In 1991, Krass Clement travelled to Ireland at the invitation of the Tyrone Guthrie Centre. The journey led to his best-known publication, Drum. Made in one evening with only three and a half rolls of film, it exemplifies his approach: moving quickly through spaces as visitor and observer, as unobtrusively as possible.
 
Clement spent several weeks in Ireland, applying this philosophy wherever he went, notably Dublin, two hours south of Drum village, whose photographs RRB Photobooks published in 2017, and Belfast, two hours north, presented here for the first time.
 
In Belfast he followed the same process, photographing faces and landscapes: children going to school, shopfronts, domestic windows and open spaces between buildings. Yet the mood differs, not through intention or a change of approach, but through the subject itself. By 1991, Belfast had endured decades of conflict; the 1994 ceasefire was still years away. Alongside shipbuilding's decline and late-twentieth-century economic policies, this had left large areas urgently needing regeneration. British soldiers wait in front gardens; children play on dilapidated streets. Clement moves through them without judgement, neither a journalist seeking an angle nor a conflict photographer exposing conditions on the ground.
 
Revisiting work made over thirty years ago, he brings together 114 previously unpublished images in a carefully considered sequence without captions or commentary. The photographs invite viewers to take his place, notice a lone figure moving through a scene and find room for their own reading.