Tag Archives: Café Royal Books

Talking Picture no. 27: Peter Tatham by Daniel Meadows

A vertigo inducing movie from Daniel Meadows in Rochdale this week, and the book I will publish this Thursday matches it. Steeplejack 1976.

Talking Picture no. 27: Peter Tatham by Daniel Meadows

05_steeplejack_thumbnail

I have been working on a new Café Royal site to try and combine the blog, archive and recent publications rather than have them in different places. So, here is the new site. I’ll be adding to the archive over time and for the next few weeks I’ll continue the blog here, but please start to follow the new blog,

http://www.caferoyalbooks.com/blog/

 

Advertisements

Peter Dench — Trawlermen

In 1998, Photojournalist Peter Dench spent five days onboard The Allegiance, a 60 foot UK Scarborough-based trawler, fishing the North Sea, with a crew of five.  The future has since become extremely bleak for the English Trawlermen; huge areas of the North Sea have been declared ‘off limits’ and fishing quotas have been slashed in an attempt to rescue dwindling North Sea stocks from the point of extinction. These measures have jeopardised the jobs of those in the industry and put dependent towns, like Scarborough, on the brink of ruin. Dench returned to The Allegiance in 2005 to be reunited with the crew and to find out how the decline of the North Sea fishing industry has affected their lives.

“Being a Trawlermen is  tough; you spend weeks at sea and the income is unpredictable. Sleep is sporadic and the small bunks lie under the water line jammed next to the engine room. A metal box alone on the sea can deliver a feeling of vulnerability; in terms of fatalities, it’s the most dangerous job in the Britain.” Peter Dench

“Going to sea is like going to prison, with a chance at drowning besides” Samuel Johnson

Trawlermen was published today by Café Royal Books.

Please support Peter’s Kickstarter campaign which will allow him to publish a recent project, The British Abroad.

Daniel Meadows

Those of you who have been following this new site so far, and those who find it in the future, will see that I’ve been posting movies by Daniel Meadows each week, as they’re released. Each offers a window into his archive which is now held at the Library of Birmingham.

During the first half of 2015 I’m publishing eight books and a limited edition box set. Each book is the subject of one of Daniel’s movies and the box set contains the eight corresponding movies on DVD, as well as the books. The 40 movies are being released now, over 40 weeks to celebrate the 40th year since The Free Photographic Omnibus project which Daniel began in 1972.

I asked Daniel whether he could write a short backstory for this blog; I’m always interested in ‘why’ and ‘how’ people do what they do. Daniel has also written a short text to accompany each of the eight movies and the eight books we’ll be releasing this year, the first of which was January and the next being this Thursday, February 19th 2015.

I’m sure you’ll enjoy Daniel’s writing below. Please visit and subscribe to his movies on his Vimeo page. Please also revisit this post, where I will add images and links to the ‘new’ movies as they become available.

 

Beginnings

Here’s how I remember why I became a documentary photographer.

It was the summer of 1970, I was eighteen years old and in my final year at a west country boarding school. It was a mean-spirited place and my five years there had been grim, degrading even. With so many petty cruelties handed down each day, I’d learned only about the compliance of fear.

With just weeks to go before my release and sure only of what I did not know, I was fizzing. With rage, yes, but also with an insatiable curiosity to know about people whose lives were other than my own. I knew no one working class, no one black or brown, and – outside of my own family – no women.

There’s a documentary from 1969, Beautiful, Beautiful a BBC Omnibus programme. I looked it out recently, an old VHS. It shows photographer Bruce Davidson working in Harlem. “People have an innate dignity,” he says. “They will set themselves before the camera in a dignified way. And they will choose what they will give.” Undoubtedly that film set something playing in my head.

Then, in May 1970, I went to see Bill Brandt’s retrospective at the Hayward Gallery in London. Brandt, it hit me, was using his camera as a passport to let him slip, effortlessly it seemed, between the social classes. How I envied him.

