Order Out Of Chaos - Richard Billingham
"It is not my intention to shock, to offend, sensationalize, be political or whatever, only to make work that is as spiritually meaningful as I can make it - whatever the medium" Richard Billingham's photography of his own family in their home in Cradley Heath, Birmingham shows an overloaded history and detailed insight into his life as a young boy.
His photos, which initially brought him fame, show a grim stain of stark interiors and the private challenges of his everyday life, but interestingly his work is not a social comment, but more of an old-fashioned means of creating images.
Whereas the message I attempt to send is a comment on the society we live in, it intrigues me that Billingham does not chase this same incentive when his images are so readily understandable and matter-of-fact.
"I was just trying to make order out of chaos" Ray's A Laugh, published in 2000 is the photographic revelation of Richard's dad Ray a full-time alcoholic whose behavior pushed many frustrations onto his wife and children for several years, until Richard moved to Sunderland to complete a degree and managed to escape the tragic, yet aesthetically brilliant lifestyle.
American Suburb X describes the book as a 'tour-du-snapshot force of voyeurism and realism', as it portrays both his skills and talent but also the ugly spirit that lingers around the family home.
These images of an alcohol-fueled father, heavily obese yet nurturing mother and a vacant space of where his brother should be are instantly repelling to the viewer; however they are compelling in their own right.
It is not a typical idealized family portrait but it is truth.
There is a sadness in the images, there is no sign of hope or a need to move forward, but there is also beauty as Billingham has managed to capture the true essence of what he had always known, the comfortable lifestyle where there is no overwhelming change, no need for improvement or the need to succeed in wealth, family connection or self-improvement.
The essence of the household is tragically poetic as you travel through the viewfinder and discover this hidden world of lost aspirations and strange comfort of such a disheartened home.
The book depicts closely the squalor of their surroundings and the violence between family members although many of Billingham's photographs illustrate the narrative between the dysfunctional family lifestyle.
The 'kitchen-sink' idea of documentation within photography usually defines the right to portray poverty and social decline, and Billingham uses this to his advantage.
"In all these photographs I never bothered with things like the negatives.
Some of them got marked or scratched.
I just used the cheapest film and took them to be processed at the cheapest place.
" Billingham places himself in the department of candid photography, a style of photography that captures people living in the event, where the subjects aren't posed and un-choreographed.
I think this type of photography, whether working in film or digital, proves far more of a challenge as it forces the photographer to take the 'decisive moment'.
Frustratingly, a lot of the time it doesn't work out, but if there is an emotion in what you are capturing it will show through in the images produced.
It is this feeling and vision that influences others which cannot be created in a composed photograph.
Henri Cartier-Besson is considered the master of candid photography and the father of modern photojournalism.
Peter Galassi, whilst commenting on the Surrealist movement said "They saw that ordinary photographs, especially when uprooted from their practical functions, contain a wealth of unintended, unpredictable meanings".
As they say 'less is more' sometimes trying too hard to make a point or throw a message in someone's face can have the opposite effect and you end up leaving the viewer confused and they lose interest.
Photography can fix eternity in an instant, and it is one of these moments out of hundreds of photographs that carry a point to them, that holds a completely subjective eye.
It enables you to disappear into a world of looking, and as photos get developed you then subject yourself into a completely reflective state.
"My father Raymond is a chronic alcoholic.
He doesn't like going outside, my mother Elizabeth hardly drinks, but she does smoke a lot.
She likes pets and things that are decorative.
They married in 1970 and I was born soon after.
My younger brother Jason was taken into care when he was 11, but now he is back with Ray and Liz again.
Recently he became a father.
Dad was some kind of mechanic, but he's always been an alcoholic.
It has just got worse over the years.
He gets drunk on cheap cider at the off license.
He drinks a lot at nights now and gets up late.
Originally, our family lived in a terraced house, but they blew all the redundancy money and, in desperation, sold the house.
Then we moved to the council tower block, where Ray just sits in and drinks.
That's the thing about my dad, there's no subject he's interested in, except drink.
" Billingham has managed to show how each location he has photographs contains it own unique set of variables, whether the image may contain the dismal family lifestyle or a snapshot of his surrounding home.
He can elaborate to both genres of snapshot and effective documentation.
