Oscar Wilde’s London by Wolf von Eckardt, Sander L. Gilman and J. Edward Chamberlin (1987)

A large format, 284-page coffee-table book most notable for its many contemporary illustrations (all in black and white).

This is not an academic book – it is a popular social history or review of the cultural life of London over the period between Oscar Wilde’s first arrival in London – having graduated from Oxford, in 1879 – to May 1897 when he was released from Pentonville prison and took the night train to Dieppe, never to return. Twenty years, quite a long time, a generation.

The introduction is a collection of clichés and stereotypes about the period, telling us the end of the nineteenth century was a time of immense social, economic, technological and cultural change etc – not only more people but more technological inventions (photography, electric lighting, telegraph, telephone, early motor car), more newspapers, journals and magazines, publishing more facts and figures and stories and photographs and illustrations than ever before, intellectual ferment Darwin, Arts and Crafts, the peak of Empire, Victoria’s jubilees etc etc – the kind of thing you read in absolutely every introduction to the period and quickly becomes over-familiar.

But when you get into the chapters on specific topics these get quite interesting on a whole range of topics, from the electrification of the first streets, public buildings and theatres to details about football, rugby and cricket, the rise of bicycling, various forms of religion and so on, all accompanied by jolly contemporary illustrations. A notable feature is extended quotes from interesting sources such as Wilde’s trial, police reports, WT Stead’s articles, T.S. Eliot’s obituary of Marie Lloyd and so on. These are interesting tasters, incentivising the reader to go searching for fuller texts online…

By way of a ‘review’ I thought it would be fun to give a brief summary and one image from each chapter.

1. Art and Life

Rapid expansion. The Underground. More train lines led to huge expansion of new suburbs.

From Pentonville Road looking west evening, 1884 by John O’Connor © Museum of London

Aestheticism already existed (Rossetti, Swinburne) but Wilde set out to make himself its apostle, peacock feathers and sunflowers. Mocked in Gilbert and Sullivan’s operetta Patience. Wilde’s lecture tour of America accompanying a tour of the opera.

Wilde lived with the painter Frank Miles who moved to an Aesthetic house at 1 Tite Street, where Wilde was later to move, in 1884 after he married Constance Lloyd (neighbours to James Whistler and John Singer Sergeant). They had the place redesigned by Edward Godwin. The interior decoration described by his son Vyvyan. The salon his wife, Constance, established.

Three or four page discussion of the overlap between Aestheticism and the Arts and Crafts movement, with its serious commitment to improving the surroundings and lives of the population with beautiful architecture, furnishings etc. Ruskin and Morris’s serious political commitment, and Wilde’s take on it in his essay The Soul of Man Under Socialism.

2. Lilies and Sunflowers

The Arts and Crafts Movement, William Morris, Burne-Jones. The Kelmscott Press. The vegetal style i.e. the sinuous line based on lilies which spread across Europe in Art Nouveau, the Jugendstil etc (p.41). The fashion for Japanisme.

Ruskin thought ornament was the basis of architecture. Morris thought ornament was the basis of civilised society (p.32). This explains why Arts and Crafts interiors, wallpaper and furniture were so heavy, cluttered and dark.

Acanthus wallpaper by William Morris

Libertys. The Kelmscott Press. Ruskin and Morris were populist, Whistler and Wilde were elitists. The Ruskin versus Whistler libel trial. The fashion for Japanoiserie. The rise and rise of home decoration and furnishing in lots of new magazines. Wilde’s American lecture which explains the two types of beauty epitomised y the sunflower and the lily (p.41).

The PRB artists: Burne-Jones, Millais, Waterhouse. Aubrey Beardsley’s illustrations for the Yellow Book and Wilde’s play, Salome. Beardsley’s self presentation was every bit as calculating and immaculate as Wilde’s but in a different mode.

Aubrey Beardsley photographed by Frederick Hollyer (Victoria and Albert Museum)

3. The Call of the Stage

In October 1881 Richard D’Oyly Carte opened the New Savoy Theatre on the Strand, the first building in London to be lit by electricity, specifically 1,200 electric arc lamps and 715 stage lamps. D’Oyly Carte had already produced:

  • Trial by Jury (1875)
  • The Sorcerer (1877)
  • HMS Pinafore (1878)
  • The Pirates of Penzance (1879)
  • Patience or Bunthorne’s Bride (1881)
  • Iolanthe (1882)
  • Princess Ida (1884)
  • The Mikado (1885)
  • Ruddigore; or, The Witch’s Curse (1887)
  • The Yeomen of the Guard (1888)
  • The Gondoliers (1889)
  • Utopia, Limited (1893)
  • The Grand Duke (1896)

Leading actors of the later 1870s and 1880s Henry Irving and Ellen Terry who appeared together in an 1885 Hamlet.

Ellen Terry

Playwrights before Wilde, namely Arthur Wing Pinero, author of ‘The Second Mrs Tanqueray’ (1892) the latest of umpteen ‘Woman with a Past’ stories (the premise used by Wilde in, for example, ‘Lady Windermere’s Fan’).

Mrs Patrick Campbell

Mrs Patrick Campbell is from the next generation of actresses, starting her career in ‘The Second Mrs Tanqueray’. She kept up a spirited correspondence with the young new playwright George Bernard Shaw, whose first production was ‘Widowers Houses’ (1892). Notes on Wilde’s run of four social comedies:

  • Lady Windermere’s Fan (1892)
  • A Woman of No Importance (1893)
  • An Ideal Husband
  • The Importance of Being Earnest (1895)

The influence of Henrik Ibsen, his various translators and adapters. Popular theatre, Sadlers Wells, pantomime and penny gaffs.

4. Readers and Writers

The proliferation of outlets for the reading public; bookshops, kiosks, railway shops; newspapers, magazines from The Labour Prophet to The Yellow Book. The yellow press (‘newspapers that use eye-catching headlines and sensationalized exaggerations’). Proliferation of literary magazines (p.83) but also pulp, penny dreadfuls, shilling shockers.

Magazine seller at Ludgate Circus

Tennyson (d.1892)’s anxiety about progress and materialism. Robert Browning (d.1889)’s dramatic monologues, mostly from history. New kid on the block Rudyard Kipling’s poems and stories. Inevitably the authors quote from his poem The White Man’s Burden, about empire, everyone always does.

Meanwhile…Socialism! The Socialist League of Hammersmith. The Fabians, Beatrice and Sidney Webb. 1886 riots in the West End.

New science inspired Robert Louis Stephenson (d. 1894) but also, with huge impact, H.G. Wells. Both of them and many other authors were associated with the new mystique of cities – fogs, mysteries, doppelgangers. The well-known story about American publisher J. M. Stoddart inviting Oscar Wilde and Arthur Conan Doyle for dinner and commissioning the second Sherlock Holmes novel and The Picture of Dorian Gray which triggers quotes from reviews of Dorian, particularly the famous one by Charles Whibley which accused it of immorality (p.94).

One literary feature of the fin-de-siecle was the Rhymers Club meeting at the Cheshire Cheese pub in the Strand, including Ernest Dowson, Lionel Johnson, Francis Thompson, Richard Le Gallienne, Arthur Symons with Wilde attending meetings that were held in private homes.

