Memories of Martin

“Love of life: It can’t have happened. Martin Parr has died, not un-suspected, but just impossible, he was so constantly full of life, especially for others,” wrote David Hurn of his late colleague and friend, Martin Parr (b. 1952), shortly after his passing.

Following Parr’s death on December 6, 2025, at the age of 73, an outpouring of dedications, tributes and memories came in from his colleagues at Magnum to both mourn his absence and celebrate his life.

Hurn, who knew Martin for 50 years, reflected on Parr’s enthusiasm and generosity, writing: “He was/is known as a photographer, a photographer loved by the public – one hears one say – ‘it’s a Martin Parr.’ No other photographer — certainly not in my lifetime — has ever had that distinction.

“But for me, as important as his pictures, which by the way I loved, was the behind-the-curtain stuff. The founding of a foundation, building a book archive, and above all, wonderful teaching and the support and encouragement of others. He was the most generous of persons.

“I knew Martin since his first post-college show, in the 1970s, ‘Home Sweet Home’ — my memory was at the Arnolfini Bristol but checking, it might have been the Impressions Gallery in York. I loved the show — I actually bought a print of a circus performer, I think for £6, now in the collection of the National Museum in Cardiff, I suspect the first print he ever sold. I hope it is fair to say we have/had been friends ever since.

“Martin was very wise, had an important gift of memory, he seemed never to forget a face, he was humorous, and he was a wonderful talker. In the many conversations we had together in front of packed audiences, he never failed to come up with an original idea/point of view, he led the conversations. I am shocked by the gulf left, certainly in my life. I can think of no other who has contributed so much — contributed such variance.”

Mark Power, a long-time friend and colleague of Parr’s, wrote: “Yesterday, like so many of us, I was mourning Martin, remembering our times together, shedding some tears, and trying to come to terms with the fact that I’ll never see him again. But then I thought: What would Martin expect me to do right now? Mope around in my hotel room all day, or go out and make some pictures? It was strange, but I felt as if Martin was with me all day, looking down on this solitary figure lost somewhere in West Virginia, as I’m sure he was with everyone who loved him, everywhere.”

Power dedicated a photograph he took that day to Martin, adding, “Thank you for being you, you beautiful, precious, special man.”

Stuart Franklin reflects on Parr’s tireless engagement with students and young photographers, a quality that many who knew Parr remember him for.

“This picture of Martin was taken around 2015 in his home in Bristol when all or most of his photobooks were on the shelves,” Franklin writes. “He’s sitting on the floor, utterly enthused in front of a group of MA students. He’s turning the pages of a book dummy of Chris Killip’s In Flagrante. In turn, the students are totally absorbed, hanging onto Martin’s every word. This is how I remember Martin best: his generosity around younger or aspiring photographers, his charm and lively sense of humor.”

Parr was also mourned by the international photography community at large. Dewi Lewis of Dewi Lewis Publishing, Parr’s long-time collaborator and publisher of his photobooks The Last Resort, Small World, Autoportrait, Black Country Stories, Common Sense and From Our House to Your House, looked back over the decades spent with Parr.

“Somehow I think I believed that Martin would always be there. He had the most extraordinary drive and energy, and such an enthusiasm for everything he was involved in. He was such a force of nature. And yet he always had time for others, time to look at the work of other photographers and give advice, time to chat, time to let anyone and everyone take selfies with him. And, almost always, with a gentleness, a warmth and a smile, no matter what pressure he himself was under.

“I knew Martin for over 40 years, probably even longer as I think I first met him briefly in 1976/77 when I exhibited his chimney pots photos at a gallery I ran in Bury, North Manchester. We met again in the mid-1980s, firstly when my wife, Caroline, worked for the DPA which commissioned his 1985 Salford project and then at Cornerhouse, where I was Director, for his 1986 show “Connections.” Shortly afterwards our publishing relationship began and over the years we worked on so many books together – and, particularly in those early days, it was all so energizing and so exciting.

“Martin was immensely loyal, with friendships stretching back so many years. His family, his wife Susie and his daughter Ellen, will be devastated as will all those many friends.

“Martin and I were in contact several times over recent months. His energy and his enthusiasm seemed undiminished. We were looking to the future, working on a new, revised edition of Autoportrait, as well as planning a special 40th anniversary facsimile edition of The Last Resort, the book that helped to launch his career when he self-published it back in 1986.

