Writing
Reviews of exhibitions and photo books as well as creative writing.
Exhibition Review: Only in England – The Beaney House of Art & Knowledge
Canterbury’s latest photographic exhibition ‘Only in England’ features the work of iconic photographers Tony Ray-Jones (1941–1972) and Martin Parr.
Ray-Jones began photographing England and its inhabitants in the 1960s, creating a body of work reminiscent of documentary photography, but with a strong sense of narrative. The exhibition holds close to 100 images by Ray-Jones in which he explored England through the lives of the ordinary, freeze-framing their activities for all to see.
‘The Non-Conformists’ by Parr also features in the exhibition. Parr’s series was inspired by Ray-Jones after the two met before the latter’s untimely death. Parr also photographed England, turning his camera to Hebden Bridge in the mid-70s, capturing the everyday life of its residents.
‘Only in England’ aims to draws comparisons between the two artists, and explore how their fascination with ‘Britishness’ influenced their image-making throughout this period.
UCA Photography Student GEORGETTE TAYLOR reviews.
Before we even reach the main gallery we are met by an unassuming glass case, which, upon closer inspection, houses documents and notes detailing the life of Tony Ray-Jones. On display are examples of the photographer’s film development process, as well as a newspaper headline from the day he died. The most telling and intriguing documents however, are handwritten notes from Ray-Jones himself. From these scraps of paper it is revealed that Ray-Jones may have indeed been his own worst critic, with personal reminders always to strive for what he considered the ‘perfect’ image. Ultimately, housed in this glass case is evidence of the intensity of Ray-Jones’ practice and how fully he was invested in the medium of photography.
Entering the main gallery it is clear that the exhibition layout has been carefully considered in order to highlight the relationship between Ray-Jones and Parr. All four walls are dedicated to the photographs of Ray-Jones, with Parr’s work displayed in the middle of the room on a singular standalone surface. Parr’s work has been surrounded by that of Ray-Jones, bringing attention to the fact that the former has taken inspiration from the latter. Encompassing Parr’s images like this is a clever way of stating the relationship between the two photographers in a physical way for all to see. Separate, but still together.
This connection can be seen again further into the exhibition, as we are greeted with a selection of previously unseen works from the Ray-Jones collection, personally selected by Parr. It is the perfect way to capture an interaction between the two, even if it is one sided. Parr has been permitted to search through the catalogue of images made by a photographer who has arguably influenced his own practice. We are exposed to new images from Ray-Jones, but more importantly we have a glimpse into the mind of Parr, through the images he has chosen. More than anything, this underlines the influence Ray-Jones has had on his contemporary.
Exploring the photographs, it is apparent that Ray-Jones was a master of the chance encounter. His photographs reveal candid moments in time, captured in a present that would soon become the past. Ray-Jones photographed all walks of life, from the middle class to the working class, from beach scenes to city streets across England. The result is a collection of intimate, curious and sometimes mundane moments between people and their British backdrop.
The main question Ray-Jones’ photographs raise, is ‘who?’ Who are these people captured for all eternity in black and white film? What are they thinking about in that very moment? What circumstances brought them to be there just as Ray-Jones released the shutter? Although Ray-Jones was very controlled in his image-making, his hand written notes and compositions lending proof to this, the viewer is able to let their imagination run wild and create their own scenarios and narratives from the black and white stills. Ray-Jones’ photographs, although taken in his present, now serve as a piece of history.
Parr’s displayed photographs are from his early series ‘The Non-Conformists’, showing life in Hebden Bridge. Parr’s main focus is the working class and poverty. A range of emotions are evoked in his work, from the happiness exuding from a candid wedding shot to the accusation felt in an image of lunching middle class women juxtaposed with a depiction of the last supper. Whereas Ray-Jones seems to be commenting on the variety of life across England, Parr’s narrative feels more political, as if he is making a statement both about the poverty he has witnessed and a perceived decline in the traditional country life.
The main difference between his work and that of Ray-Jones is the composition. It feels as if Parr is closer to his subject, and that they are surely aware of his presence. His images have a more intimate feel, however the lack of eye contact from the subjects helps to maintain some level of distance. As a viewer we are there, with them in the moment, but also separated by the perceived barrier.
If anything, ‘Only in England’ highlights how two different photographer have transformed the mundane across England into something wondrous and engaging. Both Ray-Jones and Parr provide a portal back in time allowing visitors to witness the history of England first hand. Every aspect of life is seized upon, showing everyday life as both banal and bizarre.
