Frances's Kitchen

Went to shoot my final kitchen today, one that I'd thought wouldn't be up to much, only to find that it's my best shoot of the whole project (I think so anyway, will have to see what the group and Richard/John think). This is the kitchen of my friends mother-in-law. Whilst I was shooting, Frances, whose kitchen it is, was ill in bed upstairs. I have met her in the past and she is a lovely lady, but it still felt strange and a bit intrusive to be photographing around downstairs when she was upstairs, even though my friend was with me. If I'd been all alone, I could have stayed there for hours, as it was I tried to be as quick as I could to get out of people's hair.

Practical Matters

Am now in the thick of printing out some of my work and beginning to think about what I want in the exhibition.
My Terrace - kitchens consists of exactly ten shots and I think I'd like to put them close together and fairly small, looking at IKEA's frames, they have some that would be really suitable (so do Heals but they cost four times as much as IKEA's!)I've pasted one of the frames above and two of these placed side by side would take all ten kitchens. The frame dimensions are 30 x 88 cm.

I would then like to do three or four 50 x 50 cm with my hasselblad shots of Margaret's kitchen. Before I consider this however, I'll have to speak to Richard and/or John and show them the trannies I'm thinking of having printed. I suppose to some extent I've been influenced by the Marjolaine Ryley exhibition and I like the idea of big square prints from a medium format camera. Will discuss with Richard, can't paste the photographs in question on this blog yet as they are with the printer - just having test prints done (8x8") - collecting them tomorrow. Will post them over the weekend.

Margaret's Kitchen - the hasselblad shots

Just got back some of the hasselblad shots of Magaret's kitchen and there are one or two I want to see printed so have dropped them with a local printer to do me 3 8x8 shots. Depending on how they look, I might think of including them in the exhibition (printed larger) although one of them would have to be called "Beyond the kitchen" as it's a view down the corridor with the edge of the kitchen just visible. This would mean that I print much smaller versions of the My Terrace Kitchens so needs thinking about - depends on what they look like. Would need to discuss with Richard and John.

Marjolaine Ryley - Impressions Gallery

Went to the Impressions Gallery in Bradford yesterday and saw an exhibition, "Residence Astral" by Marjolaine Ryley. I really liked it and certainly idenified with her subject matter - domestic details.
From the exhibition flyer: Over the last twelve years Marjolaine Ryley has been photographing her grandmother’s apartment in Brussels, the setting for many family get-togethers. Her images explore the mixed feelings that many of us have towards the family home, such as comfort and claustrophobia..”
Ryley speaks about her work being concerned with the unreliability of memory and with a sense of loss. I certainly concur with the memory bit, not exlusively the unreliability of it but something akin to TS Eliots line - “mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain..”Take the curtain shot above. Really simple, but by giving us those curtains to contemplate, for me, the curtains take on, if it were possible, a sort of “self possession”, they are no longer inanimate – they are holding back the sun, they are stirring in the breeze, they are making patterns on the floor – the “are”. The other side of the photograph arises from knowing the context – a shot from one of Ryley’s relatives homes. Someone chose those curtains, liked the colour, hung them, looks after them, enjoys them.... who is she?
A simple photo that gives the viewer plenty to think about. Indeed, there isn’t one of Ryley’s photographs that doesn’t fascinate me. I find it magnetic and resonant. It has also given me the bud of an idea for a project I might like to pursue in the future.

Earlier Work - foundations of my fip

Whilst I'm thinking about how I came to be so interested in the domestic setting in all its guises, I remember that although I referred to some of my previous work in this area, I haven't posted any photographs, so here are some.

Cinematic Influences

Whilst Gregory Crewdson's images are full of narrative and cinematic lighting, some film directors are moving towards "stills" in their movies.
By this I mean that the function of a lingering camera shot on a detail which doesn't directly contribute to the narrative of the film, gives it some of the qualities of a still. For instance, in one of my favourite films, Junebug, there are several of these pause for thought camera shots: one shot zooms into the wind rustling through a tree in the suburban garden of the family (reminiscent of similar shot in Antonioni's Blow Up)which puts you standing right there in the drive - it's the kind of detail you notice in real life but don't expect directors to have time to put in because they are busy with pace and plot. The other memorable lingering shot is of the family's empty dining room when everyone is out of the house. This is the image I have had in mind for some time in relation to my own project - empty interiors which still suggest the lingering presence of the occupier(s). This is the somewhat intangible effect I hope to suggest in my empty kitchens.

