Celtic & Scottish Studies

Ian MacKenzie: An Appreciation

Ian MacKenzie 1958-2009, An Appreciation

Ian MacKenzie

Ian Frederick MacKenzie, photographer at the School of Scottish Studies and (later) the Department of Celtic and Scottish Studies, University of Edinburgh, passed away on 20 December 2009, leaving his family, colleagues and wide circle of friends with an immense sense of loss. From first to last, Ian was a quietly efficient, thoroughly punctilious, soft-spoken Highlander, whose calm, gracious, helpful spirit was as evident during his final illness as it was throughout his career.

Ian was born in Inverness on 6 July, 1958. When Ian was two, his father, Jock (John Duncan, or 'JD', as he was better known), a Sawmiller, moved the family to Tomatin after obtaining a job at the distilleries there. As a result, he grew up in one of the distillery cottages, with the Findhorn running parallel to the road outside his front gate. It was a source of inspiration to him, both in his writing and his photography. In his first school, Raig Beag (or ‘Rag Bag’, as it was popularly called), a teacher nurtured his creative writing and encouraged him to develop his creative talents in general. Sometime in his youth, his father gave him a Brownie camera, which opened up a whole new world to him.

Tomatin was a close-knit community, in which Ian felt comfortable and confident. Frequent visits to grandparents on the West Coast kept the connection with his parents' homes, his father hailing from Lochbroom and his mother from Glenshiel. As one grandparent on either side was a Gaelic speaker, Ian heard Gaelic only at family gatherings; he cherished those occasions, and was drawn to the sound of the language, often feeling that it was unfair that it had not been transmitted to him.

Following his secondary education at Inverness High School, Ian chose to pursue a diploma in photography at Napier College, Edinburgh. He often described his first evening meal at the B&B: sitting alone, eating sandwiches that his mother had given him for the journey, and crying his eyes out. Thereafter he spent some time in the Borders, near Galashiels, before gaining a place at the Royal College of Art in London. It was then that his Highland identity became solidified. A combination of homesickness and the opportunity to see his home village after prolonged absence led him to appreciate everyday things afresh. Almost to the point of giving up his course, he gained permission to commute between London and Tomatin in order to conduct a photography project there - his first experience in ethnological documentation. An exhibition of his work from this period was mounted at the Inverness Museum.

After obtaining his Master’s degree, Ian returned to Edinburgh to look for work. Spending some time freelancing and taking odd jobs, he gained the position at the School of Scottish Studies in 1985, where he remained happily and productively until his untimely death. His duties included curating the photographic archive of the School of Scottish Studies, photographing and recording performers, conferences and events, and mounting exhibitions based on the rich treasure-store in his care. In all, he arranged almost a score of exhibitions, including solo productions, in venues as far apart as Eden Court Theatre Gallery, Inverness, and the United States.

Colleagues and students at Edinburgh University, however, will remember Ian MacKenzie as a self-effacing, professionally unobtrusive recorder and facilitator of their work. The art of facilitation never had a better practitioner. Operating quietly in the background or in his peaceful dark-room and meticulously-kept office, and emerging as required, he would produce excellent photographs or film. A creator of purposeful websites, he moved easily between different media, always striving to master the latest technique ‘properly’, and unwilling to pretend that he knew more than he did. Panic and disorder were alien to his nature. Colleagues who felt the need for ‘de-stressing’ often found his gentle voice, unhurried pace, and fine photographs a deeply refreshing source of solace and consolation. He was an ideal teacher of photography to those who shared his interest, commenting without any sense of superiority on the composition, light, and ethnological significance of his own work and that of others. It was a skill that he retained even as his final illness took its toll.

Ian’s quiet sense of humour and a tactful manner eased the tricky task of photographing colleagues. He would normally take a set of photographs, and then choose the ‘best’ with the input of the subject. Occasionally, when he and the subject might differ as to the ‘best’ photograph, he would ‘nudge’ gently to achieve the most appropriate result, or even suggest to another colleague that an unobtrusive hint in the right direction could change a perspective or even a photograph. Beyond portraiture, Ian had an uncanny knack of finding just the right image for the occasion. A colleague with a maritime bent received a beautiful ‘Get Well’ card in which a fishing-boat, the Happy Return, in the foreground sounded the perfect note for a speedy recovery.

There were many creative angles to Ian MacKenzie. Few would have thought of him as a writer, but he wrote two unpublished novels (Water Music, Angels’ Share), and left another unfinished (The Holy Well). He was also a writer of short stories, one of which (The Gift) was published in the Literary Magazine Deliberately Thirsty. Creativity was an all-round experience for him. Inspiration came most frequently from the ‘ordinary’ things of life, including the roads of the West Highlands, which furnished a film-script, Single-track Road (short-listed by Tartan Shorts), as well as the subject of his final project, Zen Bends.

Ian MacKenzie took others with him along his own life-track, offering his insightful observations generously, and valuing their input. It was an enriching, unforgettable experience for those privileged to share it. He and his talented wife, Talitha, a well-known recording artist, were a perfect match, Talitha’s strong support ensuring Ian’s vitality until the very end. To Talitha, Ross and Owen, and to the wider MacKenzie family, we extend our deepest sympathy, as we mourn the passing of a genial colleague whose personal tracks were ‘ways of gentleness, and all his paths peace’.

Donald E. Meek, January 2010