Shirley Baker (1932-2014) is thought to be the only woman practicing street photography in Britain during the post-war era. Baker’s humanist documentary work received little attention throughout her sixty-five years career.
“My sympathies lay with the people who were forced to exist miserably, often for months on end, sometimes years, whilst demolition went on all around them.”
The exhibition which was originally shown The Photographer’s Gallery, London.
specifically focuses on her depictions of the urban clearance programmes of inner city Manchester and Salford.
with photographs mainly taken during the 1960’s and 1970’s, the years when I was growing up – not in Manchester or Salford, but in a Lancashire mill town less than 20 miles away. The urban landscape was similar to that of the big city – with terraced streets and post war development. Other than the first year of my life (which I can’t, of course, remember) we lived in modern housing, initially on a Council Estate and then, in my teens, on a new build estate. But my grandparents lived in a terraced house on a typical street.
Shirley Baker was very much a “street photographer”, and took photographs of ordinary people – the women, children and “loitering men” who lived in the poorer parts of the “twin cities” of Manchester and Salford, in and around the terraced streets, bomb sites and slum clearances.
These photographs really resonated with me – as well as most of the visitors to the exhibition who I overheard talking as I walked around the galleries. The streets, the clothing and the activities depicted in the photographs, all brought back memories.
The young boy in the cowboy hat could have been me – I had one too and would have dressed just like that when I was a similar age.
and when I was a little older I could easily have been one of these boys fishing down the grid for “treasure” or one of the children playing on the makeshift swing made from a rope tied to the lamp-post in the picture at the top of this post.
The clothing the children and adults in the photos are wearing are very much the same as I remember. So very different from today’s “designer” outfits that even relatively young children wear today.
And the lady in this photograph is wearing very typical clothing for the time with her overcoat and headscarf – she could have been walking down any of the streets in my home town when I was growing up.
Here we can see an older woman cleaning the pavement, and possibly whitening the step with a “donkey stone” . People were poor but took pride in their homes. With her patterned housecoat covering her dress, her atire is typical of that worn by a working class woman of her age in the 60’s and 70’s in the north of England.
Inner city Salford and Manchester were poorer areas than the town in which I lived. So I don’t recall things as being quite as grim as in many of the photographs when I was a child. Nevertheless the photographs are representative of the world in which I lived.
I’d not heard of Shirley Baker before. It was difficult for women to establish a career as a photographer in the 1960’s.
(She studied) Pure Photography at Manchester College of Technology, being one of very few women in post-war Britain to receive formal photographic training. Upon graduating, she took up a position at Courtaulds the fabric manufacturers, as an in-house factory photographer. Working in industry did not meet her photographic ambitions in wanting to emulate a ‘slice of life’ style similar to that of Cartier-Bresson. She soon left to take up freelance work in the North West. Further study in medical photography over one year in a London hospital did little to settle her ambition to work as a press photographer. Hampered by union restrictions on female press photographers, she abandoned plans to work for the Manchester Guardian. Though she took up teaching positions in the 1960s, ultimately it was in pursuing her own projects where she came to feel most fulfilled. (Source)
More of her work can be seen on the Shirley Baker website.
When this exhibition was shown in London, many of the visitors (probably mainly middle class southerners) must have thought they were staring at a different world. But for me, and other visitors to the Manchester gallery, it brought back memories of our childhood and youth. (I’ve nothing against middle class southerners, by the way. I may have grown up in a working class family, but have to admit to being a middle class northerner these days)
In summary, this is an excellent exhibition which I will, no doubt, revisit, probably more than once, when I’m in Manchester over the next few months.
Addendum. I was in Manchester today to meet up with an Australian friend (like me a middle class professional, who grew up in a working class mining community) who was in the city for a short while. I introduced her to Lowry (she’d never heard of him) by showing her some of the pictures in the Gallery’s collection – and then took her to the exhibition to show her the world I grew up in.