Wilde’s death in 1900 coincided with the date W.B. Yeats thinks the whole fin-de-siecle thing evaporated. As he wrote in the introduction to his (quirky) Oxford Book of Modern Verse.

Then in 1900 everybody got down off his stilts; henceforth nobody drank absinthe with his black coffee; nobody went mad; nobody committed suicide; nobody joined the Catholic church; or if they did I have forgotten.

5. London’s Growth

‘It was a turbulent time.’ New buildings and boulevards. Electric lighting spread quickly. Creation of the Embankment and ongoing extension of the Underground. Regent Street. Trafalgar Square. Horses and carts and hansom cabs. Traffic jams on the Strand.

Regent Street Quadrant at Night by Francis Forster (Museum of London)

The pong of horse poo. Drinking troughs. Crossing sweepers. Thick fogs.

Horse bus outside the Shard Arms on Peckham Park Road, circa 1895

Accents of different parts of London which is the basis for Shaw’s play ‘Pygmalion’. Crooked property developers and ramshackle tenements. The fourth Earl of Bedford’s Covent Garden development of the 1630s became a model or sorts. The financial motivation for all those tall narrow Georgian houses facing squares (p.113).

The army of domestic servants. In Wilde’s day London houses as many as a million and a quarter domestic servants. Many, maybe most female servants were subjected to sexual harassment. If they were caught or got pregnant they were fired without a reference. This forced most into a life of prostitution, hence the vast numbers in London.

The Season began as a method of getting marriageable young daughters up from their country estates to find husbands at a packed series of parties and public events. By Wilde’s time it was also a market for industrialists and financiers and men with money to acquire a pedigree by marrying into aristocratic families. By Wilde’s time there was a growing influx of American heiresses looking for posh husbands, a type he mocks in essays and in the character of Hester Worsley in ‘A Woman of No Importance’ (1893).

The vast army of dressmakers and seamstresses who supported these well-dressed women during the Season, as many as 20,000. Middle class consumption, more shops, more manufactured goods. The new big department stores: Harrods, Whiteleys. Huge new restaurants and grill rooms.

6. …and London’s Shame

The poverty of the East End and other slum quarters. Workers slaved long hours in the ‘stink industries’ like soap, rubber, tar, glue, fertiliser made from blood and matches. Sweatshops which were, in fact, freezing cold in winter.

Fore Street, Lambeth

Dr Barnardo’s Home for Working and Destitute Lads. Wilde was notoriously dismissive of charity which he thought applied sticking plasters to a system which needed to be completely overthrown. At least that’s what he said in the Soul of Man Under Socialism.

Vast armies of prostitutes, dolly mops (promiscuous servant girls) including the boy renters Wilde frequented. Conscription to the army during the Boer War (1899 to 1902) not only revealed the wretched physical state of working class men but that a large percentage had sexually transmitted infections (20% of the army, more in the Navy).

The armies of the poor were continually replenished by immigrants, notably Jews from East Europe who suffered periodic antisemitic riots when times were hard, but also Chinese and lascars. Nine pages about the Jack the Ripper murders 1888 to 1891 i.e. as Wilde wrote his best essays and Dorian Gray (pages 130 to 139).

New architecture. The later Victorians rebelled against the straitlaced classicism of Georgian architecture and exploded in a plethora of wild styles, including all manner of Gothic covered with decoration and ornament e.g. St Pancras station by Gilbert George Scott. Plus the Law Courts, Piccadilly Circus,

The suburbs were built partly for political goals. Lord Shaftsbury said ‘If the working man has his own house. I have no fear of revolution’. And hence an 1883 Cheap Trains Act forcing the railway companies to offer cheap fares for those commuting in and out of the centre. Developers packed suburban terraces so that architectural critics complained about their sameyness. Certainly the case in South London where I live and you can cycle through Streatham, Tooting and on down to Morden seeing the same type of 1900s terraced houses in street after street.

The Golden Age of the London Pub with plenty of gilt and mirrors. Somehow this segues into testimony from the Oscar Wilde trial from one of the many young men Wilde paid to have sex with.

7. The Lower Classes

The population grew from 3,215,000 in 1870 to 4,211,000 in 1890, from two sources: immigration from the countryside; immigration of Jews from Eastern Europe. the long recession 1873 to 1893 led to unemployment as did cheaper better imports coming from America then Germany.

‘The Bitter Cry Of Outcast London: An Inquiry Into The Condition Of The Abject Poor’ by Andrew Mearns (1883). ‘In Darkest England and the Way Out’ by William Booth (1890). The Salvation Army.

Victorian street kids

Life expectancy in the country 51, in London 28. Armies of rough sleepers. Long quote of Beatrice Webb’s eye witness account of a steamer arriving carrying refugee Jews from the East. The great hero Dr Barnardo. Phos girls who lacked jaws or fingers, eaten away by phosphorus as they made matches.

The work of Henry Labouchère, MP, social reformer, best known for his campaign to stamp out ‘vice’ which led to the Labouchère Amendment (Section 11 of the Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885) which for the first time criminalised ‘gross indecency’ meaning any type of male homosexual activity in Britain and was the law Wilde was convicted under.

1888 article in the Fortnightly Review detailing the unfair conditions domestic servants labour under.

8. Religion, Spirits and Hosanna

Religious belief declined steadily through the second half of the nineteenth century. Some posh people defected to the Roman Catholic church (as Wilde did on his deathbed). But allegiance to the Church of England slowly steadily declined. Wilde has several comic churchmen, notably the Reverend Canon Chasuble in The Importance of Being Earnest.

My sermon on the meaning of the manna in the wilderness can be adapted to almost any occasion, joyful, or, as in the present case, distressing. [All sigh.] I have preached it at harvest celebrations, christenings, confirmations, on days of humiliation and festal days. The last time I delivered it was in the Cathedral, as a charity sermon on behalf of the Society for the Prevention of Discontent among the Upper Orders. The Bishop, who was present, was much struck by some of the analogies I drew.

The central importance of Darwinism (On The Origin of Species 1859, The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex, 1871). In fact Darwinism was mostly known through various popularisations of it the most damaging of which was Herbert Spencer’s Social Darwinism which preached that the weak in society deserve to go under.

Upper and middle class dimwits were taken in by Theosophy, spiritualism and so on (as Wilde’s wife, Constance, was). Occultism, mesmerism, seances, clairvoyancy.

Charles Bradlaugh’s defiant refusal, as an atheist, to take the oath of allegiance when he was elected MP. Controversy around Sabbatarianism i.e. whether shops or anything could open on a Sunday. Bradlaugh helped organise the National Sunday League.

9. The Sounds of London

Music high and low. Gilbert and Sullivan. Religious music by Villiers Stanford and Herbert Parry. The astonishing popularity of the oratorio as a form, ‘the dull centre’ of Victorian music. The widespread popularity of choral societies around the country. George Bernard Shaw’s very funny mockery of all this English earnestness. Henry Wood’s Promenade Concerts began in 1895, the year of Wilde’s conviction.

