Some photographs stay with you permanently, haunting your memory long after the pages of the newspaper in which you saw them have crumbled into dust. Images from the American civil rights movement, Kennedy’s assassination, the little girl burned by napalm running down a road in Vietnam, the lone protester in front of the tanks in Tiananmen Square in 1989, the woman screaming as she kneels over the body of a fellow-student shot dead during an anti-war protest at Kent Sate University in 1970…
Each of these images has come to represent more than the fleeting instant they captured: each now stands for the historical moment from which it emerged. And so it is with the iconic image of Edward Daly, the terrified priest waving a bloodied white handkerchief, calmly leading a group of men carry a dying teenager to safety under British paratrooper gunfire, in Derry on 30 January 1972, the day which came to be known as Bloody Sunday, on which 13 unarmed civil rights demonstrators were shot dead.
When I heard of Daly’s death yesterday I didn’t have to look up the image on the web: it was there, imprinted in my mind’s eye. Continue reading “Bloody Sunday 1972: the photograph seared into the memory”
I guess we’re all familiar with the way in which the French Impressionists shook up the art world in the 1870s by depicting landscapes and scenes from modern everyday life often painted outdoors using bright, pure colours applied with rapid, often visible brush-strokes.
What I didn’t know – until I found some of their paintings in the Rijkmuseum last month – was that at the same time a group of Dutch painters were similarly intent on representing the changing modern landscape of their country and daily life of its people; artists who, like their French counterparts, were keen to capture the sensation of the moment, and shifting patterns of light on the landscape by working in the open air.
The key difference lay in the Dutch artists’ initial preference for muted colours. Painting under the grey skies of the Netherlands the group became known as the ‘Grey School’, then later as the ‘Hague School’. Continue reading “Out and about with the Hague School”
It’s easy to see why the reviews have likened Marshland, the Spanish noir directed by Alberto Rodríguez to the first season of True Detective. The film opens with a title sequence comprising stunning aerial shots of the marshes that provide the story’s setting before plunging down into the terrain and introducing the two detectives sent to this remote area of southern Spain to investigate the disappearance (soon revealed to be the brutal murder) of two teenage sisters. Continue reading “Marshland: Spain’s True Detectives”
The photography of humanity.
– Gabriel García Márquez
There’s a moment two-thirds the way through watching Salt of the Earth, Wim Wenders’ stunning new documentary about the work of Sebastiao Salgado, when you feel crushed by the same existential despair felt by the photographer in 1995 when, after years photographing famine, war and genocide in Africa and Europe, he witnessed atrocious scenes in Rwanda and the Congo that left him shaken to the core, despairing of any hope for humanity. Continue reading “The Salt of the Earth: Sebastião Salgado’s own way of seeing”
A week or so ago I wrote about L8 Unseen, a photography exhibition at the Museum of Liverpool. Now I’ve been to see another exhibition of photographs from Liverpool 8, this one at the Bluecoat. Titled, Tricia Porter: Liverpool Photographs 1972-74, the show presents images virtually unseen for 40 years which provide a vivid picture of everyday life in Liverpool 8 at a time when it was undergoing significant change leading to the break-up of close knit communities. Continue reading “Tricia Porter’s photographs of Liverpool 8 in the 1970s”
Recently I was presented with a beautiful gift – a book by Dominick Tyler called Uncommon Ground: A word-lover’s guide to the British landscape. The book is the product of a year that Tyler spent travelling the length and breadth of the British Isles to photograph specific features of the natural world. Continue reading “Uncommon Ground: learning to read our landscape again”
There’s an engaging photography exhibition showing at the Museum of Liverpool at the moment. L8 Unseen features twenty arresting large-scale photographs of individuals and groups who have made their home in Liverpool 8, and whose work reflects its vibrant and determined culture. Continue reading “L8 Unseen: picturing a state of mind, an idea, a culture”