Untameable Book

Foreword by Dr David Forrest Texts by the artists and Mark Hodkinson

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For Tracey, Sarah and our families.

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The exhibition and this accompanying publication visually explore and reinterpret these landscapes and key themes from his work. Hines was the quintessential working-class writer from Barnsley.

He was a man who wrote from the margins, and

The project title highlights Hines’s dogged determination over three decades to write about the changing personal and political landscapes of working-class life in South Yorkshire.

Untameable is a collection of work by artists Patrick Murphy and Anton Want, inspired by Barry Hines’s writing and the contents of his Archive held at The University of Sheffield.

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Including reworkings of rare documents and material from the archive this collection also builds on Hines’s interests in examining contemporary South Yorkshire landscapes and communities as they continue to change and evolve to survive in an increasingly politicised 21st century.

unflinchingly chronicled the social injustices he witnessed: from the failure of the education system and lack of opportunity found in A Kestrel for a Knave and the examination of land ownership and alienated labour in The Gamekeeper, to the devastating effect that Thatcherism had on Sheffield in Looks and Smiles and the increasingly toxic climate of nuclear threat during the 1980s in Threads.

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Foreword Dr David Forrest School of English at the University of Sheffield

Like many people, I first encountered Barry Hines’s writing at school. Hemsworth High was only 13 miles away from Hoyland Common, and the landscapes that inspired Kes and a Kestrel for a Knave all felt achingly authentic to me and my classmates.

We too knew a Billy Casper or two, a Jud, a Mr Sugden. The power of seeing a familiar and recognisable world depicted with such poetry, humour, and brutality convinced us that books, films, and plays were for us.

This is Barry Hines’s great legacy. He was the quintessential working-class writer. He was a man who wrote from the margins, and who gave those who read him permission to speak and create in their own voices. It’s a legacy that begs questions about the state of the arts in Britain today. Nowadays, would a major publisher take a chance on a 25-year-old from Barnsley writing a novel about a teenage footballer? Would the BBC be knocking on the door of a provincial teacher asking him to write them a film? Would the son of a miner manage to forge a thirty-year career writing about ordinary people from South Yorkshire?

Sadly, I think we know the answers.

So, we need to re-watch, re-read, and rediscover Hines not only for the pleasures and challenges that his many works bring, but for the lessons they teach us about the place of class in the past, in the present and in the future of our national culture. We must remember that access, representation, and, above all, stories matter.

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Over the last five years I’ve been lucky enough to have explored Hines’s great body of work in depth. Along with my colleague in the School of English at The University of Sheffield, Professor Sue Vice, we’ve had the privilege of working with the Barry Hines archive, which was generously donated to the Special Collections at the university library. Like all archives, it tells a story, many stories in fact.

We learned about Hines’s early experiments in creative writing while he was studying to be PE teacher, how he used his burgeoning art to better understand the relationship between football and the mind. We were captivated by his first work for the BBC, the 1965 radio play, Billy’s Last Stand, a Pinteresque duologue that is packed with political conviction and that shatters the myth that Hines was merely a realist, documenting the world around him. We delved into the genesis of his most accomplished novel, the quietly devastating examination of alienated labour and land ownership, The Gamekeeper, and analysed its journey from page to screen in the shape of Ken Loach’s film of the same name. We saw how Looks and Smiles and Threads worked together to examine the devastating effect of Thatcherism on Sheffield, and how Hines struggled to be heard when he tried to tell stories about the most seismic political event of his life: the miners’ strike of 1984-5. Above all, we realised that Hines’s role as a chronicler and a poet of the working-class in England had been at best underplayed and at worst cruelly ignored during his lifetime.

