Kirstin Orr

An Investigation and Analysis of Working-Class Artists and Their Practice During the Thatcherite Era.

Fine Art (Hons)

By Kirstin Orr 2462513

A dissertation submitted in partial fulfilment of the requirements of a Bachelor of Arts (Hons) degree in Fine Art.

Duncan of Jordonstone College of Art and Design University of Dundee 2025

Abstract This dissertation investigates and analyses the photography of working-class artists Tish Murtha and Richard Billingham, focusing on their practice during the Thatcherite era.

The intention of this dissertation is to bring working-class artists to the forefront, emphasizing the adversities that communities faced during the barbaric period of Thatcherism. Chapter one divulges the marginalisation of the working-class by discussing Margaret Thatcher’s reactionary policies, as well as the impact Thatcherism had on the British artworld at the time. This chapter is crucial for the context of the dissertation, giving a deeper understanding of the art of Murtha and Billingham. The second chapter analyses two works by Tish Murtha from her photography book Youth Unemployment, referencing Murtha’s 1980 essay on unemployment and the impact of Thatcherism on her community.

Referencing Hal Foster’s writing on anti-aesthetics, this deepens understanding of Murtha’s documentary style of photography. The third chapter focuses on Richard Billingham, analysing three images from Billingham’s photobook Ray’s a Laugh. This unconventional family album provides a voyeuristic and intimate look into the impact Thatcherism had on individual families. Billingham’s art exposes the extremities of social tribulations that come alongside living in poverty, in a reclusive and claustrophobic fashion. Billingham’s idiosyncratic style of photography gives the analysis of the dissertation a distinct perspective. Lastly, the fourth chapter cross-examines the art practices of Murtha and Billingham. Both artist’s subject matter depicts a desperation for political and social change being adversely affected by Thatcherism. Another one of Murtha’s photographs from Youth Unemployment will be used to compare with one of Billingham’s from the previous chapter. With reference to Georges Bataille and Imogen Tyler’s writing, social abjection will be discussed in regards to Murtha and Billingham.

This chapter also dissects the divergence they both had in other ways; most notably, their

differing levels of success and fame. This comparison gives the dissertation a deeper understanding analysis of both artist’s practices.

Acknowledgements

In loving memory of Eric, Kay and Breagha.

Thank you to everyone in my life who has supported me throughout this process and my time studying, for there are too many to name, I am forever grateful.

Contents

List of Illustrations ………………………………………………………………………….1

Introduction ………………………………………………………………………………….2

Chapter One: Thatcherism and the British Artworld …………………………………….5

Chapter Two: The Art of Tish Murtha……………………………………………………10

Chapter Three: The Art of Richard Billingham ………………………………………….17

Chapter Four: Cross-Examination of Murtha and Billingham …………………………25

Conclusion ………………………………………………………………………………….36

Bibliography ………………………………………………………………………………..39

List of Illustrations Chapter Two Fig. 2.1: Tish Murtha, Cops Piss Off (1981), photograph. Image courtesy of Tish Murtha.

Fig. 2.2: Tish Murtha, Career’s Centre – Face in Gate (1981), photograph. Image courtesy of Tish Murtha.

Chapter Three Fig. 3.1: Richard Billingham, Untitled (1994), photograph. Image courtesy of Richard Billingham.

Fig. 3.2: Richard Billingham, Untitled (1995), photograph. Image courtesy of Richard Billingham.

Fig. 3.3: Richard Billingham, Untitled (1994), photograph. Image courtesy of Richard Billingham.

Chapter Four Fig. 4.1: Tish Murtha, Cardsharps (1981), photograph. Image courtesy of Tish Murtha.

Introduction This dissertation will investigate working-class artists Tish Murtha (1956-2013) and Richard Billingham (b. 1970) and analyse, using critical theory, their artworks that emerged during the Thatcherite era (1979-1997).

Chapter one will explain what Thatcherism is and what it entailed for those living in Britain at the time, especially for the working-class population. Details of Margaret Thatcher’s (1925-2013) social and economic policies explain how communities were further marginalized across Britain. This chapter will provide context for the investigation into artists Tish Murtha and Richard Billingham, who’s photography documented the realities of being working-class in Thatcher’s Britian. This will be crucial for the understanding of the artist’s subject matter and methodologies, etc. Additionally, an investigation into Thatcher’s impact on the artworld at the time as the political landscape can shape art practices with commentary from art critic John A. Walker. Moreover, there will be an investigation into how Thatcher’s monetarism effected grants to the British Arts Council and how this further impacted art practices. Artists and art critic’s reactions to Thatcherism will also be discussed, such as Ian Breakwell, Jann Haworth, John Berger and the Blk Art Group, providing context to the divisive atmosphere felt within the British artworld during this era.

Chapter two will investigate and analyse the artworks of Tish Murtha, who’s photography took place through the earlier stages of Thatcherism, documented in her photography book Youth Unemployment. This chapter will reference Murtha’s 1980 essay on the youth unemployment in Elswick, her critique of Thatcher’s policies and the impact they had on her community and family. Two of Murtha’s photographs from Youth Unemployment will be discussed, with reference to Hal Foster’s writing on anti-aesthetics; with anti-aesthetics

being precedent for Murtha’s art practice. Analysis of these photographs will establish Murtha’s affinity with her community. Drawing a comparison between Murtha and photographer Diane Arbus will be done in reference to Susan Sontag’s critique of Arbus in her book On Photography. This will open the discussion of how Sontag’s scrutiny of Arbus would likely never be applied to Murtha.