Someone has described the pauses in Junebug more eloquently than I and I'm posting a cut of the review -
Empty rooms punctuate Junebug (2005, Phil Morrison). Madelaine’s empty gallery after an auction, the strangely lifeless dining room in the Johnsten’s home, the Johnsten’s kitchen after a storm of words, the front lawn, green and well-watered. These empty rooms are presented just as they are, in longish single shots, from a fixed camera position. A shot of the Johnsten’s dining room shows a gleaming table and a bit of a sideboard. The room is too neat, the few knick knacks placed awkwardly. Although the room is not cluttered, it is claustrophobic, and Peg’s controlling presence seems to suck any warmth out of the room - even the sun struggles to get through the sheer curtain

There is another film I saw recently, Tokyo Story which again isn't about anything dramatic or hollywoody but is gentle, very slow, very realistic, one might even say "mundane" which again links in with the subject of my project but which doesn't preclude being called drama - small human dramas are played out everyday - people dying, people's relationships drifting apart, people losing heart, people being discouraged and often we don't notice. To have films made about these instances explores what it is to be human. Again, here is a quote about the film (made in 1953)which sums up well the enjoyable slowness of it all:
Like all of Ozu's sound films, Tokyo Story is not melodramatic or structured around Hollywood plot points; its pacing is slow (or, as David Bordwell prefers to describe it, "calm"). Important events are often not shown on screen, only being revealed later through dialogue; for example, Ozu does not depict the mother and father's journey to Tokyo at all.

I feel this links to my project because of the "quietness" of the subject - nothing wow or exciting, but something about truth and real life.

Progress Check (2)

I have been reviewing my project and have focussed on a few things I need to do this week. I'm making a nice, concise list for myself to encourage me to work through it systematically.

1. Another Shoot - My project, as far as "my terrace" goes, is complete but I haven't stopped shooting to try to capture more kitchens. This week I'm down to visit a friend of a friend in Salford to shoot her kitchen.

2. Display options & Artist's Statement - need to think carefully about this and possibly consult other artists. I have got hold of some mountboard, just in case I decide to frame conventionally and I've got spare inks in for my A3 printer as I'll need to print my own images to hand in for the assignment generally. I need to think about the text that will accompany my images, as discussed earlier in the blog it's crucial to explain the project well and in a way that will "get people on board".

3. More research - there is an exhibition in Bradford at the Image Gallery - Bob (Blackburn Project - see link) told me about it and it appears very relevant to my work. I have a photography job to do in Bradford on Tuesday so will call in the gallery on my way back. Also saw a film last night "The Savages" and lots of the lingering shots on highways or incidental domestic details reminded me of Stephen Shore. I refer to him in my disseration and realise I have really looked at him in detail after mentioning him as an influence at the start of the blog. Same with Martin Parr and others so there's some desk work to be done here. Also under research, I probably need to mention some of the films that feed into my interest in the more subtle and mundane shots that arise from domestic interiors. (loaded with resonance, personal memories, pathos, - June Bug, The Return, et al.

Off for a bike ride whilst the weather is okay - will get on with the above whilst forecast rain falls!

Am posting this picture I took a couple of days ago - not a kitchen but a cafe with the reflection of a Quay in the window. I like the domestic details though - picture, decorative plastic/paper flowers, table decorations, all mixed in with the hull of a yacht - the interior with sky for a ceiling.

How to take "No" for an answer

Yesterday I had one of those experiences where events seemed to be lived in slow motion, and every action/reaction is of critical import. You think I'm exaggerating.

For various reasons, I was in the Fylde yesterday. I don't know it well but am now better acquainted with it and very impressed. I've never been keen on flatness, landscape-wise, but perhaps because of the time of year, the lack of undulation in the land was more than made up for by the general fecundity of the fields and hedgerows and the beautiful, mature trees in full flower. The different shades of green of the fields were sharply defined by the hedges, lime greens, yellow greens, emerald greens, all decorated with weddingy mayblossom. Bliss to be alive.

