Frank Sutcliffe. Photographer of Whitby

Niceart gallery describes Frank Sutcliffe as follows:

Frank Meadow Sutcliffe stands as a pivotal figure in the history of photography, a practitioner whose lens captured not just images, but the very essence of late Victorian and early Edwardian life in the English coastal town of Whitby. His work, characterized by a profound naturalism and an empathetic eye, transcended mere documentation, elevating everyday scenes to the realm of art. Sutcliffe was more than a local photographer; he was an innovator, a theorist, and a key participant in the international movement to establish photography as a legitimate artistic medium. His legacy endures through his evocative images and his contributions to the discourse of photography.

Early Life and the Call of the Camera

Born on October 6, 1853, in Headingley, Leeds, Frank Meadow Sutcliffe was the eldest of eight children born to Thomas Sutcliffe, a respected painter, etcher, and art lecturer. This artistic household undoubtedly nurtured young Frank’s visual sensibilities. His father, recognizing his son’s burgeoning interest, provided him with his first camera. The elder Sutcliffe’s connections in the art world, which included figures like John Ruskin, may have also subtly influenced Frank’s aesthetic development, instilling an appreciation for truthfulness in representation, a quality that would later define his photographic style.

Tragedy struck the family when Thomas Sutcliffe passed away in 1871. At the young age of eighteen, Frank found himself shouldering significant family responsibilities. The necessity of earning a living became paramount. While he had an artistic grounding, the path of a painter was precarious. Photography, then a burgeoning field, offered a more practical, albeit still challenging, avenue. He made the decisive choice to pursue photography professionally, a decision that would shape his life and contribute significantly to the medium’s history. His initial foray into professional photography involved working for Francis Frith, a prominent commercial photographer known for his extensive views of the UK and the Middle East. This experience likely provided valuable technical and business insights.

Whitby: A Muse in Stone and Sea

In 1875, seeking to establish his own practice, Sutcliffe moved to the bustling fishing port of Whitby on the Yorkshire coast. This town, with its dramatic cliffs, ancient abbey, winding cobbled streets, and vibrant maritime life, would become his lifelong muse. His first studio in Whitby was a modest affair, ingeniously set up in a disused jet worker’s shop in Waterloo Yard. Jet, a black lignite, was a significant local industry, and its workshops were part of the town’s fabric. Later, he would move to a more conventional studio on Skinner Street, which became a well-known local landmark.

Whitby offered an inexhaustible supply of subjects. Sutcliffe was captivated by the hardy fisherfolk, their weathered faces telling tales of the sea. He documented their daily toil: mending nets, baiting lines, hauling catches, and navigating the harbour. His lens also captured the town’s architecture, the dramatic coastal landscapes, and the leisurely pursuits of its inhabitants and visitors. He was not merely recording; he was interpreting, seeking the inherent beauty and character in the ordinary. His deep affection for Whitby and its people shines through in his extensive body of work, creating an invaluable historical and social record.

The Naturalistic Vision: Style and Philosophy

Sutcliffe’s photographic style is best described as naturalistic. He aimed for a truthful, unembellished representation of life, eschewing the artificiality and sentimentality that characterized much Victorian art photography. His approach was deeply influenced by the theories of Peter Henry Emerson, a contemporary photographer and writer who championed “Naturalistic Photography.” Emerson advocated for images that were true to nature and human perception, often focusing on rural life and landscapes, and encouraging differential focusing to mimic human vision. Sutcliffe embraced this ethos, striving for spontaneity and authenticity in his compositions.

His work also shows an affinity with the French Realist painters of the mid-19th century, such as Jean-François Millet and Gustave Courbet, who depicted ordinary people and their labor with dignity and honesty. Like these painters, Sutcliffe found artistic merit in the everyday. He possessed a remarkable ability to capture fleeting moments, gestures, and expressions that conveyed the personality of his subjects and the atmosphere of the scene. His compositions, while appearing unposed, were often carefully considered, demonstrating a sophisticated understanding of light, form, and balance. He masterfully used the soft, diffused light of the North Yorkshire coast to create atmospheric and evocative images.

Landmark Works and Their Echoes

Among Sutcliffe’s most iconic photographs is “Water Rats,” taken in 1886. The image depicts several naked young boys playing around and in a boat in Whitby Harbour. While today it is celebrated for its candid charm and evocation of carefree childhood, in its time, it courted controversy. Victorian sensibilities were easily offended by public nudity, even in an innocent context. Sutcliffe defended the work, asserting its artistic intent and lack of prurience. The local clergy reportedly condemned it, and one story suggests a print was even ordered to be burned. Despite, or perhaps because of, the controversy, “Water Rats” became one of his most famous images, winning a medal at the Photographic Society of Great Britain’s exhibition.

