In 2003 Tate Modern pinched How You Look At It, the millennium year photo retrospective in Hanover and in doing so made the first foray by the Tate into photography.  Although not a single photograph made by a Brit in the last hundred years had made it into the original show it was tweaked to become Cruel and Tender which was both cool and justifiably popular.

For some time the Tate had been aware of the need to address the ambiguities in their relationship to photography and were conscious of the resulting missed opportunities. It had always been seen either as the business of other institutions (the V&A, Hayward, Barbican etc.) or of interest to themselves only in relation to an artist’s central body of work in another medium. The effect was curious and at times ludicrous such as when conceptual artist Keith Arnatt experienced the ignominy of no longer being collected when his work became purely photographic.

While Tate Modern was making its move it was rumoured that Tate Britain were working on their own inaugural photographic exhibition and the word was that it would be based around the Mass Observation work of the late 30s to the early 50s. It is clear that at some stage the temptation to up the ante became irresistible and How We Are actually draws from the whole history of British photography while still maintaining the original focus on socially engaged photography. The result is certainly a significant collection of images and worthy of debate.

First Moves, in gallery one, opens with a set of pristine 1840s salt prints by Fox Talbot. some of the first photographs ever made. These images of doorways and ladders are both a fitting metaphor for the brand new medium and simply incredible momentos of the massive scientific achievement in which Fox Talbot was a key innovator. What with
P H Emerson’s lush 1880s documentary images of the Norfolk broads and Julia Margaret Cameron’s celebrated portraiture and Arthur Munby’s 1860s record of working women this room alone offers huge scope for teaching purposes.

The traditional curator’s role of educator underpins this exhibition and very quickly the key academic thrust is established, that the urge to define nationhood has been a key recurring endeavour for photographers in this country. This is not new. A similar position has previously been advanced in other countries - and it is very appealing. It is argued here that in times of change - whether due to social, economic, artistic or political transition - there has always been a resulting impulse to either celebrate or call into question specific aspects of British identity. The objectivity of the medium which proved problematic and limiting for some with its mundane tendencies has, for that very reason, served admirably as a humble but persuasive witness.

Over one hundred and fifty photographers are displayed through six galleries, each room chronologically spanning a few decades. Work is presented in a variety of forms be it framed original prints or illustrated books and magazines and as digitised slideshow sequences on plasma screens. It is clear that the effort to pull this quantity of work together has been substantial. On the basis of the sheer quantity alone this show demands several hours of viewing.

Many of the names you expect to be here are here but the role call is by no means comprehensive and there must be many wounded egos out there. They shouldn’t feel too aggrieved as many of the photographers who have been included are here in a fairly nominal capacity, with only a few prints to encapsulate a lifetime’s output. Furthermore, in such circumstances the choice of prints becomes particularly critical and it is soon apparent that the selection process has repeatedly fallen short and some contributions look fairly insignificant. Oddly, this may be a subtle point. The sweep of the show is so grand that the work of an individual is not deemed too consequential. In the unrelenting push for definition of nationality individuals and groups may participate but no-one can claim to be more than simply part of the process.

The value system being expressed here is one of measured support of class struggle and a call for cultural inclusivity. In the face of this individuality is seen as fairly irrelevant - whichever side of the lens you are on. People are invariably reduced to being treated as types and in a very real sense exploited for content by even the most sympathetic of photographer who arrives and shoots and leaves. While the moral framework for much of the work is therefore questionable it could be claimed that the end justifies the means and perhaps that is so. Admittedly, the support that elsewhere has been directed into local community initiatives to engage and empower under-privileged social groups has unfortunately achieved little of wider significance.

A traditional gentle English socialism runs through much of the work here. None of the images depict outright civil unrest, malevolence or even defiance. There are no reminders for example of events in Northern Ireland, the 1980s miner’s strike, the inner city riots or the Greenham Common protest. As for the specific claim to represent how we are the outcome, inevitably, can at best only be a series of photographic suggestions about how we were. Such interpretations fly in the face of even the most vague post modernist sensibility. Of more concern is that those similar strands of socio-cultural photography in France, Germany and America clearly display far more commitment and creative courage.

The show derives its name from Euan Duff’s 1971 book of social documentary photographs. One of its key aims was to dispense with the attachment to an unequivocal photograph and to open up the possibilities of meaning through montage. At the time critic John Berger was sufficiently impressed to write an introduction stating that there was no “comparable contemporary English work of literature or visual art which so gently, so persistently and so finally brings one face to face with the wretchedness of the kind of society in which we live”. Intriguingly, sequences of photographs are spread across text-free pages, operating in place of the written word rather than as an accompaniment.

Tate Britain desperately needs reassurance in its efforts to rationalise its relationship with photography and its ambition to hit the ground running with its vision of a collective sensibility is totally understandable. The initial offering was never going to be straightforward and while for some it will be all to easy to dismiss this show as worthy but dull there is still much work here to admire and think about. For me this would include the following: Humphrey Spender’s Jarrow March, 1936 for Left Review. Charles Jones’ garden studies, 1905. Edith Tudor-Hart’s anti-fascist work - which contrasts well with the surrealists Beaton and McBean working at that time. Charlie Phillips in 60s Notting Hill - images suggesting a genuine connection can be achieved with people who are more than just subjects. Shirley Baker in 60s Salford capturing the consequences of the slum clearances - again a sharp contrast, this time to David Baileys’ Box of Pin-ups. Tony Ray-Jones’ capturing of witty juxtapositions and haunting faces. The lush landscape and colourful food illustration photography of the 40s and 50s. Bert Hardy’s post-war Picture Post work around the Elephant and Castle. Norah Smyth in East London. Roger Mayne’s 1957 work on Southam Street. The impact of the arrival of the Sunday Times and Observer magazines and the socially committed Magnum Group. The Exit photography Group in the 70s and the radical magazine Camerawork. Chris Killip’s skins and Robert Smithies’ mods and Derek Rodgers’ new romantics. Anna Fox’s workstations. Vanley Burke documenting black British life while Martin Parr satirised the white middle class from which he came. Paul Graham took to the road, literally, travelling the A1. Peter Mitchell busy in Leeds. Jason Ewans droll fashion shoot with young black lads kitted out in traditional English gent attire. Clive Landen’s road kill.

Final mention should go appropriately enough to the last piece in the show, Alastair Thain’s 2006 triptych consisting of portraits of marines. Each print is ten feet high and as a result the iris of an eye is as big as the palm of your hand. It is unclear if this piece is a critical comment on the British participation in the Iraq war but in fact that ambiguity is intriguing and refreshing. There is no doubt that the technical innovation required to create these images (using a NASA developed multiple lens camera for use on board satellites) reminds us that photographers are still engaged in technical battles in the production of new and intense imagery - and sometimes they clearly win.

How We Are: Photographing Britain: 22 May – 2 September 2007

How We Are Now

Submit a photo to the exhibition anytime until 25 July 2007. Images will be shown on plasma screens at the gallery and forty photographs will be chosen to form a display from 6 August – 2 September 2007. There are four themes: portrait, landscape, still life and documentary.

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tate exhibition website