Just as moths are drawn to a light, those without celestial pretensions are drawn to the No Name Saloon in Park City, Utah. It is as good a saloon as there is in the West and it is good because the patrons are not virtuous. This is a place where those without a moral compass are accorded a front seat, a free shot and a hall pass.

When Mark Twain confessed, “I don't want to go to heaven. None of my friends are there.” He spoke to the patrons of this joint. There is no code of conduct at the “No Name” other than to enjoy life.

The slight irony is that in Utah, state laws on drinking are increasingly conservative and entry to the No Name is only secured after the most fastidious of door policies. A foreigner in the autumn of their life, who can secure free bus travel back home, must bring their passport to gain entry.

These tableaux photographs are not easy to get right as I want to evoke an intense sense of place regarding the interiors while also highlighting the human archetypes that make the place unique. The two are codependent: there is no fabled saloon without a good clientele and there can be no strong patronage unless the destination has a unique vibe. Once this circularity is fixed, there is every chance an iconic venue can evolve and that is exactly what has happened at this saloon in Park City.

We would like to thank the owners and management of the No Name Saloon and indeed the locals of Park City for their help with this project. We promised to beat the record for a bar bill by midday on a Tuesday morning and I think we comfortably achieved that.