From 9/11 to family album

Not many family photo albums open with images of the twin towers on fire. But for photographer Nick Haymes, it made perfect sense. “When 9/11 happened,” he told The Guardian, “I realised life was very short.” At the time, he was living in New York, trying to forge a career, while his friend, colleague, and future wife Lina was dealing with the fallout of her previous marriage. As Haymes explained, the event shaped his family: “It made us realise we should probably get together and have a family. It was this huge historical event, but on a very micro level, it also shaped my relationship with my wife and children.”

That realization became the foundation for Chronograph, a photography book that runs from the 2001 terrorist attacks to the present day. The book traces the journey of Haymes’s two sons, Philipp and Lawrence, as they grow from drooling babies into young men.

A ringside seat to everyday life

Haymes’s camera captures both the monumental and the mundane. Readers get a ringside seat as arms are broken, beloved pets die, and hairs start sprouting from armpits. The everyday details—verrucas, messy kitchens, Lina cleaning out an ear with a cotton bud—are given the same attention as birthday parties and rites of passage.

Living in a tiny 800 sq ft apartment in Manhattan meant there was no escaping the family’s ups and downs. “Because we lived in this tiny, 800 sq ft apartment in Manhattan, you don’t miss a thing, all the ups and downs, all the mood swings,” Haymes said. “There was no door slamming, because there was nowhere to go!”

The camera was always present, even in moments of distress. Haymes recounted a running joke with his son Lawrence: “You’re the only parent that would photograph me when I’m crying rather than deal with the issue straight away.” Haymes admitted, “but I like to think I was attentive. It was a funny balance because the camera was always around, but it seemed to work.”

The book includes multiple shots of the boys naked—not just as young children running around, but as they transition into adulthood. Haymes insists the boys had no issue with this. “They don’t have an issue,” he said. As teenagers, they found their own method of rebellion: smiling and giving thumbs up, knowing Haymes didn’t want posed portraits.

A life behind the lens

Haymes’s path to this project began long before 9/11. Born in Stratford-upon-Avon, he dropped out of art school and, in his 20s, took too many drugs and had a breakdown. He later assisted photographer Jürgen Teller before moving to New York in 1999.

Lina, who would become his wife, was a Jewish refugee from Ukraine who moved to the US with her parents as a teenager. She gave Haymes a commission that allowed him to get a visa. His previous projects include Between Dog and Wolf, Gabe TM, and Dancing on the Fault Line; he stayed in touch with many of his subjects, including Gabe in Oregon and the skaters with children.

Haymes compiled Chronograph during Covid, wanting to be impartial in his portrayal. He shot on film and felt unemployable in the age of digital photography, so he turned his lens on family life.

The book also documents the later years of Lina’s parents, Nadia and Mikhail. Mikhail was a “loving person” but “a bit of a rogue,” and Haymes’s mother-in-law may have had undiagnosed bipolar disorder. Images include Mikhail with wrapping paper on his head, scars on his stomach, and the pet hamster in a coffin.

The closing passages show Nadia and Mikhail in hospital, deteriorating. Haymes brought two people to dialysis every day for two gruelling years and converted the home art gallery into a hospice. Nadia and Mikhail died a year apart; though divorced, they were buried together in Los Angeles. The book starts and ends with death, a reminder of the fragility that prompted its creation.

At the funeral, Philipp and Lawrence spoke and stood by the graveside with the urn. Today, Haymes says, the boys are still on his Uber account.