Featured post

Looking at Photographs: New series of talks at the RPS

  Sign up to my new series of talks on the History and Theory of Photography . Starts in September and it's perfect if you want an intro...

Tuesday, 3 August 2021

Looking at Photographs: New series of talks at the RPS

 


Sign up to my new series of talks on the History and Theory of Photography. Starts in September and it's perfect if you want an introduction to photographic theory or a dip back into some of the images and ideas that have shaped photographic history. 



Are you looking to develop your own practice? Do you want to understand what photography is or can be? This 8-week course will introduce you to the contemporary practice of photography through examples that link the historical, the contemporary, and the theoretical in a way that is dynamic, visual, and accessible to everybody.

Touching on major photographic genres such as landscape photography, portraiture, and conflict, it will look at some of the key photographers and ideas that have shaped how we see the world today and will also present a global, pluralist outlook on both the wonderful expressive and artistic qualities of the photographic image, as well as its darker side.

The lecture series is the first of three standalone eight-week courses. The first will look at the origins of key photographic genres, where they came from, how they affect the images we make and see today, and how those genres are influenced by different global theories and practices.

The second will look at how social and cultural change in the post-war era influenced photographic practice around the world, and the third will look at specific areas of interest within photography, from representation of the body to the family album and how these ideas can be communicated through different global photographic media.

This series of lectures is ideal for anybody who wants to learn how images are made and understood. It will enrich your understanding of the multiple ways in which images can be read, and will also add layers to how you make images and how you communicate those images to a broader audience. If you have never studied photography, these lectures will give you a fast track introduction to the history of photography and its theory. And if you have studied photography, it will refresh old  ideas and present new possibilities that will refresh your understanding of what photography is and what it can be.


Sign up here.


Africa in the Photobook

 


I'm looking forward to running another series of lectures at the RPS on history and theory (more details are here). It's a great course if you're looking for an introduction to photographic history and theory or you've been away from studying and miss it. 


The images are from one of the lectures on the last course on Africa in the Photobook. This is a phenomenal website run by Ben Krewinkel on which there are photobooks that exemplify the power of photography to dominate peoples and influence opinion. 

The first image above is from Africa Occidental and came around the time of the Berlin Conference. It shows a flag on the bank of a river near Mozambique. It was pictures like this that helped determine the border of present-day Mozambique. It's the hinterland doctrine -  if you planted your flag, you had a claim. And there's the photograph to prove it. That is the basic way photography works and that's what you see over and over in the books Krewinkel presented.






The one above show early African elites. This example is form a time when Europeans needed people who spoke the language and had influence over local people, at a time before they had full influence over the colonised country. 

As soon as the colonisers had more complete control, this form of representation ended - until African nations gained independence and the first step of independence photobooks was to show Africans with education, with responsibility, helping themselves. Visibility mattered then, just as it matters now.





This is the heroism of poor white settlers  breaking the land in Angola. It's the heroism of settlement if you like. And the rationale for the need to settle land (that was already settled) comes from the kind of photobook featured below.




This was the anthropological photobook. There was the classification by hair, body type, tribe, whatever suited the colonial narrative to diminish, divide, and conquer. This kind of categorisation by ethnic group tied in with eugenics, with ideas of evolution, with ideas of genetic superiority - and helped justify the heroic settlement seen in the image above. By settling the land, you're saving the land. 





The colonial project had to be sold to European populations, and so books of discovery and adventure were made, of the white man going where no man had gone before. 



But at the same time, there was an emphasis on the brave warrior, this time in Congo. Here the idea is at least partly to justify military presence and action, and to riff off the idea of the necessity of the European civilising influence.



Tagged onto that idea was the idea that ultimately, the European was in the land of the savages. Hence the emphasis on cruel practices such as cannibalism. And if there wasn't any cannibalism and no photographs existed. Well, drawings could do the job just as well as in the image above. 



There were missionary books to show the civilising influence of the christian mission through the classic before and after image. It's the dumbest thing going the before and after picture, but unfortunately it is very simple and very effective. 





