Today, I engaged in a cultural activity that did not involve my usual (academic, you understand) analysis of how the High Street has interpreted the latest catwalk fashions. I took myself off to the Tate Britain, to see the How We Are: Photographing Britain exhibition.
The exhibition itself was very patchy; some of it was very carelessly put together, parts of it bordered on social offensiveness (in terms both of what it omitted and what it chose to include out of political correctness), and some of it was outstandingly wonderful. My cultural outing was marred only by a sweaty man with terrible body odour and halitosis, who kept getting too close and breathing heavily on me, and having to be ushered outside for half an hour when the fire alarm went off. (I find fire alarms really bloody irritating. I always refuse to leave my desk at work during fire drills, and once, the office services manager had to forcibly remove me from the building, because I was trying to close a deal with a client who was about to go on his honeymoon and I thought the contract was more important than standing in the street, while self-important jobsworths paced up and down in fluorescent yellow waistcoats (in broad daylight!) barking orders. But anyway, I digress.)
I adore photography, which has rightfully earned respect as a form of art in itself, as well as serving as integral historical documentary and an important journalistic form. I did feel that the exhibition could have made more of this. Focusing chronologically from 1840 until the present day, I thought that the era divisions were a little random. The first part of the exhibition seemed to look more at early photographic technologies and themes, and it only became more socially, politically and culturally exploratory later on.
Its opening claims that “[t]he unique story of British photography exposes a strong social conscience, a love of the ordinary, an intense curiosity and the constant need to record” were overblown and over-generalised: doesn’t all photography necessarily do this?? I also found the idea that the photography represented “a constantly shifting notion of British identity” bordering on offensive. First of all, the only Britishness in the exhibition seemed to be Englishness(!) and secondly, I didn’t feel that the exhibition explored this theme enough. In many ways, much of the exhibition had been thrown together randomly.
In 2 of the sections, the explanatory blurb boasted of the proliferation of women photographers very early on, which was pointless and patronising. If they were trying to make a statement about how inclusive of minorities they are (after the “Britishness” gaffe), they failed miserably: to include a mere 3 photographs of the Suffragettes, one of the most politically and socially significant political movements in Britain (none of which included iconic images of women chaining themselves to railings!) in the 20th century, was an absolute travesty.
I have taken pages of notes, which are very boring to read, so here are a few of my thematic highlights (I am glossing over photographic postcards, and themes of gardening, cookery, the countryside and natural history, all of which I find crashingly boring):
1. Images of celebrities and royalty. I love portraits. One of my favourite spaces is the National Portrait Gallery, where I am known to indulge my obsession with Tudor history and can spend hours staring at portraits of King Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I. I am fascinated by the 3-way interaction between the viewer, the artist and the subject, as well as the propaganda aspect and constant shift of religious values. Portraits in this exhibition included a collection of portraits of Queen Victoria, portraying her variously as wife, mother and monarch.
The exhibition itself was very patchy; some of it was very carelessly put together, parts of it bordered on social offensiveness (in terms both of what it omitted and what it chose to include out of political correctness), and some of it was outstandingly wonderful. My cultural outing was marred only by a sweaty man with terrible body odour and halitosis, who kept getting too close and breathing heavily on me, and having to be ushered outside for half an hour when the fire alarm went off. (I find fire alarms really bloody irritating. I always refuse to leave my desk at work during fire drills, and once, the office services manager had to forcibly remove me from the building, because I was trying to close a deal with a client who was about to go on his honeymoon and I thought the contract was more important than standing in the street, while self-important jobsworths paced up and down in fluorescent yellow waistcoats (in broad daylight!) barking orders. But anyway, I digress.)
I adore photography, which has rightfully earned respect as a form of art in itself, as well as serving as integral historical documentary and an important journalistic form. I did feel that the exhibition could have made more of this. Focusing chronologically from 1840 until the present day, I thought that the era divisions were a little random. The first part of the exhibition seemed to look more at early photographic technologies and themes, and it only became more socially, politically and culturally exploratory later on.
Its opening claims that “[t]he unique story of British photography exposes a strong social conscience, a love of the ordinary, an intense curiosity and the constant need to record” were overblown and over-generalised: doesn’t all photography necessarily do this?? I also found the idea that the photography represented “a constantly shifting notion of British identity” bordering on offensive. First of all, the only Britishness in the exhibition seemed to be Englishness(!) and secondly, I didn’t feel that the exhibition explored this theme enough. In many ways, much of the exhibition had been thrown together randomly.
In 2 of the sections, the explanatory blurb boasted of the proliferation of women photographers very early on, which was pointless and patronising. If they were trying to make a statement about how inclusive of minorities they are (after the “Britishness” gaffe), they failed miserably: to include a mere 3 photographs of the Suffragettes, one of the most politically and socially significant political movements in Britain (none of which included iconic images of women chaining themselves to railings!) in the 20th century, was an absolute travesty.
