In recent decades, David Yarrow (Glasgow, 1966) has photographed some of the world's most iconic personalities, sports moments and endangered species. The attention to his work has translated into exceptional auction results. This success has already allowed David to donate some 15 million euros to charities, making him one of the most influential photographers in the world. Last November he was in Amsterdam to launch his latest book Storytelling and open the exhibition of the same name at Kunsthuis Amsterdam. MASTERS sought out the legendary photographer.

What memories do you keep of your childhood in Glasgow, where you came into the world in 1966?

"My earliest memories are of the Glasgow of the early 1970s, a period when the city was characterized by heavy industries, especially shipbuilding and coal mining. Our family was active in shipbuilding, a trade that passed from generation to generation with a large yard as the focal point of our existence. Unfortunately, Glasgow was also known for its division between Protestants and Catholics. I remember well how my father, despite our Protestant background, was secretly a fan of Celtic, the soccer club with a Catholic identity. Many workers in our yard were supporters of the club that made it to the final of the European Cup I in 1970. To avoid being recognized, my father parked the car two kilometers from the stadium and wore a balaclava. The strain of this hidden loyalty and Celtic's successes, with players like Tommy Gemmell and Kenny Dalglish, paint a picture of a grim time when sports served as an outlet. Besides soccer, golf occupied an important place in our lives: the region is rich in golf courses. And I was adept at snooker. As the youngest in a family with three, later four children, I sometimes felt like an outsider. A feeling reinforced by my parents' turbulent relationship, which eventually led to their divorce. Their arguments drove me to solitary hours at the snooker table, away from the domestic turmoil. Furthermore, I was shaped in my youth by the harsh lessons of life at a boarding school in Pitlochry, a village in the north of Scotland. It was much like Hogwarts, the school of Harry Potter. The mornings there were so cold that the washcloths froze."

How did you get in touch with photography?

"My mother remarried a photographer who specialized in documenting horse events. Not that he walked in with that. Money was always scarce in our household. My mother was a sculptor of great talent but struggled to market her art. This made for a childhood surrounded by art, but also with the struggles of an artist. These experiences have deeply influenced me. I work continuously, barely taking time for vacations, constantly on the road for new productions or to show my work. Perhaps this drive was partly shaped by the times when I slept in a trailer with my mother out of financial need. My mother's poverty and artistic integrity taught me that art must also be commercial to be successful. Creativity alone is not enough; it must also be marketable. My first introduction to photography was in my stepfather's darkroom. Seeing photographs appear in the developer was a revelation, an almost spiritual experience. That ignited in me the passion that would shape me into who I am today."

"I work continuously, hardly take time for vacations"

 

As a 20-year-old, you were on the field as a photographer for The London Times during the 1986 World Cup final in Mexico City. How did you manage that?

"Because I was photographing soccer matches of top division teams for a magazine, I qualified for accreditation for the World Cup in Mexico. Alec Ferguson's Scotland had qualified and was in a pool with Denmark, Germany and Uruguay. We had to win the final group game against Uruguay. But unfortunately we got stuck at 0-0. I was there and hated it: I was more fan than photographer. FIFA had a rule that each qualifying country could have one photographer on the field. Since all the other Scottish photographers had already gone home after the elimination, I got the chance to photograph the final Argentina - Germany (3-2) at the Estadio Azteca. Not that I was that great, I was simply very lucky with my photo of Diego Maradona holding up the World Cup amidst a frenzied crowd. It would become one of the best-selling sports photos of all time, good for a total of about one million dollars in revenue. I own the rights to the photo and to this day receive requests. Of course, on that day, June 29, 1986, I had no idea of the impact this photo would have on my career."

In the same year, you were named Young Scottish Photographer of the Year. Despite these successes, you chose a career in finance. Why?

"As a photographer I felt a bit like the best Dutch skier: I had little competition to face in Scotland and then it is not difficult to be successful. I did still report on the 1988 Olympics, but simply found no role models within the press to whom I could relate. Many photographers seemed bitter and unhappy, often angry or on alcohol. They didn't exactly inspire me. In addition, I realized the saturation in the market. My photos, which I thought were unique in composition or use of light, often turned out to be identical to those of as many as twenty other photographers. With my basic understanding of economics, I knew this was not a sustainable route. At the same time, Oliver Stone was romanticizing the world of Wall Street and many of my friends were going into the investment world. I saw the financial world as an opportunity to learn and meet interesting people. The starting salary was the same as what I was earning as a photographer, but the prospects in finance were much greater. And so I made the switch. I worked as a stockbroker in London and New York, became Director of Equities at Natwest Securities and founded my own hedge fund. My career in finance brought much prosperity, but little happiness: the stress and long hours were at the expense of my marriage. Every crisis I felt personally. My life was a constant dealing with problems, which I absorbed like a sponge. It was a constant struggle. The financial crisis of 2008 hit me hard. My company, with 40 employees, was at the epicenter of the chaos. Almost overnight everything collapsed due to circumstances beyond my control."