And there was more tourism, where modern cityscapes and industries were mixed with semi-ethnographic racist depictions of native life as colourful natives, as a tourist attraction. First they are dangerous warriors, then they are colourful natives (and further afield, that was exactly the process that transformed places like Bali into a paradise island)



There are books of conflict, the above shows pictures of Italian atrocities in the conquest of Libya. But you can see Brits burning villages, or other Europeans using natives from other countries as the final years of land-grabbing and colonisation took place. 




And then as independence gathered pace, unsympathetic reportage begins to show the avowedly racitst nature of white presence in Africa, in South Africa in particular.



Independence photobooks show the capability of the non-European to work in science, in medicine, in education. Visibility matters as mentioned already.



There is celebration as colonial flags come down, and independent flags go up.


And there are new presidents, new nations, and new forms of progress.




Again, in the image above and below, it's black doctors and nurses, a salve to the belittlement by absence of representation of the colonial years when white doctors would be shown saving black babies (and that is still the trope that raises the money in British fund-raising). 



There is still a kind of internalised colonial rule as very few African photographers get mentioned (and you can look at the examples in Africa in the Photobook and see how rarely African photographers are mentioned in some countries).



There are political crossovers, as different visual influences come to play. There are socialist influences with some of these photographers mentioned above trained by Czech photographers.





And then you get (just as you did with the missionary books) before and after pictures. Before colonialism and after colonialism.




There are books dedicated to leaders, some of which verge on the personality cult.


And as photobooks are given out as gifts, there come to be family resemblances between the photobooks made in different countries.




Key tropes develop and are used for multiple ends. So here images of hair are seen as a representation of independence from European beauty standards. 



But at the same time, in other places, how you wore your hair could also be used as a system of control, with hair length or style used to police the behaviour of people (and maybe that should read women).



There were atrocity books.





And in Mozambique, Frelimo trained its soldiers as photographers. The result was there were few images of conflict and the photographers were not named. Who needs a name if everyone is a photographer.



An Africa in the Photobook publication with contributions from African photographers and academics was in the pipeline, but now might be on ice. I do hope it comes along because there was nothing quite as concrete as the example of how photography and its absence can be used to control, influence, and demean.


To see more images from africainthephotobook go here. 


To see the RPS course, go here. 

Monday, 2 August 2021

Viet Thanh Nguyen and Lee Child

 

I read a couple of book on our short holiday on a Welsh Campsite. 

One was The Committed by Viet Thanh Nguyen. The other was Nothing to Lose by Lee Child

Both featured flawed protagonists who had undergone some kind of trauma (determined in the case of Vo Danh from The Committed, undetermined in Jack Reacher's case - maybe because I haven't read enough of Lee Child's  books).

Both have a French parent. 

Both are conflicted about their pasts and the way they weave into national histories - in the case of Vo Danh, it's the history of Vietnam, France, and the USA. In the case of Jack Reacher, it's the case of US involvement in Iraq, Afghanistan, everywhere. Reacher says there hasn't been a worthwhile war since 1945

Vo Danh questions a simplified polarised view of the Vietnam conflict, but is also scathing about French colonial involvement in the country, with long set pieces that focus on the narrowness and hypocrisy of the French mind.

Reacher questions Bush's America and the evangelical right. He is scathing about that side of the USA

Both protagonists are kind to women at some point. 

Both protagonists have strong pain thresholds. Both books have a big violent ending.

Nguyen quotes Fanon, Cesaire, de Beauvoir and Sartre. Child quotes Dick Cheney, and Revelations

Both end in bloodshed. The protagonist gets out in both cases. I'm not sure which one has the more absurd plot, or whether that matters.

The differences? Jack Reacher's pretty sure of himself, Vo Danh categorically isn't. One book is literary fiction, the other is genre fiction. But there's such a crossover, I wonder if Nguyen hasn't been sneaking up on the bargain shelf at his local charity shop to pick up dog-eared Lee Child books.  And possibly the same goes for Lee Child when he was still writing. They're not that far apart in the big scheme of things. Not much is.