At the exhibition’s exit is a second glass case with more documents about Ray-Jones, among them a list in which the late photographer notes the characteristics and qualities of the British. He cites a ‘love of tradition’, the ‘art of compromise and muddling through’ and ‘privacy’ as particular British traits, but perhaps the most telling of all is a bullet point which reads ‘uneventful’. The irony is not lost, especially in a room full of busy photographs showing several different lives in each scene. Ray-Jones sums up ‘Only in England’ best in his final point; ‘A country lacking in drama and yet the people have a fine sense of drama’.
Only in England: Photographs by Tony Ray-Jones and Martin Parr is on display in the Special Exhibitions Room at The Beaney House of Art & Knowledge, 18 High Street, Canterbury CT1 2RA from 9 July to 25 September 2016. Admission: Pay What You Can.
thebeaney.co.uk
First published by WOW Kent
Canterbury’s latest photographic exhibition ‘Only in England’ features the work of iconic photographers Tony Ray-Jones (1941–1972) and Martin Parr.
Ray-Jones began photographing England and its inhabitants in the 1960s, creating a body of work reminiscent of documentary photography, but with a strong sense of narrative. The exhibition holds close to 100 images by Ray-Jones in which he explored England through the lives of the ordinary, freeze-framing their activities for all to see.
‘The Non-Conformists’ by Parr also features in the exhibition. Parr’s series was inspired by Ray-Jones after the two met before the latter’s untimely death. Parr also photographed England, turning his camera to Hebden Bridge in the mid-70s, capturing the everyday life of its residents.
‘Only in England’ aims to draws comparisons between the two artists, and explore how their fascination with ‘Britishness’ influenced their image-making throughout this period.
UCA Photography Student GEORGETTE TAYLOR reviews.
Before we even reach the main gallery we are met by an unassuming glass case, which, upon closer inspection, houses documents and notes detailing the life of Tony Ray-Jones. On display are examples of the photographer’s film development process, as well as a newspaper headline from the day he died. The most telling and intriguing documents however, are handwritten notes from Ray-Jones himself. From these scraps of paper it is revealed that Ray-Jones may have indeed been his own worst critic, with personal reminders always to strive for what he considered the ‘perfect’ image. Ultimately, housed in this glass case is evidence of the intensity of Ray-Jones’ practice and how fully he was invested in the medium of photography.
Entering the main gallery it is clear that the exhibition layout has been carefully considered in order to highlight the relationship between Ray-Jones and Parr. All four walls are dedicated to the photographs of Ray-Jones, with Parr’s work displayed in the middle of the room on a singular standalone surface. Parr’s work has been surrounded by that of Ray-Jones, bringing attention to the fact that the former has taken inspiration from the latter. Encompassing Parr’s images like this is a clever way of stating the relationship between the two photographers in a physical way for all to see. Separate, but still together.
This connection can be seen again further into the exhibition, as we are greeted with a selection of previously unseen works from the Ray-Jones collection, personally selected by Parr. It is the perfect way to capture an interaction between the two, even if it is one sided. Parr has been permitted to search through the catalogue of images made by a photographer who has arguably influenced his own practice. We are exposed to new images from Ray-Jones, but more importantly we have a glimpse into the mind of Parr, through the images he has chosen. More than anything, this underlines the influence Ray-Jones has had on his contemporary.
Exploring the photographs, it is apparent that Ray-Jones was a master of the chance encounter. His photographs reveal candid moments in time, captured in a present that would soon become the past. Ray-Jones photographed all walks of life, from the middle class to the working class, from beach scenes to city streets across England. The result is a collection of intimate, curious and sometimes mundane moments between people and their British backdrop.
The main question Ray-Jones’ photographs raise, is ‘who?’ Who are these people captured for all eternity in black and white film? What are they thinking about in that very moment? What circumstances brought them to be there just as Ray-Jones released the shutter? Although Ray-Jones was very controlled in his image-making, his hand written notes and compositions lending proof to this, the viewer is able to let their imagination run wild and create their own scenarios and narratives from the black and white stills. Ray-Jones’ photographs, although taken in his present, now serve as a piece of history.
Parr’s displayed photographs are from his early series ‘The Non-Conformists’, showing life in Hebden Bridge. Parr’s main focus is the working class and poverty. A range of emotions are evoked in his work, from the happiness exuding from a candid wedding shot to the accusation felt in an image of lunching middle class women juxtaposed with a depiction of the last supper. Whereas Ray-Jones seems to be commenting on the variety of life across England, Parr’s narrative feels more political, as if he is making a statement both about the poverty he has witnessed and a perceived decline in the traditional country life.
The main difference between his work and that of Ray-Jones is the composition. It feels as if Parr is closer to his subject, and that they are surely aware of his presence. His images have a more intimate feel, however the lack of eye contact from the subjects helps to maintain some level of distance. As a viewer we are there, with them in the moment, but also separated by the perceived barrier.
