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Published 27/09/04
Bill Brandt: A Centenary Retrospective
Victoria and Albert Museum, London
24 March-25 July 2004
Bill Brandt: Nudes
Pentagram Gallery, London
July 2004
Two parallel exhibitions of the work of the greatest
British 20th century photographer provide a timely retrospective
of two sides of Brandt. In the introduction to Paul Delaney's catalogue
(published by Jonathan Cape 2004) is the defining statement, 'Bill
Brandt was a man who loved secrets'. His world was protectively
enigmatic, as the selection of subjects for this exhibition seems
to emphasise. From the mysterious, deep-toned views of an October
brooding Isle of Skye - so characterised not by storm but by stillness
- to the photo-portraits of Graham Greene (1945), and of that arch
literary mystery of the 1960s, Alain Robbe-Grillet (1965), the secretive
disposition of the camera lens (and Brandt's own eye) contrives
that the subjects do show no expression. Yet compliant with this
secrecy comes a barely explicit social awareness ('conscience' might
be too definitive a usage here).
On the one hand we observe the echoing, but silent avenues of a
depressed Glasgow (1948) but on the other we find a rearward view
of an Eton boy, undignified and oblivious, spreadeagled on the playing
field in full school uniform (1933). That can be compared, over
the same subject, with the somehow more atmospheric and inspiring
photographs taken for the book Eton Portrait by Laszlo Moholy-Nagy
(published 1937, but surely taken sometime earlier). Did Moholy-Nagy
see these Brandt photographs? He almost certainly did and was inspired
by them, but decided on a different, less socially aware treatment.
They make an interesting comparison.
Brandt, in his evocative fruit stall picture (1929), which acknowledges
Eugene Atget as his inspiration (as did numerous contemporary artists,
including notably Man Ray), directly references his sources. One
that is repeated in his work is the famous figure of late 18th century,
Samuel Johnson. Johnson was also secretive (as the unexplained and
unaccounted for Jacobite sword and buckler found in a closet in
his London house exemplified).
It seems Brandt really did wish to be remembered by posterity for
his female nude studies. These are available in profusion, as exhibited
at the Pentagram Gallery, and run to the late 1960s. They seem to
lack the profundity of the social chapter, however beguiling they
appear in their cryptic physiognomy of the female form.
What equivalent of Brandt exists today? None, it seems. Most claimants
lack the elusive, rare quality that was Brandt's hallmark.
Brandt got in everywhere, silently. E.M.Foster, so recessed as to
appear almost like a cornered quarry in his rooms in King's
College, Cambridge; that too is captured by Brandt
Ed
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