portraits happen just outside the planned frame.

Taken this morning in beautiful 82° sunshine at 09:00 — a lamb close to his mum, with the rest of the family scattered across the hill behind them.

My favourite light is hard, directional sunlight — almost like a Klieg light.

It cuts across the scene, throws deep shadows, and turns ordinary places into lines, shapes and dark graphic marks.

There is something liminal in that kind of light. The beach stops feeling like a location and becomes a threshold — part real place, part stage, part memory.

Found these in a drawer. Shot walking outside Benidorm with the Rolleiflex.

Turia was about two hours away.

Quick scans on a homemade lightbox—just previews. I’ll have them done properly.

Tri-X still holds.

Mark Powell, 📍 D’Arblay Street, Soho — May 1995. 📷 Pentax 6x7 • Tri-X.

Saturday. Brighton to Soho.

I drove up in my little red Yugo, boot loaded with a Pentax 6x7, Tri-X, tripod — and a huge HMI light that had no business being squeezed into a tailor’s office.

Soho was its usual puzzle. Tight streets, slow turns — until, somehow, I parked right outside.

Mark Powell.

Already a presence in the men’s fashion pages — Esquire, Arena, GQ — right at the centre of that Soho world where tailoring met attitude. His office on D’Arblay Street was legendary. People passed through constantly — Kate Moss, Naomi Campbell, editors, stylists, musicians. If you cared about clothes, you ended up there.

We worked fast.

Tripod down. Pentax loaded. Tri-X ready.

I shot wide open. The HMI pushed as high as that tight little room would allow — hard light, straight in.

No overthinking. A few minutes and it was done.

That was the rhythm then.

Turn up. Set up. Take the picture.

And if you got it right, you knew immediately.

Outside, it was tipping down.

So I gave him a lift home. A very merry ride it was.

A great day.

The photograph went on to make the front page of The Times as an “article inside” image.

Soho, 1995. A man in his element. No performance — just presence.

Handheld 645. Ektachrome 200. New faces board.

These are original tear sheets from a 1997 advertorial shoot for Schuh, photographed in East London behind a warehouse loading bay.

Medium format 645. Natural daylight. No set build—just concrete, brick, and whatever the location gave back.

The model was new—second shoot. She went on to be a success.

What mattered here was placement. Letting the shoes carry the frame. Letting the film do the colour work. Slight softness, that Ektachrome palette, and just enough edge from the location to stop it feeling polished.

No digital safety net. You exposed properly or you didn’t.

Credits (as printed)

Alex: Blue sequinned dress: Solo Soba at Speed Queen, £195 & Sign of the Times fluffy blue jacket: Top Shop Black patent 3 strap mule shoes £34.99

Kristen: Stripey skirt and top by Mac And Magee Skirt £17.99, Top £20.99 Black and white patent ‘Tulip’ bar court shoes, £34.99

Alex: Stripey dress: Mac And Magee, £29.99 Orange mohair jumper: Karen Millen White leather ‘Emma’ zip knee boots, £69.99

Kristen: Black and white mod dress: Miss Selfridge, £29.99 Black and white patent ‘Tulip’ bar court shoes, £34.99

Alex: Black velvet jacket: Name Workshop, £249 Orange crushed velvet hipsters: Karen Millen, £75 Black patent ring sandals, £49.99

Black satin shirt: Miss Selfridge, £32.99 Black and white pinstripe hipsters: Name Workshop, £70 White patent stiletto cross vamp shoes, £49.99

All sunglasses: Name Workshop, £58 All boots and shoes: Schuh Bags from a selection at Poshat at Sign of the Times Tights: Jonathan Aston Hair accessories: Miss Selfridge, £2.99 Satin bags: Shu-Uemura Liberty in London, £30

A loading bay. A roll of film. A new face.

In between my photography projects, I’ve been documenting the hidden wildlife that shares our landscapes. This short observation of a badger in the fields around Appledore is part of ongoing work with the Badger Trust – helping to raise awareness of their presence and the importance of protecting these ancient pathways.

So often, these creatures remain unseen, quietly shaping the ecology of our countryside. Through photography and film, my aim is to bring them into view – reminding us that the green fields aren’t empty, but alive with stories.

Read here

Earlier this year I had the privilege of photographing the historic Varsity Golf Match between Cambridge and Oxford at Royal North Devon Golf Club – the oldest links course in England.

From the quiet intensity of lining up a putt to the rhythm of a full swing in motion, I wanted to capture more than just sport – the atmosphere, the tradition, and the character of the players themselves.

The North Devon light was soft but ever-shifting, the coastal wind adding both challenge and texture to the day. Shooting here reminded me how much photography is about patience – waiting for that fleeting alignment of focus, form, and feeling.

The day was all contradictions — high winds tearing across the grass, yet the air heavy with heat. On Northam Burrows, the sheep kept grazing as if nothing had changed, steady against the restless sky.

The rock, baked and weathered, seemed to hold the memory of countless such days. Blackberries clung to their stems, some still green, others dark and ripe, the wind rattling the brambles but not dislodging the fruit.

A thistle stood defiant, brittle but unbowed, while my bicycle lay still on the parched ground, the wheels warm to the touch after the ride.

It’s in this kind of weather — harsh but alive — that the landscape reveals itself. The heat presses down, the wind pulls you forward, and every detail, from stone to berry, feels sharpened by the struggle.

Northam Burrows never repeats itself. Each walk here is a new poem written in sky, sea, and weather.

🌊 Saltwater Serenity

Sea swimming isn’t just exercise — it’s therapy in motion. The saltwater cleanses, the minerals soothe, and the cold wakes every cell alive. Skin softens, mind clears, and the world feels simpler between each wave.

🎬 Some of my shots from the Austin Powers-themed charity night in Westward Ho!

A colourful evening in support of the incredible North Devon Hospice, full of groovy guests, far-out fashion, and brilliant community spirit.

From swinging suits to flower power vibes — it was a joy to capture the fun.

Here's the newspaper article:

Affectionately dubbed ‘Dan the Fish Man’, Clovelly-based fishmonger Dan Garnett takes his barrow to farmers’ markets all over North Devon delivering delicious, locally caught fish and seafood, plus cooking inspiration, to customers

Words and Photographs RAY SMITH

I shot the picture and wrote the article