The
Long Way Home
Bernard Fallon
(3rd March – 15th July 2007)
Reviewed by
“I took these pictures an amateur in the true sense of the word,
not only because I wasn‘t paid to do them but also that I loved
the sensation of events and scenes materialising in the viewfinder”
The photos in the exhibition document the changing urban landscape and
social environment on and around the bus route from Crosby to the city
centre. All were taken between 1967-1975, most in the years 1969-1970.
Fallon’s style is informed by that of Henri Cartier-Bresson’s
photographic journalism and the extant display brings a documentary clarity
to the ordinary Liverpool lives not usually associated with the Capitalized
events of HISTORY. Notions of ‘scouse-ness’ unfold before
the lens, untainted by the sentimentalized values of big-budget televisual
representations. Fallon captures a moment/space somewhere between pose
and reality, closest to the recall of memory and presents a form of ‘social
realism’ in which the subjects speak for themselves, unsubsumed
by class politics or value judgement.
This is my Gran’s Liverpool; my parent’s childhood. School
children with cheeky freckled faces and dirty knees could be them. The
women in their headscarves could be her. The room echoes with exclamations
of ‘I remember that’, or ‘I remember him’ and
it isn’t hard to get people talking about what the display means
to them. Taking a rest on the bench next to me, Harry Parker, on his first
visit to the Conservation Centre with his son points out friend’s
old homes he recognizes, delighting in detailing the journeys of his past.
Anne Moule of Southport and Joyce McCabe of Litherland stopping in front
of pictures of Great Homer Street Market tell me “I hated Paddy’s
Market – my Mum used to take me every week’. They describe
the exhibition as ‘terrific, detailed and evocative’, and
were especially drawn to ‘Pub, Scotland Road’, the photo of
the beefburger stand, and ‘Five Kids’.
Neil Beet – a security guard in the Conservation Centre –
has been listening to viewer’s stories. He has heard that ‘Pub,
Scotland Road’ was taken in The Honky Tonk and of the many young
men and only two women featured, many have now passed away. He also reveals:
‘…the other day a woman came in and started to cry when
she saw the picture ‘Shawlie and Husband’. It was her Grandparents,
now passed away and she had no idea about the picture. And the ‘cheeky’
lads have been in to see their portrait which was used as promotional
material – they still look as cheeky!’
Neil recognises the Crosby baths ice cream man in one picture and describes
his big red van held together with Walls stickers.
Some images are discomfortingly rough; ‘Beer’ shows a man
passed out on the grass of the Grand National car park. ‘Black Eye’
depicts four young men sat in the tiny room of an Islington doss house,
one is slumped, almost doubled over in his chair, back to the camera;
the central figure’s handsome, Sean Beanish face distorted by a
closed over, blackened right eye. Human figures are often dwarfed by the
bleak industrial scale of construction work or demolitions. But there
are frequent flashes of character and humour as in ‘Make us Famous
and ‘Curlers’ showing a cleaner with her curlers in. There
are no glamorous portraits and some pictures have a feeling of desperation
about them – e.g. ‘Ciggies’ – but the reaction
of the many viewers, especially the people whose era this was, is punctuated
by laughter.
Comment left by Bernard Fallon on 26th June, 2007 at 16:40 Dear Hana,
Thanks for your lovely review. You brought sounds and voices to the exhibition.
Bernard fallon
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