The iconic red bus is emblematic of London, adorning countless souvenirs and collectibles. There are 675 bus routes in the city, which are traversed by 9,300 vehicles. On average, people make around 5 million journeys every day. Photographer Steve Madden’s new book captures a small snapshot of these commuters and travellers. Madden would spend the mornings on the radio for the BBC, and then head into Central London whenever it rained. The bad weather would lead to condensation on the windows and create abstract scenes. The resulting images depict the visual experience of seeing an endless stream of unidentifiable people moving past, with flashes of colourful clothes against the harsh lighting of public transport. Now, a selection of these beautiful images are published by GOST Books. Aesthetica caught up with the artist to discuss how the project came about, the role of photography of documenting an ever-changing location and what’s next for him.
A: Tell us about how you got into working behind the lens – where did it all begin?
SM: I started making pictures when I was 9, on holiday in Edinburgh. I think I was born to do this – it just felt intuitive, even then. My first pictures were terrible, of course, but I learn quickly, so by the time I was 14 or 15, I had my first pictures published with a front-page splash in my local newspaper. Shortly afterwards, I was getting published in transport books and magazines, and more generally too. When I was at Cambridge, I submitted pictures to the university newspaper, Varsity.
A: Your book The Grind captures the quiet beauty of anonymous commuters behind the misted bus windows of London. How did the idea for this project come to you?
SM: The origins of The Grind go back a long way. I first had the idea in October 2005 when I saw a woman on a bus in Shaftesbury Avenue (London’s theatreland), trying not to fall asleep. She was perfectly framed by the window. It was an OK picture, but other projects and life got in the way, so it wasn’t till January 2017 that I came back to it in earnest. I’d gone to Euston Station on the day of an Underground Strike, to photograph the crowds. As I stood in the rain, I noticed how beautiful people looked through the condensation on the bus windows. I was ecstatic, and knew I’d have to continue. I was also soaked. My shoes took five days to dry out.
A: What were the biggest challenges of creating a project like this?
SM: The challenges are many. Not photographic ones – it’s just a DSLR with a zoom lens. The exposures can be quite long in the near-dark, but I’m blest with steady hands. No, the challenge is just the physical discomfort. I was prepared to stand in puddles in the rain, or extreme cold, for a few hours at a time, and it can be grim. There was a particularly smelly doorway in Waterloo, for instance. Once you’ve found the right spot and pictures are flowing, you forget the challenging surroundings.

A: You’ve said that there were certain bus stops – Finsbury Park, Hounslow, Islington, Waterloo, Whitechapel – you were repeatedly drawn to. What were you looking for when you set out to take these photographs and what was it about these locations that fit that idea?
SM: Honestly, I was merely drawn to where I thought I’d get the best shots. Once I got started, I wanted to capture the diverse demographic of Londoners. It’s not meant purely as social commentary, but I hope the variation in social class, wealth, lifestyle, fashion is there in the book. It’s easy for me to see it, because I was there. I travelled all over London, and I found about eight locations that gave me something special. It helps to know London and its buses, but much of it is common sense.
A: The misted windows in your photographs create a unique abstraction, often obscuring faces and creating a dreamlike quality. How important is the element of mystery in your work?
SM: The mystery element is so important. The dream-like quality, if you like. The project evolved over the three winters so when I started, the pictures were much more like portraits, easy to read. But it grew into something much more abstract. Stuart Smith at GOST Books helped convince me the puzzling ones work best, and other photographers felt that too. You have to listen to what the pictures are telling you. And what your friends say. At least one of the Grind images has no people in it at all.

A: In your photos, there’s an evident emotional complexity in the commuters you photograph – moments of introspection, joy, sadness and connection. Were you looking to offer a different perspective on a city that can often be perceived as anonymous and disconnected?
SM: I just wanted to capture the huge range of emotions. I don’t think it’s a comment on London as a city, but I think people could work out from the images which city it is. It would be interesting to show people the images with no introduction and get them to work out “where we are.” But you’re right, so much of human experience is there on the faces – there’s boredom, exhaustion, laughter, bewilderment, anxiety, sadness, blank stares and joy, for instance. Even hunger! There’s much more variety in the ones we didn’t use – it’s agony to leave out some of your favourites, some of which tell yet other stories.
A: Do you have a personal favourite image from the series?
SM: There’s one I’ve always called “yellow head.” The Strand, 27 November 2018. I saw a guy on the upper deck, before the bus had even stopped. I was muttering “Don’t turn your head. Look straight ahead, like that”, and it fell into my lap. I got three shots, then the bus was gone. The first shot was the best, as so often. Mr Yellowhead is the final picture in the book.

A: London is always changing and moving, and some of the location or routes you’ve captured are no longer there. How do you feel about the role of photography of documenting and pausing a particular moment in time?
SM: Photography is about so many things, but it’s probably more about history than anything. When you press that shutter, you create a historical document. Every time. The significance can take years, or even decades, to emerge. But it’s there in every shot. We photographers are the luckiest artists of all – we get to nail that thousandth-of-a-second, what Joel Meyerowitz calls “tearing a moment out of the fabric of life” – and it will always be there. What a gift! Think of your school photograph. We don’t know it at the time, but we’re capturing something that may be history tomorrow. All these pictures were made pre-Covid. Nobody saw that coming. And it’s changed so much about humanity. The Grind pictures look contemporary, but they won’t always.

A: Who, or what, are you biggest creative inspirations?
SM: Specifically, for this project? Nobody. Maybe Michael Wolf was at the back of my subconscious. But more generally? I’m convinced we are affected by everything we’ve ever seen, so who knows? I’ve long admired so many photographers – the French humanists, so Henri Cartier-Bresson, Robert Doisneau, Marc Riboud, and especially Willy Ronis. Then in 1984, I stumbled on William Klein, and my life was never quite the same. Klein broke every rule and created some of my favourite images ever. Half a dozen of his pictures, I carry round in my head. As for colour, I love Saul Leiter, Ernst Haas, as well as Bruce Davidson and Harry Gruyaert.
A: What are you working on right now? Anything we can look forward to?
SM: There’s more to come. I have two projects finished that I’d like to get published really soon – one is about a London place, the other about an international event. I’m always working on two or three projects at a time, so right now I have three projects on the go, one of which is very abstract.
The Grind is published by GOST Books: gostbooks.com
Words: Emma Jacob & Steve Madden
Image credits:
Strand, November 2018 © Steve Madden.
Waterloo, January 2020 © Steve Madden.
Whitechapel, November 2018 © Steve Madden.
Hounslow, December 2018 © Steve Madden.
Strand, November 2018 © Steve Madden.