If anything, ‘Only in England’ highlights how two different photographer have transformed the mundane across England into something wondrous and engaging. Both Ray-Jones and Parr provide a portal back in time allowing visitors to witness the history of England first hand. Every aspect of life is seized upon, showing everyday life as both banal and bizarre.
At the exhibition’s exit is a second glass case with more documents about Ray-Jones, among them a list in which the late photographer notes the characteristics and qualities of the British. He cites a ‘love of tradition’, the ‘art of compromise and muddling through’ and ‘privacy’ as particular British traits, but perhaps the most telling of all is a bullet point which reads ‘uneventful’. The irony is not lost, especially in a room full of busy photographs showing several different lives in each scene. Ray-Jones sums up ‘Only in England’ best in his final point; ‘A country lacking in drama and yet the people have a fine sense of drama’.
Only in England: Photographs by Tony Ray-Jones and Martin Parr is on display in the Special Exhibitions Room at The Beaney House of Art & Knowledge, 18 High Street, Canterbury CT1 2RA from 9 July to 25 September 2016. Admission: Pay What You Can.
thebeaney.co.uk
First published by WOW Kent
Photo Book Review: Norilsk by Alexander Gronsky
The first thing one notices of Alexander Gronsky’s ‘Norilsk’, is the excessively thick hardback cover made from cardboard. Using this material to cover his book has given Gronsky a sturdy and rigid publication that feels as if it is unbreakable and made to last. It is only when the book is opened and the photographs explored that the choice behind this method of binding becomes apparent.
Gronsky has photographed Norilsk; an industrial city in Russia. His urban landscapes capture high-rise buildings and factories as well as their surrounding environment. We see Norilsk as a city in ruin, left abandoned and uncared for, marked by time that has laid waste to the surroundings. However despite the run down state of the buildings and structures, they still stand. The thick cardboard cover now feels like it resembles the industrial landscape, tough and unyielding- a toughness also shown through the shape of the book, its pages lining up exactly with the cover, creating a solid shape that is almost brick-like in its strength and formation. Even the size of the book, which is relatively thin and rectangular, resembles the shape of high-rise structures: the physical aspects of the book represent the city of Norilsk.
Looking back through Gronsky’s photographs, the overall atmosphere is melancholic, leaving the viewer with the sense that Norilsk was once a city that thrived, but now only a few traces of life remain. It is clear that people still work in and, perhaps, inhabit Norilsk; there are cars parked around the buildings in some photographs, with other images even capturing people in the streets. However the isolation of the city is emphasised by the presence of these people, who appear small and insignificant compared to the towering industrial structures that dwarf them. It is as if these manmade structures have taken over the environment, dominating the landscape and pushing out any remaining traces of nature. Man’s creation has consumed the land on which it was built, taking over the space with the sheer amount and variety of buildings seeming like overkill. It is almost too much for one city to house, and yet it does.
Gronsky’s use of space is flawless. Each of his landscape photographs have been awarded a double page spread, allowing the images to breathe on their own with no need to jostle for position. The images are shown equally, all adopting the same size and layout. At first this seems overly repetitive and restrictive, as if there is no room for freedom when it comes to presentation. The photographs are confined to their allocated space, something that is not debatable. However it soon becomes clear that the repetitive layout within the book is reminiscent of the repeated industrial structures in Norilsk. The book’s presentation stays the same because Norilsk stays the same: regardless of the landscape, the city is held in a permanent state of disrepair.
The colours of the paper seem as though it has been taken directly from Norilsk itself, sampled from the ailing landscape and reused. Opening the book, the viewer is immediately greeted with a rusty brown endpaper, reflective of the exposed brick industrial buildings that are present throughout. The rest of the pages are off-white and form thick boarders around each of Gronsky’s photographs. The off-white provides a neutral environment from which the photographs emanate dominantly. Having a border feels necessary in this publication, framing each image and highlighting its contents. The publication opens perfectly flat meaning that centre of the photographs are not lost to the gutter: All aspect of the images can be seen, from the worn and weary structures to the dismal tones of the sky. Nothing is lost, except perhaps a sense of life in this ghost-town of a city.
Going back to the cover of ‘Norilsk’ it is clear that the design further enhances the isolated atmosphere of the photographed city, and the insignificance of human presence. The front and back cover show a full bleed photograph from the series, dominating the space in the same way that the industrial structures dominate Norilsk.
The title and authors name can be seen in the top left corner of the front cover, its black text standing out against the lifeless backdrop of the sky. The font is small and unassuming, allowing the photograph to be the main aspect of the cover, its size reflecting the size of the people present in the landscape. Once again Norilsk is allowed to dominate and nothing is beyond its reach. The city has consumed Gronsky’s book the same way it has consumed the Russian landscape, unapologetic and demanding.
