Look back at the life of Brian Griffin
Oct 29 2010 By Alison Jones
Influential photographer Brian Griffin tells Alison Jones how a career U-turn has shaped his work.
Photographer Brian Griffin is almost instantly embarrassed when he describes himself as being “like a star in France” yet virtually unknown in his native Black Country.
“I am ‘well known’ I should say,” he says with a laugh.
He is being modest about his accomplishments.
Last year 90,000 admirers of his art trooped through his show at the photography festival Les Rencontres d’Arles, in the ancient French city which inspired Van Gogh and where Brian is held in such high esteem he was actually awarded the Freedom of it in 1987.
And the Parisians like him so much they offered him carte blanche to prepare an exhibition on a subject of his own choosing to fill the walls of a renovated 15th century chapel next to Notre Dame.
“England is relatively backward in its appreciation for photography,” says Brian by way of explanation for his comparative anonymity over on this side of the Channel .
“Other countries are far more advanced. France is one of them. Essentially France and the United States are the leaders in photographic appreciation.”
Commuters in Birmingham are currently being exposed to his work, however, in the form of an open air retrospective, Face to Face, which is being staged at Snow Hill Plaza, until November 21.
Curated by Pete James, head of photography at Birmingham Central Library, it is complemented by two indoor exhibitions at One Snow Hill – The Water People, a mythic tale of an expedition across Iceland, and Team, documenting the people who built the high speed rail link to St Pancras – which were originally shown in Arles.
“I think outdoor exhibitions are the modern way,” muses Brian. “I was a little bit reticent a few years ago because you have to surrender quality in order for it to be vandal proof and weather proof.
“But politically it fits in perfectly with me because it means the general public see it.
“A lot of people don’t like to go in the rarified atmosphere of a gallery so it’s great that everybody passes through and can have a look.”
The location also has more of an emotional connection for Brian. It is just a short walk away from Birmingham Children’s Hospital (then the General Hospital) where he was born in 1948. And Snow Hill was the station he spilled out from every morning back in the late ‘60s, on his daily commute from Lye to Birmingham and his job with British Steel at Lloyd House, now the West Midlands Police headquarters.
He has bitter-sweet memories of his time there after being unceremoniously thrust into the working world by his parents.
“I was quite a bright boy at Halesowen Technical School and I was going to further myself by taking my A levels and going to university.
