A life of
EXPLORATION
Anthony Osmond-Evans (Sc 56-61) Above: Portrait of Anthony Osmond-Evans, by Peter Draper Jnr.
A
t school I was a keen sportsman, and this continued with Real Tennis, which I later learnt at Petworth. I was most fortunate to have a brilliant partner, John Ward, and we won the 1976 Manchester Invitation World Doubles. In the 1980s, I had travelled round China, a country with which I had fallen in love whilst working for Johnnie Walker Whisky in Hong Kong in the 60s, when Sir David Trench (SH 29-33) was Governor. I greatly admired the artistic skills of the Chinese artisans in fine porcelain and woodcraft - steeped in Confucian culture. Behind every successful person there is always that element of luck. In the summer of 1983, I rose early and looked out of my bedroom window in Guilin, Southern China. Soldiers were arriving at a stadium in a small football ground behind the hotel. A sombre tone and martial music prevailed. I knew something serious was happening. Villagers were herded in, clearly traumatised. Twelve prisoners - placards hanging from their necks, were paraded in front of soldiers and officials. Later, I discovered the prisoners had been accused of serious crimes - from GBH to murder. Justice was dealt with summarily and swiftly. Heads bowed, the guilty were marched away and shot. The cost of the bullet - $1 - was then charged to each family. Macabre! By good fortune and well-hidden, I took some great
photographs with a telephoto lens. You create your own luck. Gary Player famously said: “It’s funny, the more I practise the luckier I become.” Ten thousand people were similarly executed in 1983 throughout China (0.1% of the nation). Clearly, the Politburo brooked no opposition and the peasants were kept in line. (China had annexed Tibet, with its gentle Buddhist Religion. In the Northwest region, 1 million of the Uighurs (Muslim) are today in camps for 'correctional training'. In 2032, Hong Kong - with its British law and financial centre - will be fully integrated into China). When I returned to London - desperately guarding my precious films through customs - I prayed the X-ray machines had not damaged them. I rang my good friend Brian Nicholson, managing director of the Observer to tell him I had photographs of these executions. He said: “F***ing Osmond-Evans. Trust you to capture these, when we are desperate for photos for a feature (Sir) Donald Trelford is running in next month's supplement! Will you accept £5,000 for the world rights?” My photo did come out all over the world Mort du Matin in Paris Match for instance. With all that money, I went straight off to buy the latest Nikon equipment. My life as a photographer had really started in earnest. During the 80s, I successfully founded Good Connections, which introduced Heads of Industry to ➻
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