Just watched the BBC4 programme 'What do artists do during the day' which gave a fascinating insight into how Tom Brown works. He was not a photographer I knew much about and this may well be due to the fact that he has only recently been 'recognised' by the photographic world despite more than 30 years in the business. He himself seemed puzzled by the interest.
The programme followed him around and what we saw was a man almost totally obsessed by his activity. He would seem to spend virtually all of his time following his instincts - the instincts being based on many years experience and a deep knowledge, through familiarity, of what he shoots. There is an honesty about the presentation and there is a diffidence about his approach to those he is photographing that is both charming and at the same time revealing of an underlying uncertainty about his acceptability. The results were images that were powerful and yet of ordinary people (not celebrities) and daily life. He talks of capturing the 'spirit' of what he sees and in all that we see he is very successful in achieving his aims.
Although being described as landscape photographer he recognises in the programme that this may not be the case. Based on what we saw I would describe him as a 'street photographer' in the sense that he is out and about and shoots people and their surroundings. Many of his shown landscapes included people.
He talks of the struggle to survive as a photographer and it is here that we see the obsessive side of his nature. There is a commitment to his task that goes beyond reason for any ordinary man who tries to balance the demands of the various elements of his life. He talks of the financial problems he faced telling us that some years he made a loss. Clearly he is driven by his need to be a photographer. Although throughout the programme he was using digital cameras he talked of his days as a film photographer telling us that on a normal day he would shoot 3 or 4 rolls of film but on some days as many as 10 films. Film was expensive and there were also the development costs. It would appear that he did not develop or process his films.
A fascinating programme that gave us a glimpse into the live of a man for whom recognition has come late. One can only admire his tenacity and belief.
Thursday, 27 February 2014
Saturday, 15 February 2014
David Bailey's Stardust
Just watched the Sky Arts programme on Bailey's exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery. A disappointing programme with the presenter feeling the need to explain everything away even to the extent of interpreting some of the images to Bailey himself. In fact the programme was largely 'talking heads' rather than allowing Bailey's work to speak for itself. I finally decided that the best way to proceed was to mute the sound and use the fast forward controls to concentrate on the images.
I will plan an actual visit at some time in the near future so that I can see things for myself.
I will plan an actual visit at some time in the near future so that I can see things for myself.
Sunday, 9 February 2014
Visit to Bradford - National Media Museum and impressions gallery
Was in the area having dropped off my work for Assessment for the Course Photography3 - Your own Portfolio. I decided to visit the National Media Museum where there were two exhibitions and also visit the impressions gallery (part of the City Library) where I knew there was also an exhibition.
"Copper Horses" Chris Harrison (National Media Museum - 15 Nov 2013 - 9th Feb 2014)
Chris Harrison was the 16th Bradford Fellow and the exhibition marks the end of his tenure of that post. Established in 1985 the Fellowship is a partnership between the National Media Museum, Bradford College and the University of Bradford. In this exhibition Harrison reflects "upon identity, class, British industry and the photographer's relationship with his dad." (extract from entry in the National Media Museums' web site - www.nationalmediamuseum.org.uk).
The exhibition is broadly in two parts - a series of photographs of engineered parts and associated tools and oversized prints of Harrison's father gazing out to sea. However it would be wrong to think of them as separate entities because the two together give us a powerful insight into the nature of the relationship between father and son as seen from the viewpoint of the son. We are told that when Harrison was a boy "he believed that his father was a deep sea diver who had adventures every day. In reality, his dad worked in a factory as a precision engineer. By the time Chris had grown up he realised his father wasn't an adventurer. Instead, like many others, he worked hard to provide for his family in a difficult, skilled and often underappreciated (sic)job." One cannot help feeling that there is a lingering sense of disappointment,on the part of the son, that the father was not the hero he had created in his mind as a young child.
