During the summer of 2019, while we were going through stereo cards and photographs at Bruno Tartarin’s professional premises, my assistant Rebecca drew my attention to a photo album she had just leafed through and which had awakened her interest.

Since my teenage years, I have always been fascinated to seek out the earliest photographs of the cities I visited to understand what the cities used to look like and how they developed into what they are today. This was normally achieved through books. Naturally when I arrived in Jakarta in late 1989, I sought out books containing early photographs of the city.

We travelled slowly down the narrow coastline from Hanoi in the north, to Saigon in the south. On the walls of a number of coffee shops and restaurants, along the way, enlarged coloured French postcards of early-1900s local scenes and portraits were often displayed - suggestive of Vietnamese people’s latent interest in the visual history of their country.

My father, Erwin, came to New York in July 1939 to advance his photographic career. He had just finished a one-year contract with Vogue (Paris) where he had produced that most memorable image of Lisa Fonssagrives floating in her dress on the Eiffel Tower.  Erwin was then hoping to arrange a better contract from Harper’s Bazaar and other magazines.

In the late 1960s I was a student at university. I had no money and struggled to afford the two shillings and sixpence each month to buy Creative Camera Owner magazine. But I knew I had to have it.

The women in the photos are collaborators – conspirators – sharing with the photographer intimate moments that will be preserved in gelatin silver. Saul and his subjects are playing, romping, having a good time together. As each woman lets her guard down, revealing her true self, she reflects the trust she has in Saul.

Ladakh, is a remote province of the North-Western Indian Himalaya, situated, to the north of Kashmir, and on the borders of Pakistan and Tibet. Although nowadays politically a part of India, it is largely culturally Buddhist and ethnically Tibetan.

These weren't run-of-the-mill holiday pictures. Agha had them printed on 11 x 14 inch paper, an unusually large size for holiday snaps. Some of the images reminded me of the Tintin books I used to read as a child.

He was an entrepreneur, a scholar, a showman, but most importantly, a husband and a dad. Every time I heard Dennis end a phone call to his wife or children, he ended it with, “Love Ya".