For me, going to Manchester that autumn was not just a journey from south to north, it was a removal, out of my own class (good riddance) and into other people’s. And there it was, in All Saints, in the photography school on the third floor of a tower block in the newly created polytechnic, that I began to learn how I too might slip between the classes. With dignity.

And I’m still learning.

These Café Royal Editions

In my subsequent photographic career one piece of work in particular, done in 1973-74 aboard the Free Photographic Omnibus, has become well-known. This is largely because of the enthusiasm and energy of writer and curator Val Williams who has long championed the street portraits I made during that time both in exhibitions and in books[1]. However, what is not widely understood is that the “bus portraits”, as they have become known, were made as part of a much more comprehensive documentary adventure, something that includes audio recordings, works of photo-reportage, digital stories and short movies; and that it’s an adventure which continues to this day.

In 1975, in the last paragraph of my first book Living Like This, I wrote the following about my work. “I hope that everyone who reads these stories will be able to enjoy a snatch of life as it is lived by someone else. For it is only by appreciating each other’s circumstances that we can hope to improve our world.”[2]

I like that, it’s good. I could write the same today and it would still be good.

In my archive, now housed at the Library of Birmingham, are many picture stories which have nothing to do with the bus and which have never been published or, at least, have been published only in part. Here though, in Café Royal editions, a number are being published whole and for the first time. And that’s exciting. Also, each edition is accompanied by a short movie online, a Talking Picture, in which the voices of those who appear in the photographs can be heard.

 

These are the stories.

Stockport Gypsies and Travellers

http://vimeo.com/65219653

01_stockport_gypsies_thumbnail

In 1971, when we were both nineteen and students at Manchester Polytechnic, Shireen Shah joined me on my visits to Stockport’s gypsy and traveller site. She was studying sociology and researching for her dissertation. In 2013 she recalled those trips:

“This was a time when the local councils were meant to be making provision for them [gypsies and travellers] to have a site so they could stop and not be illegal. But many of the councils didn’t provide sites. This was one of the few places that they could stop and not be illegal. I called my dissertation Out of Gear.

“They weren’t liked. I went with them once to the laundry. They took their washing up to a laundry and one of them explained how you’d never use the same plastic bowl for washing clothes, your lettuce, separate stuff. But you could see that people didn’t want them to be coming in.”

 

——————–

James Nutter and Sons, Bancroft Shed, Barnoldswick

https://vimeo.com/112802871

02_bancroft_weaving_shed

Between 1975 and 1977 I worked as photographer-in-residence to the Borough of Pendle: the towns of Nelson, Colne, Barnoldswick and Earby in north-east Lancashire. Here I made a series of extensive documentary studies. James Nutter and Sons at Bancroft Shed, Barnoldswick was one of these. The last remaining steam powered cotton weaving mill in the district, Bancroft’s buildings and machinery were largely unchanged since its construction during the first world war.

 

——————–

The Engine House, Bancroft Shed

03_stanley_thumbnail

During my time as photographer-in-residence I got to know and, in due course become friends with, Stanley Graham, the steam engineer (‘tenter’) at Bancroft. Stanley was a key contact, introducing me to his fellow employees in the mill, to the Weldone gang of boiler fluers from Brierfield and to Rochdale steeplejack Peter Tatham. In return, I helped him with his photography and audio recording.

In due course the mill closed and, in 1982, it was demolished. Stanley, who had a passion for history, attended evening classes at Nelson & Colne College and later went on to complete a degree at Lancaster University. During this time he also produced an extraordinary and unrivalled study of workers in the cotton trade, the Lancashire Textile Project (LTP), now housed in the special collections archive of Lancaster University.

In 2004 Stanley was awarded a fieldwork and recording lifetime achievement award by the Association for Industrial Archaeology.

 

——————–

Weldone Boiler Fluers

04_weldone_thumbnail

Weldone of Brierfield, a family firm of chimney sweeps, cleaned Bancroft’s boiler and chimney flues three times every year but, by 1976 when I photographed him, Charlie Sutton, the boss, had had enough.