Serious music had to be imported from abroad, Italy, France and especially Germany. The cult of Wagner among aesthetes and students.

Truer to English culture was the music hall, first one opened in 1852 by 1860 there were 250 in London. I’ve always admired Kipling for immediately grasping, on arriving in London, that music hall was the true voice of the capital and basing his Barrack Room Ballads (1890) on them. The authors give an extended quote from an 1891 article in Harper’s New Monthly Magazine describing the different kinds of music hall in London and their audiences and content (pages 186 to 192).

Stars of music hall such as Marie Lloyd and Harry Champion. The fashion for ‘coon’ songs sung by minstrel troupes.

Quote from T.S. Eliot’s obituary of Lloyd:

The working-man who went to the music-hall and saw Marie Lloyd and joined in the chorus was himself performing part of the work of acting; he was engaged in that collaboration of the audience with the artist which is necessary in all art and most obviously in dramatic art. He will now go to the cinema, where his mind is lulled by continuous senseless music and continuous action too rapid for the brain to act upon, and he will receive, without giving, in that same listless apathy with which the middle and upper classes regard any entertainment of the nature of art. He will also have lost some of his interest in life.

Which carries on with some prophetic words:

Perhaps this will be the only solution. In a most interesting essay in the recent volume of Essays on the Depopulation of Melanesia the great psychologist W.H.R. Rivers adduces evidence which has led him to believe that the natives of that unfortunate archipelago are dying out principally for the reason that the “Civilization” forced upon them has deprived them of all interest in life. They are dying from pure boredom. When every theatre has been replaced by 100 cinemas, When every musical instrument has been replaced by 100 gramophones, when every horse has been replaced by 100 cheap motor cars, when electrical ingenuity has made it possible for every child to hear its bed-time stories through a wireless receiver attached to both ears, when applied science has done everything possible with the materials on this earth to make life as interesting as possible, it will not be surprising if the population of the entire civilized world rapidly follows the fate of the Melanesians.

Others lamented the crudity and vulgarity of the music hall and preferred the imagined purity of folk song, such as Herbert Parry at the inauguration of the Folk Song Society in 1898.

10. Virtues of Sport

The English upper and middle classes worshipped sport. The public schools put more onus on sporting prowess than intelligence as the history of the British Army indicates. Football. Cricket. The MCC founded 1787. The Football Association founded 1863. Rugby left The Football Association in 1863 and, in 1895, split between rugby union and rugby league. The first lawn tennis championship was held at Wimbledon in 1881.

The authors do not hesitate to quote Vitaï Lampada by Sir Henry Newbolt as absolutely everybody writing a book like this has to. It was written in 1892, the year Wilde’s first play was produced.

Bicycling became a craze in the 1890s. In a sense it was a middle class equivalent of the aristocratic habit of riding horses. The bicycle had an impact on women’s liberation because women could, quite simply, travel further and associate with more people, friends and young men.

1890s cycling women

Cycling became involved in the movement for women to wear more rational i.e. practical and flexible clothing. Wilde wrote articles about more sensible clothing for women and his wife became very involved in the movement.

The modern Olympic games were established by Baron de Coubertin in 1896.

Mountain climbing: Judge Alfred Wallis who sentenced Wilde to two years hard labour was the author of one of the best mountaineering books of the nineteenth century, Wandering Among The High Alps.

Boxing was still illegal and notoriously corrupt. The Marquess of Queensberry’s rules had been drafted as long ago as the 1860s but were only really accepted in the 1890s.

Horse racing was the sport of kings, for owners, but had a large working class following among the gambling classes. In 1874 there were 130 race courses in Britain; a decade later there were half that number, all bigger and more professional.

Rise of the sporting press and specialist journals devoted to each sport and activity. And in the 1890s the first ever filming of sporting events took place…

11. Jumbo and Sundry Diversions

Freak shows, peep shows, theatrographs, dancing bears, Astley’s Theatre at the south end of Westminster Bridge. The story of Jumbo the popular trained elephant who was sold to the American showman P.T. Barnum in 1882 but refused to leave. The story of Jumbo gets nearly as much space as Jack the Ripper and maybe rightly so.

Pubs. Londoners liked drinking, many till they became fighting drunk. Hence the Temperance Movement with its pamphlets and sermons. These emphasised grisly stories of wife beating and child abuse caused by drunkenness.

Drug addition: cocaine and the opium dens of the East End docks. Detailed description of a visit to an opium den by George Augustus Sala.

At the opposite end of the social scale, the world of gentlemen’s clubs such as the Carlton, the reform, the Garrick, the Marlborough, the Guards, the Army and Navy, and the Albemarle which Wilde was a member of. Comic account of election to a club, again by Sala.

Dancing as described in The Diary of a Nobody in 1889. Magic and magicians. Street corner Houdinis.

Public trials. The Darwinian zoologist brought a prosecution against American medium Henry Slade (1876). Whistler sued Ruskin for libel in 1877. Several adultery cases in which the Prince of Wales was scandalously compelled to appear. the 1889 prosecution of a male brothel keeper in Cleveland Street (p.259). The two trials of Oscar Wilde in 1895.

12. Juliets of a Night

Pornography and prostitution. This chapter opens with photographs of nude underage girls which, if I tried to search them online let alone included in this review, would, I think, get me arrested.

The cult of ‘the little girl’, most notoriously associated with Lewis Carroll.

The authors quote Arthur Symons, Rossetti and Wilde justifying sex with prostitutes. Visitors to London could buy guides listing locations for strip tease, prostitutes, rooms to rent, ‘introducing houses’, brothels and so on. It was a major industry.

The same territory covered in immense detail in Ronald Pearsall’s huge study ‘The Worm in the Bud’ (1969) which has lots about Victorian orgies, prostitution and fetishism. The authors give a lengthy quote explaining the situation by General Booth, founder of the Salvation Army. Excerpt from a police report of officers trying to round up prostitutes, especially children.

Commentators in politics and the Church warned that young women were corrupted by their reading hence the importance of jumping on all immoral reading matter such as the novels of Thomas Hardy or the Oscar Wilde. This was twaddle then as it is now: what propels women into prostitution is poverty, desperation and drugs, or violent coercion.

It was the famous series of articles in the Pall Mall Gazette of 1885 by William Thomas Stead titled ‘The Maiden Tribute of Modern Babylon’ that led to the raising of the age of consent from 13 to 16 under The Criminal Law Amendment Act 1885 (the same act which included the Labouchère Amendment). The authors give an extended quote.

Surprisingly the European centre of child prostitution was Brussels.

Many stolen, kidnapped or betrayed English girls of 12 to 15 years were sold to Brussels brothels. (p.248)

Sometimes history just doesn’t bear thinking about. Anyway – the London Society for the Protection of Young Females founded in 1853. Quotes from evidence given to an 1881 House of Lords enquiry on the subject. Beatrice Webb’s experience going undercover among the poor.

All this segues into descriptions of the two Wilde trials with full-page illustrations from the Illustrated Police News.