His harbor scenes, often simply titled “Whitby Harbour” or with descriptive titles like “Excitement” (depicting a crowd awaiting a ship), are masterpieces of atmospheric rendering. He skillfully captured the interplay of light on water, the silhouettes of boats against a misty sky, and the bustling activity of the quayside. These images convey a strong sense of place and time. Portraits of local characters, such as fishermen, jet workers, and farm laborers, are also a significant part of his oeuvre. These are not stiff, formal studio portraits but rather intimate studies of individuals in their familiar environments, their character etched into their faces and posture. Works like “Stern Realities” or “Monday Morning” exemplify this empathetic portrayal of working life.

Technical Prowess in a Demanding Era

Sutcliffe worked primarily with large, cumbersome whole-plate cameras, typically made of brass and mahogany. These cameras used glass plate negatives, often 8.5 x 6.5 inches or larger, which required considerable skill to handle and process. The photographic emulsions of the time were slow, necessitating relatively long exposure times. This meant that capturing “spontaneous” moments required remarkable anticipation and an ability to direct subjects subtly without them appearing stiff or posed.

He was a master of the collodion process and later, dry plates, which offered more convenience. Sutcliffe favored platinum prints (platinotypes) and carbon prints for their rich tonal range and permanence, processes favored by art photographers of the era. He was known for his direct printing methods, largely avoiding the extensive retouching and composite printing techniques employed by some of his contemporaries, such as Henry Peach Robinson in his earlier, more allegorical works, or Oscar Gustave Rejlander. Sutcliffe believed in the inherent truthfulness of the photographic image, allowing the subject and the light to speak for themselves. His technical skill was not an end in itself but a means to achieve his artistic vision.

A Wider Influence: The Camera Club, The Linked Ring, and International Acclaim

Sutcliffe was not an isolated provincial photographer. He was actively involved in the broader photographic community and played a significant role in the debates and movements of his time. He was a founding member of The Camera Club in London, a society established in 1885 for amateur photographers interested in the artistic and scientific aspects of the medium. His involvement here connected him with other forward-thinking photographers.

His most significant affiliation was with the Linked Ring Brotherhood, an international group of art photographers founded in 1892. This influential society seceded from the more conservative Photographic Society of Great Britain (later the Royal Photographic Society) to promote photography as a fine art – a movement known as Pictorialism. Sutcliffe was a founding member, joining ranks with other prominent figures like Henry Peach Robinson (who had by then evolved his style), George Davison, Frederick H. Evans, and James Craig Annan from Scotland. The Linked Ring organized influential annual exhibitions, known as the Photographic Salon, which showcased the best of international pictorial photography, including works by Alfred Stieglitz, Edward Steichen, Gertrude Käsebier, Clarence H. White from America, and Robert Demachy from France.

Sutcliffe’s own work gained considerable international recognition. He exhibited widely and won over sixty medals and awards from photographic societies and exhibitions around the world, including prestigious accolades from Paris, Vienna, New York, Calcutta, and Tokyo. In 1888, he was honored with one of the earliest solo exhibitions for a photographer, held at the gallery of the Photographic Society of Great Britain, a testament to his growing stature. He was also a prolific writer on photography, contributing articles and a regular column, “Photography Notes,” to the Yorkshire Weekly Post and other photographic journals. Through his writings, he shared his technical knowledge, aesthetic ideas, and humorous observations on the life of a photographer.

Later Years, Curatorship, and Enduring Legacy

As the 20th century progressed, photographic tastes and technologies evolved. While Sutcliffe continued to photograph, the peak of his creative output is generally considered to be the period from the 1880s to the early 1900s. He adapted to changing times, even undertaking commercial work like postcard views of Whitby to sustain his business. His deep connection to Whitby and its history found a new outlet in his later years. In 1922, he was appointed curator of the Whitby Literary and Philosophical Society’s Museum and Art Gallery, a position he held with dedication until shortly before his death. This role allowed him to continue contributing to the cultural life of the town he so dearly loved.

