Photo exhibition opens in Liverpool showing 1870s life in China (UK)
China: Through the Lens of John Thomson 1868-1872 is a photographic exhibition showcasing 150 images of China’s peoples and its landscapes. This is the first display outside of China devoted to John Thomson (1837-1921) and his 5,000 mile journey. Its premiere at the Merseyside Maritime Museum is fitting.
Born in Edinburgh two years before the birth of photography, Thomson’s Chinese work established him as the pioneer of photojournalism. The Scot first travelled to Asia in 1862, where he set up a professional studio. His major expedition did not begin until 1870, however, two years after he settled in Hong Kong. In those two years he travelled from Guangdong to Fujian, and then to eastern and northern China, including the imperial capital Beijing, before heading down to the River Yangtse.
The exhibition follows the same geographic route as if taking visitors on his journey. An equally deft touch - so deft, in truth, it is as equally in danger of being overlooked - is the fact that there are three different colours for the wall fabrics: wisteria for Beijing and the north, celadon-green for Shanghai and the Treaty ports on the east coast, and sea-green-blue for the south (Canton, Hong Kong and Macao). Within each section there are groupings of like subjects: the land and the river, the people, and the built environment. Add to this, a short film which features Thomson’s original photographs alongside modern versions and you have an exhibition thoroughly worth visiting as it tours the UK (Hartlepool and Glasgow in late 2010 and early 2011 respectively).
“These pictures are fascinating because they reveal a world that most artists of that period ignored,” said Betty Yao, curator and organiser of the world premiere at the Beijing World Art Museum, last April. “Most material from this late Qing era is stuffy, formal and posed, but Thomson’s work is full of life.”
What is doubly remarkable, though, was that Thompson - a foreigner let us not forget - had the ability to gain access to women and capture intimate moments while using cumbersome equipment at a time when glass plate negatives needed to be coated with emulsion before exposure.
Diverse shots including beautiful peasant girls and high-born ladies are indicative of Thomson’s work more generally. ‘A Cantonese Maid, Guangdong’ 1869-1871 is emblematic of his central focus and the human side. To be sure, it was his desire to present the human aspect of life in China through everyday street scenes which set him apart from his peers.
Orienatlist works - be they of art or literature, have a fraught history. Photography is no different. Ever since 1978 and the publication of Edward Said’s Orientalism, such masterpieces have been prone to attack by Saidian revisionists. As Roger Scruton writes in City Journal (‘What Ever Happened to Reason?’ Spring 1999), however, “It is the very attempt to embrace other cultures – an attempt that has no parallel in the traditional art of Arabia, India, or Africa – that makes Western art a hostage to Said’s cavilling strictures.”
Rest assured, though, charges relating to misrepresenting, sensationalising or generalising the East for imperial gain by the West cannot be laid here. Thomson had a great enthusiasm for exploring exotic places, admittedly. But so did many of his Victorian contemporaries. And while some may highlight his famous comment, “the camera should be a power in this age of instruction to instruct the age”, to use the word orienatlist to describe Thomson in anything other than a non-pejorative sense would be to seriously misrepresent, sensationalise and generalise the orientalist here.
Notwithstanding Said’s hegemonic-like presence over China: Through the Lens of John Thomson 1868-1872, however, it is still possible to appreciate the photographs solely for their pictorial beauty. Since we should not forget that it was Thomson’s curiosity for Eastern culture and love of China that brought us the first photographic social documentation of its people.
For those not yet convinced, you need only refer to three particular photographs:
‘Three Chinese Ministers at the Office for Foreign Affairs’ 1871-1872. In our first portrait, Thomson shows us that Chinese officials did not spend their time in idleness and luxury; rather they led laborious lives dressed in simple robes.
‘Prince Gong (1833-1898)’ 1871-1872. Thomson, in our second photograph, features a moderniser and a pro-Western figure at the heart of the Chinese government: one who was “quick of apprehension, open to advice, and comparatively liberal in his views”.
