#seacoal

[tumbleringquotes]

Christopher David Killip (11th July 1946 – 13th October 2020)

Cookie in the Snow, Seacoal Camp, Lynemouth, Northumberland, 1984

[hymnesalanuit]

[theworkshopn4]

S E A. C O A L While on one of my favourite beaches for pigment hunting, Kintra (Isle of Mull), I found small little lumps of shiny black rock. Well, I thought it was rock until I picked it up. It was super light weight and although solid I could tell it would break up easily. It was the first pigment I tested when I got back to London after Christmas. I was so excited by this new pigment. A deep, rich, dark black pigment. A pigment that I knew I would be using a lot of. I’m pretty sure it’s sea coal but in my research most sea coal is found washed up on the east coast of Scotland from the North Sea. Swipe to see it in rock form. If anyone’s got better ideas I’m all ears! #seacoal #blackpigmebt #abstractartist #abstractart #newpainting #blackpaint #handmadewatercolour #handmadepaint #naturalpigment #veganartist #theotherartfairldn #delphianopencall (at London, United Kingdom) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cac3LlSMzpx/?utm_medium=tumblr

[mydustyartbooks-blog]

Seacoal - Chris Killip

Steidl 2011

Chris Killip (1946) is a photographer from the UK who is well known and respected for documenting life in the 80’s under Thatcher’s Britain. “Seacoal” is about a community living and collecting coal on a beach in Northern England in the early 80’s. This book has always had my heart, with it’s gritty black and white pictures that show so much movement and energy, it feels like you are right there on the beach with them. Even without knowing the full story you can feel the photographer is there in the images, not on the side-lines, not being voyeuristic, but completely present. When you hear the full story you will understand why.

Chris spend years trying to get access to this community, but every time he set up his camera at the beach, they would harass him and even physically threaten him. Every time he got chased away, he swore he would never come back again. But something kept pulling him back in. After 8 years of trying he finally got access, when after an attack and a dramatic fall in the sand he decided to confront these man in their favourite pub. When he told them who he was and why he was there, they didn’t believe him. They thought of him as a government spy, or at least an unwanted intruder. Then a guy walked into the bar who recognized him from years before during another shoot and validated his identity to the rest. This man was the key to Killip’s access, as he was an important member of the community. Sometimes a lucky event can help, as the result of karma or persistence. Or both.

Chris then lived for 14 months on a caravan on the beach to make this project. His endurance and passion amazes me and I think it’s precisely that which you can sense in his photo’s. It’s not about his ego, he was just genuinely attracted to something that didn’t feel the same way about him. In a time when I feel like a lot of photographers are making projects with ego or a quick success as a motivation, Chris Killip is a breath of fresh air from the past. I always enjoy going through this book so much.

“I was just trying to understand then that no matter what you did, you inevitably had a political position. How declared it was was up to you, but it was going to be inherent in the work, and it was something you should think about as a maker. I never worried about my position in the art world. I thought time and history would ultimately judge me, that my job was to get on with it, to make the work and to make it wholeheartedly from what had informed me.” – Chris Killip interview from his website

This project is extra special because this industry disappeared not long after. Killip managed to document the lives of people in a time and a place that will never be like that again. This for me proves the importance of photography. It accesses emotions through a visual language that goes much deeper than words can. Now this community and their visual language is preserved until the end of time. Or at least for as long our books will survive.  

[carolinehilde]

#seacoal and #driftwood #sablegris et #boisflotté #textures #erosion https://www.instagram.com/p/Bv9mHPiAxX2/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=d7b3qcwo4bli

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Bringing stuff, taking stuff away ••• #alwayschanging #transience #seacoal (at Redcar)

[alexcissokho]

[journeyintowriting]

Daily Shakespeare

Seacoal: This man said, sir, that Don John, the Prince's brother, was a villain. Dogberry: Write down Prince John a villain. Why, this is flat prejury, to call a prince's brother villain. Borachio: Master Constable- Dogberry: Pray thee, fellow, peace. I do not like thy look, I promise thee.

Much Ado About Nothing Act 4, Scene 2