Documentary Photography of a British Kitemaker | Mark Seymour
At 67, Roy Broadley was still making kites from his small workshop in the rural Hampshire village of Cliddesden, home to Kites Up, one of only a handful of specialist kite shops of its kind.
Roy had been fascinated by kites since his teenage years, initially making and flying them at weekends while working professionally as a car mechanic. At the age of 30, he decided to turn that fascination into his livelihood and began making kites full time.
One of the early opportunities that helped establish the business came when Roy secured the rights to supply other UK kite makers with ripstop material, using seconds originally produced for the balloon industry.
He began selling his own kites at festivals around Britain, gradually developing distinctive designs and building a complete range of his own. Over the years, some of those designs became collectable, with enthusiasts from around the world seeking Roy out to sign kites they had owned and flown for years.
As his reputation grew, so did the opportunities. Roy began teaching individuals and running workshops, both in Britain and in the United States, sharing not only how to construct a kite but the rather more important business of how to fly one.
But what interested me photographically was something much simpler.
Here was a man who had spent more than three decades making things by hand, surrounded by the materials, tools, designs and accumulated evidence of a working life devoted to a craft he genuinely loved.
That was the story I wanted to photograph.
From Power Kites to Flying Works of Art
Over the years, Roy’s work developed far beyond the traditional kites he had first started making.
For a period, he became particularly interested in power kites, designed to generate enough pull to propel a buggy across beaches and open ground at considerable speed, with the pilot using the kite almost like the sail of a boat.
One of Roy’s best-known designs was the Apache, a powerful vented and valved kite that could take him around a week to make by hand.
But some of his most distinctive creations were considerably more playful.
Many of Roy’s kites have names. Two enormous octopus designs, for example, are called Ian and Olivia, while other creations resemble giant flying totem poles. Inspiration often comes from the symmetry and patterns Roy sees in plants and the natural world.
The way the kites are decorated has also changed over the years. Earlier designs were painstakingly created from individual pieces of coloured fabric stitched together, whereas more recent techniques have allowed increasingly complex designs to be printed directly onto the material.
Roy has also drawn inspiration from the international community of kite makers he has met throughout his career.
One fellow maker in Tasmania, who still buys fabric from Roy, creates extraordinary combinations of colour and tone that Roy compares to the appearance of stained-glass windows.
That exchange of ideas is something I found particularly interesting. What might initially appear to be a rather solitary craft is actually connected to a small but passionate international community of makers, collectors and flyers.
Photographically, it gave me another part of Roy’s story to explore: not simply the man making kites in his Hampshire workshop, but the colour, craftsmanship and imagination contained within the objects themselves
From the Olympics to the Super Bowl
When I asked Roy about some of the highlights from more than 35 years of kite making, a few extraordinary moments emerged.
Perhaps the most memorable came in 2012, when his work was used as part of the London Olympic opening and closing ceremonies, including work connected with Take That.
Then, in 2016, Roy supplied kite-based props for Coldplay’s Super Bowl halftime performance. Other projects he mentioned almost casually included the Lord Mayor’s Show in London and Glastonbury Festival.
It’s quite a remarkable journey for something that began with a teenager making and flying kites at weekends and eventually became a lifetime’s work.
Towards the end of our time together, I asked Roy what a typical day in the life of a kitemaker looked like.
His answer probably explains why, well into his sixties, he was still working.
“That’s the beauty of it. I never know. Every day is different. I still work because I love what I do.”
That particular morning he’d received a substantial order from a television company producing a high-profile advertising campaign and wanting to recreate something from years earlier.
And then Roy added another rather important part of his daily routine:
“Although at four o’clock most days, I do like to make my way to the pub for a pint or two of ale.”
After more than three decades of making kites, teaching, travelling and seeing his work appear everywhere from major public events to international performances, Roy still seemed most content simply being in his workshop, making things he loved.
And, apparently, knowing when it was time to stop for a pint.
VII Photography Agency and the 1 in 6 by 2030 Project
Roy’s story eventually became part of a much wider international documentary photography project.
While attending a three-day VII Photography Agency summer workshop in Arles, France, I worked with documentary photographers Ed Kashi and Ilvy Njiokiktjien.
After seeing my documentary project on dementia, Ed approached me about contributing to 1 in 6 by 2030, an international documentary project exploring ageing and the changing relationship between people, work and retirement.
The title reflects the demographic shift behind the project: by 2030, one in six people worldwide will be aged 60 or over.
Photographers from different countries were invited to contribute individual stories to the Work or Retire chapter of the project.
When I came across Roy and discovered that, at 67, he was still working every day simply because he loved what he did, I immediately knew he would make a perfect subject.
My resulting photographic story, Every Day Is Different, was subsequently published as part of the project, documenting Roy, his workshop, his extraordinary kites and a working life built around something he still genuinely loved doing.
What began as a story about one man making kites in a small Hampshire village became something broader: a story about craft, purpose, ageing and the relationship between our work and our identity.
For me, that’s what documentary photography can do particularly well. A story can begin with one person and one very particular set of circumstances, but ultimately say something much more universal.
View Mark Seymour’s complete “Every Day Is Different” story ohttps://www.1in6by2030.com/stories/every-day-is-differentn 1 in 6 by 2030 →
Commission a Documentary Photography Story
Roy’s story is also a good example of the way I approach commercial documentary photography: spending time with people in their real environment and creating photographs that reveal the people, skills, character and story behind what they do.
I undertake selected documentary photography commissions for brands, businesses and organisations in the UK and internationally.
If you have a person, business, craft or organisation with a story worth telling, you can find out more about my approach to commercial documentary photography and discuss a potential commission.
Explore Documentary Photography Commissions →