“I’ve known every bloody boiler house in this part of the country,” he told me, “I’ve been to hell and back.” He was forty-nine and exhausted.

“I have a bad heart. I told Jack [his mate who worked with him inside the boilers], if he comes to me funeral, I want half a bottle o’ Bell’s puttin’ in with me, and me fluin’ mask.”

In October that year, following the publication of a spread of these pictures in Lancashire Life magazine, a buyer for Weldone was found and Charlie Sutton was able to retire. I’m almost certain that this is the only set of photographs ever done of boiler fluers at work.

 

——————–

Peter Tatham, Steeplejack

05_steeplejack_thumbnail

In September 1976 I photographed Rochdale steeplejack, Peter Tatham, first ladder and then demolish the 150 foot (46 metre) chimney of the former Salford city incinerator.

With a hole cut in the chimney’s side at the bottom so that rubble could be removed, Peter worked his way down the stack. Sitting astride the wall he took it apart piece by piece, dropping sections of cast iron and brickwork down inside the shaft.

“It’s a job like this,” he explained. “If you’re workin’ up there, you need to have done the labourin’ job to understand what the labourer’s doin’ down there and what you want him to do. The first time or two were a bit uncomfortable, ‘cos they stuck me up a big ‘un down in Rochdale first time, in winter. I got under the head and I came back down again. I couldn’t feel me bloody finger ends, you know?”

 

——————–

Pig Killing, North Yorkshire

06_pig_killing_thumbnail

In the winter of 1976-77 I visited Old Farm, Little Stainton in north Yorkshire. Here Cyril Richardson and his family reared pigs and, around Christmas, killed them. The hams and flitches were cured, the bacon hammered, rolled and hung up.

In the pictures Cyril is the man sharpening knives. His wife Elsie holds up the lace fat from the belly. Their daughter is Helen, their son-in-law farmer lad Tony Critchley. The butcher is Everett Moor. His assistant (in specs) is Jim Woodhouse. Wearing the ICI coat is Herbert Bray.

“The only thing that’s wasted with a pig,” said Elsie, “is its squeal.”

 

——————–

Welfare State International

07_welfare_state_thumbnail

As photographer-in-residence, one of my jobs was to record the work of Welfare State International, based in Burnley.

Formed in 1968 as a collective, Welfare State took art out of the privileged spaces of theatre and gallery, to reach new audiences. Innovators of community art, carnival, fire show spectaculars, lantern festivals and pioneering theatre of all kinds, Welfare State’s work has been internationally acclaimed.

“In those days you could get free teeth and free coffins,” co-founder John Fox recalled in 2013, “but you couldn’t necessarily get free art.”

 

——————–

Clayton Ward, Prestwich Hospital, Manchester

Clayton Ward, Prestwich Psychiatric Hospital, Manchester, 1978

These pictures are about mental illness and the beginnings of what we now call ‘care in the community’.

In February 1978, I lived for two weeks with twenty long-stay psychiatric patients at Prestwich Hospital in north Manchester. Forgotten souls, most of them had been there for at least as long as I was old. I was twenty-six. Brought together from all over the hospital, these patients were guinea pigs in an experiment.

Encouraged by what psychiatrists had discovered from the application of post-war psychopharmacology and influenced by the behaviour modification theories of B F Skinner and also R D Laing’s ‘politics of experience’, psychologists at Prestwich established Clayton Ward. Here they instigated a token economy scheme.

The objective was to enable patients to live ‘out in the community’. First, though, they needed to learn how to behave in ways that would not upset or alarm people ‘on the outside’. A necessary prerequisite for a patient’s inclusion in this experiment was that he or she should have an addiction, in this case tobacco smoking. ‘Good’ behaviour — engaging in ‘verbal interaction’, making your bed, wearing a tie, tucking your shirt in and so on — was rewarded with tokens.