‘Pepo Dwellings in Zuojhen (Zuozhen) Tainan, Taiwan’ 1871. It is particularly interesting to note that while the Chinese regarded the Siraiya as ‘savages’, Thomson, in our third and final example, found their dwellings were “superior to those of Chinese squatters, and the people themselves were better dressed”.
When he returned to Britain, Thomson took up an active role informing the public about China, using his pictures to illustrate talks and lecture of his own, which earned him the moniker ‘China’ Thomson.
“He was caught up in the whole Victorian fervour for exploration and discovery,” explains Rachel Mulhearn, the Maritime Museum’s director. “Thomson himself commented that the steamships had brought places like China closer to the Western world, and that’s why it’s of particular interest to us.
“His project coincided with the emergence of the Blue Funnel line and Liverpool was forging strong trading links with China at the time,” she adds. “In 1868, he went to John Kong. Just two years previously, Blue Funnel had started its steamship services and, in 1869, the Suez Canal opened,” she tells Laura Davis at the Liverpool Daily Post.
Like many ports, its role was to serve the gateway between the world of raw materials and that of manufacturing. Early nineteenth century trade with China was no different. With the revision of the East India Company’s charter, Liverpool merchants sent out manufactured goods like railway engines, building materials and pottery and brought back raw materials like silk and cotton wool and, of course, tea.
As Ms. Mulhearn’s already said, in 1866 Alfred Holt’s Blue Funnel Line began steamer services between Liverpool and Asia. This legendary service was celebrated in a modest display in the same building back in 2006. As the exhibition webpage reminds those unable to attend, “The origins and development of Liverpool’s Chinese community, one of the oldest in Europe, are partly due to the Blue Funnel connection.”
To coincide with the exhibition, China: Through the Lens of John Thomson 1868-1872, paintings and ship models connected to the China trade are also on display. The ships featured in the paintings were voyaging between Liverpool and China around the time of Thomson’s expedition. And the ships models are examples of vessels that Thomson would have seen during his travels around China.
China: Through the Lens of John Thomson 1868-1872 runs at the Merseyside Maritime Museum, Albert Dock, Liverpool until 6 June 2010. Free admission. The exhibition catalogue is available for purchase from mid-March.
Born in Edinburgh two years before the birth of photography, Thomson’s Chinese work established him as the pioneer of photojournalism. The Scot first travelled to Asia in 1862, where he set up a professional studio. His major expedition did not begin until 1870, however, two years after he settled in Hong Kong. In those two years he travelled from Guangdong to Fujian, and then to eastern and northern China, including the imperial capital Beijing, before heading down to the River Yangtse.
The exhibition follows the same geographic route as if taking visitors on his journey. An equally deft touch - so deft, in truth, it is as equally in danger of being overlooked - is the fact that there are three different colours for the wall fabrics: wisteria for Beijing and the north, celadon-green for Shanghai and the Treaty ports on the east coast, and sea-green-blue for the south (Canton, Hong Kong and Macao). Within each section there are groupings of like subjects: the land and the river, the people, and the built environment. Add to this, a short film which features Thomson’s original photographs alongside modern versions and you have an exhibition thoroughly worth visiting as it tours the UK (Hartlepool and Glasgow in late 2010 and early 2011 respectively).
“These pictures are fascinating because they reveal a world that most artists of that period ignored,” said Betty Yao, curator and organiser of the world premiere at the Beijing World Art Museum, last April. “Most material from this late Qing era is stuffy, formal and posed, but Thomson’s work is full of life.”
What is doubly remarkable, though, was that Thompson - a foreigner let us not forget - had the ability to gain access to women and capture intimate moments while using cumbersome equipment at a time when glass plate negatives needed to be coated with emulsion before exposure.
Diverse shots including beautiful peasant girls and high-born ladies are indicative of Thomson’s work more generally. ‘A Cantonese Maid, Guangdong’ 1869-1871 is emblematic of his central focus and the human side. To be sure, it was his desire to present the human aspect of life in China through everyday street scenes which set him apart from his peers.
