Irony, humour and horror
Explores the engrossing and stirring
even before his trip. He visited after most of the major battles had taken place, their stories already related at length in the press. Tennyson’s poem The Charge of the Light Brigade had become a sensation the previous year.
Tennyson’s influence on Fenton is marked. One of Fenton’s most reproduced photographs was a landscape that he titled Valley of the Shadow of Death, taken while under enemy fire. It is a remarkable illustration of Tennyson’s poem: “Theirs but to do and die, into the valley of Death rode the six hundred.”
Presented here alongside work by other photographers of the time – James Robertson’s pale, utilitarian Crimea landscapes; William Edward Kilburn’s solidly composed portrait of Florence Nightingale – Fenton’s work is dazzling by comparison. He has an eye for quirks of detail, as well as for capturing fleeting facial expressions.
Some of his equipment is recorded in an image by Fenton of his own mobile darkroom, a “Photographic Van”, in which his compact wagon appears like a caravan belonging to a travelling magician. Part of the exhibition is given over to explanation and reproduction of his process, an illuminating touch.
There’s great humour and irony in much of Fenton’s work. A compelling image of three officers sharing drinks in a relaxed pose is titled Hardships in the Crimea, a nod to British stoicism in the face of horrendous conditions. Dromedary is my favourite photograph here, however: it’s an absurd portrait of a hairy camel, whose beatific facial expression is the central focus.
As well as highlighting some charming details, many photographs are historically significant in themselves. An eerie portrait of Lord Balgonie shows the subject with haunted eyes staring into the middle distance, and is now thought to be the first photographic record of shellshock. Fenton does not appear to have photographed Florence Nightingale, who was in the Crimea at the same time as him, but he did photograph women making contributions to the war. Vivandière is a stunning capture of a competent-looking woman in military garb, one of many women who would have performed domestic duties for the military regiments.
Sadly, the original Thomas Barker painting that used Fenton’s images as source material is in a private collection, and only reproduced as a print here. It would have been wonderful to see it in the flesh. It would have also been good to see examples of the Victorian obsession for objets trouvés – such as locks of hair, pipes or trinket boxes belonging to significant people.
Nonetheless, this engrossing show proves that Roger Fenton’s unique and pioneering skill as a war photographer has more than stood the test of time. It plunges you into the early days of war photography, which were to change public attitudes to war and news reporting forever.