What drove you to choose photography at this crossroads in your life?

"During this tough time, the camera was my only outlet. But how could I earn enough from that? Every night I worked on a new business model, inspired by the TV series Breaking Bad. I realized that if I could create a strong enough brand and product, it had to be possible to make money sleeping. I had calculated that in order to pay school fees and alimony, among other things, I needed to earn half a million dollars a year. Whereas the average annual salary of a photographer was around $35,000. It was an ambitious goal, but I was determined to achieve it."

How did you manage that?

"An all-important moment in my career was the photo I took of a shark attacking a seal. This Jaws photo, which I had shot for fun while still working in finance, was sold worldwide in 2009. At the time, the sale was still through Getty Images. I was paid about $25,000, but the cost of the entire production was about $30,000. I was suffering a loss. Everything changed when a Houston lawyer nicknamed Jaws called me. He wanted the picture to hang in his office. How much I wanted for it? Uncertain of the price, I suggested $7,000, fearing I had bet too high. To my surprise, he immediately wanted to buy four for that amount. That was the moment I realized that the value of a photograph in the art market was many times higher than in journalism. Inspired by this insight, in 2011 I wrote a paper on the future of photography, predicting that the art market would be the only viable way to make money from photography. Despite the criticism I received, my vision proved correct. That moment, that realization, marked a turning point, and it turned out to be one of the things I had done right in my life. In the art world, it is essential to look beyond the literal representation of reality; this is a point many nature photographers struggle with. The art of capture is about more than just showing how something looks; it's about adding an extra layer. The value of photography in the art world is determined not only by the image itself, but also by what it represents. The iconic photographs of Muhammad Ali, for example, are valuable because they are more than a sports moment; they embody an era and a personality that transcends sports. This illustrates how a photograph can gain value through the broader context in which it stands. The president of Tate Modern once emphasized that for him, nature photography is the least attractive in art because it represents reality without artistic addition. It is this artistic addition that defines art. It is about creating something authentic and original. That is what resonates and sticks with people. Thus photography becomes more than an image: it becomes a story, a statement or an issue, deeply rooted in the search for originality and meaning."

Besides Maradona and Jaws, what other picture represents a milestone in your career?

"That's one I shot during the civil war in South Sudan, Manchild. This image, with both depth and a certain serenity, had a huge impact and felt like Dante's Inferno - haunting and hellish. It was authentic and had a biblical scope. It was the start of a momentum. Selling work through galleries requires a balance of risk and reward. With the South Sudan image, my work spread worldwide and my name was definitively established. My hard work and ambition to keep getting better remain at the core of my endeavor. It is similar to a top athlete who keeps practicing, not because of the money, but to stay at the top."

As with many photographers, female models are a recurring phenomenon in your work. How do you distinguish yourself?

"Unlike much traditional art photography, the women I photograph usually keep their clothes on. In fact, I actually emphasize clothing and setting to convey a particular story or feeling and add an extra layer of parody, humor or beauty. That is not the only thing that sets my approach apart: I have partnered with some of the greatest models in the world on a basis that is as much philanthropic as it is business. These collaborations are unique because the models have the opportunity to earn a million dollars in one day, an amount unusual even for them. This arrangement requires trust on their part. As we become more successful, it becomes easier to gain this trust. We adopt a disruptive business model where we cover the production costs, which can be as high as $200,000. Once these costs are covered, we share the profits 50/50 with the model. This means they have no financial risk; their only risk is an unproductive day with no profit. But if they succeed, they earn half the profit. This format has been applied to collaborations with all kinds of celebrities, from John McEnroe to Cindy Crawford. With the latter, I did a project where we were able to donate a check for $3.5 million to a pediatric cancer hospital with a single photo. It's been a long road to get to this point, the result of thirty-five years of learning, experimentation and refinement."

"My photo of Diego Maradona holding up the World Cup amid a frenzied crowd would become one of the best-selling sports photos of all time."

 

What does charity mean to you?                

"Charity is a way to give more meaning to what we do. It humbles you, it gives life more depth. I think we've raised about 15 million for charity in the last five to six years. That fills me with pride."

Do you photograph for a better world?

"Yes, although I am aware that my impact is minimal: the proverbial drop in the bucket. Recently we photographed Erling Haaland. We couldn't have done that if we hadn't promised that the proceeds would go to disadvantaged Norwegian neighborhoods. Such small projects make a difference on a small level, but will not change the world. Presidents change the world, artists do not. Similarly, I photographed forest fires in Australia, the proceeds of which, one and a half million, we donated to the Australian Koala Foundation. But I don't go down all the fires; I'm not a war photographer. But the forest fires had something visual."

Like an erupting volcano in Iceland?

