The Private Obsession of Miroslav Tichy

(Above) Tichy was known to sit for hours in wait of his unknowing subjects. The photo is in a handmade paper frame.
(Above) Two girls caught in conversation.
(Above) Two “secret” photos by Tichy, who often ran afoul of the law for taking photographs of women on the street.
(Above) A rare photograph, where the subject has actually posed for her photograph (or, at least it seems).
(Above) Processing the photos was also done by extremely primitive means—the result often having bad spots in the development.
(Above) An unknowing female subject gives subject matter for a beautiful picture.
(Above) Tichy, with his hand sewn clothes and his camera... which was made with sewing spools, a lens from found eyeglasses, rubber bands, toilet paper tubes and found cardboard/glue. The result: the oddest working camera you will ever see— something you might see in the movie Mad Max, or WaterWorld—where technology is lost and has to be re-invented.
(Above) A spooky photo of another female. This image is so odd it looks almost like a pre-natal sonogram.



An Accidental Mysteries “Blast from the Past” from January 17, 2009.

MIROSLAV TICHY HAS BECOME FAMOUS in spite of his need for privacy. Born in 1926 in what is now the Czech Republic, Tichy studied painting at the Academy of Art in Prague until the Communist takeover in April 1945. Arrested for being “odd,” therefor subversive, Tichy spent many years in jails and prisons, until he was released in the 1970s. Upon his release, he wandered his small town in rags, pursuing his occupation as an artist photographing the female form in the streets. He made his cameras from tin cans, childrens spectacle lens and other junk he found on the street. He would return home each day to make prints on equally primitive equipment, making only one print from the negative he selected. He stole intimate glimpses of his subjects through windows and the fences of swimming pools as well as in the streets, sometimes finding himself in trouble with the police.

The work, which might appear to the casual viewer to be intrusive voyeurism, takes on a melancholy and poetic quality. They are exquisitely produced small objects of obsession, which have no equal. He produced work, not for others, but for himself, with no regard for selling or exhibiting his pictures. Tichey’s photographs were known only to a few until July 2004, when he won the “New Discovery Award” at Arles. An exhibition of his work was also shown at Kunsthaus in Zurich in September 2005, and was one of the most curious and controversial photographic events of 2005.

Tichy’s work is now red hot. I first saw his work at the Outsider Art Fair in 2007, when it was exhibited by Galerie Susanne Zander, from Antwerp. His work is also exhibited by the Michael Hoppen Gallery in London.

One of the best Web sites on Tichy is the Foundation set up on his behalf: Tichy Ocean.

Some of the above text about Tichy is from the Michael Hoppen Gallery. Top two photos, from Galerie Susanne Zander.

Itinerant Photographer Mike Brodie

MIKE BRODIE IS A 22-YEAR OLD SELF-TAUGHT PHOTOGRAPHER, who lives his life riding the rails and photographing the sub-culture of people he knows or comes in contact with. He's been doing this since 2003, and calls himself “The Polaroid Kidd.” Brodie is at home with his tribe of train hopping wanderers. They accept him because he is one of them.

It’s a dirty, rough and dangerous life hopping freights. Freight trains are unforgiving, unfeeling giants—they groan and creak and will cut your foot, leg or body in half without blinking it’s monolithic eye.

Self-taught photographers of any substance are rare. Outsider artists Lee Godie (1908-1994), Eugene von Bruenchenhein (1910-1983), Morton Bartlett (1909-1992), Richard Shaver (1897-1995), Fred Ressler (b. unknown), Russian artist Alexandre Lobanov (1924-2002) and Czech artist Miroslav Tichy (b. 1926) are who I would consider the main core of self-taught photographers known and recognized today. Perhaps it is time for the name Mike Brodie to receive wider recognition within this exclusive club.

I have always believed that making art of real power and substance takes sacrifice, dedication and a single-minded effort to make your art above all else. Shooting real life on the rails cannot be done by a drop in visitor who shoots and leaves. Brodie is clearly at home amongst this sub-culture—and it’s there he is able to uncover and reveal to us a harsh and sad reality we would be unable to see otherwise.