Thursday, 29 July 2021

The great pictures of Ernest Hemingway

 



Ernest Hemingway recovering from injuries at the American Red Cross Hospital in Milan, Italy, 1918.


Ernest Hemingway Collection. John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, Boston.


I really enjoyed watching Ken Burns' Hemingway series. It's like watching a man car crash from being a great and visionary writer (the short stories are coming from the library soon... but otherwise no I haven't) to a gaslighting bore of a man wallowing amidst the carcasses of his vomit strewn legend.





Ken Burns interview on Martha Gelhorn


'Yes. I think Martha Gellhorn threatened him fundamentally. His writing begins to decline. He sort of goes into his shell, he doesn’t want to go out. She wants to go out and cover the world, particularly the greatest cataclysm in human history. He’s not so sure, having been through the first world war and having done the Spanish civil war. And so I think he’s terrified of her, maybe emasculated. I think she needed her independence. As she said, she wanted her name back. She thought he could be a partner and he had pitiably no ability to be a partner.'



As he got older, he didn't take kindly to those more talented than him - he ended up flying to Europe to cover the Second World War as a journalist, leaving Gelhorn  (who was always going to go, who basically shamed him into going) to take a boat.






One of the most enjoyable features of the series was Ken Burns' use of still images. 


Here's what he said about these still images.


Your films are particularly celebrated for their use of archive photography. What is it about the still image that is rendered powerful in moving pictures?


'My father was an anthropologist and he was also an amateur still photographer. I wanted to become a film-maker and I ended up going to a college where all of my teachers were social documentary, still photographers. And so the still photograph is a kind of DNA of my work. I look at a photograph as if it is the arresting of an alive moment. So as I film it, I want to take that feature film-maker’s sensibility and each photograph is a master shot that has a long shot, a medium shot, a close-up, a tilt, a pan, a reveal detail. In the opening of The Civil War you tilt from an innocent boy’s face down to his waistband stuffed with two revolvers. That spoke a million words.'



So the still image becomes something different. It's lingered on, there is movement (on the screen at least) as different elements are highlighted. That creates a dynamism of reading where one lingers over the separate elements of face, gaze, gesture, body, environment, relationships. 


There's one image at the end where Hemingway has collapsed into his injury-raddled alcoholism and his eyes stare out, a shell of a man. It's an image that runs into the clip of him giving his stilted scripted delivery to a movie camera, the pain of his end rubbing raw on the screen.


It's basic montage, a way of bringing drama out of a still image of everyday life, of combining, repeating, and layering so that the still image stretches out into time. In the documentary everything is considered, and everything matters - and that extends to the still images, and these are then 'altered' through scale and movement in a very quiet kind of Tretyakov photomontage where the cutting and the scaling are gradual and slow and performed through movement of the photographs on the screen. These photographs are so full of content, so naturalistic, and so powerful, there is an elevated drama to them, a drama that is added by the connections made by the photographs' movements across the screen. Eyes, hands, gestures, bodies, emotions are connected through this movement and so these still images look like cinema - really good social realist cinema. 


They made me contrast them with staged  photographs where a similar thing happens, where everything is considered, everything matters, where connections are sought to be made between different elements. But somehow they never look like the images chosen in this kind of documentary - mostly because they are not. They definitively aren't that idea of the 'great photograph' that connects to the time when Hemingway was at his writing heights, and that we (or I) still have moments of romantic yearnings for. These staged images look like staged images that are trying to look like cinema in a way that comes from an idea of cinema that comes from an earlier staged photography.


It makes me wonder what a great picture is and how photographs loop across time and link into different visual and cultural histories and how we read that and intuitively understand it at a really fundamental level without necessarily being consciously aware of it. 


And the more traffic a particular loop receives, the more fatigued we get with a particular idea of what an image is or can be. It's not about being a great image anymore because that very idea is stuck in a distant past, it's about being interesting and engaging, and many other things I'm not quite sure of. But interesting, yes. And the images in Hemingway were interesting, so where am I? I'm not quite sure.






