Dockyard Doris
Dockyard Doris at the Brick Lane music hall
I first saw Colin Devereaux performing at the Lord Hood pub in the early 1980’s. Off stage Colin was a quiet and sensitive man. On stage as Dockyard Doris he was an outrageous performer with a wide repertoire influenced by music hall traditions.
Dockyard Doris at the Brick Lane music hall
Colin regularly appeared in pantomimes and was a regular performer at the Brick Lane music hall set up by Vincent Hayes in the 1990’s.
Dockyard Doris at the Brick Lane music hall in Brick Lane
These photographs were taken at the Brick Lane music hall in the mid 1990’s. The music hall has now moved from Brick Lane to a magnificent Victorian church in Canning town. It is now the only fully functioning music hall venue in the UK.
Peter John and Dockyard Doris at the Brick Lane music hall
Colin Devereaux had a thirty year career in show business which included radio and TV appearances. After a long fight with cancer he died in 2001 aged 50.
Peter John and Dockyard Doris at the Brick Lane music Hall
I recall visiting him in his home in the 1990’s in Stepney. He was extremely knowledgeable about the history of music hall and he viewed himself as part of that rich tradition.
Chewing gum machines
Chewing gum machine on Brick Lane, 1984
As a child it was a treat to put a penny in the chewing gum machine outside the local newsagents. These machines were alluring because you could access them without parental supervision at any time.
Chewing gum machine on Vallance Rd, 2005
The chewing gum machine has proved to be an intrepid survivor of the street and is alive and well in East London. They are unnoticed by adults but are always set at a height accessible to a small child. Their bright colours make them difficult for a child to ignore.
Chewing gum machine next to shop entrance. Brick Lane early 1980's.
The child above is ripe for seduction by the chewing gum machine. He is the right height and he cannot even see over the counter in the shop. The machines are an apprenticeship into becoming a consumer. It is unlikely he will use the machine with his mother around.
Chewing gum machine in Fieldgate street, 2004
This chewing gum machine referees a heated conversation between two men on Fieldgate street. I always remember one of the most engaging attractions of these machines was the slow turn and clunk of the handle as the coin dropped into the compartment beneath the chewing gum; today it would be described by a marketing agency as a complete shopping experience.
Brick Lane launderette
A child peers through the entrance of the launderette at the photographer
In the 1980’s less people had a washing machine at home so they relied on their local launderette. Thousands of launderettes have now vanished and I can only think of a handful that remain in Tower Hamlets. I took these pictures of the launderette I used to use in Brick Lane in 1982. The launderette is now the Bengal Cuisine restaurant.
Looking into the street as her washing dries
Launderettes were great meeting places since they brought together disparate members of the community. A trip to the launderette could take up to two hours so you could occupy your time with conversation or reading. I would usually take my camera and take advantage of the lighting and stationary subjects.
Loading a machine for a wash
If the launderette was busy there would be a que for the dryers. This could could lead to a sharp exchange of words between customers where you could suddenly be asked to referee.
Having started his wash he is joined by his daughter
With the decline of launderettes a valuable meeting space has disappeared.
Mobile streets
Mobile phone in the city around 1989
The photograph above was taken before mobile phones were cheap enough for nearly everyone to buy. At this time the calls were expensive and the phones were often carried around as a status symbol. They were too large fit smugly into your pocket.
Conversation on Commercial street, 2006
I’ve always thought of myself as a ‘street photographer’. The street is unpredictable and a unique imprint of the community of an area. It’s a place where you will find intriguing juxtapositions of people and events. Capturing a moment in time on a street can be challenging but it holds many rewards for the photographer.Where I live in Whitechapel the street is like an extension of where you live. Many families live in small overcrowded flats so public spaces become a valuable place to meet people and talk. Often you will just bump into an acquaintance or a friend you’ve not seen for a long time and strike up a conversation. I’ve noticed a change in the dynamics of the street since the invention of mobile phones. Now many people cut themselves off from the engaging environment of the street by holding a conversation on their mobile.
Mobile texting on Vallance Rd, 2004
It seems that some people find it difficult to simply walk and enjoy the ever changing vibe of the street. Its as if this very basic human activity of walking has now been invaded by technology. It’s a revolution that has gone almost unnoticed and even though I’m guilty of answering calls on the street I can’t help thinking that the mobile phone has invaded the pleasures of walking.
Young man outside a book shop in Dhaka, 2008
Brick Lane bananas
Selling bananas on Brick Lane, 1988
Growing bananas is a big business. It takes months to clear the land, dig holes and put in banana plants. The bananas on display here are going cheap and will be perfectly edible if they are eaten within a couple of days before they begin to rot.
Bananas on Brick Lane
This trader is in his favourite spot by the bridge in Brick Lane. He attracts potential buyers with his loud cries suggesting that they are the best and cheapest bananas in the world.
Bananas grow in clusters, which are known as ‘hands’. A hand consists of 10 to 20 bananas. Here the trader uses his cluster as a prop for his street theatre sale. The man staring at the merchandise appears to be in a trance and is about to make a purchase.
Bananas on Brick Lane
The banana man is supported by strong vocal chords. He can be heard on the opposite side of Brick Lane. It would be very difficult to walk past him without considering a banana purchase. The banana man is a shrewd publicist for his goods. He knows that if he gets someone to stop and listen then he is half way to a sale.
The banana man takes a break and greets a friend
In the 1980’s the banana man was a permanent fixture at the sunday market on Brick Lane. He was a brilliant street performer who turned Brick Lane into his stage.
