Some of these images are in The Last Resort, some aren't, some will be in the show, some won't, some are close cousins, and the contact sheet at the end was made in black and white because Parr was so broke when he came to live in New Brighton from Ireland. Here are some of those images, and here is what Martin said.
“I moved there in the spring of 1982 from Ireland because
Susie got a job in Liverpool as a speech therapist. I knew New Brighton because
I had shot in black and white there on
in the 1970s and I liked it. I liked the idea of looking over the river
and walking along the promenade.
I came back from Ireland where I was quite destitute because
I didn’t get any work there. When I got to New Brighton I started doing some
part time teaching at Newport and Farnham. They’re two places I taught
throughout the 1980s.
I was doing photography of course, but not commissions, not
really. Teaching was my main source of income. I did black and white pictures
in the 1970s because David Chadwick took me there once and I was very excited
about it. I’ve always liked that side of the British seaside; down-at-heel but
energised at the same time. New Brighton was shabby, and scruffy and dirty and
it had lots of energy – and it still had that in the 1980s. That’s less the case
now because a lot of the main attractions are gone like the lido, and it’s been
gentrified. But I haven’t seen it for 18 months or two years so I’ll find out
what it’s like when I go there in July.
When I moved back to Liverpool I got a Plaubel camera and
initially I started photographing urban scenes in Liverpool in the spring and
then immediately applied it to New Brighton because I felt an affinity.
Peter Fraser bought a Plaubel but he bought a standard and I
bought a wide and you could see the quality was extraordinary. Previously you
had Hasselblads and rangefinders, so the Plaubel was comparatively easy to use.
The only frustration was you’d have to change film after 10 pictures.
The colour was more of a critique than a celebration.
Although the pictures in black and white are hardly a celebration. They have
that melancholy look about them. I just showed it as it was. It had those
qualities written into it. Because apart from being rundown and part of the
fabric of the north, which is pretty shabby, it’s still the go-to place to take
the kids out for the day. People go to New Brighton, to the amusements, to the
sea, to the sand, albeit a bit dodgy. It’s either there or Southport. New
Brighton’s nearer and of course if you’re in Birkenhead it’s just up the road.
Pretty early on I thought, we’re on to something here. It
was pretty exciting. The combination of flash and colour worked. I’d seen that
with the American colour photographers and people like Andy Earle who did those
British social events and the John Hinde postcards. There was Peter Mitchell. I
was aware of the potential of colour and just took the plunge.
Tom (Wood) and Lorna were good friends of Susie and mine so
we’d socialise together and talk about work together. Tom did more portraits and
was more traditionally respectful of the people he photographed. But it’s not
for me to say what his work is like. That’s your job. I like his work and have supported him. We
have his pictures in the foundation. We go back a long way and he’s a very fine
photographer.
We had Ellen in 1986 so the babies were a foreshadowing.
Inevitably the babies would creep in. It wasn’t something conscious, it just
happened. You can read into that what you like. You’re a writer and that’s what
writers do. And I’m very happy that you do. Perhaps that can quell my critics.
It was first shown at the Open Eye with Tom, curated by Neil
Burgess. And nobody blinked an eye because everyone knows what New Brighton was
like. I can’t remember any negative comments from the Open Eye. It wasn’t a
shock for them to see what New Brighton was like. But as soon as it got down to
the Serpentine, I wouldn’t say all hell let loose, because that’s a brag that
isn’t true, but there was some negative feedback.
I realised early on that criticism wasn’t as harmful as you
might think. It’s better to be observed than ignored. People who go to the
Serpentine don’t know what the north is like. It’s middle classes, people like
you and I. Here is a middle-class photographer taking the piss out of, you know
all the arguments, you know them pretty well.
Basically the percentage of people who see an art show at
the Serpentine is miniscule. It was a non-event. It had more feedback when it
went to Arles in 1986 because there the response was overwhelmingly positive
and I guess it opened up my career to European audiences which can do no harm.
It’s great to be known as a European photographer and to this day I do as much
work in Europe as I do in the UK.
At one point there was discussion about doing a book with
Tom, but I stuck out for doing a book on my own because I knew it would work
and I applied for a subsidy to help that along and I received it.
I was doing the teaching so I’d be doing a lot of journeys
down to Farnham and Newport. I used to stay with Paul Graham and Paul Trevor. I
photographed in New Brighton most weekends and occasionally in the week when it
was hot. I’d stroll out around 11 o’clock when people were beginning to arrive
and come back at five or six when things started to feel like it was over.
I shot it over three summers. Three summers and it was
there. There was nothing more to do. I don’t know how many rolls I shot,
probably two or three hundred. The book’s only got 40 pictures in. It’s enough
to get the message across. We all put too many pictures in books. We’re all
guilty of that. We can’t let go of your babies.
Susie didn’t like it because she’s a swimmer and she
couldn’t swim. The water’s weren’t particularly attractive. She didn’t much
like it. She was not as big a swimmer then as she is now. In July when we’re up
the water’s may be better. My sister told me there’s dolphins up the Mersey
now. It’s got a lot cleaner.
It’s all been asked. It’s a pretty well-known story. I feel
almost embarrassed on your behalf. You can’t dig into a corner of my life that
has been hidden away. You’re best talking to Susie and Tom.”
2 comments:
The Last Resort continues to be a minor miracle of a book, each picture a story within a story. His latter photography, while still intense, became more and more one liners, less novellas. I don't think anyone could have kept that intensity of vision forever.
This has to be one of the great interviews, seemingly off the cuff and yet reveals so much about Martin Parr's outlook. It's quite brilliant. I leave with big respect for his work, which is good as I have quite a few of his books.
Post a Comment