While I was in Manchester last Saturday I called into the City Art Gallery to take a look at Strange and Familiar, an exhibition curated by Martin Parr featuring photographs of British society and culture by leading international photographers from the 1930’s onwards. It had previously been shown at the Barbican in London. It’s a large scale exhibition with over 250 photographs by 23 photographers and shown in a chronological order. There was a lot to take in and it is difficult to do justice to it in a relatively short post.
Publicity for the exhibition quotes Martin Parr as saying
“The exhibition will reveal a very different take on British life than that produced by British photographers. It is both familiar and strange at the same time.”
Having visited the exhibition a couple of times (I’d been previously not long after it first opened) I’m not certain I fully agree with him. The picture of Britain shown in the photographs from the 30’s up to the “swinging sixties” were familiar rather than strange, although taken from the perspective of International photographers from a number of countries, the photographs probably represented a realistic view of British culture and society.
The exhibition starts in the 1930’s with works by Edith Tudor-Hart. A lifelong Socialist, her work reflected her political commitment and the exhibition includes photographs by her of ordinary people in London’s East End and living in the slum housing areas of Tyneside.
Child Staring into Bakery Window, London ca. 1935 by Edith Tudor Hart
Other highlights for me included
- the marvellous photographs of people and landscapes from the Outer Hebrides in 1954 by Paul Strand, who left America in 1949, anxious about anti-Communist witch-hunts. They depict a proud, stoic community living in a stark, yet beautiful, environment.
- the Dutch photographer Cas Oorthuys photographs of Cambridge, London and Oxford – commuters queuing at bus stops, bowler-hatted city workers and London markets.
- The Swiss-American photographer Robert Frank’s photographs of a Welsh mining community
- The Chilean photographer Sergio Larrain’s expressive, Modernist photographs of London shot from unusual angles, with ground-level viewpoints, double exposures, blurring and innovative focusing.
- Photographs of London during the “Swinging Sixties” by American photographers Evelyn Hofer and Garry Winogrand, the German Frank Habicht and the Italian Gian Butturini
- The photographs of Bruce Davidson from the 60’s, especially his wonderful Girl Holding Kitten and his photographs from the Welsh mining community
- German photographer Candida Höfer’s photogrpahs of people and places in Liverpool in the late 60’s , many of them reminiscent of when I lived in Liverpool in the mid 70’s.
- The massive, closely cropped, stark colour portraits of ordinary people, (not exactly pretty) from Essex and West Brom
So much to see. So many excellent photographs. Much to learn from them.
Last Tuesday it was back down to London with work. I arrived mid-afternoon and had a few hours before I was due to meet up with a colleague so decided to take in an exhibition. Revolution: Russian Art 1917–1932 had recently opened at the Royal Academy so I decided to go and have a look.
This was my first visit to the RA, which is housed in the rather grand Burlington House just off Piccadilly in Mayfair, probably the poshest part of central London.
The building is also the home to a number of other societies, including the Royal Society of Chemistry, the Royal Astronomical Society and the Linnaean Society.
This year is the Centenary of the Russian Revolution when the workers and peasants rose up to overthrow their oppressors (there are other interpretations of the events, but that’s my take on them). Unfortunately the promise of a better society was undermined by events and dictatorship of the proletariat was replaced by the dictatorship of Stalin.
Art doesn’t exist in a vacuum and reflects what’s going on in wider society. At the turn of the 20th Century society was in turmoil and this led to the emergence of many ideas including avant-garde approaches to art. In Russia, artists including Kazimir Malevich (of the notorious Black Square, the founder of Suprematism), Wassily Kandinsky and Marc Chagall had produced ground breaking works before 1917. But with the Revolutions of that year, Society was turned upside down with the old structures and ways of doing things being overthrown – and this was reflected in the explosion of experimental and avant-garde art.