Oscar Wilde’s arrest and trial from Illustrated Police News (1895)

13.Epilogue

The three-page epilogue is in the form of a summary of the debate between Tennyson and the Liberal Prime Minister William Gladstone. In 1886 Tennyson published a poem, Locksley Hall Sixty Years After, in which he claimed, in the manner of all depressed aristocrats, that the country had gone to the dogs.

Gladstone took exception to this and wrote an article for the magazine Nineteenth Century magazine in which he set out to refute every one of Tennyson’s charges, point by point, and asserting that in very measurable way – economic, social and moral, life expectancy, working hours, support for the unemployed and so on – society was vastly superior, improved and advanced to what it had been in their youths i.e. the 1830s. A choice of temperaments. An interesting conclusion to a fact-packed but popular and entertaining book.


Related reviews

The Aeneid by Virgil – books 4 to 6

‘[This is] Trojan Aeneas, famous for his devotion and his feats of arms.’
(The Sibyl defending Aeneas to Charon in Aeneid book 6, line 404)

Book 4 Dido, love and death

Dido admits to her sister, Anna, that she is falling in love with Aeneas. Anna says she has held aloof from suitors from all the neighbouring tribes, but yes, she needs to let go of her dead husband and fall in love. Encouraged by this, Dido falls madly in love. Virgil – in his Epicurean, anti-emotion way – describes it as a madness, a fever, a fire in the bones, and other alarming analogies.

Remember that in the third Georgic Virgil wrote an extended denunciation of love and sex and passion in all its forms, whether in animals or humans, as a fire and frenzy which completely derails efforts to live rationally and orderly:

Man and beast, each and every race of earth,
creatures of the sea, domesticated animals, and birds in all their finery,
all of them rush headlong into its raging fury; love’s the same for one and all.
(Georgic 3: lines 242 to 244, translated by Peter Fallon)

Venus meets with Juno. Juno suggests they let Aeneas and Dido marry, thus uniting exiled Tyrians and Trojans into a super-tribe. Venus interprets this as a transparent attempt to stop Aeneas continuing on to Italy and founding the Roman people who will, centuries hence, crush Dido’s heirs. She agrees in principle but diplomatically suggests Juno asks her husband, Jupiter, king of the gods, what he thinks. Juno outlines her plans to interrupt Dido and Aeneas’s next hunting trip, conjure up a storm, separate the lovers from their entourages, drive them into a cave and there have them consummate their love.

And this is what happens, with fire flashing and nymphs wailing from the mountaintops. For centuries of readers their love has been reinterpreted in the light of the medieval concept of courtly love and the sentimental romantic ideas which followed. But Virgil is harshly critical. Not only does this mark the beginning of the end for Dido:

This day was the beginning of her death, the first cause of all her sufferings. (4. 170)

But it had a ruinous effect on her people. When she slackened her leadership, they stopped building the city. The towers ceased to rise. The harbours and fortifications were left half-finished. All stood idle.

Virgil spends a page describing the genealogy and character of Rumour which runs fleet of foot among all men and communities spreading lies and when he describes Rumour as telling foreign rulers that Dido and Aeneas have ceased leading their people in order to wallow in lust…I immediately realise Virgil has made them Antony and Cleopatra, ‘lovers who had lost all recollection of their good name’ (4.221) which makes Creusa the emblem of Octavia, Antony’s loyal dutiful Roman wife, abandoned for an oriental whore.

The local king, Iarbas, had long harboured plans of marrying Dido so now he is infuriated that she abruptly abandoned herself to another. He offers up heartfelt angry complaints to his father, Jupiter.

Jupiter hears and is angry that Aeneas is shirking his duty. He calls Mercury and tells him to deliver an angry message to the Trojan. Is this the hero Venus promised them? Hardly. ‘He must sail. That is all there is to say.’

Mercury puts on his winged sandals, takes his caduceus and skims down through the skies to alight by Aeneas, busy helping build a temple. Mercury gets straight to it, telling Aeneas he is a disgrace by abandoning his destiny and to think about his little son who is meant to inherit leadership of a brave new race: ‘You owe him the land of Rome and the kingdom of Italy.’ (4.286)

So Aeneas immediately calls his lieutenants to him and tells them to ready the ships and the people for departure. Dido obviously hears about this and comes raging to see him, eyes blazing with anger. he tries to justify himself, but furious Dido dismisses all his excuses, calls him a traitor, mocks his stories about Jupiter this and Mercury that, then dismisses him, tells him to leave, but warns that her furious ghost will return to haunt him. (Lots of ghosts, a poem of ghosts, bringing with them the sad wisdom of the dead.)

Dido runs off into her palace, collapsing with despair. Virgil points the moral: See? This is where ‘love’ gets you:

Love is a cruel master. There are no lengths to which it does not force the human heart. (4.413)

But Aeneas, unlike Antony, is faithful to his duty (4.394) and continues preparations for departure. Dido pours her heart out to her sister, Anna, and sends her again and again with heartfelt pleas for pity or at least a delay – but the Fates forbade it and God blocked his ears to all appeals.

‘Possessed by madness’, Dido perceives all kinds of portents. Her sacrificial offerings turn black and bloody, She hears muttering at the shrine of her dead husband. She has nightmares in which she is abandoned on the African shore alone. Madness is the key word, repeated again and again.

She instructs her sister to build a big funeral pyre in the atrium of the palace where she says she will burn all Aeneas’s belongings. She attends ceremonies supervised by a terrifying priestess from Ethiopia who chants incantations to all the deities of hell.

Like all suicides Dido can’t see a way out: if she goes with Aeneas and the Trojans she will be their chattel; if she tries to persuade the entire Tyrian people to follow her they will refuse; if she stays behind she will be the laughing stock of all the tribes around who she used to treat so haughtily and will now see her humbled. No. She must die. [Virgil dramatises the logic of her thinking all too vividly.] And she reproaches herself for ever abandoning her independent single status as a widow.

Aeneas is asleep in the stern of a ship but he has a terrifying dream vision of ‘the god’ who warns him not to wait, but to leave now before morning comes and Dido comes to talk him out of leaving or to burn his ships. He wakes and wakes his men, they weight anchor and depart.

Dido waking with the dawn sees the sea covered with their ships and the harbour empty and delivers a magnificent harangue cursing Aeneas mightily and ends with an actual curse, invoking all the gods to ensure Aeneas in his new homeland never enjoys it, but is harried by a strong race, and driven from his own land, and beg for help and see his people dying. Let him die before his time and lie unburied on the sand. And may undying enmity be between her people and his (obviously referring to the legendary enmity which grew up between Rome and Carthage in the 3rd and 2nd centuries BC).

Then she climbs onto the pyre she has prepared, delivers another magnificent speech about her destiny and her good intentions and plunges upon Aeneas’s sword and her blood foams out. Her serving women see and a great wailing spreads across the city as if the enemy were within and destroying everything (exactly as they had at Troy: repetitions and echoes).

Her sister Anna comes running, cursing herself for not realising this is what her sister really wanted the pyre built for and recriminating Dido for not waiting or sharing her death. She climbs atop the pyre and holds her sister as three times she tries to rise on her elbow but collapses and then expires.

