Joke Shop

This is a collection of photographs taken in Blackpool between 1997-2000, when I was studying photography at Blackpool & the Fylde College on Palatine Road.

These pictures are  Blackpool before the smoking ban in pubs  and the era of cheap supermarket booze  - both of which had a remarkable effect on the culture and architecture of the town, probably changing it more in ten years than it had in the last hundred.  

These were also the days before digital and shooting a fifty frames of the same thing, before staring into the back of camera whilst the action passed you by. The cost of film generally meant I shot two or three frames before moving on.

Towards the end of my time in Blackpool the night-time culture of the  town seemed to change. Less boozy and more druggy, with all the associated problems that come with that. The town seemed to go from raucously cheerful to dark and dangerous  - or maybe that was just my imagination.

After I graduated I gathered up all my work and packed it away where it has languished largely untouched for the best part of 15 years. 

Practically everything here was shot on 35mm Fuji Velvia 50 iso transparency film and it seems to have survived remarkably well - a cardboard print box in a drawer being the ideal archive conditions apparently. I wonder if the same could be said of digital in the future?      

Some of the places and people seen here are no longer with us. A lot of the art-deco buildings which grew up in Blackpool's heyday have been replaced by the unimaginative supermarketicture which has come to dominate the landscape of the UK.  

Not all the photos here are great, but banality plus time can sometimes equate to significance, so that's my excuse in adding another pile of pixels to the great dustbin of history which is the Internet.

Thanks for viewing!

Saturday Morning, Bank Hey St, 1998

This is probably my all-time favourite picture. It seems to sum up Blackpool  well - humanity colliding as it does all together on the pavements.

The man with the placard was a regular in the town centre during the Summer and you can just see his colleagues behind him.

The young girls are part of a dance troupe. If you look carefully you can see one of them is whistling and he's telling them to keep it down!

Woolworths and Shoemarket are long gone, but I think Mecca remains

In my final year, 2000  I entered the best of my Blackpool work, including this one into the Ian Parry Scholarship - a prestigious competition  in memory of a photographer killed whilst on assignment.

I didn't win, but got an honourable mention. This entitled me to a portfolio review with the picture editor of a magazine internationally known for it's photojournalism and to attend a dinner with the actual winners along with some luminaries of the noble trade of speaking truth to power.

Incredibly excited at what was definitely going to be my big break into the world of international photojournalism   I went down to see said editor who took a look at my pictures before dismissing them as either 'lucky grabs' or 'student stuff'.

He then went on to show me what is apparently proper photojournalism, which  consisted mainly of  pictures of African people  engaged in knocking lumps out of their fellow citizens, cutting off their limbs or dying of AIDS.

Duly chastened and somewhat disillusioned I went to a pub and consoled myself in the traditional manner.

A couple of hours later  and suitably refreshed I turned up at the appointed time to the Lillian Bayliss theatre in East London to attend the awards ceremony.

I was shown to my seat and a glass of champagne was thrust into my hand by a distinguished looking chap in who sat down next to me.

I looked at him and did a double take. I was sitting next to my hero the legendary photojournalist Don McCullin!

As the awards were handed out  McCullin provided a secondary commentary and was refreshingly frank about some of Fleet Streets finest photographers. One in particular he described as 'the biggest c*nt I ever met' and another  famous ennobled royal photographer as an 'total arselicker'.

Afterward I was invited to dine at  a Michelin starred private eaterie with the winners.

I'd like to say it was a fabulous occasion, but sadly, due to nerves, and  the amount of free Guinness and champagne I imbibed much of the evening is lost to me.

However, I do recollect a rather voluable argument with someone (possibly Times photographer Pete Downing) about my entitlement to have salmon for both a starter and a main course.

Shortly afterwards I was invited to leave.

After being skimmed by a minicab driver who threatened to remove one of my kidneys unless I paid an extortionate fare  I found my way back to my B&B where I spent much of the following day vomiting up some of the finest cuisine available to humanity into a  toilet.
  

Obviously I survived all that, but I learnt one thing: Never, ever enter photo competitions. 

Self Inflicted Tattoos, 2000

Bonny Street Market, 1999

Chip Shop, Palantine Road, 2000

Fish, chips & mushy peas - £2.00!

This was at the top of Palantine Rd, just off Whitegates Drive. It's now a Domino's Pizza it seems according to Streetmap below.

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And here's another, although I'm not sure where, probably Central Drive.