Interview: Robin Friend
Martin Parr meets the photographer presenting an unvarnished view of the UK countryside in his first book
The photographer who’s presenting an unvarnished view of the UK countryside
Published in 2018, Robin Friend’s book Bastard Countryside collects 15 years worth of exploration of the British landscape, dwelling on what Victor Hugo called the ‘bastard countryside’: “somewhat ugly but bizarre, made up of two different natures”. Robin’s large-format colour images scrutinise these in-between, unkempt, and often surreal marginal areas of the country, highlighting frictions between the pastoral sublime and the discarded, often polluted reality of the present.
Starting from a classical landscape tradition, Friend’s meticulous 5x4 photographs are given heightened effect through exaggerations of colour and composition, embodying a friction between British pastoral ideals and present reality. In particular, Robin follows moments in which the expected narrative of the landscape is rudely interrupted: often through leakage, pollution, or the wreckage and containment of nature.
Martin Parr: When and how did you get involved in photography?
Robin Friend: I was given my first camera by my grandma when I was about 7 or 8. It was a funny-looking thing that took 110 film. I would use it in the backyard trying to get as close to nature as possible – there were a lot of blurry photos of various insects and plants!
A few years later my school friends and I were into skateboarding – I would borrow my parents’ video camera and put it through its paces trying to capture our tricks and general behaviour. I then got my hands on a 35mm SLR, and was hooked. There was something about the alchemy of analogue photography I found really special.
When did you start the Bastard Countryside project, and how long did it take to achieve?
The Bastard Countryside journey has been a long and winding one! Some of the pictures in the book were made 15 years ago, when I was studying at the University of Plymouth. Initially I was working on a number of different series. And then they gradually began to bleed into one another – it was a bit of a lightbulb moment when I realised that it was actually all one project. Seems obvious now, but it certainly wasn’t at the time.
What was the feeling you were trying to establish in these photos? It’s certainly not the usual celebration of all things beautiful we usually see in landscape photography.
When I started taking photos for Bastard
Countryside, I was just trying to make landscapes that were authentic to what I was experiencing out of the window of my car. The manicured Capability Brown type of landscape that is ‘picture-perfect postcard’ doesn’t interest me. It’s a fantasy, and not the landscape that the vast majority of us experience. The landscape I know is littered with rubbish, rusty old machines, death and the remnants or war and industry. That’s not to say that these things cannot be beautiful.
The title Bastard Countryside comes from a phrase coined by Victor Hugo in
“Often I would walk away from the subject without even taking a picture, because it wasn’t quite right”
Les Miserables. He was thinking about the city of Paris as an amphibian that was stretching out into the countryside and devouring everything in its path; a zone where the urban and rural, the manmade and natural combine and collide to create strange forms of beauty and ugliness. I really believe in this idea, and this is what I was trying to capture in the pictures: the landscape in its entirety, warts and all.
You shot this on film, then drum-scanned the images – and often changed the colours at that point. Why did you use film? Talk us through the technical side of your work.
I love the way large-format film photography slows you down as a picture-maker. Each exposure is incredibly precious, as it’s so costly. It makes you really think about the subject and composition before you pull the trigger. This was really important when I was
learning, as it made me become a better photographer. Often I would walk away from the subject without even making a picture, because it was not quite right for whatever reason. It forced me to make decisions.
I also love printing big, and used to spend a lot of time in the darkroom trying to craft the perfect print. Digital cameras and inkjet printing evolved significantly in the 15 years that I was working on the project. You can now get digital cameras that rival and exceed the resolution of large-format analogue.
In regards to the colours, I actually took more colour out than anything. By doing this the colours that are left are heightened and become very bold. A good example of this is the picture of the Grain Tower on the Thames. The light was incredible that evening, and a powerful red hue was cast as the sun was setting. To exaggerate this red on the tower, I took out all of the red in the foreground. It’s a very simple but extremely effective technique that I see as an extension of the dodging and burning I used to do to my prints in the darkroom.
Would you say you are a political photographer?Are you trying to have a climate change message in these images?