Thus Dido died ‘in a sudden blaze of madness’ and Juno took pity and sent Iris down to loosen the binding of her soul. And so Iris descends as a rainbow through the sky and alights on the pyre and cuts a lock of Dido’s hair and thus releases her soul from its anguish.

God, surely this is the most magnificent and moving book ever written! It is breathtakingly powerful, cuts deep, and yet is short, just 23 pages in the Penguin edition, with not an ounce of fat, nothing verbose or long-winded or tiresome, but fast-moving, alert and to the point, fiercely and deeply imagined, and transcendently moving!

Book 5 Funeral games

Another storm hits, forcing them ashore back in Sicily, in the port run by his brother Eryx, where the bones of his father Anchises are buried. They are greeted by Acestes, half Trojan. The months pass until it is a full year since Anchises died and was buried. Aeneas leads sacrifices and ceremonies at his tomb.

Then he holds grand funeral games. First a boat race across the sea to a prominent rock and back. Then a running race. Then boxing matches. All are described in loving (and surprisingly exciting) detail. An arrow shooting competition and then equipage, horse management by the young contemporaries of Ascanius. They young cavalry perform a mock battle. Virgil explains how Ascanius will pass this on to his descendants and eventually it will be performed in Rome by youthful cavalry and called the lusus Troiae.

For the first time Virgil associates specific companions of Aeneas with the patrician Roman families they will establish (Mnestheus giving his name to the Memmii family, Sergestus the Sergii, Cloanthus the Cluentii [5.120], Atys founder of the Atii [5.569]).

The games are then officially ended but meanwhile the wretched women of Troy, fed up with seven years wandering over the endless ocean, rebel. Juno, font of endless schemes against Aeneas, sends Iris in disguise of one of their number to rouse them to indignation and insist that they sail no further but settle here on Sicily. Possessed by divine fury, they seize brands from the various altars and throw them into the Trojan ships.

The men quickly drop their games and rush to the beach just as the goddess leaves the women’s minds and, coming to their senses, the realise what they’ve done and run off into the woods and hills. Aeneas stares at his burning fleet and calls on Jupiter to save what little remains – at which there is a sudden torrential downpour. Most of the ships are saved but four are write-offs.

Aeneas is downhearted. But old Nautes gives good advice: he says Aeneas and the young and fit must continue on to Italy; but leave here on Sicily the old men, the women worn out by the sea, the ‘heart-weary’. Let them build a city and call it Acesta.

Still, Aeneas is worried and careworn when the ghost of his father slides down through the dark. He reinforces Nautes’ advice to leave the old and sick here on Sicily and only take the young and strong with him to Italy for there, as he has been told quite a few times by now, he will have to overcome ‘a wild and strong people’.

But Anchises tells him something new. First he will have to go down into Dis, the underworld, to meet his spirit there. He will be helped through the doorway to hell by a Sibyll. There he will learn about all the descendants who are to follow him. Then, like so many of his visions, he disappears into thin air like smoke.

Aeneas, as is his wont, goes straight into action (as he did after the god told him to leave Carthage immediately). For nine days he helps the people they’re leaving behind lay out the boundaries of the new city, build a forum, ordain laws and erect a temple to Venus, building a mini-Troy.

Then they say their farewells, make the sacrifices and oblations, and set sail, with a fair wind and rowing. Cut to Venus visiting Neptune god of the sea and bewailing Juno’s unending spite against the Trojans and beseeching Neptune to take pity on them. Neptune reminds her how he protected Aeneas when Achilles was running mad in front of Troy, and promises fair seas.

All the mortals see is the appearance of a clear sky and fair winds and they set sail for Italy with good heart. Thus Virgil shows us, behind every physical event, especially large scale ones like the weather, storms, shooting stars, erupting volcanoes and so on, the direct involvement of the gods. The gods are the environment through which mortals walk, purblind and ignorant.

And Palinurus, the loyal helmsman who has always given the best advice – the god of sleep wafts down from heaven, taps him on the temples with a stick dripping with water from the rivers Lethe and the Styx (rivers of the underworld), Palinurus is plunged into a deep sleep and the god of sleep chucks him overboard where he drowns down down down into the blue ocean.

Noticing something wrong, Aeneas goes astern and discovers his top helmsman has fall overboard, and blames him for trusting to a calm sea. But, as we know, it is not his fault. Like all mortals, there is nothing he can do to resist the whims of the gods.

Half way through the book I am noticing:

  • how many visions, ghosts, dream visitations, spectral appearances and just as sudden disappearances there are
  • by extension, the way there are few if any conversations, but rather great block chunks of speeches
  • the enormous amount of sacrifices – so many bullocks slaughtered, so many entrails, so much steaming gore

Book 6 The underworld

They make land at Cumae (according to Wikipedia ‘the first ancient Greek colony on the mainland of Italy, founded by settlers from Euboea in the 8th century BC and soon becoming one of the strongest colonies.’) Aeneas makes to the citadel with its huge temple of Apollo, and a vast cave, retreat of ‘the awesome Sibyl’. On the doors of the temple are depicted scenes from legend including the story of the Minotaur. For legend has it that this is where Daedalus touched down after making wings for himself to escape from captivity in Crete.

The daughter of the high priest tells them to make animal sacrifices then come with her. She is suddenly possessed by the go and tells Aeneas to pray. Aeneas delivers a page-long supplication to the god Apollo to have mercy on his people.

The priestess fights against the god but finally he possesses her and delivers his prophecy to Aeneas. They have finished their travels by sea. But what awaits them by land will be worse.

I see wars, deadly wars, I see the Thybris foaming with torrents of blood. (6.86)

Immigration

This line was notoriously quoted out of context by the British politician Enoch Powell in his virulently anti-immigration speech of April 1968. Reading it here, I realise there’s a political irony here, because this speech, about bloodshed, isn’t addressed to the native people, warning them against immigrants – Aeneas is the immigrant. He is the one arriving in a strange land and it is his god-inspired conviction that he’s owed a living and a future here which brings bloodshed and war.

Women’s wombs

Anyway, the god goes on to predict he must face ‘a second Achilles’. More interestingly, he warns that ‘Once again the cause of all this Trojan suffering will be a foreign bride’ – just as the entire Trojan war was fought over Helen (and just as the action of the Iliad is triggered by a squabble between Agamemnon and Achilles about who should be assigned a slave girl they captured at a raid on an outlying temple). The rightful ownership of women, and their reproductive capacity, is the core cause of these wars between violent men. Next to ownership of the land and its food-producing capacity, comes ownership of women and their baby-producing capacity. It is as primitive as that.

Madness

The visionary state in which the priestess speaks Apollo’s words is described as ‘madness’. Did Virgil use the same word for this as for the ‘madness’ of Dido? In which case it weakens the rhetoric of his argument against love and passion. If so, is it the same word he used for the ‘madness’ of the Trojan women who set fire to the ships in Sicily (5.660, 670)? In which case, is he making the point that a certain kind of madness is restricted to, or characteristic of, women?

