PHIL MAXWELL

I was introduced to Colin O’Brien by the author of the ‘Spitalfields Life’ blog in 2011. I had never heard of him before but ‘The Gentle Author’ told me he was excited by Colin’s photographs. In the years that followed I became a devoted fan of his work. Colin was championed by ‘Spitalfields Life’ and he became a regular contributor to the blog. He started taking photographs in his early childhood in Clerkenwell and continued to document London life until his sudden death a few days ago.

Raymond Scallionne and Razi Tuffano in Hatton Garden in 1948, one of the first pictures taken by Colin O’Brien when he was eight years old.

Members of the Leinweber family playing darts at the Metropolitan Tavern, Clerkenwell Rd, 1954.

Colin was very modest about his work. He was a self taught photographer who loved the environment he lived in and was driven to capture it on film. For decades he diligently recorded the world around him and never sought any recognition. He was passionate about the world around him and was able to convey that passion in his photographs.

The photograph above was taken a year after I was born. It is extraordinary for a number of reasons. Technically flawless it is also perfectly framed. The lighting reminds me of the black and white late 1930s films I used to watch on TV as a child. However, Colin didn’t have a clever group of lighting technicians at his disposal; he makes effortless use of available light. The darts match evokes for me memories of  the pub life I experienced as a child. Many photographers would automatically shy away from pressing the shutter at the angle Colin has chosen. They would seek to avoid the globes of light that sprinkle across the frame. Not Colin. He relishes the challenge and in so doing introduces an additional dreamlike surreal quality to the photograph.

The photograph below was taken in Clerkenwell Road in the 1950s. Both subjects are aware of Colin’s presence. At an early age he was learning the art of street photography and it seems he was generally comfortable with taking photographs openly when he was close to his subjects. I would imagine that at this stage people in his neighbourhood were used to seeing him walk around with his camera.

Colin’s mother puts tea in the teapot, in the scullery at Victoria Dwellings, nineteen fifties (below). This photograph reminds me of a shot from a documentary film of working class life made by the Crown Film Unit. However it is more relaxed than anything I have ever seen in a, usually staged, film of that period. Colin was effortlessly and authentically recording the rituals of working class life in a way that went far beyond the usually patronising images of the period.

Linda Leinweber takes a nap, 117 Victoria Dwellings, nineteen fifties (below).

Colin’s father eats breakfast before work at the Mount Pleasant Sorting Office (below). Note that Colin resists the temptation to move his father around the table to the left in order to avoid the light gushing in from the window. He records the scene as it is and captures the essence of his father’s preparation for the hard days work ahead. I can imagine his father (who must have been very supportive of his son’s photographic inclinations) telling him to hurry up and take the shot. We are left with an affectionate portrait and a magnificent still life on the table.

Jimmy Wragg and Bernard Roth jumping on a bomb site in Clerkenwell, late fifties (below). Colin’s mates were obviously at ease with his camera; consequently he was able to eloquently record teenage life in the fifties from the ‘inside’. Has Colin asked Jimmy and Bernard to perform in front of the camera or has he captured a spontaneous moment in time? It doesn’t really matter as the result is magnificent.

Accident at the junction of Clerkenwell Rd and Farringdon Rd, 1957 (below). Colin clearly had a natural curiosity about the world from an early age. I can imagine him grabbing his camera as soon as he heard the crash outside his flat window. He must have been fascinated by the street from an early age and he no doubt studied life outside his window assiduously.

Mrs Leinweber divides the Shepherd’s Pie among her family, Victoria Dwellings, 1959 (below). This photograph reminds me of Vermeer’s painting ‘The Milkmaid’. What more can I say?

‘Milkmaid’ by Vermeer

Colin’s mother outside her door, 99 Victoria Dwellings, nineteen fifties (below). I reckon that it might have been with some reluctance that Colin’s mum posed for this photograph outside the family home. Colin obviously had a composition in mind before she acceded to his request. Perfectly composed all eyes lead to his mum.

Boy at Woolworths, Exmouth Market, 1954 (below). Colin had an innate ability to discover what most of us overlook. Amid all the hubbub of the store Colin draws our attention to the boys detached moment of fascination with the display in front of him.

I will miss Colin’s photographs in ‘Spitalfields Life’. His unexpected death has shocked us all. Some time ago Hazuan Hashim and myself had the good fortune to have Colin and his delightful partner Janet around for dinner. Somewhat in awe of his photography I remember being a little nervous about the occasion. I needn’t have been. Colin was an amusing, unpretentious and self deprecating man. He was excellent company and would only talk about himself with some reluctance. He loved working with the Gentle Author on Spitalfields Life and produced many wonderful photographs in recent years. Thankfully he received recognition for his lifetime of photography in his later years. He leaves behind an astonishing and unique legacy of photographs from the 1950s to the present day. His book London Life encapsulates much of this legacy.

Colin at the launch of his book ‘London Life’ in 2015

Thanks to both Colin and Janet for generously sponsoring my book Brick Lane. We will all miss you Colin and thanks for taking the picture of Hazuan and myself (below) at Bob Mazzer’s exhibition opening in 2014; we will treasure it.

You can find more of Colin’s photographs at Spitalfields Life