Kazimir Malevich,Dynamic Suprematism Supremus, 1915
Malevich wrote in 1919
‘Painting died, like the old regime, because it was an organic part of it,’
And what was true of painting was true for other art forms – photography, poetry, literature cinema, drama and architecture.
Many of the avant-garde artists at the time were active participants in the Revolution, producing posters and decorations for anniversaries, pageants, street theatre and agit-prop trains. Artists were encouraged to make art for everyday life that would reach a wide audience.
Boris Kustodiev, The Bolshevik, 1920
Unfortunately, this was not to last. In the 1920’s, in the face of counter-revolution and hostile intervention from the West, the regime began to turn against radicalism and the abstraction, and with the rise of Stalin, the avant-garde was considered to be anti-Soviet, the dictatorship preferring Socialist Realism which glorified the Proletariat, the State, the Party and it’s leader
And in 1932 Stalin decreed that Socialist Realism was the only acceptable style for the Soviet Union.
explores one of the most momentous periods in modern world history through the lens of its groundbreaking art
the entire artistic landscape of post-Revolutionary Russia, encompassing Kandinsky’s boldly innovative compositions, the dynamic abstractions of Malevich and the Suprematists, and the emergence of Socialist Realism, which would come to define Communist art as the only style accepted by the regime.
It includes paintings, drawings, photographs, film, textiles, ceramics and even a reconstruction of a Constructivist glider.
The curators have chosen a thematic rather than a chronological approach for the exhibition but, for me, that wasn’t appropriate. I don’t think that exhibitions have to be chronological,but this is meant to be a survey of art during a period of turmoil and how it changed, so it would have been logical to follow the timeline.
Not only that, for me, it started on the wrong foot. The first room was entitled Salute the Leader and featured portraits of Lenin and Stalin
Isaak Brodsky,V.I.Lenin and a Demonstration,1919.
To me this set the tone for the exhibition, suggesting, incorrectly, that right from the start the Revolution was about the leader, when this wasn’t actually the case;. the cult of the leader really began as the Revolution began to degenerate. Was this approach deliberate?
The second gallery was also out of sync with the timeline. Man and Machine displays works mainly from the late 1920’s and early 1930’s, when the new Soviet Union, having defeated the White counter-revolutionaries, was expanding its industrial production. 1928 saw the first of Stalin’s Five Year Plans which led to a massive increase in production. The works in this room included photographs, paintings, film clips and ceramics, all focusing on industry and workers.
Reconstruction of Vladimir Mayakovsky’s, Blacksmith, 1921
The photographs were particularly interesting especially as I’d only been to the exhibition of Modernist photographs from Elton John’s collection at Tate Modern just a few weeks ago. The photographs by Alexander Rodchenko, Boris Ignatovich, Arkady Shaiket, Georgi Zelma and Georgy Petrusov were outstanding examples of Modernist photography. Figurative images but abstract in the way they were composed – use of light and shade, unusual and unexpected angles and viewpoints
Arkady Shaikhet, Assembling the Globe at Moscow Telegraph Central Station, 1928
Presenting humdrum industrial objects in unexpected and interesting ways.
Boris Ignatovich Tightening the Bolt: Lever Controls for Tramways, 1930
Boris Ignatovich ,Control levers, 1930
This was realism – “but not as we know it Jim”
A similar approach was taken by film makers during the period and clips were showing on an overhead screen of films by Dziga Vertov and Vsevolod Pudovkin.
The next two rooms concentrated on avant-garde art from the early days of the Revolution
Radical innovations in Russian art had already occurred a few years before 1917, when artists such as Kazimir Malevich developed styles based on pure geometric form and colour. But in the heady days after the Revolution, Vasily Kandinsky, El Lissitzky, Pavel Filonov, Lyubov Popova and many others seized their chance to shake off the past and produce brave new art.
