Paul Ickovic, who has died aged 79, belonged to a generation of humanist photographers who strove to capture the poetry in ordinary lives with a compassionate lens. His nomadic early life had taught him to reject states and borders, and for him there was no state above that of human. He roamed the world’s streets in a search for moments that would spark discomfort and joy.
His photographs were often of solitary figures, capturing their moments of introspection and alienation; a chambermaid in Prague, a diner in Boston or a Cuban waitress. Location was unimportant, for he wanted the viewer to extrapolate from a single image and recognise something of themselves – to be upset or uplifted by the reflection. Yet he was always taciturn about the meaning of his photography, once saying: “It needs no explanation; if the work is provocative, it needs only to exist.”