Chapter three focuses on the photography of Richard Billingham who’s art practice encompassed the later stages of Thatcherism (1990-1996), which was a continuation of Thatcher’s policies under new Conservative prime minister John Major (b. 1943).

Analysing three photographs from Billingham’s infamous book Ray’s a Laugh (1996), their subject matter provides an insight to the reality of working-class life and how the family were effected by mass unemployment, Thatcherite deindustrialization and an overall sense of hopelessness. Billingham’s art practice will also be analysed and how his voyeuristic approach to photography gives an honest depiction of his family, their dynamics and overall dysfunctional lifestyle. The subject matter displays the family’s navigation through unemployment, poverty, addiction and chronic boredom – all of which are possible repercussions of Tory austerity and living within Britain’s under-class population.

Chapter four will compare the art practices of Murtha and Billingham, acknowledging both the differences and similarities to their methodologies, subject matter, etc.

Additionally, another of Murtha’s photographs from Youth Unemployment will be used to compare to one of Billingham’s, with their striking parallelism. Referencing Georges Bataille’s 1934 essay on abjection, this will help with the understanding of the social outcasting of the working-class during Thatcherism. Analysis from Imogen Tyler, extracted from her book Revolting Subjects: Social Abjection and Resistance in Neoliberal Britian, on social abjection will further develop key themes, thereby aiding the further comprehension of

Murtha and Billingham’s art. Finally, this chapter will analyse the differential success of Murtha and Billingham and raise the question of why that is.

Chapter One: Thatcherism and the British Artworld In May of 1979, Britian’s general election saw a 5.2% swing in favour of the Conservative party from the Labour party, a record since the 1945 election of Clement Attlee; thus, electing Finchley MP and Conservative leader, Margaret Thatcher as Britain’s first female prime minister (Blundell, 2008, p.12-13). This marked the beginning of the Tory’s eighteen-year long rule. ‘Thatcherism’ refers to Margaret Thatcher’s divisive and controversial right-wing social and economic policies, implemented during her time as prime minister. Thatcherism aligned itself with unwavering neoliberalism, prioritizing economic monetarism and individualism, creating a culture of greed and unabating selfishness; Thatcher, herself, famously on the record stating “There is no such thing as society.” (Skidelsky, 1988, p.195).

During Thatcher’s first four years in power (1979-1983), just over 3.7 million jobs were lost in industry and manufacturing alone due to factory and colliery closures, etc. which subsequently resulted in mass unemployment; this was due to the process of rampant deindustrialization (Tomlinson, 2021, p.620-621). Deindustrialization is the diminishing percentage of the industrial employed out of a country’s whole employment population; a process that advocates for the diversion of jobs from ‘blue-collar’ to ‘white-collar’ (Tomlinson, 2021, p.620-621). When Thatcher and her cabinet met in September 1983, they set out a dubious scheme to close 75 coal mines across the UK in the short span of a just few years; in Scotland alone 35% of the labour force would have been left jobless as an outcome of this (Phillips, 2023, p.368). Thatcher’s government accelerated this devious process of deindustrialization with no attempt to replenish the job supply for those made unemployed; inevitably, a proliferating and generally neglected under-class population materialized in parts of Britain. Furthermore, Thatcher implemented other buccaneering ploys to have fewer public provisions off of the treasury book; including, the selling of

council houses to private buyers resulting in less available social housing, mass budget cuts and the privatization of public services, etc. (Walker, 2002, p.254). The objective was to have less reliance on the state and more private funding. However, these conservative policies marginalized the working-class disproportionately; communities left devastated and catastrophized by the long-term consequences of Thatcher’s unforgiving, authoritarian wrath.

Retaliation from those adversely effected by Thatcher’s ravishing deindustrialization came to fruition during the infamous miner strikes, commencing from March 1984 to 1985 all across the UK. Approximately 200,000 miners went on strike with the objective to prevent the further termination of coalfields, job lay-offs and the privatization of the industry but to no avail (Phillips, 2023, p.366). Margaret Thatcher and the trade unions were notoriously embittered towards each other, with trade unions acting in support of something Thatcherism opposed – working-class solidarity. Denis Thatcher, her husband, was also convinced by the notion of eradicating workers’ unions entirely (Jones, 2012, p.34-35), an opinion that is unsurprisingly endemic amongst affluent businessmen such as himself, underlining the extensive individualistic and self-serving politics festering at the core of Thatcherism.

Unemployment statistics during this time were deployed as a scare mongering tactic to defer further strikes and keep those still in a job compliant. In an interview conducted by political author Owen Jones with Thatcher’s then deputy prime minister, Geoffry Howe, agreed that this had a part to play in suppressing the strength of the trade unions. In Howe’s opinion, this was Thatcher’s most significant triumph (Jones, 2012, p.36-37).

The lack of job alternatives and assistance from the government demoralized workingclass communities, obliterating hope and comradery. Poverty often has company in the

many complex forms of social tribulations, which will be further discussed and analysed in chapters two and three via the practices of artists Tish Murtha and Richard Billingham.