The existing cultural infrastructure collapsed. Trains brightly painted with slogans and images, distributing propaganda materials, travelled throughout the country spreading Bolshevik ideas and art. 5 Avant-garde artists took on official cultural roles and gathered around the People’s Commissariat of Enlightenment (known as NARKOMPROS), led by Anatoly Lunacharsky, which recognised their status and secured them state commissions – an important source of work in the absence of a commercial art market.
The freedom and euphoria of the Revolution produced some of the most remarkable talents in art, theatre, music, literature and architecture.
There were a number of discoveries for me including the propaganda glass paintings by Sofia Dymshits-Tolstaya
Dymshits-Tolstaya’s propaganda paintings were unconventional in their use of glass. They link images of workers’ tools with fragments of slogans from the early revolutionary years.
Ivan Puni’s Flight of Forms (1919)
and the intricate, multi levelled images of Pavel Filinov
Pavel Filinov Formula of the Petrograd Soviet (1920-21)
Gallery 3 also included photographic portraits of Russian artists from the period, including a portrait of Mayakovsky by Rodchenko
Moving on the next room, which included
an almost exact re-creation of that display. ‘Red Square (Pictorial Realism of a Peasant Woman in Two Dimensions)’ and ‘Black Square’ (a later version of the 1915 original) occupy the centre.
Complex Suprematist canvases are exhibited with Malevich’s later, more figurative paintings, in which blank faces hauntingly evoke lost identity on the collective farm. These were Malevich’s attempt to conform to the Soviet dogma that required art to be representational.
So we can now see how artists were having to adapt their works to the demands of the Stalinists while, as Malevich did, attempting to maintain a Modern approach to art
Kazimir Malevich,Peasants, (c. 1930)
Discoveries in this room included the paintings of Ivan Klyun
and the Suprematist designs on pottery by Malevich and Nikolai Suetin
Moving on through the galleries the art began to become more conventional reflecting the pressures of conforming to the directives of the State to produce more conventional Realist work.
However there was something of a surprise in the central gallery. A reproduction of an enormous bird like glider designed by Vladimir Tatlin. Reminiscent of a flying dinosaur, dramatically displayed, suspended from the ceiling, revolving and casting shadows from spotlights directed towards it from the ceiling.
It was worth the price of admission to see this astounding work.
I was less interested in the second half of the exhibition which traced the changes in artistic expression as the Stalinists consolidated power, with changes in output and style reflecting shifts in policy such as War Communism and the New Economic Policy (NEP)
Much has been written about how the Stalinists forced artists to abandon their avant-garde approaches and favour more traditional approaches to art. But I found it interesting to see the works produced by artists who were
nostalgic for the beauty and charm of the old Russia, rapidly disappearing under the boots of the proletarian masses
pleaded for the retention of the Orthodox faith and argued for the preservation of churches and the traditional peasant culture threatened by collectivisation. In lyrical paintings and beautifully decorated art journals, artists expressed their longing for a country that no longer existed
Little is said about the backward looking art of the counter-revolutionaries by those who criticise the Communists for preferring more traditional forms. Malevich would not have prospered if the Whites had been victorious.
The final room – Stalin’s Utopia – represented the final victory of Stalinism and Socialist Realism. Despite this some of the works revealed an undercurrent of innovation and originally
Alexander Deineka, Race, 1932
And it’s hard to completely suppress true talent, so the work of some artists, like Alexander Rodchenko still shone through
Aleksandr Rodchenko, Pioneer with a Bugle, 1930
After 1932 avant-garde art was suppressed. Within a year, it had vanished. The Union of Soviet Artists was the sole arbiter of Soviet art,and Socialist Realism became the only approved style in the Soviet Union.
Back to London on business this week. I had a course to run on Monday and had to stay over on Sunday night so I decided to take a train that got me into the big smoke around midday so that I could spend the afternoon doing something interesting.
When we visited Tate Modern during our short break in London before Christmas, I didn’t get chance to see the exhibition of Modernist photographs from Elton John’s collection. Tate Modern is so big, especially since the new extension– the Switch House – opened. But as I’m particularly interested in the work of radical, inventive photographers from the 20th century, typified by Man Ray, I was particularly keen to visit the exhibition. So this was a good opportunity.
