HEROES & VILLAINS demonstrates the amazing dynamic between Steen and his subject, allowing him to capture figures in their most diverse and natural forms. Accompanied by personal anecdotes and summarised biographies, and including a foreword by Sir Roger Moore, this book provides a fascinating overview of some of the most influential personalities of the last century. Only 1,250 copies are being published, each hand bound to the highest quality in Italian silver paper.
Why the title? "The hero is the man admired for outstanding achievements," says Steen. "The villain is the one capable of great wickedness, but there again he could be just a loveable rogue... and I love the rogues..."
Jerry Lewis. Jerry Lewis, director, was a different person to Jerry Lewis, stooge to Dean Martin. On set he took filming Hardly Working very seriously except for the occasional - and disconcerting - burst of laughter. In this particular shot he unexpectedly turned around and poked his tongue at me.
Truman Capote. I hate photographing people in hotels; it's so impersonal. Furniture that isn't theirs, someone else's paintings on the walls, you can't make it look like home. Invariably I tried to come up with an interesting close-up. I asked, 'Can you pull a face or do something?' This is what the charmingly camp Capote did.
Orson Welles. He made Citizen Kane in 1942 when he was 25 years old. Thirty years later, when this photograph was taken, he was often derided ('America's youngest living has-been' was coined while he was still in his twenties) and he himself admitted that he began at the top and 'had been working my way down ever since.'
Ian Fleming. This shot was taken at Fleming's office in Mitre Court, just off Fleet Street. The magnifying glass, an irresistible prop for a spy-writer, was there on his desk. As for the cigarette holder, in those days everyone smoked and the day had yet to arrive when smoking became politically incorrect and editors decreed no shots of smokers.
Terence Stamp. With Terence it was always about perfection. I had previously photographed him when he appeared with Julie Christie in Far from the Madding Crowd. From the brogues to the handkerchief, the posture, the way in which he had to stand forward at an angle, look in the camera and feel good: everything had to be right.
Tony Benn. Strung between the walls of his large basement office were a series of washing lines. Hung on the lines with clothes pegs, for immediate reference, were sheets or scraps of paper reminding Tony of ideas. What caught my eye were his braces with the House of Commons logo. You couldn't photograph Tony Benn without a pipe in his mouth because apparently he never took it out.
Peter Sellers. When I got to Peter Sellers' house I couldn't believe my eyes at the sight of a ukulele propped up on a chair. I play the ukulele myself (well, I like to think I do) and keep it in the boot of my car at all times on the off chance of being asked for an impromptu performance. The opportunity was too good to pass up and we whiled away the time in duet, playing and singing and crying with laughter.
Eric Clapton. I never went to concerts as a fan, I was there as an observer, albeit an observer in a privileged position, being close. As a fan I would have been frustrated to be sitting several rows away, and that would apply to whoever was appearing on stage. To photograph Clapton I was no more than five yards away, close enough to watch the perspiration running down his face.
Oliver Reed. The room in this picture, in Ollie's house Broome Hall, was massive with four pairs of French windows on to the gardens. The military accessories were important to Ollie. After doing the picture we had a drink, and when he asked if you wanted a drink he wouldn't offer a glass or even open a bottle, he'd bring out a case.
Michael Caine. I went to his house in Windsor and as I motored up the long driveway. I saw the gardener standing there with a wheelbarrow, a fork on his shoulder. He turned and it was Michael. 'Stay as you are,' I said.
Ronnie Wood. Both musician and artist, he had been painting and drawing from the age of 12, some time before he took up the guitar, and examples of his work scattered about the house were seriously accomplished. He went on to mount prestigious exhibitions.
Mark McCormack. I was commissioned to photograph a typical working day in the life of Mark McCormack. He flew in from the US. He came straight from Heathrow Airport to a 7.30am business breakfast at Claridge's, followed by another meeeting at 9am, at 10am, at 11am, at midday and so on until the evening. His philosophy was simply: 'Be the best. Learn the business and expand by applying what you already know.'
John Hurt. I went to John's home to photograph him, he was living alone at the time, his marriage over. I feel that windows are emotive - peering through them, looking for something, waiting for someone. John, standing by that window gave the feeling he was either looking into the future, or looking back on past problems. I took the photograph and expected him to walk away, but he just stood there, frozen in thought.
Bill Wyman. At his home in Cheyne Walk. Bass-player with the Stones for over 30 years, Wyman was always the quiet one. 'You sometimes read about us and I am not even mentioned,' he said. 'I'm just a guy at the back of the band. I'd like a bit of the limelight too.'
