My review of V&A's Gargoyles and Shadows published in FLIP magazine

The newly-redesigned FLIP magazine of London Independent Photography features my review of the excellent Gargoyles and Shadows exhibition at the V&A. The exhibition looks at Gothic architecture and its relationship with 19th century photography. Scroll down to read the review.




Westminster, Henry VII Chapel Exterior and Westminster Hall, 1865
Stephen Ayling
© V&A Images

Gargoyles and Shadows: Gothic Architecture and 19th Century Photography

At the V&A, Cromwell Road, SW7, until 16 May

This exhibition may sound niche, but the early history of architectural photography is pretty much the story of photography itself. 

A result of the ongoing partnership between the V&A and Royal Institute of British Architects, Gargoyles and Shadows is a diminutive but surprisingly rich collection of 19th century photographs and drawings of gothic architecture, offering a wider message about the role and use of photography during its formative years. 

Indeed, architecture and early photography were made for each other. Buildings don’t move, making them perfect subjects for early cameras with their long exposure times. You can see ghostly blurred figures in an 1855 image of Rheims Cathedral, taken by the French firm Bisson Frères. 

This albumen print reinforces the ability of photography to record the finest detail, and what better showcase than the intricate finials, window tracery and gargoyles of gothic architecture? “[One] can study from photographs with almost the same advantage as from the monuments themselves,” declared The Builder in September 1862. Early photographers weren’t afraid to lug their enormous cameras up to precarious vantage points, recording previously unseen - and dizzying - views of the gargoyles and spires on cathedral rooftops.

To modern eyes, it seems strange that old-fashioned gothic architecture was so popular among early photographers, who were at the vanguard of modern image-making. But the Victorian world was gripped by gothic fever, perhaps a reaction against the industrial revolution. In Britain, the medieval period was regarded as a “golden age” by gothic revivalists, and its architecture suitable as the nation’s style. As a result, buildings such as the Palace of Westminster were constructed in an elaborate gothic style. The new Houses of Parliament are juxtaposed with the old Westminster Hall and Henry VII Chapel in a wonderful 1867 photograph by Steven Ayling.

The period was also defined by a fascination with collecting facts. With so many old buildings swept away as the result of rapid urbanisation, there was growing interest in recording the built environment and preserving our architectural heritage. There was expanding public demand for photographs of historical and pictorial sights, such as views taken by Francis Frith & Co.

This obsession led to the British and French governments embarking on major photographic surveys of their architectural marvels in the later 19th century, as well as the establishment of organisations such as the Society for Photographing Relics of Old London. 

Perhaps the only disappointment of this exhibition is the absence of pioneer William Henry Fox Talbot, who used gothic architecture from the start. His first negative, taken in 1835, depicted an oriel window at his gothic revival home, Lacock Abbey in Wiltshire. 

But there is compensation, particularly with some excellent examples of picturesque photographs by practitioners including Roger Fenton, showing ivy-clad ruins: “Symbols of the folly of human endeavour in the face of time and nature”. 

Later in the century, a more painterly aesthetic was popularised. For me, the show’s most beautiful photograph is a view of a spiral staircase in Lincoln Cathedral, by Frederick Evans. Rather than providing a sober architectural rendering, it focuses more on the effects of light and shadow. “Try for a record of emotion rather than a piece of topography,” Evans wrote. As such, the exhibition reveals how far photography travelled in its first decades.