Britain’s artworld was not left unscathed by Thatcher’s tyranny; this is well documented in an article by Anthony Beck for Parliamentary Affairs, published in 1989. The British Arts Council was established post-World War 2 and served as an aegis for many creative sectors, including but not exclusive to the fine arts. The council relied solely on subsidizes from parliament and redistributed funding to the Scottish and Welsh Arts Councils also (Beck, 1989, p.362-363). Interference from Thatcher’s monetaristic policies did not come into effect straight away, but by 1983 the British Arts Council financial support fell under the same scrutiny as many other government-funded divisions. In 1982, the council received a 22.9% increase to their annual grant but the following year only received 4.2% (Beck, 1989, p.366). The grants percentage increase per annum fell at a rate lower than inflation; therefore, making it a budget cut (Beck, 1989, p.366). Embodying the reactionary ideologies of the Tory government, Thatcher’s appointed Minster of Arts, Richard Luce, spoke to the Council of Regional Arts Association (CoRRA) after the 1987 re-election and stated the following, “(…) there are still too many in the arts world who have yet to be weaned away from the welfare state mentality – the attitude that the taxpayer owes them a living.” (Beck, 1989, p.368).

Institutions sought more commercial art in order to reinstate some of the money lost via private funding and profits from sold artworks, making this sector more denationalized till it eventually no longer depended on the grants – Thatcher’s eventual end goal. Artists were under duress to be more entrepreneurial and to ensure the commodification of their art (Beck, 1989, p.365).

Ever-changing social and political climates often manifest themselves into the artworld; art critic John A. Walker accounts that the Thatcherite era was no exception. After the rise of feminist, political art and theologies in the 1970s, there was a shift to right-wing principles and therefore more conservative art in the 1980s. Veering artworks to be more conventional, with a growing demand for traditional practices, such as oil paintings, and more orthodox subject matter. Walker defined this as ‘neo-expressionism’. Art dealer, Jay Jopling, verbalized his distaste for ‘issue-based art’ at the time – a completely unsurprising opinion for someone whose father was a Conservative MP (Walker, 2002, p.255-256).

Jopling was not the only one uninterested in progressive art, there was less demand for collaborative/community based works and conceptual art as a whole. British-American artist, Jann Haworth, holds Thatcher accountable for the downfall of artists, during this period, in the following quote, “(…) because of Thatcher (…) [ the 1980’s] was a hideous decade for the artist, the academic and the intellectual.” (Vyner, 1999, p.276).

The commercialization and the hierarchizing of aesthetics above sentiment or meaning resulted in a general lack of incentive for critical thinking in art about societal issues and politics – keeping progressive, left-wing ideologies at bay. However, this was not the case for all artists.

Eddie Chambers established The Blk Art Group insubordination to the Thatcherite government in 1979. With the movement quickly gaining traction, other emerging artists also were recruited, such as Keith Piper, Marlene Smith, Wenda Leslie and Donald Rodney to name a few (Bernier, 2013, p.515). As a young black artist, Chambers experienced the apprehension felt amongst the black British population with the new reactionary right-wing government in power and what that would entail – especially for an already marginalized demographic. Despite The Blk Art Group only lasting five years,

their resilience against the Tory government at the time is still relevant to this day (Mistlin, 2022, para.2).

Art critic and writer, John Berger, also criticized Thatcher’s government at the time by way of support for the miners during trade union strikes. Despite tabloids and media channels spreading misinformation and propaganda about picketers, Berger and fellow writer Nuala O’Faolain made a short documentary film called Germinal airing in 1984 on BBC2. Germinal was filmed in a colliery in Creswell, Derbyshire which had the intention of bringing the industrial working-class to the foreground and bridging an understanding of their day to day life with the public (Berger, 2024, p.9-11). Berger’s firsthand account of the working conditions in collieries as well as observing the desolation of the industrial working-class, resulted in him expressing a radical desire for the assassination of Thatcher in a private conversation with Eva Figes in 1987 (Berger, 2024, p.10).

Despite many progressive artists and critics alike scrutinizing Thatcherism, there is a divide of class within the artworld and an underrepresentation of working-class art. Many upper/middle-class artists would have their own and their family’s self-interests at front and foremost. Ian Breakwell, the late working-class British artist points this out in the following quote, “It would be revealing to know how many artists voted for Margaret Thatcher.” (Reichardt, 1981, p.11). Breakwell highlights the disharmonious atmosphere of Thatcher’s Britian that evidently transpired into the artworld during this distinctive era.

Chapter Two: The Art of Tish Murtha Tish Murtha was a working-class British photographer whose art practice focused on documentary photography. Living in the deprived borough Elswick, West Newcastle, Murtha experienced being working-class during Thatcher’s Britain. Her photography gives a realist depiction of what that entailed for herself and her community. Being one of ten children, Murtha’s photographs often include her siblings as well as members of their community, with their close connections and familiarity observable through the photographs (Murtha, 2017, p.22). When interviewed for the BBC4 documentary Tish, her younger sister Eileen recalls that her and her siblings would often ‘scavenge’ in order to make money or find resources. Eileen claims that Murtha most likely found an old camera in an abandoned house and practiced taking pictures without any film loaded in it, igniting her interest in the art of photography (Tish, 2023). In the 1970s, Murtha went onto study at Newport College of Art, specifying in ‘Documentary Photography’; she was accepted on the spot by her tutor David Hurn (Murtha, 2017, p.6).

Tish Murtha’s photography book Youth Unemployment was published in 2017 after her death by her daughter Ella Murtha, who has exerted herself at maintaining her mother’s legacy. Youth Unemployment features an essay written by Murtha in May 1980, condemning the Thatcher government and the soaring unemployment figures within her area – which was disproportionate when compared to the rest of Newcastle. The opening paragraph details the diminishing of industrial sectors in the recent years, which had been fundamental to the local economy at the time, and how rampant deindustrialization had impacted the lives of many working-class communities (Murtha, 2017, p.24).

