Brian & Barbara Robb
Edwin and Olive, Olive and Edwin: how can one think of one without the other? Almost the only time we ever saw Edwin separately was when he joined us in Venice to take photographs for a book, and gave us a chance of witnessing his extraordinary professionalism. He arrived with two small cameras and a huge list of subjects - some we thought very hard of access. But when he left a few days later he had somehow insinuated himself through every barrier and finished his task with brilliance.
He was always a delightful participant in innocent, frivolous conspiracies. As when, finding that attendance at a Teatro Fenice first night required evening dress, he relished the triumph of walking past the doorman in an outfit somewhat resembling Mr. Salteena's.
There was never any fuss. He seemed, and indeed was, gentle, but there was a steely purpose under the silk. Anything he decided to do got done, and done in his own particular way, whether work, play or an act of kindness.
His way was that of an artist of great wit, resource and distinction. The impact of his personality remains so strong that we still constantly find ourselves forgetting that he is dead.
From the catalogue produced
to accompany the exhibition
'Aspects of the Art of Edwin Smith' at The
Minories,
Colchester in 1974.
