It’s been a shamefully long time between posts, exacerbated by travel, and my fascination with the new life growing inside me. Here, finally, is the post on the fabulous portrait and documentary photographer Mary Ellen Mark (b 1940-).
I am blown away by Mark's work. I would include her whole catalogue here if I could! It’s been hugely rewarding researching her work for this post, and delving into why she pushes my buttons on so many artistic and visceral levels.
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| Burning Ghat, Benares, India, 1989. Source. |
Her images are sometimes dreamy and gently comical, but more often stark and hugely confronting, like the one that first grabbed my attention from Women Photographers of National Geographic (but one I couldn't track down on the web). It was of an Aboriginal woman in Sydney in 1988, her eye swollen and blackened from being kicked by her partner. This was a very telling and important photograph at the time most of Australia was celebrating 200 years since European settlement.
In exploring such areas as homelessness, drug addiction, mental illness, and prostitution, Mark seems intrigued by the outcast, the marginalised exile, and she gives us a pass into their worlds often beyond barriers of class and culture. Somehow, she gains the trust of her subjects and delivers so many layers of raw impact, generally shooting in black and white. Here is humanity; unapologetically exposed and flawed, and such a breath of fresh air.
As a photographer, I'm intrigued by the audacity, luck/magic and exquisite timing it must take to create work like this. It can be difficult to overcome the practical and emotional distance from subjects. Oh yes. This is not something Mary Ellen Mark struggles with! Too often it's so tempting to stay lazy, buffered and manipulative with portraiture, to play with sentiment and effect. Ms Mark, thanks for the reminder that photography can encompass so much more of who we are and what the subject brings.
As a photographer, I'm intrigued by the audacity, luck/magic and exquisite timing it must take to create work like this. It can be difficult to overcome the practical and emotional distance from subjects. Oh yes. This is not something Mary Ellen Mark struggles with! Too often it's so tempting to stay lazy, buffered and manipulative with portraiture, to play with sentiment and effect. Ms Mark, thanks for the reminder that photography can encompass so much more of who we are and what the subject brings.
Mark’s work contradicts common assumptions about documentary photography and photography in general with her larger symbolic and perhaps mythic dimensions, making her work more like art. To me, this conjures some of the themes of Joyce Tenneson’s work, albeit with more social and environmental context.
The obsessions we have are pretty much the same our whole lives. Mine are people, the human condition, life.
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| The Damm Family in their Car, Los Angeles, California, USA, 1987. Source. |
From the beginning of her career, her images showed how she could put her subjects at ease. They would accept the process to the extent that they were able and willing to significantly participate in the process.* This collaboration seems to embody a kind of mysterious and ever-shifting creative dance.
In Charles Hagan's book, Mary Ellen Mark says “...You have to learn a certain diplomacy when you’re doing documentary. You have to be able to understand very quickly the framework of every situation you find yourself in, and be able to take command, in order to get the pictures you want”.
It’s an interesting balance. A quote like the above seems to suggest in Mark a calculated need to control and direct her subjects. She has the terrier tenacity to repeatedly keep coming back, despite initially protesting subjects, to get the shots she has in mind. Yet, this dogged dedication to her vision and artistic intuition has created a massive catalogue, images of great beauty and power. Perhaps this is just the balance Mark has needed to strike to gain entry into these closed communities. In her story on teenage runaways in Seattle in 1983, Mark revealed that rather than taking time to build rapport, she prefers to “...start shooting straight away – always. If you don’t, you’re misrepresenting your role in the situation”. After all, as Mark has also been quoted here as saying, you owe them this truth. “You’re taking some of their soul”. Wow. Did she really say that?!
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| The Man Who Loved His Tree, Uttar Pradesh, India, 1989. Source. |
This degree of honesty about the photographer-subject dynamic and Mark’s undeniable self-belief is fascinating to me. She can step into such confronting situations, stand true in who she is and why she’s there, and not be squeamish about the toll she’s asking, as I would tend to be. Perhaps that is just what works, and what makes this photographer a kind of genius creative conduit that her subjects (and then her fans) agree to engage with. The impact and scale of Mark's work can't be denied. There truly is such radiant truth and beauty here, and it opens the heart.
Whatever the process, Mark’s most beloved subject, the exile, the outsider, most often used to marginalised, disempowering treatment, seems here to be shown largely as they are, without sentimentality or artifice. The unbuffered human condition in all its frailty and strength.
