Modest men, lovely men ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As a follow-on from my 'Read this' post, here's a photograph I took of André Kertész with a cake that was made for his 90th birthday. It was July 1984 and he was at the Museum of Photography, Film and Television in Bradford for the opening of a wonderful exhibition of his work. (It was there that I first came across the word 'festschrift' - a collection of works published in honour of an artist - because I bought a copy and still have it, signed by the great man himself .. )

I believe Salford artist Harold Riley had a lot to do with bringing this exhibition to life. I lived down the road from him and photographed him often. "I'm a painter," he modestly told a lady at an event one time. "Oh yes?" she replied. "Can you give me a quote to emulsion our front room!" ..

Modest men, lovely men. I hope they're chattering together excitedly in heaven ..

Ps: This is from an original print, on RC paper, with my hand-written caption up the side! 

Read this ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I've splashed out £35 on David Hurn's new book 'On Reading', an homage to a 1984 book of the same name by the great André Kertész. That first book cost all of £2.50 (Technically $5.95, as I bought it in New York!) but I don't begrudge the higher price of David's book because - don't tell anybody - I think it's better than André's. His eye for a quirky moment conquers André's quietly contemplative photography, meaning there's so much more to see in the modern photographs ..

I own autographed books by both 'masters'. I got André's in person when I was lucky enough to meet him on his 90th birthday. Just got to wangle a meet with Mr Hurn now .. 

 

Gwapple me gwapenuts!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well I guess I know what I was doing thirty-seven years ago today. I was reading the British Journal of Photography, which I bought religiously every week for the grand sum of 60p. On this particular cover, the famous TV botanist David Bellamy peered out from behind a leafy bush in a pose I can only imagine he adopted every time he encountered a photographer. (I shot him exactly like that myself!)

 

Inside, there are articles on 'Stills video' for the press and news agencies (I remember the Manchester Evening News buying in just such a system) and the Canon EOS 620. There's a review of an exhibition at The Barbican - a 20th century collection of French photography entitled 'Art or nature', and there are adverts for the Mamiya 645 and the Bronica GS-1. The thing that surprised me most was the 'Classified' pages at the back of the magazine. There are .. wait for it .. EIGHT pages of jobs within photography, ranging from Slide Technicians on £8000 a year, Photography Lecturers on eight to fifteen thousand, Cruise Ship snappers, Black-and-white printers, E6 technicians and even Senior Photographers with the Ministry of Defence with a requirement of City and Guilds qualifications and at least an A,B or C pass in English Language, Mathematics and one Science subject ..

As David Bellamy (Or at least Lenny Henry) would say .. "Gwapple me gwapenuts!!!" 

(And if you don't understand that then you are TOO YOUNG!)

 

Happy Hockney

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I went to Paris recently to see the fantastic new David Hockney exhibition, then discovered yesterday that he and my Dad share the same birthday. (Two great men, two warm summer days in the 1930s!) I was lucky enough to photograph the artist back in December 1996, when he had a show at Manchester Art Gallery, but the work on display in the capital blew that exhibition away. Staged at the magnificent Foundation Louis Vuitton, it features 400 works of art over several floors and, although I found some of it rather childish, there's no denying the vibrancy of his paintings. And to walk into a room and see a picture that's fifty feet across .. wow! Highly recommended, and open until the end of August if you happen to be en Paris ..

PS: Having finished my photographs, I shook the great man's hand and asked for his autograph. I still have it to this day. You'd swear he's written 'Gary Lowry' .. ! 

PPS: Don't you just love the holes in his cardigan!!

 

Dad ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's sixteen years since Dad died, but July 9th is still a poignant day for me .. Happy Birthday, you old fart!

Lucky Angela Trimble

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In 1978, just like every other red-blooded teenage boy with his hormones a'ragin', I used to have a poster of Debbie Harry on my wall. So it came as quite a shock this morning to find out that her real name is Angela Trimble! "I love you, Miss Trimble" hasn't quite got the same punk punch to it, has it? Nevertheless, she still holds a special place in my heart and I'll be forever jealous of Chris Stein for, er  .. er .. let's skip that bit!

And so, happy birthday, Angela! Just turned 80 and looking fantastic. "How did I get so old?" she asked of herself. "I guess I just got lucky .." 

A lost innocence ..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I melt in 44 degree heat, I thought I'd show again my picture of Lisa in the bath, probably from that fabled summer of sizzly '76. Lovely shot, isn't it? A 'warm' memory of a time gone by and a valid photographic document of that incredible meteorological 'blip', with a delicious ice-lolly and a cool bath by the front door-step in what was a stand-out year for heat and drought. But hang on, she's got no clothes on!! 

I'd be terrified to take a picture like this these days ..