Additionally, Murtha’s essay criticizes the Youth Opportunity Programme (Y.O.P) which was a previous government scheme that Thatcher utilized to obfuscated unemployment figures. Members of the scheme were on the dole, but deemed as ‘employed’ in the official

statistics. This populist strategy manipulated the figures, hence, trivializing the severity of the issue to the general public. The Y.O.P exploited the labour of the unemployed youth, paying them minimal wages for arduous work. Murtha reveals that her brother, Carl, worked 40 hours a week as a street sweeper for a mere £20.55 (Murtha, 2017, p.24). In an interview for the documentary Tish, Carl stated that “Thatcher tried to break everybody.”, when recounting his experience of the scheme (Tish, 2023).

Murtha scrutinized Thatcher’s government and policies, seeing first-hand the effects on the Elswick community. Overall, this provoked Murtha to deploy her photography practice as a means to divulge the disparities that the working-class faced and make sure it never goes unrecognized. As detailed in the previous chapter, this austerity was inflicted mainly on working-class communities inordinately and particularly the youth within them. Murtha discusses this in the following quote from the essay.

It must never be forgotten that there are barbaric and reactionary forces in our society, who while having no intrinsic appeal to the youth themselves, will not be slow to make political capital from an embittered youth (…) (Murtha, 2017, p.26).

The realism of Murtha’s photography meant that the camera had a very literal purpose of communicating the livelihood of Elswick’s working-class in an uncontrived way. Her sister Eileen stated that Murtha “Didn’t want to take pretty pictures.” (Tish, 2023).

Murtha’s intentions were to document and provide evidence of the neglection of this community.

Reminiscent

of

anti-aestheticism,

Murtha’s

practice

rejects

the

hierarchization of aesthetic appeal above the underlying messaging of her art. This is paramount within anti-aesthetic ideas, which Hal Foster accounts in The Anti-Aesthetic: Essays on Postmodern Culture. Foster writes, “(…) “anti-aesthetic” also signals a practice,

cross-disciplinary in nature, that is sensitive to cultural forms engaged in a politic (…) to forms that deny a privileged aesthetic realm” (Foster, 1998, p. xv). Despite aesthetics not being of prime concern, Murtha’s photography is still remarkable, captivating and overall emotive throughout Youth Unemployment.

(Fig 2.1) Tish Murtha, Cops Piss Off (1981), photograph (Murtha, 2017, p.167).

For the documentary Tish, Murtha’s daughter Ella recalls that Cops Piss Off (Fig. 2.1) was her mum’s favourite photograph from her career, featuring brother Carl with friends Tony and Paul (Tish, 2023). Deliberately, the image has a vertical composition to include the graffiti ‘cops piss off’, hence the image’s title; with anti-authority messaging contained within. When interviewed, Carl mentioned they were often unfairly stereotyped by the

likes of the local police force, disclosing that “They thought we were hooligans.” (Tish, 2023). This was testament to society’s dehumanization of the working-class and the stigma surrounding these communities, which persists to this day. Murtha’s photography attempts to dismantle this demonization by rehumanizing them as she casts a light on their personalities and interconnections.

Within Murtha’s photography, she explicitly uses black and white film, most likely due to its accessibility versus colour film which was the less financially viable option. However, the monochrome makes for a more atmospheric and melancholic image (Fig. 2.1), bringing to the forefront the bleakness and mundaneness of the surroundings. This, in combination with the concrete floor and brick wall, makes their environment appear brutalist and jarring. By way of contradiction, the three boys have jovial expressions on their faces. A bond and closeness between the trio is evident through their touch by leaning on each other – signifying the reliance they all had on one another. Connection and resilience are predominant in the subject matter of Murtha’s photography, which is paramount for working-class communities who have virtually nothing but their camaraderie. Despite not being in the photographs herself, Murtha’s connections with people transpires through her art as the subjects were comfortable and familiar with her presence. Consequently, Murtha’s photography is candid and sincere in nature.

Murtha exhibits a relationship of trust, familiarity and intimacy between herself and her subjects. Being a member of the community, Murtha has a vantage point that would be improbable for an outsider photographer to gain. Her brother Mark Murtha said when interviewed, “(…) people with cameras round here are normally people from the DSS or the local police force (…)” (Tish, 2023). Murtha’s affinity with her community was pivotal to her documentary photography. This practice was not unscrupulous or voyeuristic in

nature; however, had Murtha came from a more prosperous background, her photographs may have been interpreted this way.

Murtha’s practice would be unlikely to fall under the same scrutiny as a photographer such as Diane Arbus, who famously came from a privileged background. In the renowned book On Photography, Susan Sontag brings into question Arbus’s disassociation with the subjects in which she photographed. Sontag quotes Arbus herself, “One of the things I felt I never suffered from as a kid was that I never felt adversity.” (Sontag, 2005, p.34). Highlighting the insulation of Arbus’s upbringing, her art attempts to subverts her callowness. Sontag brings into question Arbus’s ethics of her chosen subject matter in the following quote, Arbus was not interested in ethical journalism. She chose subjects that she believed were found, just lying around, without any values attached to them. (…) For Arbus the camera photographs the unknown. But unknown to whom? Unknown to someone in moralistic and in prudent responses (Sontag, 2005, p.34).