Frank Meadow Sutcliffe passed away on May 31, 1941, at the age of 87, in his home in Sleights, near Whitby. He left behind an extraordinary archive of thousands of negatives, a rich visual tapestry of a bygone era. His contributions to photography were formally recognized when he was made an Honorary Fellow of the Royal Photographic Society in 1935, a fitting tribute to a lifetime dedicated to the art.

His photographs are more than just historical documents; they are works of art that continue to resonate with viewers today. They offer a window into the soul of Victorian and Edwardian Whitby, capturing its people, its industries, and its unique atmosphere with unparalleled sensitivity and skill. Sutcliffe’s commitment to naturalism, his technical mastery, and his profound empathy for his subjects place him firmly in the pantheon of great photographers. His influence can be seen in the work of later documentary photographers and those who seek to find art in the everyday. Figures like John Thomson, with his “Street Life in London,” shared a similar documentary impulse, though Sutcliffe’s work often carried a more pronounced pictorial sensibility. Even photographers like Julia Margaret Cameron, known for her allegorical and soft-focus portraits, shared with Sutcliffe the ambition to elevate photography to an art form, albeit through different stylistic means.

Conclusion: The Unwavering Gaze

Frank Meadow Sutcliffe’s enduring legacy lies in his remarkable ability to fuse documentary truth with artistic vision. He was a pioneer who not only chronicled the life of a specific English town with unparalleled depth but also championed photography’s status as a fine art on an international stage. His images of Whitby’s fisherfolk, bustling harbour, and quiet rural scenes are imbued with a timeless quality, speaking to universal human experiences of labor, community, and the simple beauty of the everyday. Through his unwavering gaze and profound understanding of his medium, Sutcliffe created a body of work that remains a touchstone for photographers and a treasure for art historians and anyone captivated by the rich tapestry of the past. His photographs are a testament to a life lived through the lens, a life dedicated to capturing the fleeting moments that define our shared humanity. The Sutcliffe Gallery in Whitby continues to preserve and exhibit his work,

I loved this book. Physically it suits me. Many of my photobooks are huge and heavy. This one is small and quite light: easy to hold and to read. It’s divided into three parts: 11 chapters outlining Sutcliffe’s life and the evolution of his art; 64 wonderful black and white plates of his work – just the photographs unencumbered by captions or descriptions; Notes to the plates. For each plate there’s a small thumbnail of the plate in question accompanied by a short summary providing additional information on.

The text in the first part includes many fascinating quotations from Sutcliffe’s monthly column, “Photography Notes,” for the Yorkshire Weekly Post from 1908 to about 1930. He also contributed articles to many newspapers and magazines, Amateur Photography among them. It’s amazing how little things have changed. Sutcliffe was not the first photographer to react against the general belief that photographs should be as clear and sharp as possible, and show as much detail as the camera and its lens would allow: For example, William Frederick Lake Price wrote:

“From a want of knowledge of the principles of art in many photographers a morbid admiration and reverence of unnaturally minute definition tends to lead the operator away from what should really be the end aim of his study. Instead of ‘going in’ for the broad vigorous effects of light and shade in the landscape he is led to look upon a mechanical ‘organ grinding’ kind of exposure consequent upon absurdly reduced aperture as the correct thing, whilst to the eye of the artist the much-vaunted result appears like a landscape carefully black-leaded, and then executed in minute needlework, qualities which are no compensation for the want of the broad and vigorous effects of light and shade which have been given by the lens when skilfully applied to this class of subject.”

The above was written in 1868. Sound very much like the current obsession with pixel peeping sharpness doesn’t it. I wonder what they would have thought of focus stacking?

I loved this book. I can’t remember when I’ve enjoyed a book so much. When I came to the end I was genuinely disappointed that there wasn’t more.

A Visit to Cold Spring, NY – A photo exhibition

Here Coffee + Beer was holding a exhibition of photographs by Brian Avenius. It’s called Lost and Found and it’s running through February. Some very impressive, large format photographs here.

I’ve often thought about printing some of my photographs larger, but I always talk myself out of it. Since I don’t have a large format printer, it would cost me quite a bit to print them, and I’m not sure what I would do with them afterwards. I certainly don’t have any wall space in my house, and I don’t sell any of my photographs. I think I’ll stick to printing smaller format photobooks.

It might be nice to print a couple of them though…just to see how they look.

Taken with a Sony RX100 MVII

Photography: Essays and Images

The back cover of the book provides the following, which describes the book better than I possibly could:

This handsomely illustrated volume presents a fascinating pictorial and literary experience, bringing to life through their own words – and photographs – the scientists, artists, philosophers, innovators and entrepreneurs who in the last century (Note: the book was published in 1980) and a half have formulated a new art and a new era of communication.