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| Tiny in Her Halloween Costume, Seattle, Washington, USA. Mark was drawn to Tiny, a 13 year old prostitute, and returned to photograph her many times. Tiny is now married with nine children. Source. |
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| Beautiful Emine Posing, Trabzon, Turkey, 1965. Source. |
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| Jennifer, Tiffany, and Carrie, Portsmouth Ohio, 1989. Source. |
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| Amanda and her cousin Amy, Valdese, North Carolina, USA, 1990. Source. |
The shots above floor me. They seem to present a theme in the photographer's work, as Hagan suggests, a conflict between competing signals which can be jarring and fascinating to the observer. Here we see children struggling to fit into adult roles they don’t fully understand or aren’t really ready for. Little girls, in poses and behaviours that usually belong to adult women. This seems a rather familiar trend these days too.
In single frames, Mark delivers depictions of entrenched social issues that far surpass dry statistics. It hits at gut-level, and yet what is the outcome? If, as I said earlier, this work opens the heart, do we feel moved to more connection with the uncomfortable reality of these issues? Do we feel more optimistic about the prospect of change, and moved to help? Or does this same quality that makes us pour over her work, have an element of the hungry voyeur peering and leering into forbidden worlds? In an era of media saturation and over-commercialisation, are we desperate for things that are gritty and real? Do we end up feeding off people who have so little, before we sink back to our everyday comforts and privileges? Is it ethical for Mark to express her creativity in a way that uses bits of marginalised people’s souls as paint on a canvas?? Lordy. I am complicit, and painted too in all these shades of grey.
Rant satisfied, back to the normal programming...
An intriguing partner to the realism of much Mark’s work is the almost dreamy element of fantasy, theatre, and fairy tales. She has been drawn to spend time with circuses in India, Mexico and Vietnam, places where “...the line between everyday life and the theatre is constantly blurred”*. Instead of focusing on the crowds and shows themselves, it is the performers behind-the-scenes that fill the frame. For many of them, there is a sense of pride in their celebrity stature, but they are anonymous outside their small world, and shown to be very human, often seeking the companionship of animals.
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| Acrobats Rehearsing Head-to-Head, Great Golden Circus, Ahmedabad, India, 1990. Source. |
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| Ram Prakash Sing with his Elephant Shyama, Great Golden Circus, Ahmedabad, India, 1990. Source. |
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| Contortionist with Sweety the Puppy, Raj Kamal Circus, Upleta, India, 1989. Source. |
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| Monkey Trainer's Daughter, New Delhi, 1980. Source. |
Perhaps this love of exploring closed theatrical worlds was stimulated by Mary Ellen Mark’s work shooting production stills in the 60s and 70s for such classics as Apocalypse Now, Alice’s Restaurant, and Fellini’s Satyricon. What a life! She says there was “...much more freedom then”. Today, movies are big money and big business, and her level of access is controlled and diminished by financial and time pressures.
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| Marlon Brando on the set of Apocalypse Now, Pagsanjan, Philippines, 1976. Source. |
| Fellini on the set of Satyricon, Rome, 1969. Source. |
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| The cast of one flew over the Cuckoo's Nest posing for their photograph on location at the Oregon State Hospital, Salem, Oregon, 1974. Source. |
Touring the maximum security ward of an Oregon mental hospital where Cuckoo’s Nest was filmed, Mark was so moved that she returned 5 years later and spent over a month shooting and interviewing the women confined on the ward. These images were published in American Photographer magazine, and eventually, as the outstanding book Ward 81 (1979). While often distressing images, as in Mark’s other works, these women were presented with an unapologetic dignity and humanity.
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| Feet strapped down in bed, Ward 81, 1976. Source. |
Similarly, her work with prostitutes on Bombay’s Falkland Road pack a huge emotional punch, and I find them hard to look at. The word ‘powerful’ doesn’t do them justice, and the element of colour (insisted on by Geo’s editors) brings a new dimension of vividness to the squalor of the rooms, and suggested activities therein, combined with the women’s colourful saris. Perhaps the reason why images from India have been so featured in Mark's work, and in this post, are because this country does have such heart-breaking and fascinating contrasts and extremes.
| Falkland Road, Bombay, India, 1978-9. Source. |
There has been much debate about how Mary Ellen Mark's style is classified, whether documentary or portrait photography, but more interesting to me is the complex interplay of what she brings to each shoot and the vivid emotional power and strength she manages to invite from her subjects. It says just as much about our own ideas about belonging and vulnerability, and strips off our own masks as we absorb the works. Sometimes all these facets can be acutely uncomfortable! Mary Ellen Mark’s talent and tenacity is undeniable, and inspirational.
As Charles Hagan writes, “Her photographs show us the lives of others, whether social outcasts or film stars, in all their strangeness and beauty. At the same time, they enact deeper truths, of the sort usually reserved for the most far-reaching fiction”.
*Huge thanks to Charles Hagan whose book Mary Ellen Mark contained the quotes that weren't otherwise attributed (and many of the themes) contained in the above post.





















































