‘The Red Road flats were stunning – and terrifying’: Stunning images of a Glasgow in flux | Photography

IIn the mid-1960s, with a shot called ‘Beatle’s Girl’, Joseph Mackenzie captured one of Glasgow’s most enduring images. His photo showed a young man in the Gorbals’ slum wearing a dirty dress. Smiling and holding a cane, she stands next to a young woman wearing a dress patterned with the faces of the Favorite Four.

Images such as those by Mackenzie, and the street photography of Oscar Marzaroli, came to define Glasgow’s distinctive character – its Victorian tenements, grit and solidity – charting the industrial boom and subsequent depression, and its cycles of shortening, regeneration and demolition. But what happened next? Bringing together 80 photographs by artists from different generations, Glasgow’s Still Gallery takes place in the city’s Gallery of Modern Art (GoMA), capturing the changes and complexities through the eyes of people who have been there since the 1940s.

The show follows music, art, activism, soccer — and local traditions, like the “Gobstopper.” This was immortalized in Roderick Buchanan’s 2000 video, in which two teenagers attempt to hold their breath as long as possible while passing through the Clyde Tunnel. Here, some of the artists included in Still Glasgow explain what the city means to them.

“The lights went out the moment Franz Ferdinand started playing.”

Alan Dimmick

The music scene in Glasgow has always been small venues. It’s not fictional. It is on earth, there is no air and grace. This was a secret Franz Ferdinand gig for an unreleased album, in the basement of The Captain’s Rest, a small bar that had been around for a long time. A large number of people were outside trying to get in, but the room was filled with 30 to 40 people. Within a minute of the party starting, the power goes out and you can’t see anything. Eventually, it worked again, although it exploded a few more times.

I don’t know who they are. Their names were lost in the fire

David Eustace

I wanted to record a period of great change in the city – and in the streets where I passed musicians and performers daily in the early 1990s. As a recent graduate with little money, I came across an old disused warehouse near the River Clyde and began plastering and painting a wall that could be used as a backdrop for the studio. I was approaching street artists who had not only stopped what they were doing – making a living – but had actually followed me into this dilapidated studio in a quiet part of town.

Unfortunately, this was before computers, and the au pair’s names were recorded on paper documents that were lost in the fire. Thank God I still remember some of it. The series of silver fiber prints in the gallery were printed in my darkroom. These strangers, The Buskers, have played an important role in my life, and beyond just photography and work, they have brought opportunities that I could never have imagined when I first asked these strangers for help.

“I took 330 photos of the apartments just before they were demolished.”

Isolt Timmermans

I came to Glasgow in 1990. It was really strange. I felt like I came home. I have worked with Street Level Photoworks, Glasgow’s premier photography gallery, for 35 years. In 1990, I ran a project with refugees from Kosovo, and on the last day of the six-week project, one of the girls told me about her experience of war under the safety light of the dark room. After that, I drove her home to the Red Road Apartments. I’d never heard of them These buildings were reputed to be the tallest residential buildings in the UK when they were built: a vision of brutalist utopian living, architecturally stunning yet strange, terrifying and disorienting.

In those days, one of the buildings was a processing center for asylum seekers coming to Glasgow. It was like a huge, dilapidated hotel. I ended up running a community photography program there, in a flat at 10 Red Road Court, for 10 years. It had a terrible reputation but I had nothing but great experiences. Coverage of the Red Road Apartments has always been negative, so I decided to chronicle my experience being there.

I did it quite literally: I photographed every floor, every landing, every exterior view, right before the demolition. There were only six families left by then. I made 330 pictures. No one else has photographed the apartments like this from the inside. I first showed some of them in 2014, before the apartments were finally delivered. The exhibition not only provided a unique insight into iconic architecture that no longer exists, but also touched on Glasgow’s history of housing development and its welcoming of asylum seekers.

“I had to wear an alarm clock in case I got into trouble.”

Jane Evelyn Atwood

When I took pictures at the Great Eastern Hotel on assignment in 1994, I had to wear an alarm clock, in case I got into trouble with the guys who lived there. But nothing happened at all. Once a beautiful, luxurious hotel, The Great Eastern became a run-down house where people were supposed to stay a few nights and then move on – but many of them spent a long time there. I met some who had been there for 20 years.

