Everybody’s clever nowadays
February 15, 2010
Byker is a photobook by the Finnish photographer Sirkka-Liisa Konttinen. To me it has all the elements of great art – it is in turn humourous, dark, life-affirming and deeply touching. Konttinen came to England to study film-making and although she was originally based in London, she moved to the Byker area of Newcastle in 1969.
The book is a product of the twelve years that she spent there and it as much a social document as it is an artwork. The 1970s saw a proliferation of British documentary photography and the medium became, in many respects, a political occupation, albeit with aesthetic intent. Photographers were giving a voice to those who are marginalised or simply forgotten (For example Shirley Baker, who documented the compulsory demolition of working class areas of Manchester).
Konttinen’s work appeals to me because it has authenticity, largely due to the fact she chose to live in the area that she photographed. Whilst she would always be an outsider because of her nationality, it gave her an objectivity that perhaps wouldn’t be present if she was born and bred in Byker. But one of the many roles of an artist is highlight the beauty in places where people see none.
An intriguing aspect of the work is the way in which Konttinen interweaves words with the images. In selected parts of the book she includes conversations or monologues from residents, an atmospheric approach that really brings the people to life. The speech she includes is heavily accented and punctuated by slang but it provides a brilliant window into the everyday life of the area. In less considered hands this may have been construed as condescending but it is an amazingly heart-warming work.
Photobooks tend to have a standard approach, normally featuring an artist’s statement followed by a daunting and somehow intentionally impenetrable academic essay. By recording the thoughts, speech patterns and worldview of the people, the book creates a fantastic sense of atmosphere and it documents a community that has long since disappeared: much of the area was later bulldozed in the name of redevelopment.
February 15, 2010 at 2:27 pm
Lovely piece Tom. It is a skilful eye that can captures the roses amongst the thorns.
Have you seen the the Birmingham history exhibits in BM&G… photographs, shoes, clothing, recorded conversations?. I think you would enjoy them very much.
Every picture, every person, young or old has an interesting viewpoint or story to tell. It’s in us all, albeit sometimes not recognised.
Be it social/political/humourous, I feel it is all relevant and integral to our life history.
It’s what makes me tick …. life being art, art being life.
February 19, 2010 at 9:21 am
ANother quality post mate! I really get why this does it for you. I find it more difficult if I am honest. Not the images in themselves and dont get me wrong I see the beauty and I see the value of people that can do this. For me though I always look to escape somewhere in the art that I love. Another time another place and always a “romantic” intense feeling.
I walked home from moms along the brook and over The Banks and thought about how magical it still felt to me and what a huge part of my self I owe to spending my childhood playing there. But I always fantasised that it was somewhere else. So if I did a project about a local place I guess i would edit and crop and emphasise just like I did when I was ten and I would create the world the way I would wish it to be.
There is a tree you probably remember on the other side of the brook growing in a swampy bit, kinda on its side. It was very hard to get to but it looked magical to me and could be anywhere in the world. It still does but now I see the rest of the picture. I wish I didn’t.
very thought provoking. You blog is working very well!
February 25, 2010 at 10:57 pm
I know exactly where you mean Dean. I think that living where we did meant that we had to seek out nature where we could find it really. I’m amazed that we could spend entire days there, just creating our own adventures. It’s a bit sad to say that if we had the chance to spend time there now I think we wouldn’t see the point – time seems too precious to waste now – but of course that’s nonsense!
You can’t beat wasting time. Staring at fences, talking to gyppo horses. Burning plastic.