I know this scene-setting is over the top but I have to convey the general magic of the day. At around 3pm I fell upon a house, modest but fine. It was delapidated and the garden was overgrown and I thought what an atmospheric shot it might make so I began to set up the tripod. As I was doing this, a man in a nice car stopped and enquired whether I was bird watching.
"No, I just like the look of the front of this house."
"You like the look of the front, you should see the inside, it's 'as was', amazing stuff, the kichen in particular is like a time warp, old crockery and cutlery covered in dust, the servants bells still on the wall" etc etc etc
Now fellow photographers will understand the surge of adrenaline I experienced at this point. The idea that the shoot of your dreams is right under your nose, heaven sent as it were. I could hardly get the words out of my mouth as I asked him if he knew who owned it.
'Yes, you see that red brick house on the left, 'she' owns it" He pointed to a house about 400 yards down the country lane.
I told the man the reason for my excitment, ie, that I was doing a photographic project on kitchens and this would be an unbelievable opportunity.
He drove off and I took a couple of quick shots with the digital of the front of the house (one for you to see above). Then I dashed back to the place I was visiting, dragged a comb through my hair, flashed some lipstick at my lips, grabbed my student card and a business card from my handbag and set off to that great citadel, The Red Brick House.

I know it sounds cliched but it's true, I opened a squeaky wrought iron gate and walked up the overgrown garden path to the last frontier, the front door. The house was a large one and there were several outbuildings and greenhouses to the side. A farm it was really, I suppose. No one answered the door and I hadn't heard the bell ring. I knocked firmly on the door. Nothing. I walked around the back of the house to see if someone was in the back garden. Nothing. I shouted "Hello" (strange to hear you own voice break the silence on someone's private property). Again, nothing. I got back into my car and as I was using the side entrance to turn around, Lo and Behold, the front door opened.....

A merry, grey haired lady of about 70 trotted down the path smiling at me.
"Did you want me love?"
Needless to say, this light and airy greeting boded well for my quest and I became my pleasantest self (a rare event).

I apologised for troubling her, explained my reasons for calling, produced my student card, smiling all the while only for her to smile in return and say -
"ooh, no love, it's not suitable for photographing really, it's been let go, it's covered in dust, a ruin really, in fact it's due to be demolished.

Needless to say, all this increased, rather than dampened my ardour. I explained to her quite why it was important to record what was there for social historical reasons and how I would give her a full set of prints etc etc etc.

She repeated that "no, it really wasn't suitable"

Now I am known generally for being the opposite of pushy, but in the face of such a prize, I perservered. I tried again. "No".

What more can you do in these situations? she was a really nice lady, I was a really nice lady, but we were destined not to see eye to eye. I felt that a complete retreat was better than any further requests, so thanked her for her time and left, smiling sadly.

I am going to write to her though, just in case she changes her mind in the next few months. Too late for my project but worth a try anyway.

More Kitchens.....

Have enjoyed photographing a couple of kitchens today. Decided to move away from the directly in front of the sink angle - the first kitchen was a pretty one - a country cottage look with lots of stuff on a shelf above, took this on an angle. The second kitchen belonged to a friend of my mum. Because I know her and because she'd said do what you like, I felt at liberty to take some shots around the whole kitchen and I really like the feel of these. I took a roll of Velvia 120F and some digital shots, 2 of the digital shots are posted above here.

Having a think about the final exhibition and haven't settled on what and how yet although I felt sure about it all a few weeks ago. The problem is, I'm not entirely happy with the film I've shot so far - one of the down sides of starting to use a format I'm not familiar with just before I embark on the fip! However, I'm not sorry about that because I feel I'm learning a lot and I love using my Hasselblad, I just have to learn to use it better!

The Side Gallery, Newcastle

Visited the Side Gallery on Friday - Newcastle is such a georgeous city - something I forget until I visit again and I'm reminded.

