No matter how categorical this sententia may sound today, it couldn't be more true of the work of photographer Ethan Russell, whose images over decades have helped shape rock music's visual aesthetics, its myths, its norms, and its affectations--probably more so than work of any other music photographer of his generation.

Having worked with The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who, and a plethora of other legendary rock heroes during the key stages of their careers, Russell became well-known for taking part in creating what is now universally accepted as the first postulates of rock's visual symbolism. His natural ability to see the timeless, the iconic, and the archetypal in his subjects helped him artfully select privileged aspects of reality to produce powerful images that sometimes subtly, sometimes directly, but always eloquently spoke to millions of people of the glamour, the grandeur and the romantic appeal of rock. Given his indisputably demiurgic, reality-shaping, pathos-tingled creative approach, the opening of Russell's exhibition at Proud Gallery in South-West London on May 22 came in as somewhat a surprise, suddenly revealing a lesser known, more subdued side to his early work.

While the book's large format, (15 x 12 inches), allows each image to stand out, seeing the most striking of them on the walls of the gallery, sometimes blown-up into huge prints, framed, each in isolation from another, makes them speak to the viewer in a completely different way. While the book has a feel of a chronicle, the images on the walls convey the urgency and the candour that resonate perfectly with the now. Some of them look completely modern and in the moment, like brilliant colour shots of Brian Jones taken at Cotchford Farm shortly before his death on July 3, 1969. Nothing gives away the tragedy that would unfold at this location just a few days later, and Brian looks vibrantly energetic and full of life.

Other shots, like a black-and-white close-up of Keith Richards's face seen through a haze of cigarette smoke, with his faraway gaze giving off that distinct vibe of the late ‘60s photographic portraiture, have the transcendent quality possessed by all iconic images, not too remote from those of Che or Marilyn. Russell's work, however, is subtler. The execution method could be simple—a head shot in a close-up—but the inner essence of his subject is far from one-dimensional. What you see is a late ‘60s romantic vagabond staring into the unknown with a kind of expression no one these days dares or knows how to imitate—rock star or not—so full it is of nonchalant confidence and delicate poise, as well as mystifying vulnerability. And, if this image does inadvertently sell you an idea or a lifestyle, the only thing it promises to the viewer is complete uncertainty awaiting anyone drawn into explorations of the dark side of creativity. It seduces you just as powerfully as it did all those 40 years ago. Its main difference from the ideologised images of political leaders or commercialised portraits of movie stars is that the identity of the person photographed suddenly ceases to matter here. What becomes important are subtle gradations of mood, tone, and temper of the image. Here Russell could have photographed a nobody and the image would have remained just as compelling.

A good indicator of a genial relationship between Russell and the band was the presence of the Stones' ex-bassist Bill Wyman at the show, who after being asked to be photographed, jokingly told me that it must feel odd to be on an assignment to photograph a photography exhibition. It didn't feel that odd to me though, considering that the entire genre of photography is about engaging in reproduction of reality, even when at times we end up reproducing a reproduction, which all art forms seem to engage in these days. The ‘60s, however, was a different era, and this is what this show demonstrated better than anything else. What it conveyed was that even when we are not consciously aware of it, that extraordinary decade continues to provide us with the fundamental ideas, initial prototypes, and primary examples for everything that now exists in the popular culture, having all those years ago inspired people to play the first note, utter the first word, and produce the first image.