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I caught up with Josh Humble to talk about life on both sides of the camera.

What led you to start exploring the world of modelling?

I started modelling a little before I began shooting, but I didn’t do lifestyle or clothed modelling for agencies until my thirties. I’d always done nude modelling here and there for photographers, for friends. Art nude has always been just beautiful to me.

Did your passion for photography develop at the same time, or is that something that came later?

Even though my art modelling has gotten busy the past couple years, I’ve always been a photographer first, and it’s how I make my living. I picked up a camera in high school, and been obsessed with light, composition, shape and form ever since.

Would you describe your work as erotica?

I think there’s a little erotica to all of it. Just like art nude, erotica is beautiful as well — and, if portrayed as art, can be very separate from what’s considered porn.

Who are some of your photography heroes or inspirations?

I like the standard set by Ansel Adams for landscapes and the deep tonality he used. Robert Mapplethorpe’s daring style was so great — I like to be daring but tasteful in what I present.

What are some of the challenges in photographing the naked male physique?

A lot of guys refuse to bare all, and that’s understandable. It’s a risky, scary world, and life can really change for anyone who takes it all off.

What do you hope that people feel when they look at your photos?

I hope that they see art and the male form in a way they hadn’t previously. The male nude has a much harder time with the public that the female nude, and with that, there’s also so much poor photography and posing of men which turns people off. I think a lot of people just want to get naked — never mind the art.

My rule is to only work with photographers who can make beautiful results. The best model in the world can be portrayed poorly if the photographer can’t light them well. Naked is great, if it’s artfully done and used sparingly.

What are some of your goals and ambitions for the remainder of 2018?

To expand and travel — I want to work with a variety of photographers and see where this goes. I’m so grateful and flattered to have the support I’ve had from people so far.

Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Jay Alan Rickard (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Tom Nakielski (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Tom Nakielski (image supplied)
Josh Humble. Photo: Ernest Collins (image supplied)

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Arts & Culture

Hoxton Street

London. Life.

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“Why are you limping?” asked Hamish, as he met Charlie for drink after work. They met in Howl At The Moon – it was busy with the after-work crowd.

“It’s a bit embarrassing…” mumbled Charlie, taking the pint of Guinness that Hamish had bought for him.

“A fisting accident?” asked Hamish.

“Nothing like that…” dismissed Charlie. “I’ve got a new job.”

“That’s great news!” said Hamish. “Why is that embarrassing? How is this related to you limping?”

“Um… well, I’ve taken a job with Sweatbox…” explained Charlie.

“Sweatbox?” repeated Hamish. “Sweatbox in Soho? Sweatbox the sauna?”

“Yes, exactly…” nodded Charlie. “They’re renovating at the moment. They called me in for what I thought was some training before they re-opened, but it turned out that the place is still a total building site so I spent the day lugging heavy boxes up and down stairs. Obviously, I’m not really used to manual labour, so now everything hurts. Everything.”

“Back it up…” said Hamish. “What do you mean you’ve taken a job with Sweatbox? What sort of job?”

“Um, just a general kind of team-member job…” shrugged Charlie.

“What the fuck?” laughed Hamish. “Why would you take a job like that? Are you that desperate for money?”

“Pretty much…” nodded Charlie, taking a long drink from his pint of Guinness. “It’s not just that – I thought it would be good for my writing and stuff, but mostly it’s for the money.”

“You are full of surprises…” grinned Hamish. “Wait, isn’t that going to be kind of awkward if I go to Sweatbox and I see you working there?”

“Why would that be awkward?” asked Charlie.

“Because I’m going to be in a towel, about to get my rocks off, and you’re going to be swishing around with a mop and bucket!” exclaimed Hamish. “It’s going to kind of kill the vibe a bit if I know that it’s you who’s going to have to wipe up my cum.”

“When you put it like that, it is a bit awkward…” agreed Charlie. “How often do you go to Sweatbox?”

“Not that often…” shrugged Hamish. “But probably more than you might expect. When do you start?”

“Not sure, to be honest…” replied Charlie. “I think they’re hoping to have it all open by the start of February. Anyway, how was your day?”

“Not bad…” said Hamish. “I spent most of my time working on Brexit-related stuff. Then, this afternoon, I had a meeting – I guess he’s technically my client, but he feels more like my boss. Without the money I get from him, I wouldn’t be able to pay my bills.”

“He’s definitely your boss…” decided Charlie. “How did the meeting go?”

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“I don’t know, it was weird…” shrugged Hamish. “He just kept saying how tired he was. How stressed he was. I’d gone in there thinking that I was pitching for more work and more money, but he just spent 30 minutes talking at me, telling me things that I already knew. After 30 minutes, he stopped, like he’d run out of things to say. So I said, is there anything else that you need from me today? And he said no. Total waste of time.”

“That’s probably how Theresa May feels…” said Charlie.

“Do not compare me to Theresa May!” declared Hamish, slapping the palm of his hand down onto the bar to emphasise the point. “Are you going to be able to get me a friends and family discount at Sweatbox?”

“I don’t know, to be honest…” shrugged Charlie. “I guess so. They give free entry if you’re under 25.”

“Are you suggesting that I could possibly pass for being younger than 25?” laughed Hamish. “You’re as delusional as Theresa May!”

This is the latest episode of the serial, Hoxton Street.

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