Magnum meeting in the London offices. England. 1994. © Peter Marlow / Magnum Photos
Chris Steele-Perkins, Magnum photographer and one of the most acute chroniclers of postwar Britain, has died aged 78. His friend, the photographer Homer Sykes, shares a personal note
Across five decades of image-making, Chris Steele-Perkins’s work defined strands of British documentary photography, yet was never parochial: he ranged across Afghanistan, Africa, and Japan as readily as London and Norfolk.
Born in Yangon, Myanmar in 1947 to a Burmese mother and English father, Steele-Perkins moved to the UK with his family at the age of two. He went on to study psychology at Newcastle before turning to photography in the early 1970s, first freelancing in London and soon publishing in The Sunday Times Magazine. By 1975, he was working alongside Paul Trevor and Nicholas Battye in the EXIT Photography Group, documenting social problems in British cities in the Survival Programmes project.
On 13 August 1977 he was on the ground in Lewisham, South London, when about 500 far-right National Front members attempted to march through the borough and town centre. Some 4000 counter-demonstrators turned out to stop them, and 5000 police were in attendance; by late afternoon pitched battles had broken out on the street, and police riot shields were being used in mainland UK for the first time.
“It was out of control!” he recalled to BJP’s Diane Smyth in 2019. “It was a kind of peak in London, of that kind of fighting in the street between the police and the demonstrators, but there wasn’t any sense that that was the case at the time. I thought it would go on for years.
“I don’t believe photography can change anything, but I do believe it can stand as a record”
“Part of the idea I had at the time was that civil disturbances could escalate into the situation we had in Northern Ireland,” he continued. “The streets in west Belfast were battle zones with soldiers with live ammunition on the corners, and I thought this could happen in mainland Britain.”
In 1979 Steele-Perkins published The Teds (1979) with writer Richard Smith, a book now regarded as a landmark of British social documentary for its affectionate portraits of the cultural codes of working-class youth and identity amidst economic decline. “It is a very truthful book,” he later said. “I was never interested in taking the piss out of them.”
Steele-Perkins joined Magnum Photos the same year, and by 1983 was a full member, placing him within the co-operative’s tradition of socially-engaged reportage. He reported widely abroad, working in Afghanistan during the Soviet invasion, then photographing famine in Africa, war in Lebanon, and rural life in Japan, where he later made his home with his wife, the photographer Miyako Yamada. His 2001 book Fuji traced the mountain’s presence in Japanese culture and landscape, while Imperial War Museum commissions saw him return to conflict themes, contributing to the institution’s visual record of Britain’s military history.
Steele-Perkins also continued to examine the UK, photographing the far right throughout the 1980s; he later came to question his approach to depicting them, however, arguing that focusing on a ‘short hair short hand’ makes for eye-catching images but misrepresents the issue. “The far right is depicted in photographs as the burly boys because it’s easy to do it that way,” he explained. “Skinheads shouting perhaps looks more intimidating than people with long hair shouting. The real problem is the people who don’t talk – the political classes behind it are really to blame.”
Steele-Perkins also continued to examine the UK, photographing the far right throughout the 1980s; he later came to question his approach to depicting them, however, arguing that focusing on a ‘short hair short hand’ makes for eye-catching images but misrepresents the issue. “The far right is depicted in photographs as the burly boys because it’s easy to do it that way,” he explained. “Skinheads shouting perhaps looks more intimidating than people with long hair shouting. The real problem is the people who don’t talk – the political classes behind it are really to blame.”
Sykes adds that, when in London, they often covered the same political demonstrations: “never together but always in a friendly competitive manner. At the time Chris lived in Homer House in Brixton, I too was a south Londoner so in those days we got together on a regular basis whenever Chris was in town. We discussed photography and played very competitive squash. We were equal, though he was slightly more competitive – a little faster on his feet than I. Only four years ago over a drink or two, we still couldn’t agree on who usually won those friendly games!”
Later Steele-Perkins returned to questions of British identity with different approaches, his 2009 book England, My England juxtaposing portraits of aristocrats with depictions of inner-city youth and migrants, and his four-year The New Londoners project documenting families from 187 countries living in the UK capital. “I hope it’s a more nuanced way of dealing with immigration,” he said, adding: “I don’t believe photography can change anything, but I do believe it can stand as a record.”
Magnum Photos announced Steele-Perkins death on 08 September 2025, recording “with great sadness” that he had died peacefully at the age of 78. “Very sadly he was diagnosed with Lewy body dementia some years ago, a progressive, complex and challenging condition,” added Sykes. “He died peacefully with his wife Miyako at his side in Tokyo.”
Later Steele-Perkins returned to questions of British identity with different approaches, his 2009 book England, My England juxtaposing portraits of aristocrats with depictions of inner-city youth and migrants, and his four-year The New Londoners project documenting families from 187 countries living in the UK capital. “I hope it’s a more nuanced way of dealing with immigration,” he said, adding: “I don’t believe photography can change anything, but I do believe it can stand as a record.”
Magnum Photos announced Steele-Perkins death on 08 September 2025, recording “with great sadness” that he had died peacefully at the age of 78. “Very sadly he was diagnosed with Lewy body dementia some years ago, a progressive, complex and challenging condition,” added Homer Sykes, a fellow photographer and friend for 50 years. “He died peacefully with his wife Miyako at his side in Tokyo.”
“I first met Chris at a private view in 1971 at The Photographers’ Gallery in Great Newport Street which Sue Davies had recently established; in the very early 1970’s, when we were both starting out on our photographic journeys, our paths were very similar, and we learned how to make photographs that told stories and sold. Not just street photographs but work that documented aspects of society that interested us and we felt would interest others too; sociological imagery that would have value long into the future.
“In those early years we both often covered Saturday afternoon political demonstrations and events in London. Neither of us had picture agents to sell on our behalf. You made prints and took them around to newspapers or magazines and tried to make a sale or and get a commission. For both of us it was a serious learning curve. Secondary sales if you were lucky were often made through personal contacts with different picture researchers, who worked on behalf of magazine and book publishers. Those were very different times and the market for our work was tiny and competitive.
“When in London we often covered the same political demonstrations, never together but always in a friendly competitive manner. At the time Chris lived in Homer House in Brixton, I too was a south Londoner so in those days we got together on a regular basis whenever Chris was in town. We discussed photography and played very competitive squash. We were equal, though he was slightly more competitive – a little faster on his feet than I. Only four years ago over a drink or two, we still couldn’t agree on who usually won those friendly games!
“I spent several Christmases with Chis and his family and many years later when times had changed as they so often do, Chris and Miyako lived in my office-flat for a while. We still played squash together until our late fifties, had dinners in Indian curry houses, we drank beers, discussed life, work, our respective agents, what was going wrong – often plenty and what was working well.
“I remember one evening very clearly, when Chris was telling me, unknowingly, about the most terrible nightmares and night-time hallucinations that he was having constantly. Very sadly we now know this was a precursor to Lewy body dementia. We just enjoyed each other’s work and the business of making it work, and the competition.”