We haven’t done this alone. One of the joys of our project has been the way that our research has been shaped and re-imagined by fellow readers and viewers. So, we’ve written a book and published academic writing about Hines but we’ve taught him, too, opening up the archive to students and bringing his stories to new audiences. We’ve heard fresh perspectives on the universal themes of his writing, witnessed debates on its contemporary relevance – and, the students tell me, Hines’s writing has stayed with them long after graduation. We’ve worked with schoolchildren and teachers, who have reminded us that A Kestrel for a Knave still has the power to force reflection on the politics of education. We have read Hines’s great works with community groups in Barnsley, and shared his films with packed audiences in Sheffield’s Showroom cinema.

The collaboration with Patrick Murphy and Anton Want is another of these encounters: an exchange of ideas about and interpretations of Hines’s writing. The artworks contained within this book and exhibition re-animate the archive, breathing life, colour and movement into pictures and words that might have once evoked mournful nostalgia. Now they burst with the energy of the here and now, reminding us that Hines is not just a writer from a bygone age. To view them is to witness an inheritance: two artists shaped by the same landscapes as Hines, formed by the same communities, show us that he continues to provoke, to educate, and to inspire.

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Mark Hodkinson Writer & Publisher

Paeans to the power and merit of books are plentiful.

A quick search of the internet has just turned up one site alone that proffers 4,433 ‘quotes about books’.

Many of them are ornate, others to the point – books will change your life.

I don’t think books do change lives, not properlylived, culturally-robust adult lives: surely it’s too late for that now. A writer pal of mine once said, after a few pints of beer, that a novel should aspire to ‘tilt the consensual universe’. I smiled, discomfited by the over-statement, not sure if it was a joke or not.

It was different when we were kids, of course. Back then, at the very least (and the very most), books shaped our lives.

I believe my becoming a writer and publisher and collector and reviewer of books was down principally to two particular novels I discovered as a child.

The first, The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, was my dreamy, teen-cynical inner world poured into clever, cool, arch words and dialogue. When I picked it up by chance in a store, knowing nothing of its antecedence, I was literally breathless as I read.

I was unsure whether I had enough money to buy it.

I decided there and then: if I have to, I will steal this book.

The other novel taught me the validity of the world around me – my family, my neighbourhood, my hometown, the northern English working-class. The same as many others, I was introduced to A Kestrel for a Knave, at school. I’ve often wondered who petitioned for this book to form a topic of study through the 1960s and 1970s. They deserve a medal, possibly two. So many times since, I have met people (predominantly northern English working-class people) and they tell me it is the only book they have read or, alternatively, it inspired them to become avid readers.

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Billy Casper, the protagonist of A Kestrel for a Knave, became an emblem of a ragged generation.

Everyone knew a Casper – half-boy, half-pigeon, disowned by his family and school, left to shuffle through life in a 10-bob anorak and half-mast trousers. Viewed from a modern perspective and a much-improved standard of living, Casper can appear a one-off, an exaggerated literary creation, but he was real and he was everywhere. In my school class alone we had about six Caspers, lads from ‘broken’ homes dressed in hand-me-downs, who, if you went to their house at dinner time, you’d find their mum’s boyfriend asleep half-drunk on the settee. The only ‘food’ in the kitchen would be a slice of mouldy bread and a jar of custard powder.

Unfortunately, my old pals didn’t have the qualities that made Casper such an icon of the workingclass. Casper is defiant, a defender of his corner and his rights, and he isn’t afraid of solitude, defining himself through his independence. Most importantly, he is passionate. His imagination is fired by Kes, his kestrel, and he is single-minded enough to make this an obsession, regardless of the difficulties in doing so.

Barry, in life and in his writing, disliked anything flowery or untruthful and baulked at sentimentality.

Many have questioned, for example, whether provincial Britain back then was as bleak as he portrayed. I was there. It was. The industries that had forged communities were dying – coal, iron, steel and textile – and this decay had seeped into people, left them without hope. Worse, a kind of ‘rightful place’ had been set among the poorest, so you were taught not to aspire and merely accept your lot.

Dare to dream and you were scolded: ‘Who do think you are, kiddo?’ This lack of self-worth has dogged my generation of working-class kids. At least we had Billy (and Barry) on our side, telling them (the school, the job centre, prissy librarians, authority etc) where to go.

