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The Pool of London, 1949

Continuing his series of profiles of photographers who pictured the East End in the twentieth century, Contributing Writer Mark Richards explores the photography of Bert Hardy

Source: Bert Hardy, Photographer | Spitalfields Life

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The Arches, Mare St by Albert Turpin

When I first published David Buckman‘s introduction to his book From Bow To Biennale in these pages in 2012, The East London Group – one of the major artistic movements to come out of the East End in the last century – was almost forgotten.Four years and several exhibitions later, the East London Group is rediscovered and an enlarged and revised edition of David Buckman’s essential ground-breaking book is newly published.

How is it that one of the most innovative, commercially successful, and – in its time – hugely publicized British art groups of the twentieth century became neglected?  That was the case until…

Source: The East London Group Rediscovered | Spitalfields Life


LE172

There is an unmistakeable melancholic beauty which characterises Eva Frankfurther‘s East End drawings made during her brief working career in the nineteen-fifties. Born into a cultured Jewish family in Berlin in 1930, she escaped to London with her parents in 1939 and studied at St Martin’s School of Art between 1946 and 1952, where she was a contemporary of Leon Kossoff and Frank Auerbach.

Yet Eva turned her back on the art school scene and moved to Whitechapel, taking menial jobs at…

View originalEva Frankfurther, Artist | Spitalfields Life.


A beautiful and heartfelt evocation of growing up in the East End of London in the 1950s and ’60s, written by Pete Johnsonwith the rose-tinted spectacles removed.


Originally posted on beetleypete:

With apologies to Marcel Proust for stealing his title, I confess to a lot of time spent in remembrance of things past. Not just lately, but for much of my life. Even as a man in my twenties, I constantly reflected on my childhood, and my early school years, developing a habit of looking back that I never lost. I was caught up in a chain of nostalgia, from which I found it difficult to escape. When I got to secondary school, I pined for my primary school, and less pressure. Once I left school and started work, I really regretted leaving education, and thought about those last few years at school with great fondness. Every job seemed better than the one that followed it, and I managed to conveniently forget my reasons for wanting to move on in the first place.

During a convivial dinner party that we were…

View original 1,063 more words

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Sarah

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