Aeneas begs the Sibyl to allow him to go down into hell to see his father. The Sibyl warns the way down is easy, it’s the coming back that’s difficult. When the Sibyl warns that undertaking such a journey is ‘the labour of madness‘ I begin to see frenzy, insanity and madness as being a recurring theme or motif of the poem.

The Sibyl tells him a) there is a dead man lying unburied which is polluting the fleet; he must find and bury him and perform the rituals b) there is a tree in a dark grove which bears a golden bough; he must pluck it and carry it down to hell to please Queen Proserpina; but only the favoured of the gods can find it or pluck it.

Aeneas leaves, accompanied by his faithful friend Achates, and on the shore above the tideline they discover the body of Misenus. He had engaged in a horn blowing competition with a Triton who drowned him. So the Trojans chop down a load of trees (whose species Virgil carefully lists) to build a shrine and altar. While doing so Aeneas prays for help in finding the grove of the golden bough and his mother Venus sends two white doves who lead him to the tree.

He plucks the golden bough, presents it to the Sibyl, who insists on numerous more rites and sacrifices and then leads him down into hell, taking him past a checklist of the florid monsters who guard the gates, centaurs, scyllas, chimera, gorgons, harpies and so on.

Dante

I can see why Virgil was such a model for Dante in terms of format. Aeneas spots individuals among the various crowds (such as the crowd waiting to be ferried by Charon across the Styx), asks them a question, and the other briefly tells his story, explaining why he’s ended up here. This is more or less the recurring format for the entire Divine Comedy.

So Aeneas sees Palinurus, quizzes him, and Palinurus tells him his sad fate – he was not drowned after all, but swam to shore where he was murdered by ruffians. He begs to be allowed to cross the river; the sibyl says this is not possible till his body is given a decent burial; the sibyl reassures him that the people who live near his corpse will be driven by signs from heaven to find it and give it a decent burial

This entire story of Palinurus seems designed to evoke a sweet sadness, as we observe his grief, his regrets, Aeneas’s grief for him, their manly love for each other – commander and staunch helmsman – who met a cruel fate through no fault of his own. The Palinurus story encapsulates Virgil’s pity for suffering humanity. Seeing the great tide of woeful humanity waiting on the river bank, ‘the helpless souls of the unburied’, Aeneas ‘pitied their cruel fate.’

The hell sequence is packed with mythological details (three-headed Cerberus etc), but it is the human moments which strike home, not least his encounter with the shade of Dido. Till this moment he wasn’t sure what became of her but now he realises the rumours were true and she killed herself. He fulsomely apologises, saying he was driven on by the command of the gods, but she won’t even look at him, stands silent, then wafts away to be with her first, murdered, husband, grief speaking to grief.

In Wilfred Owen’s famous preface to his war poems he said ‘the poetry is in the pity’. Well, there is poetry in every aspect of this magnificent poem, but the consistent underlying tone of the Aeneid is heartfelt pity at the sad and tragic plight of humanity.

There is an awesome description of their walk through hell while the aged priestess of Apollo explains the variety and ingenuity of the punishments for all who have broken the laws of gods and men, including the shades of all the Greeks and the Trojans who fought and died during the recent war. Then they come to the home of the blessed: here there is singing and games, poets, leading up to the great Musaeus, who tells Aeneas where to find his father.

Aeneas is reunited with the spirit of his father. He goes to embrace him three times (the rule of three; just as Aeneas tried to embrace the ghost of Creusa three times, 2.792) but, like Creusa, Anchises is soft as the wind (6.700). But he can speak. He is delighted to see his son and then explains how some souls in the afterlife are purged of their earthly memories and returned to the primeval fire which first began the universe; but others buzz round Elysium for a thousand years and then are sent back to inhabit new bodies on earth. In other words, reincarnation.

He leads Aeneas and the Sibyl to a slight mound in the plain and predicts the long line of Aeneas’s descendants who will make Rome and Italy great. Reincarnation seems very unGreek but then, if his prime aim was to have scene where Aeneas is shown all his descendants, it’s hard to see how else this could have been achieved. The souls of famous men had to be available before they were born in order for Aeneas to review them. The more you think about it, the weirder it becomes.

Anchises points out Aeneas’s descendants starting with his posthumous son, Silvius who will be followed by Procas, Capys, Numitor, Silvius Aeneas, founders of Alba Longa and other settlements. Then Romulus founder of Rome ‘whose empire shall cover the earth’.

Then Anchises turns to the Caesar, mentioning Julius Caesar (remote descendant of Iulus, or Ascanius, Aeneas’s son). Then follows the famous hymn to Augustus Caesar, son of a god, who will bring back the golden years of the age of Saturn, who will extend the borders of the empire to the edge of the known world, who will achieve more than Hercules or Bacchus. Is that enough brown-nosing?

Rather anachronistically, Anchises goes back to recount the line of kings who ruled Rome, before switching to heroes of the early Republic, the Brutus who drove out the Tarquins, others who invented the consulship, Cato the Elder, the Gracchi, the two Scipios, Fabius Maximus, great figures from Roman history. And then some sternly patriotic rhetoric:

Your task, Romans, and do not forget it, will be to govern the peoples of the world in your empire. These will be your arts – and to impose a settled pattern upon peace, to pardon the defeated and war down the proud. (6.851)

Then Anchises delivers a page-long lament for a young man they see accompanying Marcellus on his triumph. This is Marcus Claudius Marcellus (42 to 23 BC), nephew of Augustus and his closest male relative, who enjoyed an accelerated political career and was married to Augustus’s daughter, Julia. But he died of an infection which swept through Italy (Augustus got it but recovered) dashing Augustus’s hopes of making him his heir. So it seems likely that this extended passage in praise of young Marcellus was written just after his death in 23 BC, in order to please Virgil’s patron, the great Augustus.

David West, the translator of the Penguin Classics edition of the Aeneid, devotes a 3-page appendix to this section, the procession of Roman heroes, giving brief descriptions of all the eminent Romans who feature in it. He mentions the story, recorded in a near-contemporary biography of Virgil, that when he was reading his poem to Augustus and his family, his sister – Octavia (mother of Marcellus) – fainted at this passage. It’s worth repeating this anecdote to emphasise just how direct and personal Augustus’s relationship with Virgil was, and therefore, by extension, with much of the content of the poem.

After the long passage of praise for Marcellus the last few sentences of the book are an anti-climax. Virgil tells us that Anchises told Aeneas about the entire future course of events, his war against the Laurentines, how he should maximise his fate.

Aeneas’s return through hell, crossing back over the Styx, climbing back up to the entrance to the great cavern – all this isn’t even described. Instead all we get is a short, abrupt sentence saying that Aeneas made his way back to his ships and his comrades, then steered a straight course to the harbour of Caieta, where they dropped anchor.

It’s an oddly abrupt ending to one of the most magnificent and influential books of poetry ever written.