It was completely turned on. There was a fire a long time ago. They swept away the ashes, but nothing more. It was a homeless hostel when I went, but the upstairs rooms weren’t really rooms: the partitions didn’t reach the ceiling, so you could hear everything, and the doors had fallen down.

I’m American and I couldn’t understand what anyone said. Although they were nice to me, my alcoholism was terrible. They drank so much that they were out of it by ten in the morning. They have been abandoned. There was no treatment of any kind. They were left to their own devices. I returned much later, when the renovation had begun, and only one pillar remained. It made me sad, wondering where everyone ended up.

“Being a part of that scene was so cool.”

Joan Tatham and Tom O’Sullivan

We lived and worked in Glasgow from the 1990s until 2011. In that time, the city was a place of real creativity and change. We were interested in what was happening, but also in the stories that emerged. This work, “Easels,” shows 15 artists in their studios. Each frame in the network is made from existing plywood.

In the 1990s, narratives about gentrification in Glasgow did not align with other places. Many of these popular spaces, such as Gray Wolf Studios and Wasps Studios, were established in the 1970s and were well established. They were seen as part of civic culture. Even though it wasn’t attractive, it was funded and was part of the environment. In 2016, we made a number of trips to do this work and had a great time. It’s a fun image that captures the feeling of the scene, but also the love of the landscape and its mythology. To be a part of all of that was so cool.

“We asked people: What is Glasgow to you?

Madelon Huicas

In 1975, Third Eye Gallery, now known as CCA, acquired a Portapak, the first portable video recording device, and invited me and the late Scottish artist Elsa Stansfield to work with it. We set up a studio where people can come and record their answers to questions such as: “What is Glasgow like for you?” People got involved. They can come in and feel heard. This was the first time something like this had been done in Scotland. The video is now lost, but the associated images still exist.

“This is Charlie Prodger before you won the Turner Prize.”

Matthew Arthur Williams

I’ve been in Glasgow for 12 years. It has become home and I have no intention of moving. I have been photographing artists for GoMA for six years. I usually take the photo in their studio or at home. I want people to feel comfortable with the way they are represented.

My GoMA work is by artist Charlie Prodger, before it won the Turner Prize in 2018. It’s encouraging when you see friends and peers doing well. It was a freezing day but bright and sunny, and we were in her apartment. Charlie and I worked together and helped each other. In Glasgow there is a close-knit community of artists who are always working together – we survive by sharing resources and making space for each other. The artistic community thrives here because of that. The situation in Glasgow is different to other places: funding is difficult, there is a lack of money for the arts, and conditions are precarious, so you have to make something out of nothing.

“My shot is a reminder of the fun times I had with my family.”

Khansa Aslam

In May 2023, some of us went from the Glendale Women’s Café to see Coming Into View, an exhibition of Eric Watt’s photographs in Glasgow. Inspired, we started working with photographer Robin Mitchell. One of Eric’s photos was taken at Maxwell Park in the 1970s. I was born and raised there in the 80s and 90s.

In my photo of Maxwell Park, I wanted to record the changes and similarities in the place. My photo is a reminder of the fun times my family and I had there, and I hope my grandchildren will one day. My Asian roots are an important part of who I am. I appreciate how generations of people from so many backgrounds have made Glasgow their home. My children grew up here and proudly call this city their home as well.

“Things improved in the 1980s as pride in the city increased.”

Keith Ingham

I moved to Glasgow 50 years ago, but I still identify as English. It’s that kind of place. I lived in the West End and frequently went to the public library to change my book – a beautiful purpose-built Victorian building. One Saturday, I walked in and it was full of stunning photographs – what became known as the social documentary genre – of the local area: Partick, near the River Clyde, a working-class area where the shipbuilding industry used to be located. I contacted the Partick Camera Club who created the exhibition. I was invited to do a project on the demolition and refurbishment of the East End. My footage was shown for the first time at the People’s Palace and was viewed by thousands.

That’s when I started getting serious about photography. I’ve never made any money from it, but I have enthusiasm and people know about me. The 1970s were not good, the shipyards closed, there were strikes, unemployment, a lot of anger and anxiety. It rose to prominence in the 1980s, and pride in the city and being Glasgow began. There was a huge garden festival, and in 1990, Glasgow became the European City of Culture, which was huge and generated an international reputation. It has changed dramatically.