Since the 1960s, Birmingham has been home to radical Black British photographers, including Vanley Burke, Claudette Holmes and Maxine Walker. It was also in Birmingham that an influential photography journal was born, as explored in a compelling new exhibition, ‘Ten.8 afterimage’, at The New Art Gallery Walsall.
Rather than simply documenting the story of Ten.8,thisthought-provoking show creates a conversation between the photographs (and essays) originally published in this journal and the power of images today.
In Burke’s reprinted photograph ‘Carey’s Finger (The Accused)’, 2023, a Black hand enters the frame, pointing directly towards a public statue of celebrated industrialist James Watt, and the colonial histories often missing from such monuments.
In the same gallery, viewers are taken inside the home of Walker in her Black Beauty series, 1991. Sat before a mirror, engaging in rituals of self-care with a soft ball of cotton wool, she appears dressed-down for the camera, as if removing layers of expectation and the negative stereotypes that Black women are often subjected to.
Joy Gregory invites viewers yet closer in her intimate series of nine shifting poses shot on a single roll of film for ‘Autoportrait’, 1990, where she has emphasised her face, neck and hands.
These were among the images reproduced in Critical Decade, the final, 1992 edition of the magazine, which included critical writing by Stuart Hall and David A. Bailey. A copy has been laid out, among all 37 editions, in a glass case. Bailey, in his current role as Artistic Director of International Curators Forum, initiated a multi-year project on the legacy of Ten.8, of which this exhibition is the culmination.
It’s a strong opening to the show, which spans four themed rooms, starting with the final chapter, ‘Critical Decade’. This space also holds a newly commissioned work by Heather Agyepong, in which she’s drawn inspiration from Survival Magazine, of the same era, to represent its Black female contributors in heroic large-scale portraits.
In the second gallery, ‘Representation and Community’, consideration has been given to the camera’s role in shaping identity. Spanning one wall are images from the ‘Handsworth Self-Portraits’ project undertaken by Derek Bishton, Brian Homer and John Reardon. In 1979, they created a pop-up outdoor photography studio, allowing locals to take their own pictures with a long cable release button.
Children smile, a couple kiss, and groups pose expressively for the camera, which they were in control of. Collectively, both then and now, these portraits replace racist framing of Handsworth’s diverse community with a more positive, playful take.
On the opposite wall, painted cherry red, are framed studio portraits from The Masterji Family Collection, which document the lives of South Asian immigrants. One young girl opens an umbrella, another stands on a stool by a houseplant, while a wedding party poses together. In a world of digital images, they show how important printed photographs and albums are in preserving memories, identity and heritage.
Photographs can also be personally empowering, as proven by the next themed room, ‘Sexuality and the Body’. During the late 80s, issues of Ten.8 gave visibility to queer artists and models, and the interconnected nature of race, sexuality, and political struggle.
In ‘Gay’, an autobiographical black and white photograph from 1986, artist Sunil Gupta leans his head against his male companion and both stare at the viewer to assert – rather than conceal – their sexual orientation. Visible behind them is a cinema, where a sign advertises the groundbreaking queer film on screen, My Beautiful Laundrette.
Diagnosed HIV positive in 1995, Gupta has since used art to process the impact on his emotional as well as physical state. Sickness emerges as a theme in the collaborative work ‘Photo therapy: Libido Uprising (part 1)’, 1989, by Jo Spence (following her cancer diagnosis) and Rosy Martin. Together, they cast an unflinching gaze on the female body which they reclaim by performing with vacuum cleaners, bras and skincare products.
Another artist who examined illness, race and representation was Donald Rodney, born to Jamaican parents in Smethwick. Living with sickle cell anaemia, he spent much of his life navigating treatment and towards the end of his life became a wheelchair user.
This very chair, unoccupied and motorised, circles the gallery. A haunting self-portrait from 1997, ‘Psalms’, stood in for Rodney who was too sick to attend his solo show that year. It continues to encompass his presence and absence, while raising questions about legacy.
The enduring legacy of Ten.8 is successfully evidenced in this impactful show. It points to Birmingham as an epicentre for photography and its writings, which made waves internationally. The final room, ‘Evidence: New Light on Afro American Images’, transports viewers to America where Lorna Simpson’s conceptual photomontages assign new meaning to images. In ‘Cliff’, 2016, a well-dressed woman grows antlers, pointing to the subversive power of cut and paste.
By bringing together historic and contemporary photographic works, ‘Ten.8 afterimage’ reflects on this grassroots and locally launched journal’s role in shaping critical debates about representation, visibility, power and politics. Works by 34 selected artists are as relevant today as they’ve ever been.
Free to visit, Ten.8 afterimage runs from 1st May to 13th September 2026 at The New Art Gallery Walsall. It’s been curated by Pelumi Odubanjo, and presented in collaboration with International Curators Forum (ICF).