Wednesday, 7 July 2021

Anthony Luvera: "I don't think it's enough just to have good intentions."

I've been a bit slow with the blog to say the least, but more because I've been concerned with lots of evening teaching, talks, classes and so on - including talks with the RPS on the history and theory of photography. I'll be starting another one in September with the RPS, so if you are interested do watch out for updates.

One of these talks was on collaboration by Anthony Luvera. Collaboration is big in Anthony's practice, as is the idea of participation. What I really like about him is how everything posed as more of a question, as something to consider, as a thought - rather as some kind of commandment written in stone.  (Here's to the coming global backlash against the tyranny of Ibrahimical thinking. I'm keeping my fingers crossed)

That matters for people like me who like some distinctly uncollaborative work that relies on the grand spectacle of photography. I love the grand spectacle of photography, the visual statement that ties in to even grander biblical and archetypal narratives in which the individual is subsumed into some photographic Cecil B. de Mille epic of strain, effort, and suffering. That is at least some of the point of photography. 

But another point of photography is to be better at it, to slow down, step back and think about how it operates in history, in archives, in museum, in public consciousness. And it doesn't take much slowing down to get thinking. 

In his talk, Anthony pointed the way. It's important because it can make you tell better stories, it can make you go beneath the surface, and, most importantly, it can make you a better person. 

It can also make you bullshit-detect when people use the word collaborative for projects which really, really aren't. Oh they so aren't...

So there. The first question posed by Anthony was...


''What is collaboration?

Who is it for?

 -  The people taking part?

 -  The artist?

 -  The organisation commissioning the work?

Is the artist seducing the participant for the purpose of the work. 

Is the collaboration empowering, giving voice, giving confidence

What part do good intentions play?

Whose voice is being amplified ? How does the artist profit? How can the outcome be measured or described?

What is the intention of the artist? How does context affect understanding?"

That's what he asked. Then he went on to state... 

"I do not undertake the work to enrich the participants - though my work has been framed in that way by organisations.

It's not about what is in the image - it is about what happens to the image?

When work is disseminated publicly, outside the group, it must be seen as a representation of identity, not a link to reality. 

Good intentions can mask the inequalities between the artist and the participant. 

There is an unachievable ideal. That ideal is to put power into the hands of the powerless.

You cannot underestimate the importance of real feedback." 

 So there are some ideas to wrestle with as we try to justify the pictures we make. Or perhaps we don't need to wrestle with them, just consider them. They are not oppositional polarities. Very little is and perhaps that non-polarised consideration takes us to a more considered, constructive, happy place.


In his own work, Luvera looked at how historically the representation of lbgtq+ has been essentially negative and regularly portrayed through reductive stereotypes

His project, Not going shopping, looked at how people use photography, how they experience their identity and how that identity is represented, in particular how that representation is ignored in museums and archives. The question then becomes how can that representation be embedded in museums and archives, how can it become a part of broader visual memory banks. 

This project looked at the politics of pride, the politics of speaking out, the politics of song, the idea of  of identity and photographs in the photobooth - the idea of space and the closet like nature of the photobooth.

All of this linked to anthropological and identity formation in historical images - the exoticisation through photography and how that can be questioned and redirected. And ultimately the work got bought by the city  museum - so feeding back into early visits on how queer people were represented and not represented. And that is supremely neat tie back.





Queers read this pamphlet 

AN ARMY OF LOVERS CANNOT LOSE

   Being queer is not about a right to privacy; it is about
the freedom to be public, to just be who we are.  It means
everyday fighting oppression; homophobia, racism, misogyny,
the bigotry of religious hypocrites and our own self-hatred.
(We have been carefully taught to hate ourselves.)  And now
of course it means fighting a virus as well, and all those
homo-haters who are using AIDS to wipe us off the face of
the earth.  Being queer means leading a different sort of

