Bernd and Hilla Becher : Artist Profile

Bernd and Hilla Becher, a collaborative force in the world of photography, embarked on a project that redefined the very notion of photographic representation. Their work, a meticulous and dispassionate cataloguing of industrial structures, transformed the way we perceive both the landscape and the camera's capacity to document it. They were not, perhaps, artists in the conventional sense, but rather chroniclers, driven by an almost scientific impulse to classify and preserve a disappearing world. Their black and white images, devoid of dramatic lighting or sentimental framing, presented blast furnaces, water towers, grain elevators, and other functional structures with an austere beauty that resonated far beyond the realms of documentary photography.  

The Bechers' project began in the late 1950s, a time when photography was moving beyond the pictorialism that had dominated its early years. They were influenced, perhaps, by the New Objectivity movement in German art of the 1920s, which championed a realistic and unidealised representation of the world. One might also detect echoes of August Sander's ambitious project to document the German people through portraiture, though the Bechers' focus was on the industrial landscape rather than the human face. They sought, as they often stated, to create an objective record, a typology of industrial forms. “We don’t have any message,” Bernd Becher once said. “We are only interested in the object.” This seemingly simple statement belies the profound impact of their work.  

What is important about the Bechers' work lies precisely in this self-imposed limitation. By stripping away subjective interpretation and focusing on the pure form of their subjects, they revealed the inherent beauty and complexity of these often-overlooked structures. They presented these industrial behemoths not as symbols of progress or pollution, but as objects worthy of attention in their own right. Their photographs, often presented in grids of similar structures, emphasised the variations within a type, revealing the subtle design choices and functional adaptations that shaped each individual building. This typological approach, reminiscent of scientific classification, allowed viewers to see the underlying logic and evolution of industrial architecture. “We wanted to make the object speak,” Hilla Becher explained. “We didn’t want to add anything.”  

The Bechers' work evolved over the course of their career, though their fundamental approach remained consistent. They refined their technique, achieving a remarkable clarity and depth of field in their images. They also expanded their geographical scope, documenting industrial structures not just in Germany, but also in other parts of Europe and North America. Their early work focused primarily on the heavy industry of the Ruhr Valley, the heartland of German industrial production. Later, they turned their attention to other types of structures, such as water towers and grain elevators, broadening their survey of the industrial landscape. While their subject matter expanded, their photographic style remained remarkably consistent, a testament to their unwavering commitment to their chosen method.  

The Bechers published a number of influential books throughout their career, each one a meticulously crafted collection of their photographs. Anonymous Sculpture (1970) was an early and important work, showcasing their typological approach to industrial structures. Other significant publications include Blast Furnaces (1971), Water Towers (1988), and Grain Elevators (1997). These books, with their stark black and white images and minimal text, became essential references for architects, artists, and anyone interested in the built environment. Their exhibitions, too, were significant events, often featuring large grids of photographs that transformed the gallery space into a kind of industrial museum. One recalls the austere beauty of their installations, the sheer number of images creating a powerful cumulative effect.  

The Bechers' work occupies a unique place in the history of photography and art. It challenged the traditional notions of artistic expression, blurring the lines between documentary photography and fine art. Their influence can be seen in the work of many contemporary photographers, particularly those who explore the relationship between landscape, architecture, and industrialisation. Their work also resonated with artists working in other media, influencing conceptual art and minimalism. One might argue that their detached, objective approach paved the way for a new kind of photographic practice, one that prioritised concept and documentation over subjective expression. As the art critic and curator Douglas Fogle noted, "The Bechers’ photographs are not simply documents of industrial structures; they are also meditations on the nature of representation itself."  

The Bechers' influence is vast and continues to grow. They have inspired generations of photographers to look at the world with fresh eyes, to see the beauty in the mundane and the significance in the seemingly insignificant. Their students at the Düsseldorf Art Academy, including photographers such as Andreas Gursky, Thomas Struth, and Candida Höfer, have gone on to become major figures in contemporary photography, each developing their own distinct style while sharing a common interest in the objective representation of the world. While not explicitly acknowledging the Bechers as an influence, one can see a certain kinship in the work of these artists, a shared commitment to clarity, precision, and the exploration of the contemporary landscape.  