Many of the images were accompanied by a hand written caption that usually started with the words - "me Dad" - as though there was a need in the author to confirm and re-confirm the nature of the relationship. It was, for me, difficult to shake this image and I found myself interpreting what I saw solely in the terms of the message that we were supposed to receive. The majority of the 'engineering' images were shot against what seemed to be an oily rag and whilst this may have been the intention the result was to take away, from the photographed objects, the sense of creation of precision items by a highly skilled worker. The other main background was what appeared to be a timber wall scarred and worn by time and marked by apparently random paint marks that again detracted, in some way, from the skills and pride that were so much part of the main subject of the photograph.
It is of significance that the written message that presumably was designed to guide our thinking distorted the visual impact of the images whilst, at the same time, the images in some way denied or at least detracted from the written message. It may be the case that this was Harrison's intention; to force the viewer to resolve the ambiguities between the written word and what was being seen.
The over-sized images of his father were, presumably, taken within a short space of time as the figure barely moves and it was only by closely examining the changes in head and hand positions that one could detect that they were not all the same picture. The most striking feature was the fact that the father had his back to the camera and there was a complete lack of 'intimacy' between the photographer and the subject. The person pictured could have been anyone. I came to these images as the final part of my tour of the exhibition so my responses were already conditioned by what had gone before. I found it impossible to shake the idea that there was a gap between the reality we were being shown, and asked to accept, and the message that came across on viewing all the images.
It is a dangerous road to travel when one exposes to the world at large the nature of a relationship particularly between members of the same family. One has to acknowledge the bravery of Harrison's attempt and especially in such a public way. It is almost certain that the message the photographer wishes to relay will become distorted through the lens of each individual's personal history. I have little doubt that those reading this blog will wonder about my relationship with my father!
"Open for Business" 9 Magnum Photographers (National Media Museum 31st Jan - 5th May 2014)
We are told on the National Museum web-site (www.nationalmediamuseum.org.uk) that the exhibition is " the story of contemporary British manufacturing and industry told through the lens of 9 Magnum photographers: Jonas Bendiksen, Stuart Franklin, Bruce Gilden, David Hurn, Peter Marlow, Martin Parr, Mark Power, Chris Steele-Perkins and Alessandra Sanguinetti. They have photographed over 100 workplaces from traditional, handmade crafts to modern, intelligent automation; from foundries and assembly lines to research laboratories and high tech cleanrooms, showing an economic sector of extraordinary resilience and diversity." The question to ask then is - Does it achieve its aim?
In a very real sense the task was impossible. Although the photographers visited over 100 workplaces not all of these were represented in the exhibition and the places visited are but a miniscule part of the vast and complex manufacturing industry in Great Britain. We also have to acknowledge that what we are shown is the product of the photographers selection of subject matter and whoever made the final choice. There is a strong tendency amongst curators and others to set out on a project that has no chance of succeeding, no matter how talented the photographers, and then in the blurb that accompanies the work trying to justify in grandiose terms the content of the exhibition.
Having said that the quality of the individual images and the impact they make is well worth the trip. As always what one sees as being the best part is down to one's own past and set of norms. In my case the 'best' picture was the close in shot of the work on the Aircraft Carrier. The sheer size of this boat is brought home when one 'sees' the solitary figure in white overalls and safety helmet that is dwarfed by all around it. It could also be argued that the building of a Carrier at enormous cost that is highly unlikely to have to be used in anger and that could have been built for far less cost in a foreign shipyard sums up the approach of those with the purse strings to how we invest in our dying industries.
A close runner up was the photograph of the Pelamis wave machine. A dramatic shot that needs a caption to make sense of. Here the viewer is given few clues as to the nature of the beast in the image and could have been a submarine surfacing. Once more we can see the image as a reflection of the British approach to the development of new technology which ebbs and flows like the tides that drive this machine. However it is necessary to have some understanding of the politics of such decisions and their history to make sense of what is being shown. On their own few if any photographs convey a clear and unambiguous message and the photographer and the curator have to assume a level of knowledge amongst their clientele for images to make sense within the context of the overall purpose of the project.
