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The Colours of Southern India
Far away from the Taj Mahal, the Red Fort and other tourist destinations of the north of India lies another India: the lush and beautiful Southern States. In Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Karnataka, Andhra Pradesh and Goa, brilliantly coloured hues are a natural result of a hot climate and fertile landscape, but they are also symbolic of what is one of the world's most spiritual countries. In these pages, blue is for both Vishnu and brilliantly coloured saris, red is for Lakshmi and blazing hot chillies, yellow is for good luck and golden tumeric, and green is for Hanuman and vibrant rice fields. Swaying palms and garlands of flowers, painted bullock carts and caparisoned elephants - these are but a few examples of Barbara Lloyd's photographs.
- GenresTravel
160 pages, Paperback
First published September 1, 1999
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June 12, 2026
This book was published by Thames & Hudson in 1999 as a follow-up to the author's earlier volume, "The Colours of India" (1988). I am reviewing it nearly three decades later, in 2026.
The book belongs to the final years of the pre-digital photography era, and it is immediately apparent that the photographer's technique had developed since the first volume. There is greater use of flash photography (evident in the catchlights in subjects' eyes and the specular highlights on skin) and the images generally display richer, deeper colours. Anyone who lived in or travelled through India during this period will recognise much of the atmosphere captured here.
Like its predecessor, the book runs to 160 pages and consists almost entirely of photographs, with very little accompanying text. The images are arranged by colour; white, blue, red, yellow, green, and so on, culminating in a final section titled "Multicolour".
Taken individually, relatively few of the photographs stand out as exceptional compositions. Many have the feel of snapshots rather than carefully constructed images. In some cases, waiting for more favourable light would have improved both detail and colour. In others, more sophisticated flash techniques and better balancing of subject and background exposure might have produced stronger results. These are considerations that modern photographers often take for granted in an age of digital cameras, instant review, advanced editing software, and highly refined printing technologies.
I suspect that almost all of these images would not have survived the editor's cut for a 1990s "National Geographic" feature. Yet, as with the earlier book, the colour-based structure gives the collection a coherence and charm that transcend the limitations of many individual photographs. The whole remains stronger than the sum of its parts.
Interestingly, while this volume contains some technically stronger images than "The Colours of India", I found the earlier book more appealing overall. Its imperfections now contribute to its historical value, giving it a stronger sense of time and place. This later work is more "vibrant" yet often unbalanced in colour or contrast or visual weight,and perhaps loses a little of the instinctive authenticity and period atmosphere that made the first volume distinctive.
Even so, it remains some distance from the standards set by photographers such as Steve McCurry, whose work in India has become a benchmark for contemporary travel and documentary photography.
Readers seeking a photo book that reflects the vibrant, saturated visual style often associated with modern portrayals of India may find this volume somewhat disappointing. It belongs to a transitional era, situated between the black-and-white "art photography" books of previous decades and the technically sophisticated travel photography that emerged in the digital age. Nevertheless, as both a historical record of India and a document of photographic practice in the late 1990s, it retains considerable interest.
Today, I could only find second-hand paperback copies. Despite Thames & Hudson's generally high production standards, many surviving examples appear to suffer from delaminating covers and ageing bindings that creak when opened. Prospective buyers would be wise to shop carefully for a well-preserved copy. The glossy paper stock reproduces the photographs attractively, but damp-damaged copies often develop wrinkled pages and reflective distortions that significantly detract from the viewing experience.
I originally bought this book because of my interest in photography in India. There were no copies available in my local libraries, nor was it available to browse through the Internet Archive, but I found an inexpensive copy through an online second-hand bookseller.
Having now read it, I probably would not buy it again. However, for little more than the price of a café latte, it provided a pleasant half-hour of browsing and reflection on both travel and photographic techniques from the era in which it was produced.
Personally, I find photo books from both before and after this transitional period more rewarding. Many books produced between the 1970s and early 2000s occupy an awkward middle ground between classic black-and-white art photography and modern digital imaging. Earlier photographers often relied on composition, timing, tonal range, and the graphic qualities of black-and-white film to engage the viewer. Contemporary photographers, meanwhile, benefit from extraordinarily capable digital cameras, high-ISO sensors, sophisticated editing tools, and printing technologies that were unimaginable when this book was produced.
