Trendies, bickers, punks and mods. Pubs for farmers, the middle class, the working class and the classless.
Hippies spouting love peace, and anti-capitalism, whilst flipping empty properties for a profit.
Kids growing up not knowing who their parents were. Police that would give you a kicking because they didn't like the way you looked. Out of towners coming for gigs and fights. Drug-fuelled parties. Getting totally wasted. Sexual promiscuity in abundance. Everyone knowing everyone and everything that was going on. Young adults that were screwed up, fed up and pissed off. No wonder the suicide rate was so high.
That’s how Jonathan remembers Hebden Bridge.
THIS IS NOT A POEM
These are a collection of words that have a connection to the images, that surfaced whilst Jonathan was running barefoot over the hills of Hebden Bridge. The style, grammar, and punctuation mirror his disinterest in formal education and echo the no-rules ethos of contemporary photography.
A PICTURE POSTCARD
My hometown is not as it seams.
A pretty little place where there is lots to see.
Lots of caffe's bars and boutiques.
Craft shops, gift shops on cobbled streets.
A music venue for bands, raves stand up comics, open mic and private parteez
Surrounding country side for walks and hikes, canal towpaths, ideal for bikes.
But if you look beneath the surface its not what it seems.
There's boarded up a buildings, abandoned mills. Teenager's on the park popping pills.
Gummy's ket weed and coke.
Bottles of booze, it's no joke.
Suicides, murders, violent crime. It's a difficult place for the youth to shine.
I've lived here from being a lad.
I've had anxiety, depression and suicidal intention.
I've took drugs, drank booze I had nothing to lose.
But don't get me wrong it's not all bad.
When the sun is shining and buskers are out you'll see the odd local out and about.
The town is thriving its busy as ever.
Weekend tourists, hen does stag does and tv dramas.
But stray from the facade to see what i see. My home town is not what it seems.
You don't have to go far believe you me theres buildings in the centre with lots of graffiti.
It's scribbled on walls, on the phone box, lamp posts, pillars and doors.
There's fenced of areas you can't ignore.
Bushes, brambles, flowers and trees, encroaching nature to disguise the sleaze.
Overflowing bins from the night before spilling out strewed across the street. Dog shit bags at your feet.
Iv'e lived here for 50 years seen lots of changes and lots of tears.
Seen people come and people go.
Seen country lanes waist deep in snow.
The towns been cleaned up. Buildings sand blasted, some knocked down and some have lasted.
It's a lovely place to come and see but stroll from the facade and see what i see.
This is my home town.
Jonathan's relationship with Hebden Bridge is also central to his practice.
Today, the town is widely recognised for its picturesque landscape, independent businesses and
distinctive atmosphere. But Jonathan remembers another Hebden Bridge — the town he grew up in,
where he knew the people and where people knew him and his family.
One day, sitting in a café in the town centre with his mother and brother, Jonathan realised that he no
longer recognised the majority of the people walking through the square. The town had changed, and
so had his relationship with it.
Hebden Bridge — A Picture Postcard Town looks beneath the surface of the picturesque image. Tourists
may see the architecture, cafés and landscape, but Jonathan's photographs draw attention to the
people who live within the town and to the less visible aspects of its identity.
The project becomes both a portrait of a place and a portrait of change.