The Bechers' legacy lies in their profound impact on the way we perceive the world around us. They taught us to see the beauty and complexity in the industrial landscape, to appreciate the ingenuity and functionality of the structures that shape our lives. Their work is a testament to the power of photography to document, to classify, and to reveal the hidden order of things. They transformed the way we think about photography, moving it beyond the realm of personal expression and into the realm of objective observation. "They are not artists in the traditional sense," wrote the critic and curator Jeff Wall, "but their work is art, of a very high order." This assessment captures the essence of the Bechers' contribution, their ability to transcend the conventional categories of art and photography and create a body of work that is both aesthetically compelling and historically significant. Their photographs, with their stark beauty and unwavering focus, stand as a powerful reminder of the industrial age and its enduring impact on the world we inhabit.

Hannah Starkey: Artist Profile

Hannah Starkey’s photographs are not about grand gestures or dramatic narratives. They are about the quiet moments, the fleeting interactions, the subtle dramas that unfold in the everyday lives of women. They are about observation, empathy, and the unspoken narratives that shape female experience. Starkey’s work, one might argue, is a kind of visual anthropology of contemporary womanhood, a study of gesture and pose, of the spaces women occupy and how they inhabit them. Her images, often coolly detached yet deeply felt, are both familiar and unsettling, reflecting the complexities and contradictions of modern life. They are, to my mind, less about the what and more about the how – how women present themselves to the world, how they navigate the spaces they occupy, how they perform the delicate dance of identity. As Starkey herself has noted, “When I first started out, photography was very male and not really considered art. I didn’t set out to have a feminist agenda, it was more that my interest in making work about women comes from the simple fact that I am one. That commonality of experience is at the heart of what I do as an artist.”  

Starkey's work exists in a complex dialogue with the history of art and photography. One detects echoes of the Pre-Raphaelites, their attention to detail, their focus on female beauty, their penchant for narrative suggestion. There's a hint of Degas's voyeuristic gaze, his intimate glimpses into the lives of women, though Starkey’s perspective is fundamentally different. It’s not the male gaze looking at women, but something more nuanced, a recognition of female agency within the act of being observed. As Susan McCrory observes, “Some critics have read sadness and loneliness on the faces of the women in her photographs. To me they seem lost in a vast expanse of thought.” This “vast expanse of thought,” I’d argue, is crucial to understanding Starkey’s project. It's not simply about capturing a likeness, but about suggesting the internal world of her subjects. Her influences, as she explains, are diverse: “In the beginning, I wanted to create a hybrid out of the different approaches I had been taught, by somehow bringing together the emotive language of documentary with the slickness of advertising and the observational style of street photography. I think I’ve become more reflective and considered, but the performative element has been a constant.”  

Her work also engages with the history of photography, though she rarely makes explicit references. One might think of the street photography of Helen Levitt, her ability to capture the fleeting moments of everyday life. Or the staged tableaux of Jeff Wall, his carefully constructed narratives that blur the lines between reality and fiction. But Starkey’s work is quieter, more understated. It’s less about the dramatic event and more about the subtle nuances of human interaction. As she has said, “I’m interested in the everyday. The things that we often overlook, the moments that pass us by. These are the moments that make up our lives, and they are the moments that I want to capture.” The book Pleasures and Terrors of Domestic Comfort, as she notes, also played a significant role, exposing “the anxieties at the heart of the American ideal of home through images by the likes of Nan Goldin, William Eggleston and Cindy Sherman.”  