The idea of documentary photography has tended to stand for a comment on social decline, poverty and hardship with a possible flutter of hope or dream of reform.
I do not believe this is the same effect Billingham strived to achieve, rather an uncanny form of showing life as it is; just as it is.
Generally, it is considered within most families that photographs become the memories, taken by parents or adults, to preserve the times for our younger generation to see and share, conveniently erasing the sad crying children, divorces and the family-meets up of relatives that don't agree.
These images which Billingham produced do not quite reflect the same ideal.
Rather than creating a passage of memories to cherish, we look at Billingham work in the same precious way but with a sense of empathy rather than endearment.
He focuses on the material culture that we pass in everyday life, sometimes hidden behind a pair of net curtains on the seventh floor of a council flat, other times right in front of our face yet completely disregarded.
These casual snapshots help to create a symbol and metaphor which constructs a meaning from our 'material nature' that we so easily gather and use to create a personality for ourselves.
Does this mean that every man who enjoys a pint in the comfort of his own home is Ray? Or the bulky tattooed woman buying her daily shopping is Liz? Perhaps it doesn't, but it is these characters, in each of us, are the ones who allow the viewer to make their own narrative and emotional connection with what we see.
Without Billingham's carefree nature and immediacy of his work, we would not have this undeniable distance yet heavy connection with the subject matter.
As a viewer of the private life presented to us, Billingham's world has the distinctive feeling of a television soap opera.
We are invited to sit back and watch the drama unfold, whilst the characters continue on in a state of happy ignorance.
Similar to Billingham, George Shaw is fascinated by photographing the housing estate where he was brought up in; the post-war council estate, graffitied garages and a huge expanse of scrubby and deserted parkland in a neglected British town.
It is these in between places Shaw focuses on which evoke the memory of a working-class lifestyle, which he and many others spent their adolescent years in.
Through his photography he manages to show an older generation a misplaced endearment and reflection, and allows a younger generation an insight through a narrative geography.
Shaw's photography also carries a canny underlying effect, as does Billingham's, although it's questionable whether this is a pre-meditated manoeuvre or if it is by chance.
This type of photography has an immediate effect on the audience, there are many different layers to each image we take or hold in our hands, but sometimes it is the ideas and meanings we find in them after they have been captured, as opposed to an attempt in finding meaning or symbolism initially.
His photos, which initially brought him fame, show a grim stain of stark interiors and the private challenges of his everyday life, but interestingly his work is not a social comment, but more of an old-fashioned means of creating images.
Whereas the message I attempt to send is a comment on the society we live in, it intrigues me that Billingham does not chase this same incentive when his images are so readily understandable and matter-of-fact.
"I was just trying to make order out of chaos" Ray's A Laugh, published in 2000 is the photographic revelation of Richard's dad Ray a full-time alcoholic whose behavior pushed many frustrations onto his wife and children for several years, until Richard moved to Sunderland to complete a degree and managed to escape the tragic, yet aesthetically brilliant lifestyle.
American Suburb X describes the book as a 'tour-du-snapshot force of voyeurism and realism', as it portrays both his skills and talent but also the ugly spirit that lingers around the family home.
These images of an alcohol-fueled father, heavily obese yet nurturing mother and a vacant space of where his brother should be are instantly repelling to the viewer; however they are compelling in their own right.
It is not a typical idealized family portrait but it is truth.
There is a sadness in the images, there is no sign of hope or a need to move forward, but there is also beauty as Billingham has managed to capture the true essence of what he had always known, the comfortable lifestyle where there is no overwhelming change, no need for improvement or the need to succeed in wealth, family connection or self-improvement.
The essence of the household is tragically poetic as you travel through the viewfinder and discover this hidden world of lost aspirations and strange comfort of such a disheartened home.
The book depicts closely the squalor of their surroundings and the violence between family members although many of Billingham's photographs illustrate the narrative between the dysfunctional family lifestyle.
The 'kitchen-sink' idea of documentation within photography usually defines the right to portray poverty and social decline, and Billingham uses this to his advantage.
"In all these photographs I never bothered with things like the negatives.
Some of them got marked or scratched.
I just used the cheapest film and took them to be processed at the cheapest place.
" Billingham places himself in the department of candid photography, a style of photography that captures people living in the event, where the subjects aren't posed and un-choreographed.
