Chris Duffy
Chris Duffy (60) is a photographer. He runs the archive of his late father’s work. Brian Duffy, known as Duffy, photographed many famous people, including David Bowie. Born in London, Chris lives in Gloucestershire
Generally, I get up at 6am. I live in Gloucestershire. It’s a lovely view out the window — rolling hills and green fields. Even though I grew up in the East End of London, I’ve always had the country in my heart. It’s my Irish heritage.
My grandparents were Irish, and they came from very large families. So I’ve always had a very strong Irish connection. I travel on an Irish passport and my uncle was the tours manager for Aer Lingus. He introduced me to the west of Ireland and the magnificent limestone around Lough Corrib.
As a kid, I used to spend a lot of time there. I learnt how to fly-fish. Even now, that’s why my life works so well. Half of the time, I’m in the country, and the other half, I’m in the city. When I go up to London, it’s a completely different dynamic. You can go to an exhibition or a restaurant. But then, I also like being able to retreat back to the country.
In the mornings, I switch on BBC Radio 4. I make a pot of coffee, have a shower, and then I’m straight out the door. I don’t hang about. I drive through the village in my 4 x 4. I need it, because I live at the top of a hill that is steep and muddy.
I run my father’s photographic archive. My father was Brian Duffy, a prominent British photographer who chronicled the swinging 1960s. He passed away in 2010, and I have been running his photographic archive since 2008. We were in London originally, but we relocated down to Gloucestershire. Now the archive is housed in a fantastic barn built in 1630. I was a photographer. I worked for my dad for seven years and then, just as he did, I worked across the board in fashion, beauty, advertising and music. I gave up photography in 1985 to form a film production company with my brother and my dad.
My dad gave up photography and went into furniture restoration. He was always ahead of the game. He foresaw that photography, for him, was coming to an end. He knew that he would lose control, and that his unique approach wouldn’t be needed any more. He was a great believer in burning your bridges because it forced you to move on to a new path.
One day, he grabbed a ton of prints and negatives and started a bonfire in the garden. When you burn a roll of film, the plastic base produces very acrid smoke. A neighbour complained and called the council. They made my father put out the fire, and I will be forever grateful to them for that. For example, I know that he did half-a-dozen sessions with John Lennon, but we’ve only got two. As a result of the bonfire, there are big chunks missing in the archive.
People often asked my dad to do documentaries and interviews, but he had no interest. My bugbear was that he was so great in his time, and I told him that he had to get his place in history. It was only when he was terminally ill that he allowed me to pick up the ball and run with it with this archive. It has been a great honour to have such amazing assets.
The archive slowly gained momentum, and the David Bowie exhibition in 2013, David Bowie Is, turbo-charged us. It went around the world. This new exhibition coming to Dublin is based on five different sessions that Duffy did with Bowie. When it comes to work, I always refer to my dad as Duffy.
Duffy shot one of the most iconic pop images — the Aladdin Sane image, which was the one with the lightning bolt across Bowie’s face. David was a complex character, and my dad was, too. It was a meeting of minds, and they were both big lovers of art. David was always feeling his way around, utilising any ideas that he could find. I think he was fascinated with my dad’s approach. They were both perfectionists, and they worked very well together. David said that he was working on an album called A Lad
Insane and Duffy interpreted that as
Aladdin Sane. That became the album title. Bowie wanted the lightning bolt, as he had seen Elvis use it too. But when the make-up artist did it on him, Duffy thought that it was too small. He told them to wipe it off and do it bigger, with red lipstick. He got the idea of the blue and red flash from an emblem on a rice cooker that his mother had given him. He showed it to David, and he loved it.
My dad’s talent was to get under the skin of someone’s personality and expose that in a photo. Before he took a photo, he
“Bowie was a complex character, and my dad was, too. It was a meeting of minds”
played mental chess with the person. That’s what made his images so distinctive. At the moment, he is most known for his Bowie photos, but he did so much more. He had very high standards in everything he did. When he moved on to furniture restoration, he became so good at it that he ended up lecturing at universities on his technique.
At the end of a working day, I get back to the cottage at 8pm. I cook something, watch the news and then around 10pm, I call it a day. I might watch a bit of YouTube and catch up on emails before lights out. Then I start off again.