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Richard Hamilton (1922-2011)

Hamilton was a native of London, receiving instruction from the Royal Academy Schools between the years of 1938 and 1940. He then proceeded to study engineering design at a Government Training Centre in 1940 before being employed as a designer for ‘jig and tool’ machinery. In 1946, he returned to the Royal Academy Schools, but was eventually expelled for his failure to grasp the teachings within the painting school (Hamilton, p.10). Despite this setback, he later attended the renowned Slade School of Art from 1948 to 1951.

In 1950, Gimpel Fils in London hosted an exhibition showcasing Hamilton’s engravings, inspired by D’Arcy Wentworth Thompson’s bold 1913 piece, On Growth and Form. The latter had recently been republished in 1942, exerting a profound influence on Hamilton’s nascent work. As a testament to his creative aptitude, he also devised and curated notable exhibitions such as Growth and Form, presented at the Institute of Contemporary Arts in 1951, and Man, Machine and Motion, held at the Hatton Gallery in Newcastle upon Tyne and again at the Institute of Contemporary Arts in 1955. Subsequently, he exhibited at the prestigious Hanover Gallery in 1955, and contributed to the seminal event of This is Tomorrow at the Whitechapel Gallery in 1956, where he presented a striking collage piece entitled Just what is it that makes today’s homes so different, so appealing? for the event’s accompanying poster and catalogue. Alongside fellow visionary Victor Pasmore in 1957, he orchestrated an Exhibit at the Hatton Gallery and the Institute of Contemporary Arts.

Notably, Hamilton was a prominent figure of the Independent Group, an assembly of artists and writers founded in the 1950s at the Institute of Contemporary Arts. Their symposiums played a pivotal role in shaping the burgeoning Pop art movement in Britain. Hamilton was also a steadfast proponent of critic Lawrence Alloway’s widely acclaimed thesis concerning the ‘fine/pop art continuum’. In his own interpretation, Hamilton viewed this concept as a means of establishing the principle of equality in art – proposing that there exists no hierarchical ranking of artistic value. To him, Elvis held the same standing as artists like Picasso, occupying two distinct ends of the artistic continuum. Furthermore, Hamilton strongly maintained that television deserved as much recognition and influence as the likes of New York Abstract Expressionism.

Hamilton served as an instructor at the London Central School of Arts and Crafts and the University of Newcastle upon Tyne, but ultimately retired from full-time teaching in 1966. He also made a typographic rendition of Duchamp’s Green Box, which was published in 1960. Working closely with Duchamp, Hamilton reconstructed The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even (The Large Glass) (Tate Gallery T02011) in 1965-6. In the 1980s, Hamilton delved into incorporating technology into his artwork. He has had a successful career as a print-maker, and in 1983 he received the prestigious World Print Council Award. In 1991, Hamilton tied the knot with fellow artist Rita Donagh. Retrospective exhibitions of his work have been on display at the Hanover Gallery in 1964, the Tate Gallery in 1970 and 1992, and internationally. In fact, Hamilton represented Britain at the esteemed 1993 Venice Biennale.

www.ftn-books.com has several Richard Hamilton titles available. Among them the spectacular Stedelijk Museum catalog.

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David Hamilton (continued)

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A few years ago i wrote a blog on David Hamilton. It gavce some information on Hamilton as an artist, but now there is an absolute must read on Hamilton which ws recently published by Mutual Art magazine. Here it is :

The controversial work of the British photographer has long been part of the “art or pornography?” debate, a question to which there are no apparent answers.

Dreamscapes of nubile girls in French fields and farmhouses, an age of innocence teetering on that of womanhood; flowers and the thin fabric of dresses, all seen through the gentle distortion of a soft-focus lens. David Hamilton’s filmmaking and photography are quintessentially 1970s, a product of a time in which society was granted more freedom to explore avenues which may have been previously unchartered. But in today’s period of political correctness, collective guilt and finger pointing, where does it leave the viewer and lover of art? Does the rapidly changing world around us force us to now think and feel differently in terms of aesthetical enjoyment? And do purported wrongdoings on the artist’s part come into play?

There is a warmth emanating within a lot of Hamilton’s photography; washed out light seeping into pastel colors, diffused and surreal. There is also a great gentleness to his work; the images are delicate, as if they exist only amid a slow-fading memory. Hamilton is a master in this sense, possessing the capability to create a world of fragile dream or recollection. It is the same feeling one gets when they conjure up the almost-ancient reminiscences of childhood summers; a time brimming with the possibilities of life, of warm, languid days, when time seems to stand still.

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David Hamilton was born in London in 1933. During World War II he became an evacuee and spent time in the Dorset countryside, which would go on to influence his future work. At the age of twenty he moved to Paris where he worked as a graphic designer for Swiss fashion photographer Peter Knapp of Elle magazine. It was during this period that he began to make a name for himself. He returned to London to work as the art director for Queen magazine, but he soon returned to Paris. Back in the city he truly loved, he found work as art director for the city’s biggest department store, Printemps. Here, he started doing commercial photography on the side, and quickly gained success through his trademark grainy, dream-like style.
But with success the photographer also found defame. The public was either attracted or repulsed by the nudity and the subtle-not-so-subtle eroticism found in his images, and some critics summed up his work as trite. In the mid-90s, Hamilton stated that people “have made contradiction of nudity and purity, sensuality and innocence, grace and spontaneity. I try to harmonize them, and that’s my secret and the reason for my success.
While some have labelled David Hamilton’s work as pornographic, and some photographs are certainly erotic, numerous prints of his are almost completely devoid of sexuality. They are often platonic pieces, which aren’t intended to sexually arouse at all, similar to a nude cherub or statue. But his subjects are very real, which for the viewer can elicit a plethora of moralistic questions. Why was he posing young, semi-clothed girls in front of the camera? What exactly am I looking at here? Photography is a very poignant medium in this regard. With a painting, or a statue, there is some degree of removal between model and masterpiece — in capturing images on film there isn’t. The nude model is there before one’s eyes, the same as the artist looked upon amidst the throes of creation.Hamilton was an active photographer for most of his life, but after decades of shooting film and photography, sexual allegations began to surface, which he denied vehemently. Soon thereafter, he was found dead in his southern Paris apartment. An apparent suicide. In light of these allegations, is it our moral duty to have nothing more to do with Hamilton’s photography? Or is it acceptable to still appreciate the art? Do they even come into account at all? Afterall, the art hasn’t changed, only our perception of the artist, and what may have gone on behind the scenes. It is a difficult question, and one that only the individual can answer for him- or herself.

www.ftn-books.com has some David hamilton tiltles available