I first met Barry in 1997 when I was sent to interview him by The Times. He asked me to meet him at his writing den, a small office on the campus of Sheffield Hallam University. I was struck by the starkness of the room: a postcard on the wall, a desk containing a pen and a few sheets of paper. And that was about it – no books, computer or telephone. On the floor was a tiny kettle, able to contain just enough water to fill a single mug.

During our conversation he often repeated the word ‘wondrous’. He sang it. much like a kid would, having just learned it. A lot of things were wondrous: being able to work as a writer and not down the pit; the current form of Barnsley FC; the view from his window; American crime novels.

I set up an independent publishing company, Pomona, in 2003 and Barry was one of the first writers I approached. I asked if I could republish two of his less well-known books. Writers can be very fussy and precious about their work and I imagined I might encounter a more anxious and vain Barry Hines. He remained the same Barry I had met in that tiny room. He was flattered by my interest, trusting me with the covers and contract, happy to help. We sold just a few hundred or so copies but he didn’t seem to mind.

Barry was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2007. He and his wife, Eleanor, had moved from Sheffield back to Hoyland Common. “It’s like I have never been away,’’ he said at the time. ‘‘When I went into the local working men’s club, after nearly forty years, the blokes just said ‘Ayup Barry’ and went back to their cards. That quiet acceptance makes me feel at home.” Barry Hines is always at home, with all of us.

That Summer Feeling, Mark Hodkinson’s new novel is published by Pomona in November 2018. www.pomonauk.com

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Untameable Patrick Murphy

I think I was about four years old, and my dad was digging over the back garden when we moved to a new house, the address was Priory Road (p58), Lundwood. This is my earliest memory.

For those who knew Barnsley in the 1970s and 80s, they will be aware that this Lundwood had a reputation for being ‘challenging’ along with the Athersley North and Kendray estates. These estates were all built in the 1930s to house a growing population from the town centre. My father was part of one of the families moved; in his case from Albert Street in Barnsley Town Centre to Kendray. He then spent 20 years serving in both the British Army (II Para) and US Army (1st Infantry) and also lived in New York for five years.

Like a migrating bird, he then decided to come back to his hometown, met my mother, had me and eventually given a home in Lundwood, and so started my memories. I’ve always found his arc of travel and experiences fascinating, in fact my dad still lives in Lundwood, but a distance from Priory Road, in an area called Burton Grange (the ‘posher’ side of the estate). This is where I grew up. It’s an interesting area, with some of the houses being built next to Monk Bretton Priory. A two minute walk from our back garden gate led you into the middle of the substantial remains of a Cluniac monastery founded in the 12th century. This dichotomy of space fascinated me as a child; both places simultaneously linked and yet separate. Beyond the Abbey was open countryside with the river dearne and lovely walks to nearby Ardsley.

My dad was, and is, a voracious reader and writer of letters. I remember him reading the ‘Female Eunuch’ by Germaine Greer (I’d have been about 10) and taking delivery of a large cardboard box full of books, with a letter from Germaine, replying to my dad’s letter asking for recommendations of books to read after being impressed by her work.

She had generously bought these from a secondhand bookshop and posted them out.

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These memories highlight a forgotten narrative, brought back into focus by rewatching the film Kes. The establishing shots of the film featuring Billy’s home with him waking, getting dressed and running down the street were all filmed on Priory Road, Lundwood. It made me think about the decision to visually place Billy here and what that communicated to an audience in 1969? During this project I’ve been thinking about place and how it changes over time; Lundwood means Holy Wood and was named by the Monks when they settled there in the 12th Century. This meaning has been transposed over the last 80+ years to be more associated with incoherent social housing plans that helped stigmatise residents by literally putting them into boxes.

It made me think about the opportunities or lack of them that can make the difference in one’s life.