Indeed, Murtha and Arbus’s approach to photography polarize each other in this way. For Murtha, her art is transactional between her and her subjects in which there is a connection, commonality and relatability through their lived experiences. This is in contrast to Arbus, who photographs ‘freaks’ and ‘mad people’ in morbid fascination; arguably, profiting from vulnerable groups of people in which she could never identify with (Sontag, 2005, p.35).

(Fig. 2.2) Tish Murtha, Careers Centre – Face in Gate (1981), photograph (Murtha, 2017, p.71).

Captured outside Newcastle’s Careers Centre, Murtha’s photograph (Fig. 2.2) features a group of young women waiting outside; this is one of a series of images taken in and around the centre. Eye-catchingly, the lady at the forefront looks over her shoulder with her face visible between the bars, the pose is reminiscent of that found in Johannes Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring. However, Murtha’s image subverts Vermeer’s painting which represents wealth through the pearl earring itself and the use of ultramarine blue and indigo which, at that time, was the most expensive pigment (van Loon, 2020, p.1) Murtha’s practice contrasts with Vermeer’s, through her anti-aesthetics and utilizing whatever film and camera she had access to.

Idleness and stoicism are prominent, the crowd linger and are representative of the proliferating unemployment figures, no job opportunities and therefore a dearth of optimism. This stagnation also depicts the despondency of the passage of time as they are made to wait outside, ambiguous to the viewer of how long that could entail for them.

Despotic, cast iron bars make the women look incarcerated, signifying the unjust denigration towards this working-class population by Thatcherism and wider society. In the middle of the composition, the lady standing up has her head cut off by the sign for the career’s centre, creating a sense of Surrealism that is redolent of Rene Magritte’s Surrealist painting The Son of Man in which the subject’s face is covered by a green apple. As the sign conceals the lady’s identity, this obscuration is an indication of the discriminatory labelling and categorisation of this demographic, deriving from the social stigma of being on the dole. Ultimately, the image portrays a society in crisis and a need for drastic political reconstruction.

Chapter Three: The Art of Richard Billingham Working-class life under Thatcherism was debilitating. British photographer, Richard Billingham, is someone that could attest to this; living in a tower block just outside Birmingham throughout the 80s and 90s. Billingham’s work encompassed the years of Thatcherism under John Major in the 1990s.

Billingham’s father, Ray, was made redundant in 1980 and this consequently led to them losing their house (Adams, 2016, para.41), suffering from the effects of Thatcher’s deindustrialization, mass unemployment and poverty. Whilst confined within the small council flat with his mother (Liz), younger brother (Jason), his father and their many pets, he began his photography practice by casually documenting life at home. The photos were initially intended to be used as reference images for paintings whilst studying Fine Art at Sunderland University (Adams, 2016, para.9). Julian Germain, Billingham’s university tutor at the time, was enthralled by the photographs and pushed for a continuation of his photography practice. In 1996, Germain helped Billingham edit and publish his famous photobook Ray’s a Laugh. This proved to be a turning point, not only in Billingham’s artistic career but his overall quality of life (Cashell, 2020, p.43).

Billingham’s critically acclaimed photobook Ray’s a Laugh captivated and divided both the artworld and the public alike, credited for conceptualizing ‘squalid realism’ (Adams, 2016, para.1). Juxtaposing traditional family photos, Billingham’s photos made no effort to conceal what would typically be perceived as taboo or ‘too’ personal, including family conflicts, dynamics, the domesticated space or their poor socioeconomic status. A complex and intimate narrative of the Billingham’s manifests itself through the 99 page book. These contextual and documentary style photographs allow for viewers draw their

own conclusions about the members and serves an illusion of acquaintanceship with the family, a sort of unconventional autobiography.

Despite never featuring in the images himself, there are hints about what kind of relationship Billingham has with his family members. None of them really notice or acknowledge his presence. Indeed, it is as if Billingham is a fly on the wall instead of their son; nor do they seem to mind being photographed, with such candidness adding to the holisticness and the documentary feel to his work. Even in the title Ray’s a Laugh, a detachment from Billingham and his father materializes.

Billingham’s voyeuristic modus operandi evokes a feeling of intrusiveness as an observer of his photography; however, this was ultimately an essential component in capturing a brutally honest depiction of his turbulent and chaotic homelife. Using expired film rolls and more affordable, amateur cameras was not only the most cost effective option. This paired with Billingham’s technical inaccuracies, however, was the perfect catalyst for encapsulating the anti-aesthetics and overall stamina of the pictorial series (Cashell, 2020, p.46).

Overarchingly, the subject matter of Ray’s a Laugh is immensely emotive and depicts a desperation for political change through the years of Tory austerity, despite this not being Billingham’s intention. Writer Jane Furness interprets his photography this way too in the following quote, “[Billingham] revealed their lives as a product of crumbling social provision of recent decades (…) his work contains an implicit social critique, (…) workingclass artists have re-emerged to explore otherwise unregarded proletarian subject matter.”

(Dewey, 2002, p. 17).

Fig. 3.1) Richard Billingham, Untitled (1994), photograph (Billingham, 1996, p.57-58).