Check out Brodie’s work when it was exhibited at Needles+Pens in 2007.

Seydou Keita: Self-Taught Photographer (1921-2001)

Following are the words of Seydou Keita, a self-taught photographer from Senegal, describing his life. I have always loved his work, and his story is very revealing of how many self-taught artists begin. Quite simply—once given “the tool” (camera, brushes, paints, pencil, etc.) a spark is ignited. His is a wonderful story.

“I STARTED TO PHOTOGRAPH IN 1945 IN BAMAKO. I AM SELF-TAUGHT. I had a 6 x 9 camera that one of my uncles had brought me back from Senegal. He had given to me also money to buy film. It all started like that. Honestly, it’s a craft that I practiced the better that I could: I was really in love with photography.

At the beginning I photographed my family. Some attitudes worked, some others not. I really had a bad start: people moved and I probably trembled myself. When printing, they all looked like skeletons. You see: I was really under-trained. I was asking my client the money for the print that I was doing at Pierre Garnier’s or at Mountaga’s lab. He taught me how to print. If the print didn’t come out well, I was into problems; clients were very angry, but they were the ones that moved!

In 1948 Mountaga admitted that I was qualified enough to lend me over his darkroom. I was doing all the processing, but in black and white only. Colour was around of course, but you had to send the films to France and anyway, I didn’t like it. For me it was the black and white that was the right thing. In those days, there were 4 photographers in BAMAKO: Issouf, Boundyana, Mountaga and myself. Malik Sidibe came afterwards. We were all doing portraits, but people used to say that my “cards” were the best. I had a stamp that I put on all my prints.

In 1949, I bought a view camera and started with 5 x 7 negatives. I was doing contact prints, that’s why I preferred 5 x 7. I had pinned on the walls of the studio various samples of my work: men or women in bust, alone or by two, or even groups up to 6 people, families and so on. The clients were telling me: we want to be photographed like this, you see? And I was doing it. But sometimes I was changing for a position that looked better. I was the one to decide in the last and I was never mistaking. It took only a few minutes, I shot one negative, never more. Many people were coming, buy on Saturdays, it was crowded: people were queueing: all sorts— shopkeepers, office clerks; even the president of the Republic came. I was doing the printing overnight and the spotting in the morning just before the clients would come and pick up their portrait.

With the 5 x 7 camera, the first backdrop that I used has been my bed cover. After, I changed them every two/ three years or so. That’s how now I can know the dates of the images. Sometimes the background worked really well with the clothes, specially for women. But it was sheer luck.

In those days, the culture of the ancestors was not so strong as it used to be. City dwellers dressed up like Europeans, very influenced by the French behavior. But not many people could afford to dress like that. At the studio, I had three different European suits with tie, shirt, shoes, hat, as well as some accessories: fountain pen, plastic flowers, radio set or telephone that I lent to customers.

For ladies, the dresses had not deeply changed yet. Western garments like skirts have been in fashion only in the late sixties. Women would come with their large dress and I arranged it: the more it was spread, the happier they were. The outfits had to show out in the picture: jewels were important as well as hands, long thin fingers, women were very concerned by that, they were signs of elegance and beauty.

I never met any foreign photographer. I never went out and I didn’t know their photographs as well. One could not find here any French or American magazines. The only publication available was the Manufrance catalogue.

I was working just as well with natural light as with artificial light. Some customers would prefer “night photographs” because they were paler, but I preferred natural light. They really liked my photographs because they were really sharp and also because they appreciated their set up. All that I know is: my pictures were really good.

When I look at them today, they have not changed a bit, they didn’t even change in color. I always worked with the same camera until 1977 and I kept all the negatives: they are all here: customers could reorder! None ever complained, otherwise they would have not returned.

If you like my work, you’ve got to know why. I know that many of my photographs are excellent and that's why you like them. I stopped photographing when color photography took over. People like it now but machines are doing the work. Many people call themselves photographers nowadays, but they don’t know anything.”

Learn more about Seydou Keita from this site: © DOMINIQUE ANGINOT, Lux Modernis.

Images © Sean Kelly Gallery.