The Gallery was a bit dissapointing in that I had hoped they'd have some archive material on display but in fact there was just one exhibition and that didn't really relate to my fip. However, there were lots of books, posters and postcards in the shop relating to Sirkka Liisa Kontinen. Her work documenting Byker is one that I particularly admire (see photos above).

In her book "Byker" SLK writes how she was able to gain the trust of the community because she lived amongst them, and further, being a foreigner helped because no one could place her in a particular category because of her accent. She was accepted very quickly which really shows in the work she was able to produce. Quite the reverse of the MO mob in Bolton who were looked upon with suspicion, not least because of their southern accents! I found that when knocking on my neighbours' doors, even if I hadn't seen them before, as soon as I said "I live at number 20" they were okay with me and the project.

Sirkka Liisa is now revisiting Byker for a new documentary work. None of the work was available to view, but the curator said it's planned for publication in 2010.

The Side Gallery has an online collection of over 2000 captioned images and features over 80 bodies of work by more than 40 different photographers. The gallery leaflet says:

"Amber film and photography collective came to the North East of England in 1969 with a commitment to documenting working class communities".

Kitchen Sink Art

The kitchen sink artists I referred to in the previous post were John Bradby, Eward Middleditch, Jack Smith and Derrick Greaves (they were also known as the Beaux Arts Quartet) here's an enlightening little snippet from the Tate's website:

Term (kitchen sink art)originally used as the title of an article by the critic David Sylvester in the December 1954 issue of the journal Encounter. The article discussed the work of the realist artists known as the Beaux Arts Quartet, John Bratby, Derrick Greaves, Edward Middleditch and Jack Smith. Sylvester wrote that their work 'takes us back from the studio to the kitchen' and described their subjects as 'an inventory which includes every kind of food and drink, every utensil and implement, the usual plain furniture and even the babies' nappies on the line. Everything but the kitchen sink? The kitchen sink too.' Sylvester also emphasised that these kitchens were ones 'in which ordinary people cooked ordinary food and doubtless lived their ordinary lives.' The Kitchen Sink painters' celebration of the everyday life of ordinary people carries implications of a social if not political comment and Kitchen Sink art can be seen to belong in the category of Social Realism. Kitchen Sink reached its apogee in 1956 when the Beaux Arts Quartet were selected to represent Britain at the Venice Biennale.

The three pictures I've posted, I really, really like. The first is John Bratby's "Still Life with Chip Frier" (1954), the second is his "Baby in pram in garden" (1956) and the bottom one is Jack Smith's "Mother Bathing Child" (1953).

Again, this is the sort of work that shows that everything is worthy of being featured in a work of art - just try to think of something that isn't - it's impossible (No, not even that, Gilbert & George have it covered!).

Progress update

I get really anxious when I think about whether I can communicate what I've been talking about in the blog to a "viewer" of the work. I think there is so much potential for making it interesting but it will rely both on the final presentation of the images and (very heavily) on my textual explanation of the work. There's a challenge!

I have now photographed every kitchen sink in my terraced row and am waiting for the films to come back. I sent off 6 on Saturday and am hoping they will arrive today. Meanwhile, I'm continuing to take various kitchens in case the "all in one terrace" idea doesn't work.

Need to read the brief throughly today and see what else I need to explore for this final project. Hopefully, am off to London on Friday to the Geffrye Museum, this is more a visit I planned for my dissertation research but it may still be useful as background for my fip. It's a museum of the domestic interior from about 1600 onwards. I also need to follow this up with looking at some photography which relates to my project, possibly I should make contact with the photographer too. Will trawl the internet to see what photography exhibitions are on in London at the moment.

