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.

 

In a Dorset Hollow Way (Part Two)

The soft sandstone sides of the Shutes Lane Hollow Way have become a home for rural graffiti, much of which follows familiar formulae but the exceptions are intriguing.  Interestingly there’s virtually no sex or politics to be seen.  Names and initials are present in great numbers as are images of eyes (evil and all-seeing) and hearts, most of which are simple incisions. Many have been scratched in haste while some display an interest in more finished letter forms with serifs and downstrokes.  A few have taken the time to record aphorisms and more enigmatic text elements.  The images of human heads fall broadly into three categories - simple incisions, basic formal modelling and complex modelling with spatial recession.  Examples of non-human heads are usually non-specific while reflecting the visual clichés of the horror genre.  I have been told I missed the single example of an unambiguously female head but many are gender non-specific.  Homer Simpson makes two appearances alongside Stewie from Family Guy but nobody else can easily be recognised.  More than a few share the characteristics of Outsider Art and communicate a genuine sense of human despair with conviction on a sliding scale from expressions of mild despondency to an existential scream of desperation drawn from the inorganic depths.  There are expressionless eyes that appear to stare back at us as if they’ve been witnesses to unimaginable terrors and mouths that exhale the odour of brimstone. Then there are those that promise more than they can deliver - hours of hard labour carving out an emblem of terror and ending up with something faintly comic.  Happiest of all are the unambitious mark makers whose scratchy efforts have a light charm. Finally - a salute to the five-legged elephant.

 

In a Dorset Hollow Way (Part One)

The existence of Hollow Ways (aka Sunken Lanes) has long been a source of fascination to scholars of the countryside.  Ancient trackways where centuries of human and livestock traffic together with floodwaters and natural erosion have embedded their presence deep in the rural topography.  Exposed tree roots and ferns cling to the steep sides of the pathway as it passes through an arboreal overhead canopy that filters the sunlight.  They form most readily in areas where the underlying geology is least resistant such as chalk downland or greensand. The county of Dorset has many examples, of which one of the best known is Shutes Lane on the Symondsbury Estate to the west of Bridport.

The cumulative effect of atmospheric stillness, dappled, contrasting light effects, luxuriant vegetation, a sense of enclosure and the visual drama of the craggy exposed and weathered geology is enough to stir the spirit of the most materialist explorer.  For those of a more Romantic disposition it can be a starting point for all manner of fantastical imaginings and mysterious speculations - the presence of faeries, piskeys and elvish folk can be felt, forever just outside the field of visibility.  An alert student of landscape formation will be intrigued by the tactile record of the passage of time measured in centuries - a record more easily read and understood than elsewhere.  With the relentless expansion of agri-business and agri-chemicals leading to depleted natural habitats and the irretrievable loss of species diversity, exacerbated by extreme weather events, a new sense of urgency has typified recent literature on the countryside and unsurprisingly writers have turned their attention to the survival of England’s Hollow Ways as places largely untouched by the mixed blessings of scientific advancement.

Walking the mudslides of Shutes Lane in winter can be heavy going but a month without rain has baked the surface of the path to the point that passing feet are grinding it into dust.  The sheer scale of it is impressive, massively exceeding others I’ve seen in Somerset and Devon, giving it the appearance of a chasm or canyon. We had the company of three grandchildren under 6 and they walked more than 4 miles without a mutiny.  What held their attention was the multiple hand carvings made in the soft sandstone of surpassing eccentricity which will be the subject of Part Two of this post.

 

Chalk Figures

England has a sizeable collection of chalk figures incised on the nation’s hillsides.  Born of the enduring desire to leave a mark on the landscape, especially in areas where an underlying layer of chalk can easily be exposed. Horses greatly outnumber human figures and only one, the Uffington White Horse in Oxfordshire is accepted by all authorities as being of ancient origin.  There’s no agreement on the age of Uffington - Bronze Age, Romano-British and Early Modern are among existing theories.  Best known of the human figures are the Wilmington Long Man in East Sussex and the Cerne Abbas Giant in Dorset.  The Long Man, grasping his two staves was a popular subject for postcards while the Cerne Abbas Giant disqualified himself from this role by publicly exhibiting his abnormal state of arousal.  The earliest recorded date for the Long Man is 1710 which makes him either a lot older or much younger than the Cerne Abbas Giant according to which of the many competing theories you subscribe to.  Some speculate that the Long Man originally sported male genitalia and that at some time in the past they were removed in the name of public decency.  If he had been spared this fate then his postcard career would never have begun.  The majority of chalk figures date from the last 250 years.  The Westbury White Horse is recorded as having been restored in 1778 to its present contours but there’s no reliable evidence of the existence of an earlier figure.  King George III was a frequent visitor to Weymouth, boosting its profile as a holiday resort in the process and in 1808 the grateful citizens had his equestrian figure inscribed on a nearby hillside at the village of Osmington. Eric Ravilious was one of several artists from the interwar years who took a fresh look at the English landscape and the ways in which it was formed by human intervention.  Chalk figures made repeat appearances in his work and included those at Westbury, Wilmington and Osmington to great effect.

 

Weymouth Harbour Tramway 1994

Twenty years to the day have passed since these photos were taken on this date in 1994. This special train, which originated at Waterloo, was conveying US Veterans of the Second World War and the invasion of Normandy to the quayside at Weymouth as part of the 50th. anniversary of D-Day commemorations. A US aircraft carrier was moored offshore and landing craft were on hand to re-enact troop landings on the beach. Until 1987 there were regular trains on this route taking passengers to the Channel Island ferries at the Town Quay. After 1987 only special trains or charter trains for enthusiasts made the journey. Most of the route is along the public highway and trains were preceded by railway staff with flags to ensure the track was free of obstructions. Motorists were especially affronted at having to yield road space to an inferior form of transport. This kind of street-running is common in the US but in Britain it’s very unusual. Railway administrators hate anomalies and there have been many attempts to close it down. In the end it has been allowed to wither away – no train has passed since 1999 and it’s impossible to envisage another doing so in future. The spectacle of these full size trains inching their way through the back streets of Weymouth is unlikely to be repeated. Unsurprisingly, on the day of the special train the locomotive broke down on the return trip and after a long delay a replacement was procured to take it on its weary way.