One of the most harrowing yet profound photographs within Ray’s a Laugh is of Ray himself inebriated on the bathroom floor, sandwiched between the door and toilet (Fig. 3.1). The image’s composition confronts us with the sinister side effects of Ray’s alcoholism and sparks questions of what emotional toll this would have on the ‘children’ of the family, Jason and Billingham himself. However, Billingham’s desensitization to these sorts of moments is communicated through the casualness of his image taking, a consequence of the overexposure of his father’s destructive habits from a young age. All throughout the book, Ray’s chronic alcoholism is made increasingly more apparent with him continually shown to be drinking or in the vicinity of alcohol if he was not already completely intoxicated (as pictured). Although addiction and poverty are not mutually

exclusive, they often do coexist; it is probable that Ray’s dependency on alcohol is a product of their hopeless situation.

The squalid realism is encapsulated by the bathroom surrounding Ray, especially with the vulgar, broken toilet. In author Keiran Cashell’s analysis of the photograph (Fig. 3.1), he draws parallels with the image and the notorious, scatological ‘toilet scene’ in Danny Boyle’s 1996 movie adaptation of Irvine Welsh’s Trainspotting. The main character, Renton, drops his heroin down ‘the worst toilet in Scotland’ whilst in the midst of a comedown (Cashell, 2020, p.64). Cashell writes, “(…) the toilet has become iconic of the British neorealist aesthetic” (Cashell, 2020, p.64).

Similarities also appear within the subject matter and themes of both Ray’s a Laugh and Trainspotting. Respectively, both forms of media showcase the adversities and social issues the working-class faced during the same era of Thatcherism in the Northern regions of the UK; including addiction, poverty and overall hopelessness felt by the working-class communities across the country.

(Fig. 3.2) Richard Billingham, Untitled (1995), photograph (Billingham, 1996, p.38)

Another iconic image from the series is of Liz and her jigsaw (Fig. 3.2). The inundation of various patterns and contrasting colours dominate the photograph. From the tattooed arms, eccentric floral dress to the incomplete jigsaw, all contrasting with the monotone browns of the velvet sofa, the cup of tea and wooden coffee table which appears through the gaps in the puzzle, creating a sense of surrealism. Visually, the patterns are very overwhelming and this does somewhat signify the feeling of claustrophobia felt within the cluttered flat. Liz’s floral dress is paradoxical to her and her family’s ongoing circumstances. Typically, flowers signify beauty, love, femininity, etc., which contradicts with their environment. Compositionally, Liz appears as an all-knowing observer from above looking down, giving a sense of hierarchy, which is representative of the power she

possessed within the household. Viewers becomes familiar with Liz’s violent tendencies – mainly towards Ray – as the book progresses.

The image presents another prevalent theme in Ray’s a Laugh – the persistent boredom and the family’s attempt to pass the time, represented by Liz’s jigsaw. Subconsciously (Liz and Ray especially), consumption is deployed as a vice to get their short-term ‘fix’ and distraction from their perpetual boredom via their chain smoking and overindulgence with alcohol or food, etc. with many of the items in photographs present a narrative of their behaviours. Psychologist Peter Toohey points out this compulsion for mental stimulation as a distraction from being ‘chronically bored’ in his book Boredom: A Lively History.

Toohey writes, “(…) the chronically bored seem more liable to self-medicate through sensation-seeking behaviour.” (Toohey, 2011, p.53).

These unhealthy habits are a result of their circumstances – being a part of the burgeoning unemployed demographic during the Thatcherite deindustrialization era. With no job opportunities or work to go to and living in a constant state of ‘groundhog day’, it is easy to imagine losing a sense of purpose in this particular set of circumstances.

(Fig. 3.3) Richard Billingham, Untitled (1994), photograph (Billingham, 1996, p.45-46).

To preface, before discussing and analysing the following image (Fig. 3.3), dreadful acts such as domestic violence, and the abuse of power within families and relationships, is an issue that both men and women from any social class face. This discourse will be treated with the sensitivity and consideration it deserves, with its sole intention of providing context for the hostility found within the Billingham family unit.

Liz and Ray’s relationship was problematic; with Liz’s violent outbursts towards Ray documented throughout numerous points in the book (Fig. 3.3). Many factors contributed to the ever-building tension between the pair. A prominent point of contention being Ray’s alcoholism as well as the family’s financial strains and incessant boredom. Science journalist Anna Gosline writes about the relationship of boredom and violence in her article Bored? for American Scientific; writing, “People who are often bored are at greater risk of developing (…) drug or alcohol addiction; displaying anger, aggressive behavior.”

(Gosline, 2007, para.11).

Liz is the aggressor in this altercation (Fig. 3.3), holding her clenched fist, oppressive and intimidating demeanour whilst leaning in towards Ray, making him appear feeble and emasculated. As he submissively sits in his chair avoiding her eye contact, an insight is provided into their matriarchal dynamic, with Liz seeming to hold power over Ray – both physically and mentally. Making generalizations, men stereotypically possess this authority over women within their relationships. However, in this instance, Liz and Ray subvert this stereotype.

Following this up in the book, the photograph on the page after is of a squabble between the family’s pet dog and one of their many cats (Billingham, 1996, p.47-48). Billingham’s implication of Liz’s animalistic aggression and that they are, quite literally, no better than cat and dog. Perhaps, this was a deliberate choice to ease the tension for spectators with an attempt at dark-humour; a mechanism used to make the book and its subject matter more digestible.

Again, Billingham’s desensitization to his family’s abnormal behaviours is shown through his voyeuristic photography during these moments, which to most people would be seen as an inappropriate time to take pictures. His family’s normalization of this is portrayed too, as they do not seem to care that he is documenting their hostile altercations. However distressing the images may be to observe or how controversial it seems that he chose to photograph it, this was Billingham’s reality that he endured and witnessed. His methods of dealing with and documenting this was his prerogative.

