With a career spanning four decades, Jon Nicholson’s journey began by combining his two interests in life at the time: photography and windsurfing. The fascination of these two hobbies instigated both a lifelong profession and obsession with capturing intriguing imagery and their hidden narratives. After 10 years covering a wide variety of sports and events for ALLSPORT Photo Agency, as well several news outlets that included The Sunday Times, The Observer, The Guardian, Paris Match, and The LA Times, Jon entered the world of Grand Prix racing in 1993. It’s fair to say his life would never be the same again.
Documenting the life both on and off the track for influential motorsport figures, as well as the rolling circus of the F1 teams and marketing that migrated through iconic circuits each month, Jon captured pivotal moments during the sport’s brightest, and darkest days. From shooting Damon Hill to the late great Eddie Jordan, Jackie and Paul Stewart to Michael Schumacher, Jon captured imagery for Williams-Renault, Jordan, Stewart, Ferrari and McLaren.
Aside from those greats, however, there has been one image that has haunted Jon ever since he pressed the shutter back in the spring of 1994. Like almost every weekend during his role as a Formula 1 photographer, he found himself shooting moments between team and drivers as well as the cars themselves as they hurtled down Imola’s back straight. Unlike any other weekend, though, this would remain embedded in the heads and hearts of millions around the world, following the tragic deaths of both Roland Ratzenberger and Ayrton Senna. Jon captured a tender moment just before that fateful race, which would become one of the photographer’s greatest stills. Looking up at one of the video monitors hanging from the ceiling, Ayrton watched on as Ruben Barrichello, travelling at around 140mph, clipped the kerb at the San Marino circuit and was launched directly into a tyre barrier with an impact that measured 95g. That makes this specific photograph so poignant, so powerful and so important in the context of the mental wellbeing of Senna during a weekend that would change Formula 1 forever.
Here's what Jon had to say about the image, taken on Friday 29th April 1994. At the time, it was just another picture of Ayrton Senna, but following his death two days later, the image remained hidden for 25 years, “When I first saw this image again after 24 years of it being in a drawer, I thought that he had already left this world. To me, he looks like an angel—so calm, so at peace. I’ve decided that this will be the last time the image is available for purchase. Now is the time to let the photograph rest.”
Recently exhibited at Connolly's London gallery, these signed works on premium paper represent four decades of once-in-a-lifetime access to motorsport's private moments. From Monaco's gilded streets to the muddy grassroots circuits of Britain, Nicholson quickly learned it made no difference whether you were minted or barely getting by, motorsport was deep-rooted in so many veins.
Now, these limited-edition signed prints are available for collectors to acquire through the CD Shop – a rare chance to own a tangible piece of motorsport's visual poetry, captured by one of its most intuitive chroniclers.
