About a year ago, I was emailed an image of a beached whale and a dead raccoon in a bag. No text, no link—just two jpgs. Feeling like I had just received a digital kiss of death, I instantly Googled the offender’s email address. Turns out Clark Allen (aka Sink Stuart) isn’t a darkweb killer for hire, but just a man who winds up in some strange situations. If you get past his post-Geocities portfolio, his website is a haven of perfect timing: cheerleaders, crying kids, and sex shops are treated with that oft-discussed “democracy” so cherished in contemporary photography. I always admire the sincerity in which street photographers approach voyeurism and everyday theatrics—when it works. Lucky for us, it seems as though Clark Allen has a life worth living.
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
Clark Allen
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