And you needed tokens to buy not just tobacco but also your food and drink.

 

[1] Williams, Val (ed). (1997) National Portraits: Photographs from the 1970s by Daniel Meadows. Salford: Viewpoint Photography Gallery, and Derby: Montage Gallery.

Williams, Val. 2011. Daniel Meadows: Edited Photographs from the 70s and 80sBrighton: Photoworks.

[2] Meadows, Daniel. (1975) . Living Like This: Around Britain in the Seventies. London: Arrow Books.

Remember to subscribe to the movies…here!

All images above ©Daniel Meadows

Interview for RRB Photobooks

I wrote this for RRB Photobooks, it was published on December 14th 2014.

Café Royal Books is ten next year. As happens in a decade, a lot has changed; some planned changes, some happenchance. The reason I started CRB was to enable me to disseminate affordably my own work, quickly, internationally, and to many places at the same time. I had spent the previous decade painting large abstracts which were prohibitive due to their size and weight, so decided to return to drawing for its simplicity and speed. ‘The book’ worked as exhibition spaces, and ‘the multiple’ as a ‘rapid fire’. The content of the books was unfocussed and production fairly DIY, but considered. The excitement was in the making and in using the book as a container.

Somehow, online mainly, word spread and I ended up collaborating with other artists, illustrators and some photographers, publishing their work as small editions of around 50 copies. Around 2006 my practice began to shift from pen to lens based, partly because I could work faster and more simply without as much ‘interference’ as happened with a pen / pencil; also because I started to value more the recording of information, possibly for the future. We had our first child around the same time which probably had an impact on my way of thinking. Of course, as my own practice and interests changed, so did what I wanted to publish. It wasn’t until around 2010-11 that I started to become more focussed and direct about what I was to publish, and about what I wanted to make in terms of my work outside of Café Royal.

There has always been a bit of a clash, time-wise mostly, between the things I do. I’m a full time lecturer on three separate degree courses. I make work, exhibit etc my photographs – generally focussing on Brutalist estates and the urban environment. I have two children, 3 and 6. Café Royal has become a full time business, still run out of a small room, and only me…It’s hard work but really enjoyable and it’s a privilege to work with so many artists and photographers.

What I do now is publish a book each week. I can’t possibly publish all the work I’d like to, so have to remain pretty focussed in terms of subject. The subject tends to be work that documents an aspect of change; social, architectural, geographical…I don’t know what drives people (or me) to take photographs of things. It’s a strange compulsion, but somehow there is a need. ‘Now’ is happening – people know ‘now’, so the photographs, to my mind at least, become something else when the ‘now’ has passed and is no longer accessible first hand. They gain historical value or importance perhaps.

My experience of working with photographers is that generally they work for ‘the now’ for various reasons. One is financial. We all need money and work and so are focussed on ‘the now’. Others, who have perhaps had their commercial career, may have other interests: books, travel for example. In most cases there are vast archives of work that are untouched, mainly because the photographer has no reason to touch them. Feedback from many collaborators has been that CRB has offered the photographer opportunity to revisit their much forgotten archives. This has sometimes led to a rethink of current work and to other opportunities for sales and exhibitions of older work. None of this is intentional, it’s not why I started Café Royal, but knowing that this occurs means a lot and has become an aim of what I do.

My books are inexpensive, both to produce and to buy, in comparison for example to a coffee table hard back. They are limited run, generally of 200 copies. The conflicts with my desire of getting this forgotten archive work seen by many. However, many galleries and museums now collect my books. They are in a lot of ‘special collections’, photobook collections, artist book collections, exhibitions and so on. This makes them publicly accessible, looked after, ‘locked in’. So essentially anyone can gain access to them without
owning them. This has become a strong element of what I do. To have the work collected by galleries is important, if for no other reason than to fill the gaps in UK gallery photographic archives, which are fairly slim. Of course there are other reasons. To know MoMA, Tate, V&A and other major international galleries want the books enough to collect them means a lot. To have many shops stocking them and to have so many customers from the website is priceless. To meet Peter Mitchell, Ken Grant, Martin Parr, Daido Moriyama and discuss books, their work, their past work is amazing. I think publishing has allowed me to do a lot that perhaps otherwise I wouldn’t have done.