I don’t think in this day and age you can look at these pictures and not read them in regards to the ecological impact and damage we are doing to the planet. When I started the project, I was just excited to be making pictures.
Of course I knew there were issues of climate change being communicated in the work, but it wasn’t my all-encompassing reason for making pictures. But gradually, as I’ve got older and I think we’ve all become much more aware of our carbon footprint and the destruction we are doing to nature, a particular message has taken shape in the work. Photography is such a powerful tool because it can cut through everything and get to the heart of the matter, instantly.
In 2016, I made the picture of a beached sperm whale at Hunstanton in Norfolk.
[See page 140.] A few weeks before, I had been thinking about the gaps in Bastard
Countryside and what pictures were missing. I scribbled in my notebook that I wanted a picture of a beached whale: it would represent the increasing threat that humans pose to ecosystems. I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon and in such a dramatic setting, of course, but I knew it would only be a matter of time.
I’m now working on a new project that explores the knife epidemic and youth violence we are witnessing in London and other cities. It’s all linked to austerity and government cuts, and I don’t
think enough is being done to talk about the situation properly.
If you had asked me if I was a political photographer 10 years ago, I would have said no: I am just making projects I am interested in. But after recently become a father, my outlook has shifted. I care more. I think it’s really hard in this day and age, if you care about the world we are living in, not to be political or socially engaged in some way.
Do you return to any of the sites you have photographed?
Yes, some of these places really get under my skin, and I feel an urge to return. They are like old friends, so it’s nice to check in from time to time. There’s a shipwreck in Cornwall I have returned to over 10 times. It’s been there since 2003, which is coincidentally when I started making Bastard Countryside pictures. It’s slowly bleeding out and decomposing into the landscape, turning everything around
“Some places really get under my skin, and I feel an urge to return. They are like old friends”
it a red rusty ochre. I once spent the night on it. I thought it would be a cool thing to do. I was a little naïve!
There is also an abandoned slate mine in North Wales called Cwmorthin, which I visit every couple of years. It’s absolutely vast, a network of intricate tunnels that you can easily lose yourself in if you’re not careful.
How did the book come about?
I approached Sarah and Lewis at Loose Joints to help me with the design and sequence of a book dummy I was going to put forward for a book competition. They really loved the project, and offered to publish it themselves. Needless to say I jumped at the opportunity, knowing the quality of the books they produce.
How do you earn a living?
It’s a combination of things really. I sell editioned prints and work on various commissioned projects. I photographed 120 of Britain’s leading artists for the book Sanctuary: Britain’s Artists and their Studios
when I finished my MA at the Royal College of Art. We then followed this up with
Art Studio America. Both books were published by Thames & Hudson.
Last year, in collaboration with the choreographer Wayne McGregor, I wrote and directed Winged Bull in the
Elephant Case, a 30-minute film screened as part of the BBC’s Performance Live season. It explored the remarkable Second World War chapter in the National Gallery’s history, when its collection was stored in a disused Welsh slate mine.
Have you managed to show your work beyond the UK?
I’ve shown at a few art fairs and group shows, but never extensively. I would love to exhibit
Bastard Countryside in its entirety one day.
What are you working on next?
The project on knife violence that I mentioned before is beginning to take shape. It’s going to be a difficult project to make, and I’ve given myself a year to complete it. It’s a subject that is all too often discussed using numbers, statistics and generalisations. But for this project I will be blending personal, real-life testimonies of those who have been affected with analysis of many of the different causes and issues. Alongside these issues, I will also be exploring the charity organisations that doing are work to tackle this problem, and the many positive stories that are out there.
Once completed the aim is to seek funding to create a handbook that can be used in schools and given to young people to help educate them about this complex situation. I strongly believe a thoughtful and innovative visual account can help educate and act as a deterrent to those carrying or thinking about using knives.
Bastard Countryside has nearly sold out now. Will you produce a second edition?
I don’t think we will in the short term. The success has been overwhelming, and I thought it would be around for longer than six months, but it’s nice to send it out into the world and see what kind of life it now has now. Maybe one day we will do a second printing.
“I thought Bastard Countryside would be around for longer than six months, but it’s nice to send it out into the world and see what kind of life it now has now”