“Martin has gone but the Foundation he set up remains and his work and his unerring commitment to photography and photographers will live on for many generations. Thank you for everything, Martin.”

For Cristina De Middel, Parr was a significant source of inspiration and influence in her career.

“Martin has left us despite being invincible,” she wrote. “A rare combination of talent, humor, vision and generosity is gone when we most need it.” She remembers the moment they first met at Arles, an interaction that “really changed my life,” she said. De Middel’s self-published project The Afronauts was picked up in Arles by Parr, who told her he admired her work.

“I was totally paralyzed,” she recalls in her online course at Magnum. “Imagine the shock — me, a staff photographer at a local newspaper in Spain, and then all of a sudden, Martin Parr is having a coffee with me and telling me that my work is great. It changed everything.”

De Middel — who participated in one of Parr’s “Sofa Sessions” with the Martin Parr Foundation —  wrote in the wake of his passing, “To be honest, I am still shocked and coming to terms with the idea of not having Martin around and posting a picture.”

Alec Soth also shared a moving tribute to the late photographer.

“I’m in China, and several people here have asked whether I’m worried about the future of photography because of AI,” Soth wrote. “Honestly, I’m far more worried about the future of photography without MP. Martin has been the guiding light—FLASH!—of the medium for decades. He met every new wave of change with curiosity, generosity, and an infectious laugh. The photography world feels much more grim without him.⁣”

Soth continues, “As different as my work was from his, Martin was my role model. Beyond his work ethic, I admired his lack of cynicism and utter comfort in being his goofy, singular self. I’m going to miss him terribly. But I know Martin wouldn’t want to hear moaning about his passing anymore than he’d want to hear about AI killing photography. He’d rather we just get out the door and interact with the great human comedy.”

In a subsequent post on social media, Soth remarked, “Martin was always so forward-looking, so outward-looking. He would go out, and he would press on forward. He was not mopey. And we need that energy.”

Trent Parke also reflected on his warm memories of meeting Parr, and the friendship they sparked.

“I will never forget my first Magnum meeting in London. I thought I was a day early when in fact, I was a day late. To my shock, the meeting was well underway when I was ushered to closed doors by staff. I knocked and entered. The members were in a heated discussion in a large room and all turned to see what the interruption was. You could hear a pin drop. I was standing there like a stunned mullet in my Okanui board shorts, suntan and flip-flops. Alex Webb broke the silence when he said ‘you must be Trent from Australia.’ It was then that I encountered Martin’s wonderfully loud, raucous laugh.

“The meeting soon broke for tea and Martin came straight over. Grin beaming from ear to ear. I think it was my flowered boardies or my entrance in general that appealed to him. He offered me a wager that would end up lasting a lifetime. A print on the result of the Ashes.

“Martin launched more young photographers’ careers than anyone. He was so very generous. He would always have a new book. (Over 150 in the end). Autoportraits of his very British self, boring couples, Saddam Hussein Watches. I remember this book being pulled out and passed around a dinner table in a NY restaurant and marveling at its flashing golden brilliance.

“This was what I loved most. While other photogs were overseas trying to hunt Saddam down, Martin was making a lavish golden book of his watches. The sheer absurdity of it all. That was Martin. I shot a polaroid to remind me of that moment.

Parke adds, “I will cherish the memories of Books on Photography (the Martin Parr Foundation’s annual photobook festival). I can still hear his footsteps creaking down the stairs to the guest room of his house at 6.30 am each day to bring me Yorkshire tea. And to get me out of bed! Time was wasting. MPF was waiting. I knew when we walked out the door on the final day it might be the last time I see him. So far from the land of OZ.

“On the day when England were smashed again in the 2nd Ashes test, I expected an email from Martin. There was none. I still can’t believe it. So sudden. So very sad to have lost him. He always seemed an unstoppable force. Our thoughts are with Susie and everyone at the Martin Parr Foundation, England was lucky to have him. Martin FANTASTIC Parr.”

The Martin Parr Foundation, founded by Parr in 2017 in Bristol to support photographers whose work focuses on the United Kingdom and Ireland, have set up an online platform where people can share memories and tributes to Parr.

Read more on Martin Parr’s life and legacy here: Remembering Martin Parr (1952-2025)