Epithets of Aeneas

I’ve slowly been realising that, as the poem progresses, Aeneas comes to be accompanied by more and more adjectives. I mean that, in the early books, he is mostly plain ‘Aeneas’. But it’s noticeable that, certainly by book 6, his name rarely occurs without being accompanied by an adjective indicating his greatness. By this sly method, Virgil implies the way Aeneas grows in stature, experience and leadership as the adventures continue. I’d noticed the same happening to Anchises who, in the earlier books, comes to be referred to more and more frequently as Father Anchises. When he dies the title passes quietly to Aeneas, Father Aeneas, sometimes referred to as ‘the son of Anchises’, and then the epithets begin to occur more frequently:

  • the leader of the Trojans (4.165)
  • the son of Anchises (5.424)
  • the great-hearted son of Anchises
  • Father Aeneas (5.461)
  • dutiful Aeneas (6.233)
  • devout Aeneas (5.685, 12.175)
  • the hero Aeneas (6.103)
  • huge Aeneas (6.413)
  • great glory of our Troy (6.547)
  • Aeneas, greatest of warriors (9.41)
  • great Aeneas (10.159)

Roman reviews

The Taylor Wessing Photographic Portrait Prize 2018 @ the National Portrait Gallery

Always look on the bleak side of life

Rule one is that, in modern photography, it is forbidden to smile. Photographing anyone smiling instantly leads to your cameras being confiscated. Photographing anyone laughing leads to instant banishment.

Grifton from the series Perfect Strangers by Nigel Clarke © Nigel ClarkeGrifton from the series Perfect Strangers by Nigel Clarke © Nigel Clarke

Grifton from the series Perfect Strangers by Nigel Clarke © Nigel Clarke

Photography is a serious business. Life is all about being isolated and alienated. A tragic affair. None of the sitters in the 57 photographic portraits on show in the Taylor Wessing Photographic Portrait Prize 2018 is smiling, let alone laughing. Most have expressions of mute despair, sullen passivity, stare plaintively at the camera or mournfully off into the distance.

Portrait of Marta Weiss and her daughter Penelope from the series Artfully Dressed: Women in the Art World by Carla van de Puttelaar 2017 © Carla van de Puttelaar

Portrait of Marta Weiss and her daughter Penelope from the series Artfully Dressed: Women in the Art World by Carla van de Puttelaar 2017 © Carla van de Puttelaar

Remember that awful movie, Dumb and Dumber. This is a display of Serious and Seriouser.

Greta and Guenda by Guen Fiore © Guen Fiore

Greta and Guenda by Guen Fiore © Guen Fiore

Teenagers are good, because they come with built-in sulkiness (which, as the owner of two teenagers, I know only too well).

Eimear by Trisha Ward 2017 © Trisha Ward

Eimear by Trisha Ward 2017 © Trisha Ward

A number of the sitters are actually crying, this guy because he’s just been given a beating in a kids’ boxing competition. Yes, life is a tragic business.

Runner Up from the series Double Jab ABC Show by Sawm Wright 2017 © Sam Wright

Runner Up from the series ‘Double Jab ABC Show’ by Sam Wright 2017 © Sam Wright

I wonder if anyone submits photos of people smiling, laughing, joking or having fun, and the judges systematically weed them all out to produce this uniformly glum set of portraits. Or whether clued-up entrants know from their photography courses (by far the majority of snappers in the competition have degrees in photography) that happiness is not art.

Africa

It’s a shame the selection on display makes such a cumulatively negative and depressing impact because, taken individually, there are lots of absolutely brilliant photos here.

And the locations, ages and types of sitter are pretty varied and interesting. It’s true that, as last year, there is a heavy bias towards British photographers (over half) and Americans (about 10 out of 57). But they get around a lot – especially to Africa, which was the setting for a brilliant couple of photos by Joey Lawrence.

Portrait of 'Strong' Joe Smart from, the series Tombo's Wound by Joey Lawrence © Joey Lawrence

Portrait of ‘Strong’ Joe Smart from the series Tombo’s Wound by Joey Lawrence © Joey Lawrence

This portrait won third prize. Another image which drew me further in the more I looked, was of a teenager called Sarah in Uganda, photographed by Dan Nelken.

Sarah, aged 13, carries a five gallon jerrycan of water home three times a day from the series the Women of Rutal Uganda by Dan Nelken © Dan Nelken

Sarah, aged 13, carries a five gallon jerrycan of water home three times a day from the series The Women of Rural Uganda by Dan Nelken © Dan Nelken

In fact, the winning photo was one of a series by Alice Mann taken of drum majorettes in South Africa.

Keisha Ncube, Cape Town, South Africa 2017 from the series Drummies by Alice Mann © Alice Mann

Keisha Ncube, Cape Town, South Africa 2017 from the series Drummies by Alice Mann © Alice Mann

About 24 of the 64 or so sitters featured in the photos are black. Precisely 32, half the sitters, are white.

Stories

The three photos above, and the suggestive titles of the series which they’re from, raises the matter of the stories behind the photos.

Because the exhibition doesn’t just show 57 photos cold – each one comes with two wall labels, one telling us quite a bit of biography about each photographer (like the fact that most of them are British and most of them have studied photography at university or art college).

And another, often quite lengthy label, telling us about the sitter and the circumstances behind the photo. In some cases these stories are more interesting and thought-provoking than the photos themselves. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but sometimes a thousand words can say as much or more than a picture.

Take the first of the three black kids, above: we learn that the photo of ‘Strong’ Joe Smart was made in the remote village of Tombohuaun in the Eastern Province of Sierra Leone where Joey Lawrence (Canadian b.1989, self taught) was working with the charity WaterAid. It interested me to learn that Joe had made this mask while playing with his mates, and in between shots mucked about and giggled. It says a lot for the aesthetic of modern photography that no photos were taken of these high spirits. Instead he is depicted like a Victorian angel staring sensitively and seriously into the philosophical distance.

The photo of Keisha Ncube, a nine-year-old drum majorette, is by Alice Mann (b.1991 South Africa, studied photography at the University of Cape Town). It’s one of a set of four on show here (from a much bigger series) all of which are composed beautifully and taken with pin-point digital clarity. The wall label explains how many of these girls come from very poor backgrounds but how saving up for, or making, the costumes, and taking part in the activities gives them a strong sense of dignity and self worth.

Similarly, the photo of Sarah, aged 13, carrying a five-gallon jerrycan of water on her head is a strong image to begin with but gains immeasurably from learning more about the village and her background. The photographer, Dan Nelkin, was born in 1949 in New York.

Unsmiling kids

I counted 64 people in the 57 photos, of whom 31 are children (plus two babies).

Kids give you instant pathos. Especially if you tell them to stop smiling, laughing and fooling around, stand still and look mournful. The wall label explains that Lo Pò (b.1979 studied photography at the London College of Communication) had spent a long frustrating day trying to photograph a racehorse in Sardinia, packed it in and went for a meal at a local pizzeria. Coming out he spotted this pale freckled girl playing with friends. He asked her parents if he could photograph her and placed her against the warm plaster wall which brings out the tones in her skin and hair. It’s an amazing and striking photograph. But it did make me laugh that the first thing the photographer did was stop her playing with her friends. Now, now, none of that laughing and smiling: this is art! Instead she is carefully posed in the soulful, intense, rather numb expression which is the visual style of our age.

