But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old:

“It’s clever, but is it Art?”

Margaret Thatcher recited these lines by Rudyard Kipling for her speech at the Royal Academy Annual Dinner in 1980. The audience included then President of the Royal Academy, Hugh Casson, whom she commended as a figure capable of distinguishing between “art” and “not art”. In her eyes, the State had a responsibility to make these distinctions, and fund “excellence” accordingly.

It would be interesting to see what the Iron Lady would have to say in response to The 80s Photographing Britain (21 November 2024 — 5 May 2025) at Tate Britain, an exhibition which explores how photography was used for political purposes during the decade. Protest and activism are foregrounded as central themes in Thatcherite Britain, something that is addressed upon entry and illustrated through the work of seventy photographers.

The first room is information overload: a mismatched display reminiscent of a political box of Celebrations, assembled just in time for Christmas. Flavours include the miners’ strikes, unemployment, anti-nuclear arms protests, anti-racism marches, the gay rights movement, poll tax… (suddenly the leftover Bounties don’t seem too bad). Hordes of people congregate around difficult-to-digest texts that are crucial requisite reading in order to understand the accompanying images and archival materials.

Themes structure the remainder of the exhibition, in varying degrees of coherence. Room two, “The Cost of Living”, explores 80s class dynamics and stereotypes. Social mobility is presented as a Thatcherite product, marred by sin. Interesting here are the mischievous works of Martin Parr (b.1952). “The Cost of Living” (1986—9) series explores working- and middle-class leisure. The Conservative “Midsummer Madness” Party, Bath, Avon (1989) depicts two formally dressed gentlemen mid-conversation, one chomping what could be a slice of cake. The hawkish stare of a coiffured woman foregrounds the image, crumby plate on lap, adorned in a patterned Laura Ashley-esque dress. Flash is used by Parr to illuminate and concretize the keeping up of appearances. “Madness”, indeed.

Snapshot insights do not harangue but invite us to observe. Paul Graham’s “Beyond Caring” (1984—5) series comprises discreet photographs of Unemployment and Social Security offices in Britain. Nauseous sickly green walls bleached by brash florescent strip lights. The utilitarian nature of these fixtures — purpose, not beauty — illustrates the point of the series excellently. Bare minimum effort for meeting “ends”. Redundant men are captured in these settings, slumped and glum.

Aesthetic potentialities of photographs are sacrificed for activist purposes, albeit with occasional glimmers of hope

Titles for both series by Parr and Graham shape our interpretations. A room in the exhibition is dedicated to the relationship between image and text, highlighting the importance of conceptual art in the decade. Artist and academic Victor Burgin (b.1941) was inspired by advertising methods to combine the two in order to excavate hidden meanings. UK 76 (1976) comprises a black-and-white photograph of a thatched cottage, signposted with “PRIVATE” on the grass lawn. Text is overlaid in the bottom right-hand corner, part of which explains: “You mustn’t be too hard on them. So many things to cope with. So much to do. They keep rabbits. They keep house. They keep up appearances.” Burgin’s class-based indictments of the English country tradition converse with and develop earlier works in the exhibition, such as those by Parr, by overlaying photographs with text. Barbour-wearers beware.

Political diatribe certainly demonstrates the manipulative potential of photographs, but this time to unveil a clear curatorial slant. Aesthetic potentialities of photographs are sacrificed for activist purposes, albeit with occasional glimmers of hope. In the “Landscape” room, Jem Southam’s “Red River” (1982—7) series traces the remnants of tin mining down the course of a river in Cornwall. Quaint cottages emerge on hazy Cornish moors, one window glowing cozily in the evening dusk. Orkney Standing Stones (1991) by Albert Watson is equally Romantic: ancient ruins captured with a modern technology in monochrome portraiture, alive in its timelessness.

Aesthetic readings must be grasped through predictably politicized wall texts, and all roads lead back to Thatcher as scapegoat. Tired feet near to the end? One bench is positioned so that one can observe an isolated photograph of Thatcher, cut-out as a target practice and splattered in orange paint. Friendly Fire, target (Margaret Thatcher) (1989) by Anna Fox is a cathartic release for visitors wooed by the exhibition narrative. Excess attention on Thatcher and her premiership as a framing device attributes her the root cause of all tumult, despite her evident contemporary popularity that resulted in a triple election victory and more recent public crowning as “the greatest British Prime Minister since 1945” according to a YouGov Survey (2019). Nevertheless, this sustained attack provides unity to an exhibition which otherwise appears disjointed.

For visitors overwhelmed by the dispersed content, an alternative walk-through could be a banality bingo – terms such as “crucial”, “problematize”, and “urgent” echo throughout. Be warned, however, that this is not a game for children. Shield young eyes from the inflated photograph of anal beads against naked buttocks, a scenario made all-the-more immediate through the medium of photography.

Gift shop, anyone?

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The 80s Photographing Britain is at Tate Britain from 21 November 2024 — 5 May 2025