Portraits to Dream In: National Portrait Gallery

Imagine being one of the very earliest photographers, exploring the meanings and possibilities of a new world. In the mid nineteenth century, and for a considerable time after, photography was very hands on, as much a darkroom science as art. This really was the reality for photography until fairly recent digital technology, that each plate was as much a consideration of time as light and composition. Now we can take twenty quick snaps on our phone, and choose the best, but then, each image was infinitely more considered. Every photograph required so much processing and further investment of effort, that quality far outweighed the idea of quantity.

Imagine being one of the first people to realise the painterly qualities of photography, and how it can capture aspects of character and personality unique to the medium.

We are used to seeing some weird Victorian photographs, the propped up dead family members in a studio setting, the glum, serious, buttoned up portraits. We appreciate that exposure took so long that people had to keep still, much longer than anyone could say cheese. In Cameron's work we know the subjects have been arranged and are sitting for a long time, really settled into the pose. There is a ghostliness about the slight blurring, an awareness of the soul, and what the photograph can only allude to but never capture.

I seem to remember writing my fine art degree dissertation about light hitting the camera, and how that is the same light that the photographer saw, that bounced off the subject. While a painting is the same paint, and a sculpture is the same stone that the artist touched, there is something about the same light, and sharing the same moment in time that is thrilling for me.

It's a rare and privileged treat to see so many of the actual prints in this exhibition. It's been a triumph of organisation and logistics to arrange international loans. Some of these images I knew quite well, and probably had on a postcard on my teenage bedroom wall. I love that feeling of being a bit star struck to meet an artwork in the flesh, to see its marks and substance, rather than just its image. These works are so rarely seen that they are too delicate to photograph directly, or to have flash. The relationship with light continues.

As a completely freelance and in fact unfettered reviewer, I can focus on whatever I like. I never feel it's my role to reflect an entire exhibition, but to give my impression. In some ways this show is curated with a delightfully light hand - the mounting and framing is meticulous, the colour of the walls are somehow unnamable and glowing, the lighting is sympathetic. The script on the walls is absolutely right, quite spare - how often has your eye been drawn away from the work, especially in photography exhibitions, to read the text? Here the work speaks for itself, and is arranged thematically.

However, I found the curation of this exhibition extremely insistent, if not heavy handed. I admit that I just didn't have the bandwidth to look at the Francesca Woodman photographs, and ended up skipping them entirely in favour of the Camerons. This was not a slight on a wonderful artist, but I felt the comparison and juxtaposition, a perfectly valid and reasonable curator's choice, just did not work for me. Perhaps it's like programming music - I can easily listen to a concert of Sibelius and Stravinsky, but I just can't listen to them at the same time.

I came to see the Julia Margaret Cameron photographs. I wanted to dive into that aesthetic. Yes, these two artists have so many qualities and parallels, in their allegorical approach to photography, and in aesthetic, but I would have had a preference for more separation in sections. In an exhibition I want to make my own discoveries, and not constantly be told how to see things. I love a bit of judicious juxtaposition. Portraits to Dream In constantly interrupts itself by shuffling the two artists together.

I was reminded of an exhibition I once went to in Prague, where the attendants were extremely annoyed that I wandered about rather than follow the prescribed sequence.

I almost want to return, this time just to look at the gorgeous Francesca Woodman works, the poignant flowering of a short life.

The National Portrait Gallery has had another revamp. It really is exquisite and well worth a visit. A Pay as You Wish scheme opens this exhibition up to all.

Francesca Woodman and Julia Margaret Cameron: Portraits to Dream In 

National Portrait Gallery,  London 

21March - 16June 2024

www.npg.org.uk2 francesca-woodman-and-julia-margaret-cameron-portraits-to-dream-in

Addition 21 March 2024

I woke up this morning in a new realisation about the curation question. I know enough about dyslexia to recognise its effect, even if that is delayed. A typical initial response is an inner feeling that there is somehow something wrong or missing with the self, because I can't access perfectly accessible information. I mean, what's wrong with me!

Dyslexia is about processing information in the mind. It's individual, but there are shared characteristics. The dyslexic mind is creative because it MUST invent for itself patterns and connections. What can be found in that way can be astonishing, but the dyslexic mind also finds it extremely difficult to follow prescribed patterns of thought. I recognise this. I know it.

It is typical of dyslexia to find it frustratingly distracting to be faced with conflicting and simultaneous information. The eye scatters - a simple example is that dyslexic people find columns of print difficult to read because their eyes are particularly distracted by the overwhelm of information in the other columns. This is the way Portraits to Dream In is presented. Perhaps it is a very smooth experience for neuro-typical and neuro-linear people to access. For dyslexic and neuro-diverse people I truly bet that I will not be alone.

This exhibition would be an ideal setting for a proper psychological study if it could quickly be devised and arranged. I have written about this area before, in the aftermath of my own psychology masters and study, and my experience of assessing exhibitions for Arts Council England. If it could be done, I'd love to do it.