"Day Dreaming About The Good Times" Paul Reas (impressions gallery Bradford 10th Dec 2013 - 8 Mar 2014)
The exhibition is described as the first major retrospective of work by the photographer who is stated to be in the information sheet available at the exhibition as one of the most significant photographers to emerge from the new wave of British colour documentary of the mid-1980's. The title is also the title of one of Reas' photographs which he took in Newport showing female workers in a factory making components for computers.
The 70 images on show include part of his series called "The Valleys Project", work undertaken for major manufacturers such as Volkswagen and assignments for national magazines. Reas tells us that he never set anything up and all the images were taken as the event was happening. I found the whole exhibition fascinating not only because of the quality of the work but also I was able to relate to many of the images being shown. Often I find that my response to an exhibition is dependent upon how much of the content has been, in some way, part of my life albeit at several times removed. I found this particularly true when visiting an exhibition where the the work of Don McCullin was on show. McCullin was a war photo-journalist who visited most of the worlds trouble spots during his long career. In the case of Reas' work although I hardly know Bradford I recognised the society and milieu in which the action took place.
Although this exhibition was an 'add-on', in the sense that I came across a mention of it purely by accident, it was for me the best of the day. I would recommend it to anyone.
"Copper Horses" Chris Harrison (National Media Museum - 15 Nov 2013 - 9th Feb 2014)
Chris Harrison was the 16th Bradford Fellow and the exhibition marks the end of his tenure of that post. Established in 1985 the Fellowship is a partnership between the National Media Museum, Bradford College and the University of Bradford. In this exhibition Harrison reflects "upon identity, class, British industry and the photographer's relationship with his dad." (extract from entry in the National Media Museums' web site - www.nationalmediamuseum.org.uk).
The exhibition is broadly in two parts - a series of photographs of engineered parts and associated tools and oversized prints of Harrison's father gazing out to sea. However it would be wrong to think of them as separate entities because the two together give us a powerful insight into the nature of the relationship between father and son as seen from the viewpoint of the son. We are told that when Harrison was a boy "he believed that his father was a deep sea diver who had adventures every day. In reality, his dad worked in a factory as a precision engineer. By the time Chris had grown up he realised his father wasn't an adventurer. Instead, like many others, he worked hard to provide for his family in a difficult, skilled and often underappreciated (sic)job." One cannot help feeling that there is a lingering sense of disappointment,on the part of the son, that the father was not the hero he had created in his mind as a young child.
Many of the images were accompanied by a hand written caption that usually started with the words - "me Dad" - as though there was a need in the author to confirm and re-confirm the nature of the relationship. It was, for me, difficult to shake this image and I found myself interpreting what I saw solely in the terms of the message that we were supposed to receive. The majority of the 'engineering' images were shot against what seemed to be an oily rag and whilst this may have been the intention the result was to take away, from the photographed objects, the sense of creation of precision items by a highly skilled worker. The other main background was what appeared to be a timber wall scarred and worn by time and marked by apparently random paint marks that again detracted, in some way, from the skills and pride that were so much part of the main subject of the photograph.
It is of significance that the written message that presumably was designed to guide our thinking distorted the visual impact of the images whilst, at the same time, the images in some way denied or at least detracted from the written message. It may be the case that this was Harrison's intention; to force the viewer to resolve the ambiguities between the written word and what was being seen.
The over-sized images of his father were, presumably, taken within a short space of time as the figure barely moves and it was only by closely examining the changes in head and hand positions that one could detect that they were not all the same picture. The most striking feature was the fact that the father had his back to the camera and there was a complete lack of 'intimacy' between the photographer and the subject. The person pictured could have been anyone. I came to these images as the final part of my tour of the exhibition so my responses were already conditioned by what had gone before. I found it impossible to shake the idea that there was a gap between the reality we were being shown, and asked to accept, and the message that came across on viewing all the images.