                                                            2


life.  It's not about the mainstream, profit-margins,
patriotism, patriarchy or being assimilated. It's not about
executive directors, privilege and elitism.  It's about
being on the margins, defining ourselves; it's about gender-
fuck and secrets, what's beneath the belt and deep inside
the heart; it's about the night.  Being queer is "grass
roots" because we know that everyone of us, every body,
every cunt, every heart and ass and dick is a world of
pleasure waiting to be explored.  Everyone of us is a world
of infinite possibility. We are an army because we have to
be.  We are an army because we are so powerful.  (We have so
much to fight for; we are the most precious of endangered
species.)  And we are an army of lovers because it is we who
know what love is.  Desire and lust, too.  We invented them.
We come out of the closet, face the rejection of society,
face firing squads, just to love each other! Every time we
fuck, we win.  We must fight for ourselves (no one else is
going to do it) and if in that process we bring greater
freedom to the world at large then great.  (We've given so
much to that world:  democracy, all the arts, the concepts
of love, philosophy and the soul, to name just a few gifts
from our ancient Greek Dykes, Fags.)  Let's make every space
a Lesbian and Gay space. Every street a part of our sexual
geography. A city of yearning and then total satisfaction.
A city and a country where we can be safe and free and more.
We must look at our lives and see what's best in them, see
what is queer and what is straight and let that straight
chaff fall away!  Remember there is so, so little time.  And
I want to be a lover of each and every one of you.  Next
year, we march naked.


Wednesday, 16 June 2021

How to start a project by Nicholas Polli

 


I'm enjoying writing reviews of self-published books for Source Magazine. The latest set included Nicholas Polli's When Strawberries Grow on Trees, I Will Kiss U - which might just be my favourite lockdown projects. 

Anyway, it's got this great bit of text at the back that details how the project started.


‘One day a girl texted me. “Hey, how are you? What are you doing?”

What was I doing??? Could I ever text back? “Nothing. I feel like shit and I am lying naked on the bed while eating some pasta with tomato sauce, which stained the bed sheets too, but who cares… and right now I was simply here, doing nothing.”

No, that could not be the answer, and so I said. “Nothing much. I am taking some photographs for personal project…”

“Oh, cool. I want to see them then!”

Shit. At that point, I had to do it… I gathered some things, arranged them somehow, and took a picture. I put it on the computer and sent them to her.’


I kind of love that and the idea that things just happen by accident, that not everything is carefully calculated, scheduled, and timetabled. That sometimes, just sometimes, chaos rules, and something vibrant and funny and with soul can emerge from the well of isolation and loneliness and anxiety. 

Which means a thousand more people will be using this as a foundation for their own ill-thought out, half-assed narcissistic projects on absolutely nothing. Please don't. It works here because the self-obsession fits the occasion, indeed is determined by the occasion. 

Monday, 29 March 2021

Jamie Dormer-Durling: Mary Anning, Coprolites, and Social Media


[1.jpg] - Detail of Painting of Mary Anning, credited to ‘Mr Grey’, Library at Natural History Museum, London, Photographed 2015

 

You may have heard of Mary Anning through the film Ammonite (if you liked Dig you will like Ammonite. If you didn't...) that has just been released. She's on the new 50p piece in the UK as well.. Anning is the paleontologist who discovered many prehistoric creatures through her fossil hunting, who had her achievements stolen by the men who bought her fossils (she wasn't a rich woman). 

 and Snakestones is a photobook by Jamie Dormer-Durling that looks at the history of Anning, at her paleontology, at her life. I especially love the images of the marks made by her tools, a visual record of the traces left behind by her life. 

Pre-order the book here. 


When did you get interested in Mary Anning and why?

 

I first found out who she was in spring 2014 when I was at Lyme Regis for a day out. I was walking on the beach and saw a big group of people all looking at the floor which made me curious. I spoke to some of the people who told me they were on a fossil walk and pointed me towards the group leader.  I started asking a few questions and he mentioned Mary Anning - a name I hadn't heard before - and told me a little bit about her prolific fossil finding and the significance of some of her discoveries. He then also told me about her being written out of history and the lack of recognition that she got because she was a woman and very poor.