Girl outside the pizzeria at night by Andy Lo Pò 2017 © Andy Lo Pò

Girl outside the pizzeria at night by Andy Lo Pò 2017 © Andy Lo Pò

Charlie Forgham-Bailey (b.1989, based London, studied French and Philosophy at uni) is represented by a set of four photos of boy footballers, who were taking part in the Danone World Cup four unsmiling, stern looking young dudes.

Ditto this photo of ‘Rishai’, snapped by Meredith Andrews, sitting sternly unsmiling on his bike. ‘Don’t smile kid – this is art!’

Rishai from the series After School by Meredith Andrews © Meredith Andrews

Rishai from the series After School by Meredith Andrews © Meredith Andrews

Two particular photos of kids take the art of seriousness to new levels; by Richard Ansett (b.1966), they are from two series, one titled After the Attack (The Manchester bombing) showing a teenager in her bedroom who witnessed the bombing and has had difficulty leaving her house, since; and one titled Children of Grenfell, whose subject matter you can probably guess.

Old people

But it isn’t just kids who can look grim and unsmiling. Images of old people, the more vulnerable the better, can always be relied on for instant pathos.

Nan, Hafen Dag Sheltered Scheme, Mid Glamorgan from the series Old Age Doesn't Come By Itself by Rhiannon Adam 2017 © Rhiannon Adam

Nan, Hafen Dag Sheltered Scheme, Mid Glamorgan from the series Old Age Doesn’t Come By Itself by Rhiannon Adam 2017 © Rhiannon Adam

Even famous old people. There’s a dazzling photo of Hollywood legend Christopher Walken (although can anyone name a movie he’s been in since the Deer Hunter?) Against a jet black background, his aged haunted face looms pale and haunted. It’s fascinating to learn that the session took only a few minutes, the photographer Anoush Abrar (b.1976 Tehran, masters degree in photography) setting up, just the two of them in the room, the photos taking just moments to take.

Christopher Walken by Anoush Abrar 2018 © Anoush Abrar

Christopher Walken by Anoush Abrar 2018 © Anoush Abrar

Katherine Hamnett is featured. Who? The fashion designer who hit the headlines way back in 1984 when she was invited to meet the Prime Minister, Mrs Thatcher, and wore a white t-shirt of her down design emblazoned with the words ‘58% don’t want Pershing’ referring to Ronald Reagan’s siting of cruise missiles at Greenham Common. Ah, I remember it well. So I was a little surprised to see that she’s still alive, not so surprised to learn that she’s spent a lot of the intervening 34 years making more t-shirts with ‘political’ slogans on them, and not in the slightest bit surprised that the latest one is anti-Brexit photo by Pedro Alvarez (b.1972 took a degree in photography at Blackpool Uni).

Katharine Hamnett by Pedro Alvarez 2018 © Pedro Alvarez

Katharine Hamnett by Pedro Alvarez 2018 © Pedro Alvarez

Ordinary adults

But most people aren’t babies, kids, teenagers or pensioners. Most people belong to the age range 18 to 65. But this age group, what you might call ordinary everyday people, the kind you go into a work environment and see, or see on the Tube at rush hour.

In contrast to serious children, sensitive artists and sad old people I liked some of the photos of blokes. Here’s a geezer, Conor, with his dog Levi, snapped by Tom Cockram (b.1986, BS Hons in photography from Manchester Metropolitan University).

Conor and Levi from the series British Boxing by Tom Cockram 2018 © Tom Cockram

Conor and Levi from the series British Boxing by Tom Cockram 2018 © Tom Cockram

The more I looked at this, the more I liked it, though it took a while to figure out why. First, the subject does not fill the frame (compare and contrast with all the images, above). He is set in a landscape, which just makes it visually more interesting. And the landscape itself is intriguing, the way the heavy mist obscures the trees on the horizon, and teases you to try and decipher the types of buildings behind them – hotel, council estate, I think that’s a petrol station on the right. And then there’s the visual relation between one man and his dog, the way the sloped back of the politely sitting dog makes a line which, if you extended it, would touch the man’s head, in other words together they form a triangle, hidden, concealed in the photo, but which, I think, subtly gives it a unity of composition.

Also featuring a bit more background than usual, and an intriguing one at that, is this photo of a ‘guest at a graduation party’ by Adam Hinton (b.1965).

Guest at a graduation party by Adam Hinton 2018 © Adam Hinton

Guest at a graduation party by Adam Hinton 2018 © Adam Hinton

The wall label tells us that Hinton had travelled to Plovdiv in Bulgaria to document the largest Roma community in Europe and came across a party celebrating the graduation of several young women from the local university.

I liked this photo because it is not of a serious-looking child, nor of a frail and vulnerable old lady, nor of a high-minded liberal fashionista. It captures the spirit and culture of the huge number of people across Europe, who aren’t educated, don’t read new novels, go to the opera or art galleries, who just make a living trading horses, dealing in scrap metal, working as seasonal labourers, fixing up cars, running second hand TV shops, men who try to do the best for their wives and kids, and on special occasions dress up in bling and greased hair.

It reminded me of some of the photos I’ve seen at the Calvert 22 Foundation, which focuses on art and photography from East European countries, or the absolutely brilliant photos of men and landscapes around the Black Sea taken by Vanessa Winship and featured in a recent exhibition at the Barbican.

I liked all these because they are unusual.

By contrast when I read that one of the photographers on display here had set off on a 1,000 mile roadtrip round America on a Harley Davidson bike, photographing the weird and eccentric people she met, my heart sank. If I never see another black and white photo of weird and kooky, provincial, backwoods, redneck characters from America, it will be soon.

Rinko Kawauchi

There is absolutely no requirement for the exhibition as a whole to be representative of everything. I just like counting, noting data sets, trends, numbers. My day job is a data analyst for a government agency.

Thus I couldn’t help noticing the complete absence of images from India or China which, between them, have 2.7 billion people, 38% of the world’s population. Also because I’m still savouring the exhibition of works by Vasantha Yogananthan at the Photographers’ Gallery. It’s a big country, India. Lots of people. Very colourful. Not here at all (there is one photo of a British Sikh).

I wonder why. Don’t Indians apply? Do Westerners not go looking for colourful subjects in India any more (as they obviously still do in Africa, from the evidence here)?

A country which was specifically represented was Japan, in the form of a special feature – a wall of eleven works by Japanese photographer Rinko Kawauchi. Kawauchi’s work came to prominence with the simultaneous publication of three books: Hanako (a documentary of a young girl of the same name), Hanabi (which translates as ‘fireworks’) and Utatane (a Japanese word that describes the state between wakefulness and sleep. In 2002 Kawauchi was awarded the Kimura-Ihei-Prize, Japan’s most important emerging talent photography prize, following the publication of her first photobooks.

Her photos are about delicacy. She shoots in a way which lets in so much light that the photos are almost over-exposed, have a milky misty quality. And her subject appears to be the everyday life of her family – ‘small events glimpsed in passing’ – including a couple of striking images of adults holding a tiny, tiny baby.

Untitled by Rinko Kawauchi

Untitled by Rinko Kawauchi


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