It is a dangerous road to travel when one exposes to the world at large the nature of a relationship particularly between members of the same family. One has to acknowledge the bravery of Harrison's attempt and especially in such a public way. It is almost certain that the message the photographer wishes to relay will become distorted through the lens of each individual's personal history. I have little doubt that those reading this blog will wonder about my relationship with my father!
"Open for Business" 9 Magnum Photographers (National Media Museum 31st Jan - 5th May 2014)
We are told on the National Museum web-site (www.nationalmediamuseum.org.uk) that the exhibition is " the story of contemporary British manufacturing and industry told through the lens of 9 Magnum photographers: Jonas Bendiksen, Stuart Franklin, Bruce Gilden, David Hurn, Peter Marlow, Martin Parr, Mark Power, Chris Steele-Perkins and Alessandra Sanguinetti. They have photographed over 100 workplaces from traditional, handmade crafts to modern, intelligent automation; from foundries and assembly lines to research laboratories and high tech cleanrooms, showing an economic sector of extraordinary resilience and diversity." The question to ask then is - Does it achieve its aim?
In a very real sense the task was impossible. Although the photographers visited over 100 workplaces not all of these were represented in the exhibition and the places visited are but a miniscule part of the vast and complex manufacturing industry in Great Britain. We also have to acknowledge that what we are shown is the product of the photographers selection of subject matter and whoever made the final choice. There is a strong tendency amongst curators and others to set out on a project that has no chance of succeeding, no matter how talented the photographers, and then in the blurb that accompanies the work trying to justify in grandiose terms the content of the exhibition.
Having said that the quality of the individual images and the impact they make is well worth the trip. As always what one sees as being the best part is down to one's own past and set of norms. In my case the 'best' picture was the close in shot of the work on the Aircraft Carrier. The sheer size of this boat is brought home when one 'sees' the solitary figure in white overalls and safety helmet that is dwarfed by all around it. It could also be argued that the building of a Carrier at enormous cost that is highly unlikely to have to be used in anger and that could have been built for far less cost in a foreign shipyard sums up the approach of those with the purse strings to how we invest in our dying industries.
A close runner up was the photograph of the Pelamis wave machine. A dramatic shot that needs a caption to make sense of. Here the viewer is given few clues as to the nature of the beast in the image and could have been a submarine surfacing. Once more we can see the image as a reflection of the British approach to the development of new technology which ebbs and flows like the tides that drive this machine. However it is necessary to have some understanding of the politics of such decisions and their history to make sense of what is being shown. On their own few if any photographs convey a clear and unambiguous message and the photographer and the curator have to assume a level of knowledge amongst their clientele for images to make sense within the context of the overall purpose of the project.
"Day Dreaming About The Good Times" Paul Reas (impressions gallery Bradford 10th Dec 2013 - 8 Mar 2014)
The exhibition is described as the first major retrospective of work by the photographer who is stated to be in the information sheet available at the exhibition as one of the most significant photographers to emerge from the new wave of British colour documentary of the mid-1980's. The title is also the title of one of Reas' photographs which he took in Newport showing female workers in a factory making components for computers.
The 70 images on show include part of his series called "The Valleys Project", work undertaken for major manufacturers such as Volkswagen and assignments for national magazines. Reas tells us that he never set anything up and all the images were taken as the event was happening. I found the whole exhibition fascinating not only because of the quality of the work but also I was able to relate to many of the images being shown. Often I find that my response to an exhibition is dependent upon how much of the content has been, in some way, part of my life albeit at several times removed. I found this particularly true when visiting an exhibition where the the work of Don McCullin was on show. McCullin was a war photo-journalist who visited most of the worlds trouble spots during his long career. In the case of Reas' work although I hardly know Bradford I recognised the society and milieu in which the action took place.
Although this exhibition was an 'add-on', in the sense that I came across a mention of it purely by accident, it was for me the best of the day. I would recommend it to anyone.
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