My passion at junior school was drawing and painting, usually at the expense of all other subjects.

Having this skill afforded admiration from pupils and some teachers. I remember once being asked to go outside and draw the school from the playing field, provided with a board, paper and pencils and dispatched to the playing field looking down on the school whilst all the other pupils where in the classroom doing English or Maths. I remember thinking this was something to escape into and develop; in a way this was my ‘Kes’.

Hines’s work is important; it simultaneously evokes the harshness of working class life but also poetically describes the hidden beauty of place, landscapes and people. He speaks of the resilience and humour found in communities that are coping from harsh decisions eroding industry, employment, education, ways of life and ultimately their dreams.

The opportunity to reconnect with his work and have access to Hines’s personal archives held within the Special Collections at The University of Sheffield has been a valuable one. The resulting work visually bridges my own memories and Hines’s writing.

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Untameable Anton Want

The characters and landscapes described within the work of Barry Hines feel as familiar to me as my childhood home.

North of Sheffield, South of Barnsley, much like Hines. A place imbued, and at times blessed, with grit and humility. For Hines that meant coal and the close community that industry brought, for me it was countryside, farming and private estate land ownership. For both of us it was village life on the edgelands of a town and a city. Belonging to both, and neither.

We are all the result of our surroundings, to some that can be limiting, to others it offers them a passion, a voice. Hines seemed to instinctively understand his and filter it through his work.

His social intelligence in understanding and describing people’s lives and the systemic structures they live within, his ear for dialogue and the undercurrents at play in our daily interactions, and his ability to tackle even the harshest of subjects with honesty and no little humour give his work a universality that strives to be heard. His was a voice of conviction.

The subjects and inspirations for Hines’s writing are still very relevant today, and have important themes that touch all our lives and should be remembered, long after the shadows lengthen on the times and people he wrote of.

This collection of artworks is an interpretation of Hines, his writing and the subjects that informed his work. It is about people, place and time and the power of words. The collection combines numerous elements, including re-workings of Hines’s original research materials, manuscript drafts and personal copies of his publications. It also draws from the extensive, skillful and thought-provoking research published by Dr David Forrest and Professor Sue Vice at The University of Sheffield.

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The artworks also include a set of unseen landscapes from the last deep coal mine in the UK, Kellingley Colliery in North Yorkshire, made during my time photographing and interviewing the workforce in 2011/12, previous to its closure on December 18th 2015. At the time there were discussions between UK Coal and government in an attempt to secure the future of the colliery, production was near record levels. In the end the political will to act simply wasn’t there and the colliery shutdown.

The British coal industry informed Hines’s life and writing throughout, and was a domestic industry he saw thrive, struggle and disappear within his own lifetime. It felt right to show this work for the first time in a collection about Barry Hines.

Hines’s personal archives held within the Special Collections at The University of Sheffield offer a valuable insight into the writer, his working process and his ideals. Whilst carefully looking through Hines’s well-thumbed, browning copy of A Kestrel for a Knave, now re-named KES, the cover featuring a famous, fictional two fingered salute, it became obvious this was the copy that Hines used when speaking at schools. Various passages were highlighted and bookmarked, with handwritten notes, phrases and scribbles denoting his thoughts and ideas. One stood out, despite its fading ink...

‘Make anything happen in books’

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A treatise on education, nature, class, hope in the North of England that feels as relevant today as it did 50 years ago.

1967. Firebrand TV producer Tony Garnett is impressed by the work of a young novelist called Barry Hines and offers him the opportunity to write a TV play. Hines does something that writers don’t normally do to Garnett: he turns him down, telling him: ‘I’ve got this book about a boy and a bird, and I’ve got to finish it’. Garnett is impressed and asks Hines to send him the manuscript when it’s done. Hines agrees. Garnett reads it, shows it to his close collaborator Ken Loach, and the pair fall in love with the it – who wouldn’t?

A Kestrel for a Knave (1968) Novel. (later filmed as Kes, by Ken Loach Hines co-writing the script).