Of course, there were many outstanding photographers working during this transitional period. Publications such as *National Geographic* consistently showcased exceptional work, and photographers like Steve McCurry demonstrated what was possible when strong visual storytelling was combined with technical mastery. Yet many lesser-known photo books from this era now feel somewhat crude or unfinished when viewed through modern eyes. Expectations have changed, and contemporary readers often demand a level of technical polish that was far more difficult to achieve at the time.
Best wishes to you all - Paul C, 2026
The book belongs to the final years of the pre-digital photography era, and it is immediately apparent that the photographer's technique had developed since the first volume. There is greater use of flash photography (evident in the catchlights in subjects' eyes and the specular highlights on skin) and the images generally display richer, deeper colours. Anyone who lived in or travelled through India during this period will recognise much of the atmosphere captured here.
Like its predecessor, the book runs to 160 pages and consists almost entirely of photographs, with very little accompanying text. The images are arranged by colour; white, blue, red, yellow, green, and so on, culminating in a final section titled "Multicolour".
Taken individually, relatively few of the photographs stand out as exceptional compositions. Many have the feel of snapshots rather than carefully constructed images. In some cases, waiting for more favourable light would have improved both detail and colour. In others, more sophisticated flash techniques and better balancing of subject and background exposure might have produced stronger results. These are considerations that modern photographers often take for granted in an age of digital cameras, instant review, advanced editing software, and highly refined printing technologies.
I suspect that almost all of these images would not have survived the editor's cut for a 1990s "National Geographic" feature. Yet, as with the earlier book, the colour-based structure gives the collection a coherence and charm that transcend the limitations of many individual photographs. The whole remains stronger than the sum of its parts.
Interestingly, while this volume contains some technically stronger images than "The Colours of India", I found the earlier book more appealing overall. Its imperfections now contribute to its historical value, giving it a stronger sense of time and place. This later work is more "vibrant" yet often unbalanced in colour or contrast or visual weight,and perhaps loses a little of the instinctive authenticity and period atmosphere that made the first volume distinctive.
Even so, it remains some distance from the standards set by photographers such as Steve McCurry, whose work in India has become a benchmark for contemporary travel and documentary photography.
Readers seeking a photo book that reflects the vibrant, saturated visual style often associated with modern portrayals of India may find this volume somewhat disappointing. It belongs to a transitional era, situated between the black-and-white "art photography" books of previous decades and the technically sophisticated travel photography that emerged in the digital age. Nevertheless, as both a historical record of India and a document of photographic practice in the late 1990s, it retains considerable interest.
Today, I could only find second-hand paperback copies. Despite Thames & Hudson's generally high production standards, many surviving examples appear to suffer from delaminating covers and ageing bindings that creak when opened. Prospective buyers would be wise to shop carefully for a well-preserved copy. The glossy paper stock reproduces the photographs attractively, but damp-damaged copies often develop wrinkled pages and reflective distortions that significantly detract from the viewing experience.
I originally bought this book because of my interest in photography in India. There were no copies available in my local libraries, nor was it available to browse through the Internet Archive, but I found an inexpensive copy through an online second-hand bookseller.
Having now read it, I probably would not buy it again. However, for little more than the price of a café latte, it provided a pleasant half-hour of browsing and reflection on both travel and photographic techniques from the era in which it was produced.
Personally, I find photo books from both before and after this transitional period more rewarding. Many books produced between the 1970s and early 2000s occupy an awkward middle ground between classic black-and-white art photography and modern digital imaging. Earlier photographers often relied on composition, timing, tonal range, and the graphic qualities of black-and-white film to engage the viewer. Contemporary photographers, meanwhile, benefit from extraordinarily capable digital cameras, high-ISO sensors, sophisticated editing tools, and printing technologies that were unimaginable when this book was produced.
Of course, there were many outstanding photographers working during this transitional period. Publications such as *National Geographic* consistently showcased exceptional work, and photographers like Steve McCurry demonstrated what was possible when strong visual storytelling was combined with technical mastery. Yet many lesser-known photo books from this era now feel somewhat crude or unfinished when viewed through modern eyes. Expectations have changed, and contemporary readers often demand a level of technical polish that was far more difficult to achieve at the time.
Best wishes to you all - Paul C, 2026
Displaying 1 of 1 review