Beaumont Newhall calls this book “an autobiography of the art of photography, written by some of the men and women who by their inventive genius, their scientific skill, and their artistic sensibility have forged a technique into a vital visual medium. We have allowed them to speak to us directly, without condensing, excerpting, or otherwise editing their words, so the volume may be both an authentic source book for students of the history of photography as an art and a narrative for the general reader”.

Mr. Newhall has chosen 190 photographs to illustrate the reports, criticism, and points of view expressed by the writers of the “autobiography,” many from the photographic archive of the Museum of Modern Art, others from collections throughout the world. He also provides brief introductory comments to place each selection in historical context. Photographs and text are carefully integrated.

The selections in this volume include first-person accounts of the inventions of the basic photographic techniques; newspaper reports of the discovery of the daguerreotype and of early photographic exhibitions; criticism by Baudelaire, Léger, Moholy-Nagy; personal statements from Stieglitz, Steichen, Strand, Lange, Adams, Weston, Evans and others. This basic source material, presented at length and accompanied by relevant photographs, provides a rich background for the chronological history of the medium so masterfully presented by Mr. Newhall in his classic work, The History of Photography.

To give a better sense of the scope of the work I’ve scanned the table of contents (see below)



Lee Friedlander

Once upon a time I didn’t care for street photography. But I’m an avid consumer of photobooks and after acquiring books by/about such luminaries as Joel Meyerowitz, Gary Winogrand, Robert Frank etc. I began to understand it better and even tried to do street photography of my own. One of the photographers I came across was Lee Friedlander. I saw some of his photographs online and liked them a lot and so decided to find out more. As is the norm for me I decided to get my hands on a book. This turned out to be harder than I thought. He’s a prolific creator of photobooks. See below for a partial list:

  • The American Monument. New York: Eakins Press Foundation, 1976. ISBN 0-87130-043-5.
  • Lee Friedlander Photographs. New City, NY: Self-published / Haywire Press, 1978.
  • Factory Valleys: Ohio & Pennsylvania. New York: Callaway Editions, 1982. ISBN 0-935112-04-9.
  • Lee Friedlander Portraits. Boston: Little, Brown, 1985. ISBN 0-8212-1602-3.
  • Like a One-Eyed Cat: Photographs by Lee Friedlander, 1956–1987. New York: Harry N. Abrams in association with the Seattle Art Museum, 1989. ISBN 0-8109-1274-0.
  • Nudes. New York: Pantheon, 1991. ISBN 0-679-40484-8.
  • The Jazz People of New Orleans. New York: Pantheon, 1992. ISBN 0-679-41638-2.
  • Maria. Washington: Smithsonian, 1992. ISBN 1-56098-207-1.
  • London: Jonathan Cape, 1993. ISBN 9780224032957.
  • Bellocq: Photographs from Storyville, the Red-Light District of New Orleans. New York: Random House, 1996. ISBN 0-679-44975-2.
  • The Desert Seen. New York: Distributed Art Publishers, 1996. ISBN 1-881616-75-4.
  • American Musicians: Photographs by Lee Friedlander. New York: Distributed Art Publishers, 1998. ISBN 1-56466-056-7. By Friedlander, Steve Lacy, and Ruth Brown.
  • Lee Friedlander. San Francisco: Fraenkel Gallery, 2000. ISBN 1-881337-09-X.
  • Stems. New York: Distributed Art Publishers, 2003. ISBN 1-891024-75-2.
  • Lee Friedlander: Sticks and Stones: Architectural America. San Francisco: Fraenkel Gallery, 2004. ISBN 1-891024-97-3. By Friedlander and James Enyeart.
  • Cherry Blossom Time in Japan: The Complete Works. San Francisco: Fraenkel Gallery, 2006. ISBN 1-881337-20-0.
  • Lee Friedlander: New Mexico. Santa Fe, NM: Radius Books, 2008. ISBN 978-1-934435-11-3. By Friedlander, Andrew Smith, and Emily Ballew Neff.
  • Photographs: Frederick Law Olmsted Landscapes. New York: Distributed Art Publishers, 2008. ISBN 978-1933045733.
  • America by Car. San Francisco: Fraenkel Gallery, 2010. ISBN 978-1-935202-08-0.
  • Portraits: The Human Clay: Volume 1. New Haven, CT: Yale University, 2015. ISBN 978-0-300-21520-5.
  • Children: The Human Clay: Volume 2. New Haven, CT: Yale University, 2015. ISBN 978-0-300-21519-9.
  • Street: The Human Clay: Volume 3. New Haven, CT: Yale University, 2016. ISBN 978-0-300-22177-0.
  • Lee Friedlander: Western Landscapes. New Haven, CT: Yale University Art Gallery, 2016. ISBN 978-0-300-22301-9.

