Review by Tish Murtha and Kuba Ryniewicz – The Hole Closes and Loved Pets Struggle to Connect | Photography

IIn director Tish Murtha’s series Youth Unemployment, filmed in Newcastle between 1979 and 1981, young men are shown smiling and grinning, cigarettes dangling from their fingertips as they study a deck of cards or share a private joke. Alongside Murtha’s images in this show, a film by photographer Kuba Renević finds current Newcastle residents and asks them what makes them happy today. Topics talk about the sun, breakfast, and connecting with friends and family. The answers are almost universal, and you can imagine the people in Murtha’s photographs responding in the same way.

Although more than 40 years have passed since these two projects were split, they embody the human pursuit of happiness, regardless of circumstances, and the desire to seek comfort in the company of others. Both Ryniewicz and Murtha are celebrated for capturing their communities. Their ability to capture raw, real and unflinching moments derives from the fact that they have been there and living among them. It is this similar approach – and the fact that they both photograph Newcastle residents – that has brought them together for an exhibition in the Baltics called Close to Home.

Murtha is best known these days for her poignant photographs of the city in the 1970s and 1980s, when it was undergoing radical change, industry was declining and unemployment was rising. Her stunning portraits of working-class life are honest and vivid. It focuses on individuals and details the resilience of human connection in the face of intense external pressures. Murtha died in 2013, and Close to Home features four of her most important collections – Elswick Kids, Save Scotswood Works, Youth Unemployment and Elswick Revisited – showing them together in the North East for the first time.

Rather than being displayed in neat rows, Murtha’s photographs are displayed in a variety of sizes hung together salon style, with each series featuring a single enlarged image covering almost an entire wall. Such commentary is dynamic and exciting, allowing us to see the entire series at a single glance. In “Elswick Kids,” girls dressed in paisley jump down a cobblestone street, a child swings from the roof of a burning car, several children stand along a shattered bay window, and boys lean against a brick wall labeled “Thieves’ Corner.”

For Save Scotswood Works, campaign flyers, articles and letters are mixed with photographs, highlighting the importance of both the protest and Murtha’s documentation of it. Clips from Paul Sng’s documentary Tish play alongside Save Scotswood Works and Youth Unemployment sets, capturing Murtha’s own thoughts on her own practices and disgust at the government’s failed policy. Listening to her essay “Youth Unemployment in Newcastle’s West End” while looking at the young people staring blankly at broom handles or looking forlorn outside the job centre, you can feel the fire behind her decision to take these photographs.

Around Murtha’s works, we find Ryniewicz’s photographs – his Polaroids and prints in various sizes dancing around the room, appearing among Murtha’s collages, primarily stuck directly to the wall without frames. Born in Poland, Ryniewicz moved to Newcastle in 2004 to study photography, and presents Close to Home with new works alongside a diverse selection of images from three series: Daily Weeding, Cornered Study and Good Eggs – all shot within the past six years.

Ryniewicz’s charming images come to life. It’s lively, colourful, cheerful and full of flesh, texture and optimism. He photographs weeds, buses, baby bumps, and suburban shadows—and ordinary, everyday life transforms into a magical utopia under his gaze. A cow stands confused under an office building. A pale yellow bruise around the eye that goes well with the bleached hairstyle; A young man basking in the sun sparkles on the mottled grass, his tattoo of “Stars can’t shine without darkness” filling us with hope.

The problem with Close to Home is that whatever “home” means and how you capture it is very different from Murtha and Ryniewicz. This makes it almost impossible to create a comprehensive narrative. For example, on one wall we see a procession of people in Newcastle city center protesting the closure of Scotswood Works, and on the opposite wall a guinea pig hugging the chest of a hairy man. Meanwhile, Murtha’s brother removes beer bottles from the kitchen sink against a full-color image of a protruding pregnant belly bumping into a vase of flowers. It’s hard to join the dots.

Even when there is a temporary spark – as with Ryniewicz’s film and the Youth Unemployment series – one cannot escape the dark forces that linger at the edges of Murtha’s images, and this disturbs the playfulness of Ryniewicz’s images. You can’t pair the mother pressing her temples, or the boy staring out of an abandoned house with someone discussing the joys of drawing or hugging trees.

The wall text does nothing to help. While Murtha’s portraits have been largely discussed in historical and highly realistic terms, Renewich’s portraits have been described more conceptually, emphasizing his approach and materiality. Murtha’s works are displayed in embedded groups and Ryniewicz’s works are displayed randomly throughout. Murtha photographs spontaneously, and Ryniewicz’s images are often staged. The list could go on.

One gets the impression that Renewicz had to adjust his practices around Murtha’s great pieces of history – and he did. He anchored his images around hers, so despite equal billing, it is Murtha’s work that establishes the tone and Ryniewicz’s that must endure.

It’s a worthwhile endeavor, looking for a contemporary conversation with Murtha’s work, but Close to Home feels completely out of touch with reality. There is no denying that Murtha and Renewicz are outstanding photographers. They hold together effectively in this show is less convincing.