I once lost all of my own books, collected over 30 years – about 800 books, in a flood. I now have a strange relationship with books – I make lots of them but am still fearful of buying too many. Publishing allows me to make the books I’d like to collect; albeit a strange way of going about it!

The future. I’d like to start a PhD but need to fine-tune the question. It might relate to some of the above. I want to continue to publish small affordable well produced books / zines showing moments of change. I see Café Royal Books as a kind of meeting point. I don’t just publish the work of well known photographers but I do only publish work that I like and often subjects or times that I couldn’t get access to myself. As long as it’s enjoyable I’ll continue. There’s a lot of important work that needs to be seen! In many ways I see what I do as a long term project, cataloging the not too distant past.

Recently I’ve started a new project, ‘Notes’, which will hopefully become a reference tool and work as contextual support for the books I publish.

The original article can be seen here.

David Walker – Spectators

Today I published a book by David Walker called Spectators. As part of his proposal, David sent me some notes explaining the work. There are more posts planned for next year which present more of David’s work; work that wouldn’t fit in terms of a Café Royal publications but is still very relevant in terms of UK Social Documentary.

I began making photographs in 1983. I’d been working as an Art Director in Advertising since I left school at 15, and at the ripe old age of 35 I began to look and appreciate the work of Weegee (Arthur Fellig), Eugene Smith, Gary Winogrand, and Tony Ray-Jones.

I was working then as one half of a freelance concept team with a writer, which afforded me a little time to persue something that I desperately needed to do (photography). I purchased a Pentax LX some lenses and began to take photographs.

One of my great interests when I was younger was Speedway Racing, I needed something to get excited about so I visited Belle Vue to see what I could find. I discovered two madly dedicated fans, and found that after their permission they were so infatuated with the sport that they forgot about me poking my camera just inches away from their animated faces. ‘SPECTATORS’ was born right there.

I enjoyed an amazing amount of success for my first project by being shortlisted at the Photographers Gallery and had shows at Oldham Art Gallery, the then prestigious Turnpike Gallery, and a part show ‘City life’ at the Cornerhouse making the front cover of the Cornerhouse magazine.

There are interesting stories surrounding every image in the book. Here are four that relate to the images below.

Wimbledon:
I managed to acquire a ticket for the semi final between Boris Becker and Stefan Edberg from my wife’s boss.The character I photographed because he came from a wealthy background would be termed as eccentric, if he was from a lower class background would be labeled MAD. I was seriously restricted in my movement so I waited patiently for this character to react to the play, when Boris won a set he stood up and gestured to a friend with the thumbs up sign.

Football:
With this image, I managed to obtain a ticket from Newcastle so that I could be in the Newcastle PEN. It was Hades in there,”I was in danger of my life”. However I managed to complete several strong images before someone stood beside me, and said in his best Geordie accent “I think you’d better go now”. The image shown here (which was shown in the Centenary of the Football League Book under the slogan “We hate humans”) was taken before the game even started.

The World Cup Snooker Final:
I decided to put my own slant on this by photographing the final between the unknown finalist Joe Johnson and Steve Davies in a Working Mens Club in Failsworth. The tension can clearly be seen on the faces of the Pool players as they watched the final frame of the tournament on the tele in the corner of the room.

Ice Hockey:
This was a very difficult shoot. I shot in several different areas before I realised that when the players were taking ‘A time out’
that they themselves became Spectators of their own sport.

Spectators by David Walker
27.11.14
36 pages
14cm x 20cm
b/w digital
Edition of 150

£7.00 available from Café Royal Books

All images © David Walker. Publication © Café Royal Books.