All you’ll have seen his books cover a multitude of topics. Unfortunately, that wasn’t what I wanted. I was looking for a fairly recent retrospective covering his work in general. At that time the type of book I was looking for was either out of print, extremely expensive or both. This situation now seems to have changed so when I spotted this book, I immediately acquired it.

It’s quite a large (10″ x 12″) book, which explains why the right side is cut off in the picture. It just wouldn’t fit on my admittedly small scanner.

The book is in four parts. The first is an essay by Carlos Gollonet entitled “The World According to Lee Friedlander”. I found this most informative and refreshingly free of the “critic speak” you often find in such pieces. Instead, it was rather easy to read. I found the second part, “My life with Lee. An Interview with Maria Friedlander” to be absolutely fascinating. Since Mr. Friedlander is known for his reluctance to give interviews, this might be the close as we’re going to get. The third part: “How he sees” by Nichols Nixon is short and left very little impression on me. I guess it’s a personal reflection by someone who knows Friedlander well. The third part, which takes up most of the book is called “Catalog” and contains over 300 photographs, mostly black and white, but a few in color. The book concludes with a chronology of the artist’s life by his grandson Giancarlo T. Roma.

I really enjoyed it.

Deep South

About a week ago I felt like going somewhere pleasant where I could sit and read. So, I decided to go walk down to a restaurant (3 Westerly) on the Hudson River – about a 45-minute walk from where I live. On the way I stopped at a great local bookstore: Hudson Valley Books for Humanity where I picked up a copy of “Deep South” by Sally Mann.

Publishers weekly described the book as follows:

Mann rose to prominence with Immediate Family, a collection of photographs of her children that some saw as emotionally direct and others found disturbingly erotic. Regardless, these photographs, and her subsequent work, demonstrate that Mann has a preternatural eye for light and composition. In this book, Mann, inspired by “”a cache of glass negatives…of familiar local places,”” set off with her camera through the South, using eighteenth century photographic techniques to capture the “”radical light of the American South,”” and the results are fascinating. In Georgia, a column of leaves dissipates into a luminous mist; in Virginia, a scumbled field with an empty cart in the distance suggests a test shot by Matthew Brady. Many of these photographs are startling in their intimations of violence: in the section called “”Deep South,”” Mann depicts the thick shaft of a venerable tree with a wound-like, horizontal slash near the trunk. Mann has also included the inevitable mistakes involved with such a tricky process: indiscernible unhappy accidents and washed-out near-abstractions. This is brave but puzzling. In one of her short essays, Mann writes that the Southern dusk makes “”the landscape soft and vague, as if inadequately summoned by some shiftless deity, casually neglectful of the details.”” A god may enjoy such prerogatives, but shouldn’t artists be more mindful? Most of the 65 images here are hauntingly beautiful and offer a stunning tour of a very off-the-beaten-path part of the country.

I’m a big fan of Sally Mann’s work and already own a couple of her books: her memoir: Hold Still: A Memoir With Photographs; and A Thousand Crossings.

For a good overview see: Sally Mann Photos – Intimate, Visceral.

I love this book. It’s large so the quality of the photographs is good. But it’s not so large that I can’t conveniently pick it up and read it. It’s a nice mix of text and photographs. I often come across photobooks with almost no text at all. I can understand why, but personally I like to have some text. I also come across photobooks that have acres and acres of text: multiple long articles, which I don’t usually mind to much unless they’re full of “criticspeak”.

In my opinion this book is a perfect blend of text and photographs. And the text is not coming from academics pontificating about here work. It’s Ms. Mann telling a story, which complements her photographs. In addition to being a great photographer, Ms. Mann is an excellent writer (she has an MA in creative writing and her mother ran a bookstore). I find the photographs to be atmospheric, and more than a little disturbing. I’m sure that those who insist on ultimate sharpness will not like this book. But I do.

This book is not easy to find and if you can find one it’s usually somewhat expensive. I was very pleased to find it, at a reasonable price in my local bookstore.