Elton John began buying photographs in 1990, and has since then his collection has grown so that he has around 8,000 prints covering the walls of his apartment in Atlanta, Georgia. He’s accumulated one of the world’s great private collections of modernist photographs. A relatively small proportion have been selected for the Tate’s exhibition. There were plenty of photographs by Man Ray and other well known 20th Century photographers, but there were discoveries too.
With over 70 artists and nearly 150 rare vintage prints on show from seminal figures including Brassai, Imogen Cunningham, André Kertész, Dorothea Lange, Tina Modotti, and Aleksandr Rodchenko, this is a chance to take a peek inside Elton John’s home and delight in seeing such masterpieces of photography.
Like the reviewer from the Guardian I didn’t particularly like the picture frames,
often intrusive and over-elaborate; all that gold and distressed silver gilding, all those deluxe mats and rebates.
They weren’t really appropriate for the stark Modernist style images, but, like the reviewer, after a while, I stopped noticing them. The images themselves demanded my attention.
The photographs were displayed in 5 rooms, each taking a different theme. The second room was devoted to portraits of celebrities from the early 20th Century, mainly artists, writers and musicians. Elton John is clearly dazzled by celebrity (I didn’t find that surprising) but I found this the least interesting room. Although I could admire the skill of the photographers, I became bored with looking at a procession of famous faces and figures. The next room was more interesting. Although it still focused on the human form it concentrated on
Experimental approaches to shooting, cropping and framing could transform the human body into something unfamiliar. (Exhibition website)
Wilhelm Dancer by Ilse Bing
The next room concentrated on the work of documentary photographers including Dorothea Lang
The final room was probably my favourite, including photographs that pushed the boundaries of photography as art. .
It shows the still life genre reimagined by photographers who used the technical capabilities of the camera to reveal the beauty of everyday things. Objects captured at unconventional angles or extreme close-up become strange, even unrecognisable. (Exhibition website)
Shukhov Tower (1929) by Aleksandr Rodchenko
My favourite photograph from the exhibition, though, was one of the first ones I saw – in the first room – the View from the Berlin Radio Tower by László Moholy-Nagy
It looks like an abstract painting rather than a real landscape. It was apparently one of the first photographs bought by Elton John.
It’s always satisfying to discover a new artist when visiting an exhibition, and in this case I discovered two – both of them relatively unknown radical (artistically and politically) female photographers.
Tina Modotti was born in Italy and emigrated to the USA in 1913 when she was 16.
She had a fascinating life – she was an actress appearing in theatre, opera and several silent films. She modelled for the photographer Edward Weston, taking up photography herself and becoming his lover for a while. She moved to Mexico with him and got involved in radical politics joining the Communist Party . Later on she went to Russia and then to Spain during the Spanish Civil War. After the defeat of the Republicans she went back to Mexico and died from heart failure in Mexico City in 1942. Her photographs reflected her politics and passion for Mexico.
Workers Parade (1926) by Tina Modotti
Woman With Flag (1928) by Tina Modotti
Elfriede Stegemeyer was born in Germany in 1908, She studied art in Berlin and later in Cologne, where she joined the Cologne-based artistic circle Kölner Progressive in 1932. She travelled to Paris Ibiza and Eastern Europe, returning to Germany just before the outbreak of the Second World War. An anti-Nazi, she was arrested by the Gestapo in 1941 for high treason, but was released again.
Untitled (Electrical Lines) by Elfriede Stegemeyer
She produced photograms, photomontages, and still lives, and experimental compositions. Many of her photographs featured everyday objects, including drinking glasses intended for a book Die Schule des Sehens. Unfortunately, much of her work was destroyed in Berlin during World War II.
After the war, she worked under the pseudonym elde steeg.
She died in 1988.