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If Steve Pyke's portraits of cyber-punks project childlike innocence, and his portraits of film-directors confident mastery, what are we to say of his portraits of philosophers? These photos naturally lead one to try to match the philosophy with the image. In certain cases, the problem is not hard; Baudrillard and Derrida appear the French intellectuals they are, Parfit's magisterial hair has long been thought difficult to separate from his views of personal identity, and Michael Dummett's reproving gaze is surely due to our failure to grasp the structure of the anti-realist argument in the background of his dense tomes. But is the impish twinkle in David Lewis's eyes some subtle clue about his attitude towards the metaphysical system he has bequeathed to history? How does the complexity of Anscombe's thought relate to the austerity of her dress? In the end, Pyke's famous photos raise more questions than they resolve.
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