Dr David Forrest

The book is published in countless countries, and the film is regarded as one of the finest that has ever been made in Britain.

A Kestrel for a Knave combines a meticulous, poetic attention to the experience of landscape and nature with a brutally unflinching portrayal of the tough conditions of working-class life. Through the novel and the film’s depiction of the relationship between Billy Casper and a Kestrel, we are taught about our capacity for hope, for redemption, for love, and for anger at the injustice of the world.

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While George is himself exploited caught between two worlds of labour -

George Purse used to be a steel worker and he took the job as a gamekeeper to move up in the world, but he finds he has much less agency in his new job.

He’s caught between two estates: the one where his ex-mates and colleagues live, and the one he works on for his boss, the duke. One of his daily tasks is to keep residents of the council estate out of the ducal one.

The Gamekeeper (1975) Novel. (later made into a film by Ken Loach, Hines co-writing the script).

Dr David Forrest

The cyclical nature of the story captures something of the rhythm of George’s life and the landscape in which he toils, the cycle of alienation and exploitation of both the landscape and the individual.

he’s also an agent of exploitation, as the film and novel follow him over a year where he nurtures and rears animals, only for them to be killed for ‘game’ by the Duke and his friends.

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The first part is called ‘Meet the People’, and concerns a royal visit to the colliery. The dominant tone is one of comedy, as Hines, Loach and Garnett show us the bosses falling over themselves to prepare for the Prince.

One of the miners, Sid, resists the enthusiasm of his overlords, and defiantly doesn’t take part in the celebrations. He gives the film its political conscience and reminds us that no-

A two-part ‘Play for Today’ set in the fictional Milton Colliery in the year of the Jubilee.

Hines again worked with Ken Loach and Tony Garnett to make an emphatic statement about working-class life in South Yorkshire.

The Price of Coal (1977) (later filmed by Ken Loach Hines co-writing the script)

Dr David Forrest

The second of these ‘two films set in South Yorkshire’ is ‘Back to Reality’, as the mood shifts from satire to sober realism. An explosion at the pit strikes at the heart of the community and reveals the brutality and precariousness that is central to the working life of a miner. The tragedy of the second film makes us re-visit the first, and exposes the deeply misguided priorities of the coal board.

amount of ceremony can mask the familiar issues of landscape ownership and the dignity of labour that recur throughout Hines’s work.

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Sheffield 1981, two school leavers Mick and Alan leave school and search for work. They can’t find any. Mick dreams of being a bike mechanic and Alan ends up joining the army and gets sent to Northern Ireland. Meanwhile, Mick meets Karen, a shoe shop worker who wanted a job in a primary school but didn’t get the grades. The two start a relationship. Karen lives in a high rise flat with her mum and they argue a lot. At one point out of desperation she and Mick drive down to Bristol to stay with Karen’s dad, a lorry driver originally from Newcastle who has moved south for work.

Looks and Smiles (1981) (later filmed by Ken Loach Hines co-writing the script)

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Dr David Forrest

The hopelessness of the film also comes from its young protagonists, whose initial energy and vigour is sucked out of them. The film ends with a freeze frame of Mick as he waits in the dole queue, staring into the distance.

The film powerfully documents the erosion of a sense of place in a changing and increasingly inhumane economic climate. The characters find that they have to be ‘mobile’ and must be willing to serve the market -- this has deeply negative effects on their self worth. Just as in The Gamekeeper, Hines shows us the dehumanising process of literally selling yourself for very little in return.

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Threads builds up a kind of everyday rhythm (milk delivery, shopping on a Saturday, kids going to school) as the nuclear war threat looms larger (news reports, protests). There is a tension between processes, people, and landscapes that feel utterly familiar and something that seems totally unimaginable, and when the bomb goes off Hines makes the distant and remote feel utterly plausible.

One part kitchen sink drama the other apocalyptic public information film. Sheffield 1984: middle class Ruth gets pregnant to working class jimmy. The two decide to marry.