Chapter four: Cross-Examination of Murtha and Billingham Anti-aesthetics are predominant within both Murtha and Billingham’s art practice.

Explored through Hal Foster’s writing in chapter two, this applies to both their work. As aesthetics are of lowest priority, a message transpires through their art, via candidness.

Anti-aestheticism is precedent for documentary style photography, and was thus chosen by both for recording their livelihoods whilst living through Tory austerity. Both Murtha and Billingham have a true understanding of what that entailed as they endured the working-class Thatcherite experience in their younger years.

Mutha’s photography documents the effects of Thatcherism on a community basis; her images often feature multiple people at a time – inclusive of her family and friends.

Interdependency and companionship are key within Youth Unemployment as a reliance on each other is imperative for the community’s functionality. On the contrary, Billingham’s art practice is more seclusive and claustrophobic, only ever photographing inside his family’s flat and his parents or brother; demonstrating the damaging effects of Thatcherism on individual families. Polarizing with Murtha’s photography, Billingham’s subject matter does not demonstrate a reliance on each other but rather conflicting and strained family dynamics. Isolation from the outside world is further emphasised through Billingham’s methodological use of the camera flash throughout his practice. As the curtains are usually drawn and therefore no natural light seeps in, nor are any of the photos taken outside of the flat within Ray’s a Laugh, this reclusiveness manifests itself. This directly contrasts with Murtha’s photography where the flash is obsolete, as the images in Youth Unemployment are often taken outside or in daylight, demonstrating the pivotal social aspect of Murtha’s practice.

(Fig. 4.1) Tish Murtha, Cardsharps (1981), photograph (Murtha, 2017, p.51).

Murtha’s Cardsharps (Fig. 4.1) is glaringly similar to Billingham’s image (Fig. 3.2) of his mother Liz. Just as the trio play cards in Murtha’s photograph, Liz is completing her jigsaw in Billingham’s, as the subjects in both images ponder their next move. Both artist’s images denote the passage of time, with the contrast in age between Liz and the trio, depicting the stages of life. Billingham’s use of colour contrasts with Murtha’s consistent use of black and white film, not only emphasising that the image of Liz is more modern, but makes Murtha’s photograph appear more melancholic in comparison.

Similarly, across both images there is an inclusion of eccentric floral patterns, as seen on the wallpaper in Cardsharps and Liz’s dress in Billingham’s image. Despite the images being taken fourteen years apart, these patterns are perhaps symbolic of the stagnation many endured during this era.

Social abjection and the notion of being outcast from society is predominant for the further understanding of the context of both Murtha and Billingham’s art. Abjection was

conceptualised by French philosopher, Georges Bataille, in his 1934 essay Abjection and Miserable Forms. Composed during the Weimar period and the upsurge of fascism, Bataille believed that social pariahs (i.e. marginalised groups) were fundamentally used by oppressive forces to possess and therefore uphold their authority, written in the context of the Nazis (Tyler, 2013, p.19). This is explored in the following quote from Bataille’s essay. (…) the imperative act excluding abject objects is perpetrated by all men but its power and rigor vary according to the social conditions in relation to the tension which is required. (…) Because of the constraint, the life of most men is situated beneath the human level of imperative attitude (…) they [the insolent rich] have taken away from these disinherited the possibility of being human (Bataille, 1993, p.11).

Thatcher’s laissez faire government very much resulted in the neglection of Britain’s under-class; resulting in societal ‘outcasts’. As the marginalisation of this demographic was utilised for Thatcher’s political capital, the long-lasting effects of this are exhibited throughout the content of both Murtha and Billingham’s photography. Awareness of this ostracization comes to fruition in Murtha’s essay Youth Unemployment; she recounts her brother Carl’s time as a street sweeper, through the Y.O.P, in a more affluent area of Newcastle. Carl states that the local cafes refused them their services, residents would act as informants if they were ever caught not doing their job and passersby would not even acknowledge their request for the time (Murtha, 2017, p.24). Classism meant that there was not only a level of superiority exercised by the upper-class, but also social disgust and distain felt towards Carl and his peers. Imogen Tyler dissects the ‘politics of disgust’, within the context of social abjection, in her book Revolting Subjects: Social Abjection and Resistance in Neoliberal Britian. Tyler writes, “When we approach disgust as symptomatic

of wider societal relations of power, we can begin to ascertain why disgust might be attributed to particular bodies. Disgust is political.” (Tyler, 2013, p.24).

Social abjection is evident throughout Murtha’s photography. In Cops Piss Off (Fig. 2.1), the graffiti is representative of the pigeonholing that the community felt by the local police, who perpetually vilified and othered them. As well as the queue outside the career’s centre (Fig. 2.2) who are behind cast-iron bars, segregating and confining them from public who pass by, akin to being treated as criminals.

For the Billingham’s, the family’s social abjection may not have been as obvious due to the continual isolation from the outside world. However, once Billingham had his breakthrough in the artworld, this out-casting became apparent. Outi Remes writes in an article for Afterimage about art critic’s reviews of Rays a Laugh. Remes details Gitte Ørskou’s analysis in which Ørskou describes Billingham’s images as ‘uncanny’ and others Billingham’s family from her own (Remes, 2007, para.4). Remes responds to this in the following quote, “Without exception, art critics like to discuss "their" rather than "our" poverty. Billingham certainly does not represent an ordinary family album, but does this make his work uncanny?” (Remes, 2007, para.4). A dissociation from the artworld and Billingham manifests itself, as he is perceived as the other and outcasted due to his class.