 

Prior to this I had been working very loosely with an idea which started when I was taking photographs in the museums in Bristol and Cardiff. I was interested in looking at the links between the creation, control and dissemination of knowledge through state and cultural institutions and the resulting narratives that give meaning to our lives. So this story immediately appealed. Initially I thought I could work this into that project, but quickly learnt it was too big and ultimately a different work.


Before I got to look at the letters, notebooks and correspondence in her own hand I looked at where else she turned up in other written histories. Some of these contained these wonderfully fantastical stories.  In a book by G Roberts about the history of Lyme Regis, written in 1823 when she was arguably at her most prolific, there is an account of her surviving a lightning strike as a baby.  

 

‘Mary was taken by her nurse, Aug 19, 1800, to the rack field, where some equestrians were to perform… The weather was intensely hot and sultry; the clouds seemed to indicate the approach of a thunder-storm… At about a quarter to five, P.M., a passing cloud discharged a heavy shower, which caused those assembled to effect a hasty retreat… [some] went home; but the less prudent sought shelter under cover of some lofty elms that stood in the field. A vivid discharge of the electric fluid shortly ensued, followed by the most awful clap of thunder that any present ever remembered to have heard.  After a momentary pause, a man gave the alarm, by pointing to a group that lay motionless under a tree.  All grown persons were dead: the infant, Mary Anning, upon being put into warm water, revived: she had sustained no injury... She had been a dull child before, but after this accident became lively and intelligent, and grew up so.’

 

What’s not to get excited about with stories like this!? There are others too, and initially this project was me chasing these mythologies around and trying to make sense of them photographically. That is until I started reading her notebooks and letters and realised that the real and far more important story was about her labour, her struggle and her determination to understand the world around her.

 

 

What are the key things about her work that interested you?

 

So many things. First of all the fossils, and having an excuse to be around these relics of deep time. Being able to handle some of these specimens was like making contact with another world and an utter privilege.

 I love that she was right about so many things that her education on the beach gave her, like the links between certain species and the realisation that ‘coprolites’ were fossilised faeces (she was mocked for that).

 

Oxford3 = ‘Detail of Ichthyosaurus communis, showing coprolites in the ribcage, collected 1835, Oxford University Museum of Natural History’

 

I was fascinated by the way that she described the things she found and the sales patois she developed when writing to the museums and collectors, and her taking on of the establishment that exploited her ‘I do so enjoy opposition amongst the big wigs’

 

But I think the key draw here was the unravelling of all of the injustices that she suffered in the face of her relentless hard work.

 

How much do you think the issues of class and gender that stopped her being fully recognised are still relevant today?


She learnt to look for fossils with her dad who used to find ‘curies’ to sell to tourists that visited the area. He was a religious dissenter and, it would seem, pretty politically driven, often involved in strikes and protest. In 1800 he was identified as one of the ringleaders of a mob which rioted about food shortages.

 

You only have to look at the queuing we still have at food banks, which are much like the charitable causes her family leant on, to know that not much has changed.

 

There is a visible difference in how poverty looks in this country today, as it is possible to be broke and reliant on food banks yet have a 50-inch plasma TV on the wall and an expensive mobile phone. These things are made possible by the illusion of credit which allows people with no income goods which they pay for at thousands of percent above the production cost and which ‘holds’ them in a permanent state of debt to the system that defines their class.

 

I know this, I have experienced it myself growing up.

 

This masks the reality of modern poverty, and is useful evidence for those that are ideologically opposed to social equality to point their fingers at to try and maintain the status quo.

 

I’d say that the wealth gap in the UK today is as great if not greater than it was in Mary Anning’s day, given the lack of access many have to the basics of life. Can you imagine the carnage if it weren’t for the NHS and access to free medicine?  It’d be a Boschian-nightmare, and the cogs are whirring on the dismantling of what remains of the benevolent state.

 

In terms of issues of class and gender being related specifically to this field, there is a bit of a legacy. I think that there is a great deal more gender equality within the scientific communities themselves, but the structures of society are still geared up to make clear definitions between the genders with things like career choices.