I think this type of photography, whether working in film or digital, proves far more of a challenge as it forces the photographer to take the 'decisive moment'.
Frustratingly, a lot of the time it doesn't work out, but if there is an emotion in what you are capturing it will show through in the images produced.
It is this feeling and vision that influences others which cannot be created in a composed photograph.
Henri Cartier-Besson is considered the master of candid photography and the father of modern photojournalism.
Peter Galassi, whilst commenting on the Surrealist movement said "They saw that ordinary photographs, especially when uprooted from their practical functions, contain a wealth of unintended, unpredictable meanings".
As they say 'less is more' sometimes trying too hard to make a point or throw a message in someone's face can have the opposite effect and you end up leaving the viewer confused and they lose interest.
Photography can fix eternity in an instant, and it is one of these moments out of hundreds of photographs that carry a point to them, that holds a completely subjective eye.
It enables you to disappear into a world of looking, and as photos get developed you then subject yourself into a completely reflective state.
"My father Raymond is a chronic alcoholic.
He doesn't like going outside, my mother Elizabeth hardly drinks, but she does smoke a lot.
She likes pets and things that are decorative.
They married in 1970 and I was born soon after.
My younger brother Jason was taken into care when he was 11, but now he is back with Ray and Liz again.
Recently he became a father.
Dad was some kind of mechanic, but he's always been an alcoholic.
It has just got worse over the years.
He gets drunk on cheap cider at the off license.
He drinks a lot at nights now and gets up late.
Originally, our family lived in a terraced house, but they blew all the redundancy money and, in desperation, sold the house.
Then we moved to the council tower block, where Ray just sits in and drinks.
That's the thing about my dad, there's no subject he's interested in, except drink.
" Billingham has managed to show how each location he has photographs contains it own unique set of variables, whether the image may contain the dismal family lifestyle or a snapshot of his surrounding home.
He can elaborate to both genres of snapshot and effective documentation.
The idea of documentary photography has tended to stand for a comment on social decline, poverty and hardship with a possible flutter of hope or dream of reform.
I do not believe this is the same effect Billingham strived to achieve, rather an uncanny form of showing life as it is; just as it is.
Generally, it is considered within most families that photographs become the memories, taken by parents or adults, to preserve the times for our younger generation to see and share, conveniently erasing the sad crying children, divorces and the family-meets up of relatives that don't agree.
These images which Billingham produced do not quite reflect the same ideal.
Rather than creating a passage of memories to cherish, we look at Billingham work in the same precious way but with a sense of empathy rather than endearment.
He focuses on the material culture that we pass in everyday life, sometimes hidden behind a pair of net curtains on the seventh floor of a council flat, other times right in front of our face yet completely disregarded.
These casual snapshots help to create a symbol and metaphor which constructs a meaning from our 'material nature' that we so easily gather and use to create a personality for ourselves.
Does this mean that every man who enjoys a pint in the comfort of his own home is Ray? Or the bulky tattooed woman buying her daily shopping is Liz? Perhaps it doesn't, but it is these characters, in each of us, are the ones who allow the viewer to make their own narrative and emotional connection with what we see.
Without Billingham's carefree nature and immediacy of his work, we would not have this undeniable distance yet heavy connection with the subject matter.
As a viewer of the private life presented to us, Billingham's world has the distinctive feeling of a television soap opera.
We are invited to sit back and watch the drama unfold, whilst the characters continue on in a state of happy ignorance.
Similar to Billingham, George Shaw is fascinated by photographing the housing estate where he was brought up in; the post-war council estate, graffitied garages and a huge expanse of scrubby and deserted parkland in a neglected British town.
It is these in between places Shaw focuses on which evoke the memory of a working-class lifestyle, which he and many others spent their adolescent years in.
Through his photography he manages to show an older generation a misplaced endearment and reflection, and allows a younger generation an insight through a narrative geography.
Shaw's photography also carries a canny underlying effect, as does Billingham's, although it's questionable whether this is a pre-meditated manoeuvre or if it is by chance.
This type of photography has an immediate effect on the audience, there are many different layers to each image we take or hold in our hands, but sometimes it is the ideas and meanings we find in them after they have been captured, as opposed to an attempt in finding meaning or symbolism initially.
