Ivy And The Celebrity Ladies Orchestra

 

When I was young, my Auntie Annie would tell me tales of her cousin Ivy, who played in an all-women's band. I never met Ivy, and her side of the family remained a mythical branch located far away on the other side of the Pennines. A few years ago, I received a box of old family photographs from someone who traced me through Ancestry, and there amongst them was a picture of Ivy (second from left) and her Celebrity Ladies Orchestra.

When Markets Were Markets

 

This photograph comes from the same strip of negatives as the one I featured yesterday and, we now know - thanks to research by Paul Hartley and Michael Horsfield - was taken back in 1967/68. It shows the old Brighouse Market, not far from where the bus station is today. This was back in the day when markets were markets (corrugated steel and light bulbs hanging by a wire), men were men (donkey jackets and flat caps) and women carried bags big enough to hold a stone of potatoes.

Time Extinguisher

 

I've tried to make up for the lack of a precise date on this photograph of mine by going back to the archives of the Milk Marketing Board to discover when this "Thirst Extinguisher" advert was current. No success so far, but perhaps the Bedford van and the three wheeled car are better clues. My guess is that we are being transported back to the late 1960s. "Photography - Time Extinguisher"

Domino Run

 

I took this photograph getting on for twenty years ago. It shows Cowcliffe Hill Road plunging down towards a suitably undefined Huddersfield. It's that row of terraced houses that captures the attention: stone-slate dominoes lined up, ready to tumble.

Skegness Rock

 

You can cut this picture up into a dozen pieces, and each one will have Skegness running through it. It will have a bracing wind blowing sand up from the North Sea beaches, it will have slot machines and dodgem cars, plastic buckets, and caravan parks. A bargain bundle for only one pound.

Edwardian AI

 

This early twentieth century picture postcard image of the approach to Halifax Railway Station has the look of something that has been created by a cut-price AI image colourising programme. It wasn't; it was created by the Edwardian equivalent, a cut-price studio assistant with instructions to make the hills green, the sky blue, and the horses look happy. It wasn't true, of course, but anyone who has been within a hundred miles of Halifax will instantly recognise the scene.

Real People, Real Lives

 

Whilst photographs may start out life as things that are intensely personal - this is Aunty Vera, this is our holiday - after a century or more pressed in an album and becoming sepia with age and neglect, they become things of interest to us all. The scene, the clothes, who is there (and who isn't): this is the stuff of history. These are not idealised portraits of kings and potentates; these are real people living real lives a century ago.

Just Messing

 

Why do we take photographs? Despite a lifetime of taking them, I am no closer to finding an answer. It's partly about wanting to capture a moment or maybe share a visual thought, but that is only part of the answer. I was walking the dog yesterday and stopped to take a photograph. "What are you doing?" she asked as she sniffed a leftover slice of pizza near a rubbish bin. "Just messing", I replied.

Three For The Price Of One

 

I wanted something cheery for Friday the 13th - there is enough bad luck and misery going on around us at the moment without me adding to it. We also have a Sepia Saturday prompt this week that features family groups, so here is my brother (left), my mother, and I (I'm the cute one on the donkey). And as we are approaching Mother's Day, this is for you, Gladys. Happy, family, and mother: three for the price of one.

Nostalgia Noir

 

I can vaguely remember taking this photograph of Broad Street in Halifax from what must have been the top of the Bowling Alley in the late 1960s. It was back in the days of slow films and fast cars. You'd have to acquire a special Photoshop filter to get such crude results from even the most challenged smartphone today. They'd probably call the filter "Nostalgia Noir".

Mondrian's Market

 

Black and white, light and dark: Bradford's new Darley Street Market seemed to present photo opportunities with all the enthusiasm of an overstocked trader's stall. There were loads of straight lines - Piet Mondrian goes to Market - but there was also a slightly bleached quality to it, almost as though Hockney himself had visualised it.

Do Seagulls Screech In Cleethorpes?

 

Whenever I look back at the photos I took in Cleethorpes in the 1980s, I am reminded of the trauma caused by the gradual loss of my hearing during that decade. For whatever reason, I seemed to be drawn to open spaces, to that hinterland between land and sea where vision was king and hearing didn't matter. No doubt the seagulls screech in Cleethorpes, but I never heard them.

Hope

 

Yes, it's a bit dark, but the world is a bit dark at the moment. The question has to be: are the steps leading us into or out of the darkness? I took the photograph on Hope Hall Terrace in Halifax. Enough said.

Spring And All Souls

 

The panel which I featured a couple of days ago, showing Edward Akroyd laying the foundation stone for All Souls' Church, is nothing compared to the rather grand bronze statue of Colonel Akroyd of which it forms a part. Indeed, the statue itself is nothing compared to All Souls' Church, which it stands at the side of. Last week's spring sunshine showed them both at their very best.

The Girl With The Throwaway Glance

 

19th century photography is photography of the constrained: studio photography of fixed poses, fixed smiles and fixed emotions. The twentieth century brought cheaper cameras and that meant photography of the people by the people. Of the people leaning against a wall with arms folded, of the girl with the throwaway glance, of the dog snoozing in the shade.

Tired Souls

 

Right next to the Grade 1 listed All Souls' Church in Halifax, there is a statue of the Halifax mill-owner, social reformer, Member of Parliament and church-builder, Edward Akroyd. On the plinth of the statue are a number of decorative panels showing key events in his lifetime, one of which is the laying of the foundation stone for the church in 1856. The panel is now somewhat worn, weather-beaten, tired and forgotten. Tragically, so is the church it commemorates. 

Courage Brewing

 

This was Courage's Anchor Brewhouse, which was next to Tower Bridge in London, back in the 1970s. When I took the photograph, breweries were still big and located in the heart of our towns and cities. These days, breweries are either of the micro variety, or they are formless features on out-of-town industrial estates. As for the Anchor Brewhouse, you can now buy a small apartment there for as little as £5 million!

Droning On

 

These days you would just launch a drone, but back in the 1980s we didn't have drones (probably a good things seeing what else drones can do). If you wanted an aerial photograph like this one of Upperthorpe in Sheffield, you had to construct a brutalist concrete labyrinth (aka Kelvin Flats), climb to the very top, and take your photo. I like to think it was worth the climb.

Forsooth

 

Shakespeare Street, Halifax : A lane obscure, yet bearing a name of renown, once did serve as a stately portal to a playhouse, a haunt for souls who sought diversion and wisdom. Long hath it languished in adversity, and now is it haunted by sots and knaves.

Britannia In The Trees

 

Britannia has sat on top of the rather ornate former bank at the end of Elland Bridge for 133 years. You might think she'd get bored, but I suspect she enjoys the ever-changing view. I've been regularly taking her photograph for the last 56 of those years. I, too, enjoy the view. Here she is on the first day of Meteorological Spring, 2026.

Prescience

 

I took this photograph a couple of days ago, gave it a title, and scheduled it in for my calendar for the 1st of March. Prescient, or what?