Threads (1984) (filmed by Mick Jackson)

Dr David Forrest

Threads stops rather than ends. It is as though stories can’t function in a world bereft of common meaning.

The brutal post-war world is about the absence of ‘threads’, the implication being that without shared, common structures we become deeply selfish and individualistic - explaining the film’s status as a political allegory of Thatcherism.

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Landscape was always political, never a backdrop or a mere setting for fiction. Hines saw its depiction as a way of showing us the fundamental relationships between environment and identity. Dr David Forrest

Hines seemed to be ambivalent about city life. In many of his works, such as the little known First Signs, and Looks and Smiles the urban housing estate, typically formed of concrete tower blocks, is presented as stifling, limiting the possibilities for its working-class inhabitants to access nature and to cultivate the imagination.

The writing of landscape was absolutely central to Hines’s work. For him, the natural image was not static, not fixed like a painting or a photograph to be looked at passively, but always evolving and formed of multiple layers of history and struggle.

So, in A Kestrel for a Knave, the countryside around Billy’s estate is at once, mucky, hard, unforgiving; a place of work and toil, and alive with possibility and imagination, playing host to multiple non-human lives and stories.

South Yorkshire Landscapes

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Biographies

Patrick Murphy

Anton Want

Patrick Murphy is a British artist, designer and curator. His work is exhibited internationally and held in public and private collections.

Anton Want is a British artist and photographer.

Murphy’s conceptual approach is grounded in creating a dialogue with our surroundings and each other. He uses familiar objects and themes to depict and examine our culture, history and sense of place sometimes altering the original context of his subjects so they appear simultaneously both familiar and unfamiliar, encouraging and stimulating a sense of questioning and search for meaning from the viewer.

He works across a wide range of media and projects from commissions for large scale installations such as Belonging at Walker Gallery for Liverpool Biennial (2012), to being commissioned to create the installation Bruised not Broken for the BBC Easter Passion broadcast (2014). He curated the British Road Sign Project celebrating their 50th Anniversary at the Design Museum, London (2015). Large scale automotive artworks were commissioned for Coventry Transport Museum (2017).

More information patrickmurphystudio.co.uk

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His current artistic practice and writing is primarily concerned with the nature of change in British society through the portrayal of people, place and interpretations of identity. He has received international recognition for his work, exhibiting widely, including at the National Portrait Gallery, London, and his work is held in public and private collections. Born in Sheffield in 1971, Anton began his career in photojournalism, working at the Barnsley Chronicle newspaper in the late 1980s and early 1990s during which time he witnessed and photographed the effects of mine closures on local communities.

Whilst covering international sport during the 1990s, including commissions for Time and Newsweek magazines, he was named British Press Photographer of the Year in 1994.

Post 9/11, his focus changed to working on collaborative, project based work, artist commissions, exhibition and book publications.

Including Evidence (2003), War on Television (2004-8), Ambition (2009), Pit Profiles: Reprofiled (2011-13), and The Crossing (2014-17).

Dr David Forrest

Dr David Forrest is Senior Lecturer in Film Studies in the School of English at the University of Sheffield. Forrest has published widely in the areas of contemporary British film and television, post-war British cinema and television history, and workingclass literature.

Forrest’s first book was Social Realism: Art, Nationhood and Politics (2013), which explored the historical development of social realist film practice in Britain, and argued for the mode’s formal diversity and aesthetic complexity. In 2014 he embarked on a research project with his colleague in The School of English, Professor Sue Vice, which aimed to explore the work and legacies of Barry Hines. Drawing on the extensive Barry Hines archive, held at The University of Sheffield Library’s Special Collections, Forrest and Vice have so far produced 6 book chapters and journal articles, one book, entitled Barry Hines: Kes, Threads and Beyond, and a range of engagement and outreach projects with local community groups, schools, and artists, all of which have sought to shed new light on this important and under-appreciated writer.