 

Whilst making this project I have worked with many scientists and curators in the various museums, but I have also worked with the contemporary fossil hunters, those doing what Mary Anning did.

 

One guy I’ve spent a couple of afternoons fossiling with, Paul Crossley, is kind of representative of the legacy of the problems Anning faced. He’s been working the beach for years, been fossil hunting since he was five and has made some remarkable discoveries – such as the first known iridescent coprolite from a squid and a new species of lace wing beetle – both are now in the collections of museums.

 

He told me that if you donate a new specimen to a museum, you can name it – but if you sell it to them, they also acquire the rights to naming.  This is almost set up to deny a recorded legacy to anyone that is reliant on the income that fossil hunting provides.

 

Paul’s story also echoes some of the opposition I’ve met when referring to Anning as a palaeontologist and scientific thinker, which still causes some debate.  I’m not sure I’ve met many people as knowledgeable in their field as Paul is in his – for example, he anticipated the existence of the iridescent coprolite he discovered, and then went and found the first one! If that’s not scientific thinking, I don’t know what is. Yet he is still coy about referring to himself as a palaeontologist because he hasn’t been through university and also works a ‘normal’ job.

 

There are many images of markings in your book? Why are these important?

 

I think for me it was a way into the story proper. When I started this project there were just a few signs of interest in her outside of the worlds of science. Many stories have appeared since, but they are largely biographical.  The physical marks she left us were interesting to me because they refer directly to her activity. The looking, the working the stone with her tools, the cleaning…

 




[5.jpg] - Detail of SM J.35189, Icthyosaurus platydon, collection date unknown, Sedgwick Museum of Earth Sciences, Cambridge, Photographed 2017

 

 

These marks reveal. They reveal the specimens buried in mud and stone, but they also reveal the processes she went through in creating new knowledge which shapes and gives meaning to our lives.

 

Her letters and drawings feature heavily in the book too but as much as the content of these are significant, I was also interested in the way she wrote – both her use of language and the physical markings. She didn’t have a schooling, and this is reflected in the spelling and grammar, but the way that she describes, and her sales talk is fascinating, as is the often overly elaborate handwriting. One of the first photographs in the book is of the postage side of a letter to Charles Konig, one of the ‘big wigs’ at The British Museum. Her calligraphic hand on this letter is fascinating and I’m still not sure if she was trying to fit in or taking the piss. Either way I love her for it.

 




[6.jpg] - Detail of Letter from Mary Anning to Charles Konig, concerning the sale of a Pterodactyle , 1829, Natural History Museum Archives, London, Photographed 2018

 

It is all of these markings that bring us back to the thing that is most important; her labour and her thought.

 

Why do you think there is an upsurge in interest in her work now (with the film and 50p piece)?

 

I see her popping up all the time at the minute because there are many movements and ideas that her story fits with. But I think there is a danger perhaps of generalising and shoehorning her into too many contemporary narratives. She is a hero, and I don't think there's much getting around that. The things that she endured, the relentlessness of her labour ostensibly to put food on the table, and the dignified way she took on the establishment.

 

So many people in society are never recognised for their hard work and are still fighting the establishment. The 1% payrise for NHS workers for example, against the 40% for Cummings or the massive handouts to chums in business to spaff up the wall for a few facemasks and an app that doesn’t work. We need heroes, and she is one.

 

Then we have the Trump/Johnson/Putin/Xi/Bolsanaro/Kim posturing of the past decade, so we have an urgent need for strong women to give a bit of steer away from this hellish man-made disaster we are experiencing. The real problem is that the establishment concedes to these positive and progressive narratives through its PR machines to appear a certain way but continues to legislate and organise in favour of a traditional white patriarchy.

 

Anning has become a role model for young children now that she appears in the national curriculum, but I think we have to be careful about the motivations of the state here. Often movements or ideas that are seen as dangerous are just absorbed into the structures of society where they can do least damage. Jonny Rotten sells butter now, let’s not forget.  Her rebellious spirt, revealed in her writings, must prevail and we mustn’t let the curriculum soften her. She was tough, and I doubt if she would have sold out, so it would be a disservice to her legacy to do that for her.