It is clear that every aspect of Gronsky’s publication has been designed in excruciating detail. The physical qualities of the book reflect perfectly is contents, extending the industrial atmosphere of Norilsk beyond its off-white, sturdy pages. The work speaks of the sturdy and durable nature of Norilsk’s structures, as well as Gronsky’s images. ‘Norilsk’ reads like a love letter to a forgotten city, its existence captured and preserved forever. Because of Gronsky Norilsk will never die, standing the test of time even when it is long gone.
The first thing one notices of Alexander Gronsky’s ‘Norilsk’, is the excessively thick hardback cover made from cardboard. Using this material to cover his book has given Gronsky a sturdy and rigid publication that feels as if it is unbreakable and made to last. It is only when the book is opened and the photographs explored that the choice behind this method of binding becomes apparent.
Gronsky has photographed Norilsk; an industrial city in Russia. His urban landscapes capture high-rise buildings and factories as well as their surrounding environment. We see Norilsk as a city in ruin, left abandoned and uncared for, marked by time that has laid waste to the surroundings. However despite the run down state of the buildings and structures, they still stand. The thick cardboard cover now feels like it resembles the industrial landscape, tough and unyielding- a toughness also shown through the shape of the book, its pages lining up exactly with the cover, creating a solid shape that is almost brick-like in its strength and formation. Even the size of the book, which is relatively thin and rectangular, resembles the shape of high-rise structures: the physical aspects of the book represent the city of Norilsk.
Looking back through Gronsky’s photographs, the overall atmosphere is melancholic, leaving the viewer with the sense that Norilsk was once a city that thrived, but now only a few traces of life remain. It is clear that people still work in and, perhaps, inhabit Norilsk; there are cars parked around the buildings in some photographs, with other images even capturing people in the streets. However the isolation of the city is emphasised by the presence of these people, who appear small and insignificant compared to the towering industrial structures that dwarf them. It is as if these manmade structures have taken over the environment, dominating the landscape and pushing out any remaining traces of nature. Man’s creation has consumed the land on which it was built, taking over the space with the sheer amount and variety of buildings seeming like overkill. It is almost too much for one city to house, and yet it does.
Gronsky’s use of space is flawless. Each of his landscape photographs have been awarded a double page spread, allowing the images to breathe on their own with no need to jostle for position. The images are shown equally, all adopting the same size and layout. At first this seems overly repetitive and restrictive, as if there is no room for freedom when it comes to presentation. The photographs are confined to their allocated space, something that is not debatable. However it soon becomes clear that the repetitive layout within the book is reminiscent of the repeated industrial structures in Norilsk. The book’s presentation stays the same because Norilsk stays the same: regardless of the landscape, the city is held in a permanent state of disrepair.
The colours of the paper seem as though it has been taken directly from Norilsk itself, sampled from the ailing landscape and reused. Opening the book, the viewer is immediately greeted with a rusty brown endpaper, reflective of the exposed brick industrial buildings that are present throughout. The rest of the pages are off-white and form thick boarders around each of Gronsky’s photographs. The off-white provides a neutral environment from which the photographs emanate dominantly. Having a border feels necessary in this publication, framing each image and highlighting its contents. The publication opens perfectly flat meaning that centre of the photographs are not lost to the gutter: All aspect of the images can be seen, from the worn and weary structures to the dismal tones of the sky. Nothing is lost, except perhaps a sense of life in this ghost-town of a city.
Going back to the cover of ‘Norilsk’ it is clear that the design further enhances the isolated atmosphere of the photographed city, and the insignificance of human presence. The front and back cover show a full bleed photograph from the series, dominating the space in the same way that the industrial structures dominate Norilsk.
The title and authors name can be seen in the top left corner of the front cover, its black text standing out against the lifeless backdrop of the sky. The font is small and unassuming, allowing the photograph to be the main aspect of the cover, its size reflecting the size of the people present in the landscape. Once again Norilsk is allowed to dominate and nothing is beyond its reach. The city has consumed Gronsky’s book the same way it has consumed the Russian landscape, unapologetic and demanding.
It is clear that every aspect of Gronsky’s publication has been designed in excruciating detail. The physical qualities of the book reflect perfectly is contents, extending the industrial atmosphere of Norilsk beyond its off-white, sturdy pages. The work speaks of the sturdy and durable nature of Norilsk’s structures, as well as Gronsky’s images. ‘Norilsk’ reads like a love letter to a forgotten city, its existence captured and preserved forever. Because of Gronsky Norilsk will never die, standing the test of time even when it is long gone.