Seaside Photographer at Work

Between the wars every seaside town and resort would have at least one photographic business that specialised in selling visitors their photographic likenesses.  With large plate cameras they would record the departure of every charabanc tour and have prints of the participants ready for them to purchase on their return.  Others would haunt the esplanades and deck chairs taking photos on spec in the hope of selling prints later.  Often they would hand a docket to their subjects with a reference number and an address where the finished prints could be purchased. Another strategy was to gather the largest possible crowd of trippers at a point where a camera could record the scene from an elevated position.  They were then directed to a nearby shop where prints were on sale in less than hour.  The legal right to a week’s paid holiday was only established by the Holidays with Pay Act of 1938 but since the 1870s major employers had been closing factories and mills annually for a week enabling the workforce the luxury of an unpaid summer holiday commensurate with whatever they had saved during the winter. So there was no shortage of customers for the photographer’s services and photos like this must survive in hundreds of thousands if not millions.

What’s especially fascinating is the high definition that the plate camera supplied, leaving us with images that reward close scrutiny with remarkable clarity of detail. A rich variety of physical types and expressions turn up alongside a wealth of information about contemporary fashion trends. I counted only 16 hatless adults in this image. This camera confronts a mostly happy multitude of holidaymakers, it’s undated (the time is inscribed as 6.45pm) but on the reverse is the address of a Bournemouth photographic studio by the name of Bailey. Bournemouth with its origin as a Spa resort cultivated an image of respectability reflected in its Invalid’s Walk and the Russell-Cotes Art Gallery while they made the most of endorsements from the likes of Thomas Hardy and JRR Tolkien.  Many proud fathers, often in collar and tie, hold their offspring high for the camera and there’s an air of prosperity apparent in many other faces suggesting that the middle class is well represented here.  These aren’t the sort of people you might see on a Jarrow Hunger March.

A few details are selected here - faces that jump out of the crowd, some that are almost instantly recognisable, others that look like nobody we’ve ever seen before. There’s no lack of traditional British grumpiness to be seen but there’s also an impressive level of equanimity and good cheer - testament to the healing powers of a day at the seaside. These were the last decades of White British domination - pre-diversity Britain. After the war this would begin to change and a new and very different pattern of ethnicity arrived on the scene.  People who came to Britain because Britain had come to them.