Martin Parr makes many ugly pictures. Not just ugly, grotesque. Not just grotesque, gripping. And not just gripping, poignant. In fact, his photographs are essential — essential commentaries on the modern world. Does this seem like a contradictory train of thought? It is.
And it is this contradiction that makes Parr the most widely viewed British photographer of his generation. He has exploited, without remorse, the ambiguity and flexibility available in the space of the frame to expose the strangeness of globalisation and the nature of modern wealth. For almost 40 years, Parr has photographed tourism, luxury, junk food and leisure, all with an eye that seems deceptively casual, and yet, is incisive, biting, ironic and comical.
Parr subverts expectations. For example, where does one expect to find vulnerability? The obvious answers seem to be in the theatre of war, in the homes of the poor, in the bedroom, and this is traditionally where documentary photographers have gone to capture images. But Parr’s eye has focused on finding a different kind of vulnerability, one that is more ordinary, in spaces where people are putting their aspirational selves on display. Fashion shows, the races, art openings, these are the places where the elite (and the wannabe elite) are turned out in their best, waiting to be photographed in their most desirable form. Parr’s ability to peel back the veneer of this desirability to hint at the insecurities, to point at the common anxiety beneath it all, is what takes his work beyond simple voyeuristic play (or cruel wit) into the realm of serious observation.
This obsession with finding the unusual in the everyday has made Parr an expert in bringing the bizarre and the banal together. This is true not only of his photography but of his massive collections of ephemera, housing everything from Barack Obama flip-flops to Margaret Thatcher teapots and Saddam Hussein watches.
But it is an entirely different avatar that brings him back to India in 2016 (he was last here to launch his book and exhibition ‘Martin Parr in India in 2010’). He is in Mumbai this week to lecture and discuss his passion for and belief in photobooks of which he is a prolific collector (he currently houses 12,000 at his home in Bristol). Today, Parr will be giving a talk at Jnanapravaha and be in conversation with India’s first dedicated photobook library The Bind Collective.
Parr is co-author with Gerry Badger of three volumes titled The History of the Photobook . The pair worked relentlessly over a decade to give the world a substantial narrative of the cultural and historical importance of this niche genre. As photographers, they knew that the discovery of a great photobook usually coincides with a discovery of the potential of photography as a language (in countless interviews we find the world’s most remarkable photographers speaking of the importance of their first encounter with a photobook). A carefully edited series of images enclosed within covers can create a world, an experience, a story beyond anything tangibly imaginable in a single photograph.
There has been no substantial research so far on the Indian photobook. In a recent exhibition curated by Ram Rahman at the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA) Mumbai, on the work of the legendary Sunil Janah, the entire third floor was dedicated to his first book The Second Creature . Few visitors would have even known of its existence if Rahman had not presented copies of the page layouts alongside the prints. The fact that this book is almost impossible to access is a pity because it may be one of the earliest examples we have of an Indian photobook that moves beyond the standard presentation of large single images on white pages. Janah’s layout is dynamic, juxtaposing small and large prints, and many double spreads contain notes from his diaries that are playful and revealing.
Parr has added this book to his collection and is here in search of more. Parr, who has been part of Magnum Photos since 1994, spoke to The Hindu , about his interest in India and his take on photography.
Aside from your lecture, what brings you back to India?
To have a look around. I like the country. It’s a great place to take photographs. It’s ridiculously photogenic. It’s hard not to find a subject matter that’s interesting in India. If you can’t take pictures in India, you may as well just give up.
I read that you were photographing every beggar who approached you the last time you were here.
Yes. I will continue to do that because it’s a good response. It throws them. It sort of plays them at their own game.
They do it through intimidation so you intimidate back. And you may get an interesting photo. It’s something which is unavoidable when you’re a tourist so it’s also about the commonality of that experience.
The commonality of experience is increasing everywhere. Do you think ways of seeing were more varied in the past than they are today?
We’re all becoming more homogenised.
Even India, with the economic renaissance, will become more homogenised. It’s inevitable. It’s got so much character and individuality still, and so much of India is not in the cities.
In an interview with ASX you said, “Photography’s central role is to be the absolute medium of the day”. What did you mean by that?
It’s the most democratic art form in the world. Because everyone takes photos.
We’ve all got phones and on those phones, normally, now there is a camera. So everyone is a photographer.
Do you think everyone being a photographer means that there is more visual literacy? That people now understand photographs in a way they haven’t before?
No, not really. But there is a bigger platform now for photography than there was 20 or 30 years ago. Because you have things like Instagram and Flickr. We are obsessed with taking photos. It’s very easy to take photos. You don’t need to know anything about an f-stop; you just point your phone and shoot.
And in terms of photobooks, do you think there is a possibility in the future for them to move out of their niche? And actually be a part of all sections in a library — science, history, fiction?
Well, photobooks have become more popular in the last 10 or 15 years which is surprising given the Internet trend. But I think people regard them as an antidote to the ubiquity of photographs you see online. People like the idea of something you can handle, something that’s physical. There is a trend towards buying books nowadays. I don’t think it’s quite as dramatic in India. But there is an Indian photographic book club, there are a large number of Indian photographers, they are becoming more and more internationalised. But it’s still a very minority interest. A photobook that does a good run is 2,000 copies. That’s nothing in the scheme of things. It hardly registers.
Is there any particular work that you’ve found interesting from India recently?
We have the new Magnum nominee, Sohrab Hura. He’s great. There is a whole generation of photographers that are interesting. I’m trying to piece together more information about photography books and publishing from India. That’s one reason why this lecture will be interesting — to compare notes with my Indian colleagues.
You photographed Britain extensively before venturing into other worlds. And you were able to give a look at your own society which was both critical, and in depth. That ability is still what seems to be rare, at least in India.
I know what you’re saying. There are a lot of clichés in India which you always have to avoid. Although I quite like clichés. But what we are talking about is the quality of the photographer. The quality of their eye and their seeing and what they intend to communicate. If they’ve got something to say, they’re likely to flourish whether they’re in India, Bangladesh, Africa or Europe. Also, a lot of Indian photographers come to study at colleges in Europe and America. That gives them a different perspective.
Martin Parr’s talk, ‘The History of the Photobook, A Personal Crusade’ will be held at Jnanapravaha at 6.30 pm today. (Alisha Sett is a Mumbai-based writer)