What, then, is the importance of Starkey’s work? It lies, it is argued, in its ability to make the ordinary extraordinary. She finds beauty in the mundane, poetry in the everyday. Her photographs are not about sensational events or dramatic occurrences. They are about the quiet moments of reflection, the fleeting interactions with strangers, the subtle gestures that reveal so much about human experience. They are, in a sense, portraits of contemporary life, but portraits that are not focused on individual personalities, but on the shared experiences of womanhood. It's not about celebrating the exceptional, but about acknowledging the significance of the ordinary. As she has explained, her interest lies in “explorations of everyday experiences and observations of inner city life from a female perspective.”

Starkey’s work has evolved over time, though her core themes have remained consistent. Her early photographs, often taken in public spaces, focused on the interactions between women and their surroundings. They explored the ways in which women navigate the urban landscape, the subtle power dynamics that play out in public spaces. Later, her work began to focus more on interior spaces, on the private moments of reflection and introspection. These images, often more intimate and contemplative, explore the inner lives of women, their thoughts, their feelings, their dreams. There's a shift from the public performance to the private contemplation, a movement inwards, exploring the psychological landscape of her subjects. This exploration of the inner world, the “unknowable depth of the female subject’s character and personality,” as McCrory puts it, is a constant thread throughout her work. As she has explained regarding her process, “I think I’ve become more reflective and considered, but the performative element has been a constant.”

Her use of colour has also evolved. While her early work was often characterised by a muted palette, she later began to incorporate more vibrant colours. These colours, however, are never simply decorative. They add another layer of meaning, enhancing the emotional impact.

Starkey's books are not simply collections of images; they are carefully curated narratives. They offer a glimpse into her world, a world of quiet observation, subtle interaction, and unspoken narratives. Her exhibitions, too, are carefully considered experiences. They are not simply displays of individual photographs, but immersive environments that invite the viewer to engage with her work on a deeper level. They become spaces for reflection, mirroring the contemplative nature of the images themselves. Her MA show, as she recalls, “set me up. Suddenly I was in demand and simultaneously I became very aware of the different space that women occupy in the photography world, both as practitioners and subjects.” This early success led to her first solo exhibition in 1999 at Cornerhouse, Manchester, further solidifying her position in the art world.  

Starkey’s work occupies a unique position in the history of photography. She is not a photojournalist, nor is she a fashion photographer. She is something more, a visual poet of the everyday. Her work resonates with the tradition of street photography, but it is also deeply personal and introspective. It engages with the broader themes of contemporary art, such as identity, gender, and representation. She's part of a generation of artists exploring the complexities of contemporary life, using photography as a tool for social commentary and personal exploration. As she has observed, “I have been acutely aware of that ever since, the ways in which women are constantly evaluated and judged. My gaze is not directed in that way. A lot of what I do is about creating a different level of engagement with women, a different space for them without that judgment or scrutiny.”  

It is difficult to quantify the influence of an artist, but it is clear that Starkey’s work has resonated with a wide audience. Her photographs have been exhibited in galleries and museums around the world, and they have been published in numerous books and magazines. Her work has undoubtedly influenced other photographers, particularly those working in the field of portraiture and social documentary. Her focus on the everyday, her quiet observation of female experience, has opened up new ways of seeing and representing women in photography. As she has said, her photographs are “explorations of everyday experiences and observations of inner city life from a female perspective,” and it is this perspective, this nuanced understanding of female experience, that forms the core of her legacy. And, as she notes, she is also inspired by “how younger female photographers are making their presence felt. It just feels like things are opening up because so many young women are expressing themselves through photography.”  

Starkey’s legacy lies in her ability to capture the quiet drama of the everyday, to reveal the beauty and complexity of female experience. Her photographs are not just images; they are invitations to look more closely, to see more deeply, to understand the unspoken narratives that shape our lives. They are, in short, a vital contribution to our understanding of the contemporary world. Her work, one suspects, will continue to resonate, to challenge, and to inspire for many years to come. It's a body of work that asks us to pay attention, to look beyond the surface, and to recognise the epic within the everyday, the monumentality within the seemingly mundane.