A Snapshot of Greatness: The Photographs Gallery at the V&A By Polly Allen

Circe: Julia Margaret Cameron (1815-79) c.1865 V&A images

For an institution that’s been collecting photographs as fine art since 1856, it might seem a little strange that the Victoria and Albert Museum is only now opening its permanent Photographs Gallery. I can promise you that it was worth the wait, as the first images to be displayed are a testament to the high quality and creative skill involved in this discipline. Whether you’re drawn to the motion studies of Eadweard Muybridge or the impressive portraits of Diane Arbus, there is much to be gained from seeing these pieces in person – for what Senior Curator of Photography, Martin Barnes, calls ‘the physicality of the print’.

The idea behind this gallery is to let the public enjoy some of the estimated 300,000-500,000 photographs held by the V&A, and for each display of more than 80 works to have a broad appeal. In this opening collection we are given a glimpse at the history of photography and its development from a representational 1939 daguerreotype to ‘pictorialist’ arrangements that stood as fine art.

Title page of 'British and Foreign Flowering Plants and Ferns' 1854: Anna Atkins (1799-1871) V&A images

It’s refreshing to see that even early users of photographic technology were open to experimentation, with the botanist Anna Atkins creating prints using the oxidisation process and iron salt solutions. Meanwhile, the almost legendary Julia Margaret Cameron refused to conform to the unwritten rule of putting the camera in sharp focus; she chose to leave her images with undefined edges, adding to the romanticism of her subjects as they took on Biblical or historical scenes. Although posed by models who were in reality her family or servants, the images have a hypnotic quality and they seem entirely ethereal, such as the innocent portrait Circe (c.1865). As an amateur who first picked up a camera aged 48, Julia Margaret Cameron could not have anticipated the wide appeal that her work would have, but she later held an exhibition at the V&A and even had an on-site studio here. It seems very fitting that she should be one of the two pioneering photographers explored in depth for this inaugural gallery show (the other being Henri Cartier-Bresson).

A large part of early photography was also about documenting reality and creating a lasting record, whether that was for academic or recreational purposes. Ethnographic studies were popular during the late 1800s as sociology boomed and the Victorians clamoured to know more about the world, which led to the very un-PC practice of categorising people according to ‘type’. William Carrick’s Album of Russian Types (c.1860) is the perfect example of this curiosity, which takes the fear of the unknown and gives it a sense of logic and order. Unfortunately there is little cultural sensitivity in such images, but a more positive portrayal of exploration can be found in the picture perfect scenes of Frances Frith & Company, which were later used as postcards. The Universal series (1865) captured tourist hotspots as diverse as Jerusalem, Bath Crescent and the Alps, giving viewers access to places they might not have otherwise seen. For an even more staggering view, John Murray’s Panorama of the West Face of the Taj Mahal, Agra (c.1855) is an impressively detailed print that is presented as a triptych due to its sheer size.

From the monumental to the everyday, the latter part of the exhibition deals with more modern artistry that is often on a smaller scale. Max Scheler’s photo story following a day-in-the-life of Helena Rubenstein in 1956 shows the ease at which photography can provide honest reportage. Obviously with today’s Photoshop technology, things aren’t quite so transparent, but Scheler has given the viewer a no-holds-barred pass to the world of Ms. Rubenstein as she ‘checks her schedule’ and it feels like a privilege to peek in.

A Wristwatch Dug up approximately 0.7 km from the Epicenter of the Explosion. Nagasaki, 1961, 1961 Gelatin silver print 238 x 238 mm Copyright © 1961 Shomei Tomatsu From the series: Nagasaki

Yet if you’re really seeking a reality check, look no further than Shomei Tomatsu’s photo project, Nagasaki (1966), which was a graphic and honest examination of atomic bomb damage to both humans and material possessions. What seems like a fairly straightforward cover image of a watch becomes instantly poignant when you note the time it is forever frozen at – 11:02, precisely when the nuclear attack hit Japan in 1945. More than just a melancholic chronicle of the event, Tomatsu was commissioned to produce this piece for an anti-nuclear campaign, and I feel it successfully conveys the far-reaching effects of the bomb.

Although the wealth of imagery can feel quite overwhelming, due to the amount of photographic greats in such a small gallery, there is much to be gained from visiting. Not only is the exhibit area fascinating in itself, housed in a part of the museum dating from 1860 and filled with gorgeous lunette paintings, but this opening array gives viewers a comprehensive look at photography since 1839.

Elegant Young Man Holding a Flower, 1958: Seydou Keita © Image is copyright of their respective owners, assignees or others

I loved seeing the work of photographers whose names had been previously unknown to me, such as the crisp portraiture of Seydou Keita in 1958’s Young Man with a Flower, where it transpired that the clothing and props were leant to Keita’s Malian models so that they could have a taste of the Western lifestyle that was popular with the upper classes at the time. Knowing that the sitters had made personal choices over their representation made me view this image in a different light, as I was seeing this man’s aspirations rather than his own property.

East Sussex, Bill Brandt, 1953, © Bill Brandt Archive Ltd.

Other images in the gallery that were causing a stir included Bill Brandt’s East Sussex (1953), which deliberately used a wide-angled lens on a nude body to create a link with the practice of crime scene photography. The picture was taken from a severe angle which made the woman’s naked form almost fit in with the landscape of the uneven pebbly beach and white waves, as if she were naturally a part of it, although in reality this would have been uncomfortable and not very serene. With both Keita and Brandt’s prints we are asked to accept their manipulations and photographic techniques, which are far removed from the staid realism of the 1939 daguerreotype that greets you on arrival to this gallery. If nothing else, it’s evidence that the genre of photography has come a long way.

This first exhibition from the Photographs Gallery proves that the V&A was right to open up its vaults to the public, as we still have so much to learn from the past about this area of art. What Martin Barnes calls the ‘means of creative expression’ is something to be marvelled at here, and it’s also bound to spark some enthusiasm for analogue photography once again. I’m hooked.