 

You're doing a kickstarter but you're a reluctant social media person. How does that fit?

 

Well, I'm not sure but I'm hoping it will. I've always had a low-level anxiety around the idea of selling myself and trying to persuade people to be interested in my work. Social media is still a little alien to me. I mean, I get it and prior to the book I used it occasionally. But I couldn’t tell you how Instagram TV works. Struggle getting my head around ‘stories’…

 

I am slightly hamstrung when it comes to promoting my book as my problematic relationship with social media means I have no following, and no one beyond my students knows who I am.  So, I am very much dependent on other people showing an interest in it, sharing it and feeling it's interesting enough to buy or talk about.

 

I'm fully aware that this is part of the job and that if I don't yell out into the crowd and hope that people are interested that the alternative is just never being heard, but these anxieties went into overdrive when it came to trying to promote work about a person who was denied any recognition for far greater effort than I have made.

 

When I exhibited this as a work in progress three years ago at Lyme Regis Museum I struggled to even put my name on the exhibition. The museum is built on the site of Mary Anning's former home, so for me it had to be the first place that the work was shown.  After travelling around the country photographing the fossils in the museums in which they now sit there was something poetic about being able to bring them back to her home.

 

 However, I had a bit of a crisis when it came to putting my name on the wall.  She had risked her life on a daily basis going out and finding these things, spent months digging them out and cleaning them and preparing them for sale and was never recognised. Then along comes privileged 21st century lad who makes a few photographs and has the temerity to put his name on her bedroom wall! 

 

Of course, I have come to place now where I am comfortable with the work, and that it has a function and a purpose, and that my voice in amongst all the others has something worth saying.

 

 

Why should people buy your book?

 

My feeling is that we should be publishing accounts of hidden or unknown histories – even if Mary Anning’s story is now largely understood to have been incorrectly recorded first time around it doesn’t hurt to be reminded of the foul play by the establishment.

 

Of course, any account that is made is just another positioned expression in amongst many others.

 

Francis Lee’s film ‘Ammonite’ which comes out later this week is going to be interesting. It is certainly the loudest shout about her name the world has ever heard, and it’s great that she is now being given the attention she deserves. 

 

Many people have a problem with the film, which essentially uses Mary Anning’s new-found fame as a vehicle to tell a period love story between two historical women. Lee said in an interview that there are many examples of queer history being straightened, and that he is just queering a history for which there is no permissible evidence of any heterosexual relationships.

 

There is a letter included in my book from Anning to Charlotte Murchison (her love interest in the film) which could be interpreted as revealing a little more than a friendship, and I’m sure that Francis Lee also read this and has taken a little licence with it.  At times perhaps I've taken a few liberties with the information presented to me in my determination to prove that she was a scientific thinker and not just a collector, but of course any work is as much about the conclusions arrived at by the author.

 

The film looks great and I’m looking forward to seeing it.  I’m delighted that Lee has used Anning to start different conversations around gender and sexuality.  Though I’m told that ‘Ammonite’ doesn’t really explore her science, nor celebrate her breakthrough moments and this is why you should buy my book!

Order the Book  Here: Mary Anning - Dragons and Snakestones








‘Detail of R.2003, Temnodontosaurus platydon, collected 1832, Natural History Museum, London’


It's bloody huge that one about the length of two cars… the things that look like finger prints are fossilised scales. Focused on these marks in nhm8 as she would have noticed them.    

 






 


DSCF2263 = Detail of R1034, Dimorphodon macronyx, Collected 1828, Natural History Museum, London, 

 

This is the first pterodactyl found in the UK. The only other one in the world at the time she discovered this was in Germany. The photograph bothers me as it’s the only digital image in the book and it feels different… The guy at NHM wouldn’t let me set the 5x4 up over the top of it, nor would he let me stand the fossil up, so had no choice but to make a digital pic. It shows some lovely marks set into the concrete though including what look like two arrows pointing at something. Perhaps this was for her reference. The guy that was helping me didn’t know.