The word choice of ‘uncanny’ further perpetrates the family’s social abjection by making the Billingham’s seem other-worldly or an object of marvel.

Murtha and Billingham’s success in regards to their art careers differed massively from one another. For Billingham, he obtained a visiting professorship for Glouster and Middlesex Universities, his practice now mainly specifying in landscape photography.

Billingham was also nominated for a BAFTA for his short film Ray & Liz, which is based on the photographs in Rays a Laugh (Adams, 2019, para.35). Additionally, he has

published more photography books since his initial one in 1996; thus, establishing Billingham’s status in the artworld.

However, for Murtha, Ella reveals in the documentary Tish, that her mother tragically passed away living in poverty and spent her last few weeks alive applying for jobs, such as a shop assistant in the local LIDL (Tish, 2023). Despite Murtha’s photography being so remarkable, she was unable to breakthrough barriers – which begs the question why? In a survey conducted by the British Journal of Photography in 2024, their findings concluded that women photographers were earning 30% less in comparison with male photographers and that 66% of major photography awards have been awarded to men over the last 5 years (British Journal of Photography, 2024, para.1). Does this mean women are less likely to receive recognition in the photography realm? Furthermore, would being a workingclass woman obstruct making a career in a typically middle-class male domain?

Conclusion In conclusion, this dissertation has found that Thatcherism had detrimental effects on the British working-class, which is documented by artists Tish Murtha and Richard Billingham. The subject matter of both Murtha and Billingham’s photography practices demonstrates the neglection of the working-class and a desperation for political change.

Chapter one disclosed the deterioration of Britain’s working-class population caused by Thatcher’s rampant deindustrialisation, mass job losses and less government funding, etc.

This provided context for the analysis of working-class artists Murtha and Billingham’s practice and an understanding of what life entailed for them and their communities.

Britain’s artworld was not left untarnished by the Thatcherite government either, by way of cuts to grants to the British Arts Council. Art often reflects the climate of the world around; there was an influx in demand for more conservative art and less for progressive, conceptual art – defined as neo-expressionism by John A. Walker. Thus, art during this era lacked a depth of critical thinking. Thatcherism created a divisive and tumultuous culture found throughout Britian and, therefore, manifested itself into the artworld.

Chapter two investigated working-class photographer Tish Murtha, her practice documenting the earlier stages of Thatcherism. Books and journal articles on Murtha were scarce, with her own book Youth Unemployment no longer in print. These obstacles meant that researching and analysing Murtha’s art was crucial, as they provide a remarkable perspective for the dissertation of paramount importance. Murtha’s name deserves more recognition within the artworld, with her photography throughout Youth Unemployment providing comprehensive depictions of life of the working-class during the Thatcherite era.

Susan Sontag’s critique of Diane Arbus was included to draw a comparison of Arbus and Murtha’s backgrounds; demonstrating that Murtha’s art could not be interpretated the way

Sontag does Arbus’s. Fundamentally, Murtha belonging to this community meant there was a commonality with those that she photographed. Documentary photography was deployed by Murtha to provide evidence of the neglection of her surroundings but it also displayed the comradery and interconnections that were imperative for their resilience.

Anti-aesthetics were at the forefront of Murtha’s practice, explored through Hal Foster’s writing, and this produces the vital qualities of spontaneity and integrity in her art.

Murtha’s photography dismantles the unjust stereotyping and vilification the workingclass faced by broader society.

Chapter three investigated and analysed the art of Richard Billingham and his photobook Ray’s a Laugh. The Billingham family were directly affected by Thatcher’s deindustrialisation as Ray, Billingham’s father, lost his job in manufacturing when the local factory closed, making them apart of the burgeoning under-class population. Ray’s a Laugh documents the family’s dissent as a product of this, with the subject matter exhibiting complex social tribulations such as addiction, poverty, violence, etc.

Billingham’s practice provides a voyeuristic and personal insight to the effects of Thatcherism, exhibiting the family’s seclusion from the outside world. His idiosyncratic style of photography presents a distinct perspective that makes for compelling analysis for this dissertation. Ultimately, this facilitates an understanding of exigent need for political and social progression; as well as the extreme impact Thatcherism had on individual families, such as the Billingham’s themselves.

Chapter four cross-examined Murtha and Billingham’s practices, acknowledging their similarities in anti-aesthetics, documentary photography and subject matter. Both artist’s had first-hand accounts of the realities of being working-class during the Thatcherite era.

With reference to Georges Bataille and Imogen Tyler’s writings on social abjection, the out-casting of the working-class in Thatcher’s Britian is shown in the artwork of Murtha

and critic’s commentary of Billingham’s work. Murtha and Billingham counterbalanced one another in some aspects too, which made for more interesting analysis and brings forth different perspectives on the subject matter of this dissertation. With Murtha’s photography documenting the effects of Thatcherism on a community basis and Billingham’s reclusive photography of solely his family couped up inside their flat.

However, both artist’s differing success from one another prompts the conversation about the hindrances of being working-class in the artworld; furthermore, being a working-class woman in the artworld. The vital discussion of the underrepresentation of working-class creatives in art is still supressed to this day. This dissertation on the photography of Murtha and Billingham is set out to keep the discourse alive; especially since their practice encompassed one of the most gruelling and significant eras for the working-class in Britain – this makes their art all the more impactful.

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