Interview with Emirates Open Skies Magazine

How has the decline of coaling communities affected the physical environment?

Since the coal mine closures, many of the mining sites have been reclaimed and transformed into nature reserves and open spaces for the community. They have a distinctive appearance because the coal mines produced huge black mounds of waste material called spoil heaps, that could be seen on the edges of towns and villages across the region. They have subsequently been landscaped with hardy trees and grasses, creating vast man made environments where the contours of the land give clues towards its industrial past. In this project, I wanted to photograph the reinvented social uses of these former coal mining sites, documenting the change from places of work to landscapes of leisure. Driving around the region, there are occasionally industrial remnants of the mines to be seen from the road. Most strikingly, the huge steel winding towers that loom over the rows of ex miners houses at Clipstone, Nottinghamshire. Once the tallest of their kind in Europe, they are a Grade II listed structure but sadly stand in a state of dereliction, gradually rusting in the open elements.

You’ve spoken of artistry being a vital component of mining culture, which strikes me as fairly unusual. Why do you think that was such an important outlet?

Depictions of ex industrial communities often focus on deprivation and hardship. While it is important not to gloss over the serious economic and social effects of deindustrialisation, I wanted to make photographs that celebrated the cultural life of working class people. The Working Men’s Clubs that were the beating heart of industrial communities across Britain were a bastion of performance and creativity in their prime. They offered an opportunity for young musicians to cut their teeth and a place for people to come together to dance and enjoy themselves. Music and dance were always a major part of mining culture and still today, many of the brass bands that formed to represent the coal mines continue to rehearse and play in competitions. Following the decline of the mining industry, hundreds of Working Men’s Clubs closed down and now the shortage of local venues for entertainment and the arts is acutely felt in ex-industrial communities. These communities are repeatedly characterised as being uninterested in arts and culture, when in fact the real issue is difficulty of access due to low incomes and lack of provision locally. 

Did you find your background helpful in terms of convincing your subjects to be photographed and forming a connection with them?

I was born and grew up in Mansfield, an ex mining town in the Nottinghamshire coalfields. My work is semi-autobiographical and heavily influenced by my memories and cultural background. Often I am drawn to photograph people who remind me of characters from my childhood, and I enjoy to talk to my subjects at length about our shared experiences of the place we call home. Many photographers have captured the former industrial parts of Northern England and the Midlands as outsiders, but theirs will always be a distanced observation of the unfamiliar. My deep connection with the communities I have photographed in Thanks Maggie has certainly helped me to capture the people and places that makeup a major part of my own identity. 

Was there anyone in particular you got close to during the project? Did anyone present a point of view that changed your mind about the industry?

While I was visiting Eastwood, Nottinghamshire, - the mining town birthplace of the early 20th century novelist and poet D. H. Lawrence - I met David Coleman in a cafe. I was chatting with him about my project when he launched into a story about a miner who was struck by a runaway train underground and was found clinically dead at the scene. Paramedics managed to resuscitate him and take him to hospital but Doctors doubted he would walk or talk again. I asked David what happened to this man, and he replied “you’re looking at him!”

The accident left David unable to go back to work as a miner but he found a passion for writing and performing poetry he never knew before. He is inspired by the writing of D. H. Lawrence and performs his poems in schools and to community groups in the region. His story made me appreciate how dangerous working in the coal mines could be and gave me a great sense of respect for the men who worked in those difficult conditions. 

How did you avoid falling into Northern England photographic tropes?

In photographic and artistic portrayals of working class communities, it is easy for the privileged eye to define people by what they do not have, rather than what they share in. I was determined from the outset to make a series of photographs that tackled the socioeconomic issues caused by deindustrialization, while never denying my sitters their own individual identities. When photographing parts of the country that have seen industrial decline, many photographers in the past have fallen into the trap of representing people merely as visual tokens of deprivation. Instead, I asked myself “What makes this person who they are?” The answer is, of course, their passions and hobbies, beliefs and relationships with others. This is always my guiding principle when making my work.

How does the feeling about the mining industry differ between the generations?

The last coal mine in Nottinghamshire, Thoresby Colliery, closed in 2015 bringing an end to hundreds of mining years in the county. In some communities, the effects of industrial decline are still being felt as the employment opportunities the collieries offered have not been replaced, or in some cases substituted with low paid, zero hour contract work. Brightly painted colliery winding wheels mark the end of one village or the beginning of another, they serve as proud monuments to a thriving industrial past. Despite this, many young people growing up in the region today would not know what coal is or more lamentably, how the economic and social legacy of colliery closures could affect their opportunity in life.

The portraits (like Ashley on a tea break, Stephen at home with jukebox, Jo the club singer)  – could you describe what you wanted to achieve with the lighting, which seems almost cinematic?

When I am taking pictures, I make decisions about the lighting based on how I imagine the final image to look. Sometimes I will turn off any artificial light and simply use natural light through a window, as in the portrait of Ashley at Thoresby Colliery. Other times, I will close the curtains or do what is necessary to block out the natural light so that I can capture the atmosphere created by artificial lighting, like in the portrait of Jo the club singer. I am also always thinking of how to expose the photograph, using underexposure or overexposure to capture  the mood of a scene in the way I perceived it at the time. Occasionally, I will underexpose the available light and add a flash positioned off-camera to make an image with dynamic.