St Martin's Exhibition Review

Cryptic Visions

Peter Jennings

Personal work can often be just that - personal, rather than individual. The exhibition 'Seven Photographers and a Poet' had great strengths - well presented , well printed work showing commitment and vision. The cracks showed when self retreated into self - rather than communicating with others. You may gain your soul, but you can lose the whole World.

Yet the exhibition was a showcase for some of the most talented members of LIP and a genuine and concerted attempt to introduce, to a largely un-tutored public, an unfamiliar aspect of photography. I realised this as I crept into the Crypt of St. Martin's Church and found a composite of framed prints, one from each of the seven photographers : including a framed poem from John Powls - the poet.. As an overview of the exhibition, it seemed to have been designed to welcome the viewer and prepare them for what was to come..

Carol Ballenger and poet, John Powls collaborated and divided words and images of Dartmoor - sometimes to effect, but generally this partnership did not gel. Admittedly poems, set against strong photographic images, do not marry. Even with the 'Ruins of Elmet', Ted Hughes' very visual poetry, etched from the land, and his own experience of working it, sat opposingly alongside Fay Godwin's compact, self-contained images. Illustration is an art in itself : with Ballenger and Powls, neither effectively illustrated the other - with the exception of two collaborative works 'Onions' and 'Shorelines' in which poems and images were complementary. Ballenger's 'Dartmoor Dreams' stood apart as well crafted examples of a genre of English landscape photography.- although there was nothing new there, in terms of a new vision, and Powl's poetry as a good example of contemporary poetry. Ballenger's photographs of sand (Earth Signs) shown as a separate group, showed bold graphic patterns which are, on first sight, striking - at second, form overrides content. With this series, less (form) could mean more (content).

Words seemed to be necessary to preface Carol Hudsons' images of parkland (Boundaries of Recognition) but the angst/pleasure she confesses to feel in these areas, when walking alone, is not apparent without the support of words. In the woodland shots, she displayed, dark shadows, seemed too much of a cliché. Most successful and communicative were photographs showing earth mounds - there were few visual clues as to what lays around, or beyond this bleak landscape - here is unknown and intimidating territory. An interesting departure from Hudson's previous work - with some obvious links to it.

There was an inevitable link between Carol Hudson's parkland series and Graham Hodgson's 'Shadows in the Park.' Looking at Hodgson's pictures I felt a sense of deja vu, as if I had opened up a mid-seventies edition of Creative Camera. Using a marked amount of space, in his photographs of public open spaces, Hodgson gave his own interpretation of alienation - if that is his intention : the absence of people, even as figures in a landscape, seemed determined. An introspective vision, which could gain with some extroversion.

Sam Gardener exhibited clean uncomplicated images of the untamed landscape of Iceland. 'Whooper Swans Returning' showed a delicate pattern of birds in formation against subtle greys of the sky while 'Austerhorn, Afternoon High Tide' was a photo-collage of vignettes of birds' feathers and stones found on a beach - the centrepiece being a photograph of an effervescent sea. But surely there is more cruelty in this landscape than the death of birds - nature in Iceland is not into conservation but ever changing destruction. Like Ballenger, Gardner has a superb command of the medium, but could have looked a little deeper into his chosen metaphor.

One of the most impressive contributions to the exhibition was Virginia Khuri's series of sea pictures titled 'From the Edge of the Deep.' These showed the very edge of the sea in light, vibrant, 16" x 20" prints. Size was everything in this collection of seascapes and maximised the spacious poetry of these quiet, yet dynamic images. Thankfully, no lengthy statement was attached - leaving the pictures to speak for themselves. Immediately impressive was one photograph (untitled) where the shingle, in the foreground at the bottom of the print, faded away into an almost bleached out horizon. There is the feeling that heavy decisions were made on all aspects of the making of these prints - and that they were the right ones.

Water and spaces, like Khuri's, are also important to William Bishop in his 'Water Side Ways' series of panoramic waterside views - though the photographs concerned the urban, rather than the rural environment. His 'phenomenological' (the science of phenomena) study investigates water as communications channel, amenity, phenomenon and the human relationships with it - it also includes an 'aspect of the photographer'. What aspect that is, we are not sure; but the openness and expansiveness of a photograph of the Thames at Greenwich contrasted strangely with the some of the other images which were visually busy - almost claustrophobic. Perhaps this is a phenomenon, or perhaps not, but there seems a genuine search for something by Bishop in this series, not yet fully realised beyond an interesting examination of space and structures around waterways - within a well chosen photographic format. I look forward to (hopefully) seeing more of this series in the future, as it develops, and to forming a more objective judgement

To look into a photographers work and draw visual conclusions often puts you in a minefield of subjective no-no's. Jill Staples 'Memories of Jim' is a series of images created for the death of a friend - a gardener by profession. We see deserted greenhouses, overgrown with delicate strands of dead creepers - fragile lifelines perhaps? And broken panes of glass - a life/lives shattered? These are easy metaphors, but may be erroneous; these visual connections may have deeper meanings for the photographer - but if a 'personal' statement is intended for public viewing in some way, clarity of feeling should push through. Perhaps there are more varied images in the series? Expressions of mortality, evoked by the medium of photography are possible; Manuel Alvarez Bravo's rich metaphorical testaments of his culture, with its awareness of death and the transience of life, are evidence enough.

A word on John Powls - though I feel woefully under-qualified to comment on his poetry as I don't possess a BSc Eng Lit. Powls, like his visual companions, exhibits his work framed - so one can, presumably, as with Victorian epithets to good conduct and morality, imbibe his good thoughts each day. Powl's poetry has an empathy with the land of surprising sensitivity for a prison governor (Powls is an ex Governor of Dartmoor) but seems to lack the edge that one might associate from someone who has held that position.

The Curate's Egg Award for this exhibition then - good in parts, very good in others. But with any well intentioned attempt to show the public that photography can go beyond the calendar picture and symbolise individual concerns, photographers have to be very sure what those concerns are. All the greatest art is of course personal even when it is difficult, at first sight, to comprehend - requiring real work on the part of the viewer but it eventually reaches out to touch many. That is the achievement, if not the initial intention. It is that universality that is worth striving for when you close and lock your front door.

© Peter Jennings 1997.



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