Orienatlist works - be they of art or literature, have a fraught history. Photography is no different. Ever since 1978 and the publication of Edward Said’s Orientalism, such masterpieces have been prone to attack by Saidian revisionists. As Roger Scruton writes in City Journal (‘What Ever Happened to Reason?’ Spring 1999), however, “It is the very attempt to embrace other cultures – an attempt that has no parallel in the traditional art of Arabia, India, or Africa – that makes Western art a hostage to Said’s cavilling strictures.”
Rest assured, though, charges relating to misrepresenting, sensationalising or generalising the East for imperial gain by the West cannot be laid here. Thomson had a great enthusiasm for exploring exotic places, admittedly. But so did many of his Victorian contemporaries. And while some may highlight his famous comment, “the camera should be a power in this age of instruction to instruct the age”, to use the word orienatlist to describe Thomson in anything other than a non-pejorative sense would be to seriously misrepresent, sensationalise and generalise the orientalist here.
Notwithstanding Said’s hegemonic-like presence over China: Through the Lens of John Thomson 1868-1872, however, it is still possible to appreciate the photographs solely for their pictorial beauty. Since we should not forget that it was Thomson’s curiosity for Eastern culture and love of China that brought us the first photographic social documentation of its people.
For those not yet convinced, you need only refer to three particular photographs:
‘Three Chinese Ministers at the Office for Foreign Affairs’ 1871-1872. In our first portrait, Thomson shows us that Chinese officials did not spend their time in idleness and luxury; rather they led laborious lives dressed in simple robes.
‘Prince Gong (1833-1898)’ 1871-1872. Thomson, in our second photograph, features a moderniser and a pro-Western figure at the heart of the Chinese government: one who was “quick of apprehension, open to advice, and comparatively liberal in his views”.
‘Pepo Dwellings in Zuojhen (Zuozhen) Tainan, Taiwan’ 1871. It is particularly interesting to note that while the Chinese regarded the Siraiya as ‘savages’, Thomson, in our third and final example, found their dwellings were “superior to those of Chinese squatters, and the people themselves were better dressed”.
When he returned to Britain, Thomson took up an active role informing the public about China, using his pictures to illustrate talks and lecture of his own, which earned him the moniker ‘China’ Thomson.
“He was caught up in the whole Victorian fervour for exploration and discovery,” explains Rachel Mulhearn, the Maritime Museum’s director. “Thomson himself commented that the steamships had brought places like China closer to the Western world, and that’s why it’s of particular interest to us.
“His project coincided with the emergence of the Blue Funnel line and Liverpool was forging strong trading links with China at the time,” she adds. “In 1868, he went to John Kong. Just two years previously, Blue Funnel had started its steamship services and, in 1869, the Suez Canal opened,” she tells Laura Davis at the Liverpool Daily Post.
Like many ports, its role was to serve the gateway between the world of raw materials and that of manufacturing. Early nineteenth century trade with China was no different. With the revision of the East India Company’s charter, Liverpool merchants sent out manufactured goods like railway engines, building materials and pottery and brought back raw materials like silk and cotton wool and, of course, tea.
As Ms. Mulhearn’s already said, in 1866 Alfred Holt’s Blue Funnel Line began steamer services between Liverpool and Asia. This legendary service was celebrated in a modest display in the same building back in 2006. As the exhibition webpage reminds those unable to attend, “The origins and development of Liverpool’s Chinese community, one of the oldest in Europe, are partly due to the Blue Funnel connection.”
To coincide with the exhibition, China: Through the Lens of John Thomson 1868-1872, paintings and ship models connected to the China trade are also on display. The ships featured in the paintings were voyaging between Liverpool and China around the time of Thomson’s expedition. And the ships models are examples of vessels that Thomson would have seen during his travels around China.
China: Through the Lens of John Thomson 1868-1872 runs at the Merseyside Maritime Museum, Albert Dock, Liverpool until 6 June 2010. Free admission. The exhibition catalogue is available for purchase from mid-March.