I have taken pages of notes, which are very boring to read, so here are a few of my thematic highlights (I am glossing over photographic postcards, and themes of gardening, cookery, the countryside and natural history, all of which I find crashingly boring):
1. Images of celebrities and royalty. I love portraits. One of my favourite spaces is the National Portrait Gallery, where I am known to indulge my obsession with Tudor history and can spend hours staring at portraits of King Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I. I am fascinated by the 3-way interaction between the viewer, the artist and the subject, as well as the propaganda aspect and constant shift of religious values. Portraits in this exhibition included a collection of portraits of Queen Victoria, portraying her variously as wife, mother and monarch.
2. The portrayals of the “little people”, banding together to fight, in their own small ways, for social change. There was a great collection of photographs published in New Left Review from Humphrey Spender (1936), of the Jarrow Marchers, a group of 207 men, who marched to Parliament from North-East England to demonstrate against poverty and unemployment.
3. How photography, perhaps more than any other art, can simultaneously convey the dichotomous relationship between poverty and affluence and show war and glamour almost comfortably co-existing in one single still.
4. Playing around with different notions of nationhood. This was more implied than explicitly shown (but what would you expect from an exhibition of Britain that only looks at England?). I really enjoyed the snapshots of early-mid 1950s life in Bethnal Green (Nigel Henderson), of mid-late 1960s Notting Hill (Charlie Phillips) and Roger Mayne’s Southam Street collection (1957-ish), showing the shifting cultural diversity on Britain (specifically London!)’s streets.
5. Fashion and style! Yes, I have a particular interest in this, but actually, it reveals a lot about progressive culture, particularly post-WW2. I loved Norman Parkinson’s collection of beautifully dressed models, theatrically posing against a backdrop of the city (Fashion and the City – 2 of my greatest loves!) and Derek Ridger’s portrayal of the new wave of London clubbers, looking at Punks and New Romantics. (But where were Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm MacLaren in all of this??! – another weakness of the exhibition). There was also some work by Jason Evans; a shoot entitled “Strictly”, which appeared in i-D Magazine in 1991. Styled by Simon Foxton, it showcased a collection of macho streetwear, which was also very effeminate, and was modelled by black men, in an attempt to break stereotypes.
6. The political consciousness, anger and social rage of the 1970s (which I could happily and wistfully talk about for hours – oh what has happened to us?) There was also a shift in form and representation (which I won’t go into here), and a lot of the photography turned from documentary to satire, where “Britishness” was cariacatured. I found the most powerful and moving images in the little detail (and this I particularly enjoyed because of my strong interest in other people):
· Nancy Hellebrand’s images of random Londoners in their (mostly squalid) homes (ps, the “Britishness” was very London-centric);
· Chris Killip’s portrayal of the effects of economic decline on the people of North-East England
· Homer Sykes had produced some excellent images which played around with themes of representation; his images included accidental participants and spectators to the central image – brilliant
· Martin Parr’s colourful satire on the attitudes and aspirations of the English middle classes – I loved the self-awareness and problematising of the fact that he had benefited from the very political order he opposed (don’t we all struggle with that but do nothing about it?)
7. Significant social changes and Thatcher-hating in the 1980s
· A couple of excellent Anna Fox images were used, looking at office workers around 1987. Apart from the ghastly hairstyles, fashions and brick-sized mobile phones, one image showed the reception area of one office with a picture of Maggie hanging on the wall behind them. It was creepily Stalinesque, and also kind of reminded me of the excessive Sadaam imagery in Iraq. Also, another image of yuppies stuffing themselves with rich, fatty food
· Aspirational “Britain” – in this case Romford, Essex, around the time of the “Right to Buy” council-owned homes policy
· Greenham Common…
8. The final part of the exhibition, focusing on the 1990s until the present day (when, interestingly, the commercial aspect of photography as a genre has largely given way to the acceptance of photography as a valid and respected art form – again, sloppily compiled – included some powerful images:
· Chris Harrison’s postmodern images of WW1 memorials in contemporary surroundings, eg outside a large Tesco store. Yes, it’s vulgar, but it’s also modern, and represents change, movement, modernity, the cycle of life, the future, rebuilding, a shared history and future, etc, as well as being representative of (at least) London architecture
· Penny Klepuszewska’s “Living Arrangements”. God, I found this so moving. 4 images, showing simple, everyday objects belonging to elderly people, against a dark background, eg one of those old-fashioned handbags old women always carry, or an old-fashioned radio or a blanket. Intended to address loneliness and bereavement in old age, it also reminded me of those heart-breaking Holocaust images of piles of people’s abandoned and very personal possessions, like shoes or glasses, or carefully labelled suitcases.
· Albrecht Tuebke’s collection of images of random citizens of London. Not images of stereotypes or people who blend into the background, but some of the more eccentrically dressed and interesting-looking people one finds in London (usually harassing you on the Underground).
Finally (if anyone can still be bothered to read on), the Tate Britain invites members of the public to contribute their own images to the exhibition (how fabulously postmodern, darling!), under the theme of portraiture, landscape, still life or documentary.
I am going to think about what image I could contribute…
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