Straight out of the ordinary

Stephen Gill's photographs are difficult to read. They are as plain as can be in style and content, studiedly inscrutable, mundane yet mysterious. They appear impeccably lit and perfectly composed by happy accident, the presence of the photographer being detectable only in the fact that the photograph has been taken.

His subjects are unlikely but Gill covers them exhaustively: extensive series on roadworks (often unmanned), cashpoints (just the keyboards and screens, you understand), people's backs and gallery warders fill his archive.

I happen to know his enthusiasm is sincere: he once sat in our kitchen marvelling with absolute seriousness at the variety of colourways those wheeled, tartan shopping carts come in. He'd visited the factory, the culmination of a two-year study of old ladies and their wheelies called 'trolleys'.

This latest series is no less enigmatic. It centres on Hackney Wick, that area between the Eastway 106, the Grand Union Canal and the River Lea that's also known as the 'black market' - a reference to the sprawling scrapyard that has sprung up on this wasteland.

For once, Gill is not invisible. Despite using an unobtrusive Bakelite camera purchased at the market for 50p, he is clearly an object of suspicion in this unlicensed economy.

But the results bear all the hallmarks of Gill at his best: photos most of us would chuck out after getting them back from Snappy Snaps exert a compelling fascination while raising the question, 'Why did he take that?' A perplexing but truly original talent.