Last days for the trendy.

You can read the sad story of hubris that was the Biba boutique here. What was a trendy small boutique clothing store selling cheap schlocky fashion over-expanded into huge former department store premises on Kensington High Street and went spectacularly bust a couple of years later.

It was so dark in there you could barely make anything out, which seemed to me to deny the first rule of retail: Show the merchandise.

This was the first roll of TriX in my newly acquired Nikon F. This was a true beater, very much on its last legs, acquired for all of £50, but the charisma of the bruised, battered and worn body got me through the day, paired with a half decent Vivitar 28mm f/1.9 lens which was actually not half bad at full aperture, which is how these snaps were made in September, 1975.

** George Best was a drunken lout of an Irishman who was also the best attacking footballer of his time, playing for Manchester United, then the best club. He died of alcoholism, aged 39, in 2005.

Nikon F, 28mm f/1.9 Vivitar at full aperture, Tri X, ‘scanned’ on the Nikon D800. I sure could have used modern ISOs in this settting!

Posh.

The Serpentine Gallery in London’s Kensington Gardens opened in 1970 and by August, 1975, when these snaps were taken, was in full swing. The order of the day on a sunny weekend was for ‘happenings’, displays of thorough silliness enacted by art students.

This one focused on Victorian sports dressing and cricket, though the inclusion of women batsmen in the ensemble remains anathema, for this cricket fan, to this day. Women in cricket is just not …. cricket.

I had finally upgraded from the modest 50mm Leitz f/2.8 Elmar with its poor ergonomics (the collapsible lens mount was a useless nuisance) to what was then the ultimate 50mm lens, the early chrome 7 element Summicron, designed by that genius among optical engineers, Walter Mandler. Later versions tend to an acid-etched rendering in contrast (sorry!) to the far gentler results to be had with this wonderful piece of optical engineering.

Leica M3, 50mm Summicron, TriX, ‘scanned’ with the Nikon D800.

The seat of power.

Today’s Prime Ministers invariably prefer Number 11, next door – traditionally the home of the Chancellor of the Exchequer (UK Treasury Secretary). It’s considerably more spacious. Number 10 is the place if you want to swig an illicit bottle or two of booze while the rest of the nation is in lockdown. It has a larger garden for you and your scofflaw friends.

Anyway, good luck getting anywhere this close today. That would result in confiscation of your camera and a stretch in the slammer. Snapped in August, 1975:

Leica M3, 35mm Summaron, TriX ‘scanned’ with the Nikon D800.

Still resolute. Still broken.

The best illustration of how poorly the Nazis understood the staunch character of the British is seen in their targeting of the East End of London in their bombing of innocent civilians in The Blitz of World War II. The poorest people lived in the East End and the Germans’ thinking was that the best way to break England’s resolve was to drop bombs on them. What they succeeded in doing, of course, was simply to strengthen the courage and resolve of these very tough, admirable people.

By July, 1975, when these pictures were taken, Germany’s war debts had been forgiven by the United States and the German recovery was complete. By contrast, no such forgiveness was enjoyed by Americans’ staunchest allies, the British, who finally repaid their US loans just a few years ago. So much for the much vaunted ‘Special Relationship’. The East End of London remained very much broken when these images were made. And, my word, was it ever ugly to behold.

Is still don’t understand what was happening here. The fat fellow was heaping abuse on the figure in sackcloth and chains, tightening the latter now and then to his own great amusement as he poured invective on the poor person inside. A sado-masochistic treat which the crowd seemed quite fascinated by.

The crowd, fascinated

Update: I checked in with my sister, a UK resident to this day, and she writes: “It’s to do with the plague and the church. The bodies were wrapped in sackcloth for burial, the chains denoting that the deceased had died without the last rites! if you had the plague, no one would go near you to administer the last rites.” So there!

Leica M3, 35mm Summaron and 90mm Elmar, TriX, ‘scanned’ on the Nikon D800.

Thank you, Reg.

I will always be grateful to the nutty ‘sculptures’ of the English artist Reg Butler because the first image below won me the “Photographer of the Year” award from Britain’s ‘Photography’ magazine. This came with a nice cup (which I promptly dropped and dented!) and a bunch of camera gear. I had to return the cup a year later and they were nice enough not to notice. Equally as promptly I sold the latter (my camera was the Leica M3, enough said) and the proceeds kept me in film, paper and chemicals for the next twelve months. Thank you, Reg. These were all snapped in May, 1975.

The reactions of the viewers of Reg’s quite awful sculptures are what makes this series fun.

Photographer of the Year, Photography magazine, 1975.

Hmmm. Bummer.

Profile ….

…. and rear

Sneaking a peek ….

…. or two.

‘Living sculpture’ Gilbert, or George. I forget which.

Disinterested spectators.

Checking it out.

Leica M3, 35mm Summaron, TriX, ‘scanned’ on the Nikon D800.