Spotlight on Everyday, Ordinary Objects

I've been looking at Social Realism and have discovered that in the 1950s there was a group of painters known as the "kitchen-sink artists" - more of that later, I'm on to poetry at the moment and it seems there is a similar trend there for taking the everyday and holding it up for more focussed examination that it might ordinarily merit. The Guardian's Aidan Andrew Dun invited poets & would-be poets to write on everyday objects. The poems are about diverse things - a cigarette, a cup, the backyard, a garden fence, and yes! the kitchen sink. That final poem is here below, I don't like it particularly but one aspect of the kitchen sink to which it draws our attention is one that I want to suggest in my own work - there is some suggestion of the ebb and flow of items through the kitchen process which to me, suggests something of the theatre. When out of action in between meals, especially if they are tidy, the kithen sink is redolent of an empty stage. But when there are people in the kitchen, cups and pans the sink, ashtrays, voices and interactions going on around this central point in the kitchen; then, the characters are on stage with all the props. Looking at a tidy kitchen sink makes me think of what drama might have gone on in front of it's impervious self (the poem touches that imperviousness - "unmoved, unmoving") and also what dramas might be acted out when the characters appear again, very soon.

A grill that lets too many things slip through,
a stopper raised and lowered on command,
holding-pen for dirty plates, stray angel hair,
onion peel, potato that didn't make the cut.
Always there.
Holder of the lipsticked glass and coffeed cup,
the last recourse for burning rice, the half-gnawed bone,
the lettuce leaf, the juiceless lemon wedge.

Our meals are parsed within its gut
in greying suds with time's old gurgle and sluice ...
As water washes through to drain
the earth spins, circling liquid clockwise in its bowels
returning water to its earthly source.

But where hands scrub daily grit from skin
fill up the cup, rinse out the soiled glass,
this oblong trough of our despond
sees excess and carelessness.
And there's its dull sheen, that steel opacity, obstinate walls.
A kitchen sink's no mirror, nor a flatterer,
reflects so little of our inner selves, rejects
as it absorbs our modest shard of light.

Unmoved, unmoving witness of the messy mortal's trend,
so present, yet elusive to the end!

I have linked to the relevent page on the guardian's website, if you want to see more of the poem's you need to scroll down to Aidan Andrew Dun's workshop and click on that.

Ideal Home

Whilst researching for my dissertation, "Photography: Morality and the Domestic Interior", John Harrison recommended I take a look at John R J Taylor's "Ideal Home". This is probably the photographer who most directly influenced my Final Integrated Project.

The Book is full of photos of an ordinary home, albeit a super-tidy, super-clean home. The photos were taken in the 1980s and the home belongs to the photographer's sister. A few years after the photos were taken, Charles Newton (then at V&A) visited the photographer's sister and went through the photos with her, taping her comments. She is obviously not on the same wavelength as her bro, stating at one stage "John's daft.... I just don't understand his reasons sometimes".

The photographs are quiet observations of all corners of the house. Very ordinary, mundane in fact. Strangely I find them quite compelling. I love their simplicity, the photographer silently conveys a message - "Look at this, it is worthy of being photographed, think about it." As Charles Newton puts it "It is a rare invitation to reconsider what was normally taken for granted and think again about what all of it means, and why, particularly, it looks like it does." Another very important points he makes about the work is this "there is a whole textbook of sociology to be written, and read, but if you can read the photograph, it is not necessary. There used to be a hierarchy of images, so that there were things considered to be worthy (or unworthy) of being photographed. Yet objects gain a new aura merely because they are selected and isolated, and looked at again with new eyes.".

Progress Check (1)

I have shot 4 more kitchens in my terraced row since Tuesday. Up to now, I have seen only the digital test shots which are obviously landscape in format. I generally crop them square and they lose something because of this - usually bits and pieces on windowsills. This makes me wonder if I will like the film format. I know there will be more in shot above the sink and maybe this will give the shots more allure. I'm sending 5 films off together this evening.

On Tuesday in college, I was speaking to Richard & John about presentation. They felt my suggestion was okay - a grid format for the pictures with small amounts of text about each shoot in a small scale replica grid next to it. Richard suggested maybe comments about who lived there etc, but since this wasn't part of the bargain when I asked people if I could shoot their kitchen, I'll can't follow that one up. However, where there is some history attached to the properties which doesn't relate to present owners, I feel okay with sticking that in the grid.

I intend to look at the genre of "kitchen-sink" culture to link this to my interest in the photography of the mundane. Kitchen sink dramas seem to revolve around real life problems, mostly of working class people (not exclusively - I think Bouquet of Barbed wire touches on the kitchen sink genre and those characters were middle class) but I need to look into this genre more systematically. Will do so and post later.