In addition to his work on Barry Hines, Forrest is the co-editor of two recent books Social Class and Television Drama in Contemporary Britain (with Beth Johnson) and Filmurbia: Screening the Suburbs (with Graeme Harper and Jonathan Rayner). Forrest is currently in the process of completing his next book, New Realisms: Contemporary British Cinema.

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Work

The artworks featured in this book were created and shown as a multi panel installation of over 180 30cm x 30cm panels at 35 Chapel Walk Gallery, Sheffield as part of the Festival of the Mind, 2018. The panels made an ensemble installation displayed in a chronological order allowing for visual interplay between the various aspects of Barry Hines’s work.

Patrick and Anton created the works using a mixture of inspirational source material from the Barry Hines Archive and beyond. The adjacent list of page numbers identifies which work was created by each artist and also helps identify original source material and inspiration.

They gratefully acknowledge the permission granted to reproduce any copyright material in this book.

Every effort has been made to trace copyright holders and to obtain their permission for the use of copyright material. The publisher apologizes for any errors or omissions in the list and would be grateful if notified of any corrections that should be incorporated in future reprints or editions of this book.

Patrick Murphy Works on pages: 30, 45, 46, 47, 52, 56, 57, 59, 60, 60, 65, 67, 70, 71, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 83, 89, 90, 94, 102, 103, 105, 114, 115, 132, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 145, 149, 166, 169, 170, 171, 177, 179, 180, 187, 190, 191, 192, 196, 202, 203, back cover Based on stills from: Kes: 58, 61, 63, 64, 66, 68, 73, 87, 92, 182 Gamekeeper: 107 Price of Coal: 110, 111 Looks and Smiles: 49, 146, 147, 150, 151, 152, 154, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 167, 168 Threads: 178, 189,193, Dandy: 184, 185 Anton Want Works on pages: 35, 40, 41, 53, 54, 55, 59, 69, 72, 79, 80, 81, 82, 84, 85, 86, 91, 93, 101, 104, 106, 109, 112, 113, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 131, 153, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 172, 186, 188, 194, 195, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 214, 215, 216.

Photographs from ‘This Artistic Life’ by Barry Hines used with permission from publisher.

28, 29, 31, 32, 33, 34, 36, 37, 38, 39, 65, 91, 98, 100, 201 The portrait on 215 appears by kind permission of photographer John Angerson.

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Acknowledgments

Colophon

The Artists would like to thank the following people for their generous support, help and goodwill in making this project possible.

Published by Patrick Murphy / Anton Want 2018

Dr David Forrest and Professor Sue Vice in the School of English at The University of Sheffield.

Eleanor Hines Professor Vanessa Toulmin and the Festival of the Mind team including, Greg Oldfield, Polly Wilson and Ian Knowles.

Jacky Hodgson and the staff at Special Collections at The University of Sheffield.

Anne Horn, Director of Library Services & University Librarian.

Mark Hodkinson, Pomona.

Christian Brett, Bracketpress.

© All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission of the publishers.

Contact Information Patrick Murphy patrickmurphystudio@googlemail.com www.patrickmurphystudio.co.uk Anton Want awp@dircon.co.uk Online resource including press release untameableproject.wordpress.com

Richard King and the team at the Dearne Valley Landscape Partnership.

Further copies of this publication as well as art prints can be obtained from the contact details above.

The National Coal Mining Museum for England.

Support

John Angerson, Photographer

Untameable is part of the Festival of the Mind (2018), with additional support from the Faculty of Arts and Humanities, and Dearne Valley Landscape Partnership.

Kane Yeardley, True North Brew Co. Linnea Pettersson, Showroom Workstation Cinema.

Untameable is part of KES50, a two year project by the artists to mark the 50 year anniversary of both the book ‘A Kestrel for a Knave’, and the film ‘Kes’ by writer Barry Hines. For more information visit www.kes50.co.uk or follow @Kes_Fifty 223

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