"Yes, but there are so many pictures of that already. How can that still be art? The key to good art is often precisely uniqueness. For example, I tried to portray North Korean leader Kim Jong-Un. It turned out to be too complicated, although I came close to the second skin."

If you yourself were world leader for one day, what would you change?

"What concerns me greatly is the discrepancy between salaries in the public sector and investment banking, for example. Politicians earn less than a starter at Goldman Sachs. We complain about bad politicians and bad services, but what do we expect with such low salaries? I am not a socialist, but I do think people should be paid well. I wonder if the gap between rich and poor, especially for those in the service sector, should not be reduced. We saw during covid how overburdened and underpaid health care workers are. Furthermore, I believe that gun ownership should be banned in America. I am aware that there is a strong political lobby that believes that gun ownership is a fundamental right. But given the many lives destroyed by mass shootings, I think the use of automatic weapons should be addressed. I can understand someone wanting to have a gun at home for self-defense, but no one needs a gun that can fire 50 bullets in one second."

For LVMH, you photographed a campaign with Cara Delevingne in 2017. When do you feel more comfortable: during a commercial shoot with a large crew or alone with your camera in the bush?

"I actually enjoy the diversity in my work. Working with a crew brings a variety that enriches and keeps my work from becoming monotonous. And I never venture into the bush alone with a camera. Even when photographing animals I work together with experts such as the 'Lion Whisperer'. Precisely these collaborations allow me to portray animals in all their glory. I always look for the perfect angle, the uplifting pose, the direct look in the eyes. But I am not a traditional wildlife photographer who spends weeks in the wilderness for that one shot. I see art as magnifying and glorifying my subject, not passively waiting for it. However, the definition of art is not up to me, but to the viewer. I do not pretend to dictate what art is; I do what I do and it is up to others to judge its value and beauty."

How do you see the role of photography in the fight for conservation?

"Photography plays a crucial role in how we understand the world, especially when it comes to showing the beauty of animals. These images create awareness and appreciation. In this context, zoos are very important; they provide education and a chance to see animals that many would otherwise never experience. Good zoos contribute to awareness, research and conservation. However, the world of photography has changed. The work is not always appreciated and sometimes even subject to criticism. Twenty years ago a unique photograph of a giraffe would be celebrated, today the same photograph can lead to accusations of disturbing nature. This led me to withdraw from animal photography. It has become a politically charged and sometimes toxic field. I shifted my focus to supporting pediatric cancer research, an area that no one can criticize. This reflects my need to contribute positively away from the controversies of wildlife photography. And although I still photograph animals, it's not like it used to be. The market is saturated, many aspiring photographers are trying to follow in my footsteps. But they don't realize that we thoroughly prepare every photograph. We don't just go on a trip to portray a wild animal. We leave nothing to chance, buy in expertise. When we went to Alaska this summer, we spent $65,000. Count on that to give you a better chance of getting that moment than the person who spends only $2,000."

You have traveled to the most remote and inhospitable areas. What have such trips meant to you as a human being?

"My travels and experiences have influenced me deeply. I have gone all over the world, from North Korea to areas controlled by al-Qaida. These experiences shape the lens through which I look and the stories I tell. They emphasize the importance of preparation and investment in capturing that one unique photograph, and a reminder that the world, despite its complexity and controversies, remains an amazing place. In that respect, I am a romantic."

Have you ever felt threatened?

"My most terrifying moments were not with wild animals, but with people. Those are often more dangerous than animals because they can drink, use drugs and buy weapons. Although gorillas can also get high on certain kinds of sugar, haha. But I am always wary, especially of hippos. I have also found myself in predicaments on occasion, like the time I fell into the ocean while photographing orcas in Siberia, without a wetsuit, with heavy cameras around my neck. Not that the orcas were the danger, but the severe hypothermia."

MASTERS Magazine

Curious about the rest of the interview? How passion, craftsmanship and enthusiasm can excite the senses. That is the theme of the spring edition of MASTERS, which takes us past many hospitality entrepreneurs: from the big winner of the last Michelin ceremony, Jurgen van der Zalm of Vinkeles, to 'Hospitality Entrepreneur of the Year' Herman Hell. Speaking of Michelin, what is actually the impact of the green star, which saw the light of day in 2021? MASTERS put that question to six prominent chefs. Dennis Albada Jelgersma, over a business lunch at Bridges restaurant, explains how he farms as a wine farmer and celebrates life: "Not with a cube of cheese and a lukewarm pipe." That a good outfit is like a feast for the eyes is proven by the appetizing creations in Culinary Couture. David Yarrow's fascinating photography is also a feast for the eyes. We step into the Lucid Air Touring to experience whether the electric car can work on the senses as much as the internal combustion engine. And we enter heaven for audiophiles: Bang & Olufsen Brussee. In short: plenty of stimuli for the reading buds. An issue to savour!

Order MASTERS Magazine #57 here