connections - Tish Murtha
Lately, I’ve noticed myself becoming more and more drawn to artists I can relate to on a personal level, those whose work sparks a bond through shared experience or background.
One artist I’ve felt a deep connection with for some time now is the photographer Tish Murtha.
About the Artist
‘Tish’ (Patricia) Murtha might not be a name you're familiar with, as she spent much of her life struggling to gain recognition for her work. It's only in the years since her passing, and thanks to the dedication of others, that she's finally receiving the acknowledgement she so richly deserved
Born in 1956, Tish grew up in and around my hometown of Newcastle, in the North East of England. Life was tough for Tish, she was the third of ten children and left school at 16 to take on a string of menial jobs.
Her path into photography was anything but ordinary. After stumbling upon a discarded camera in an abandoned building, and with encouragement from friends, she joined a local evening photography class. It was there that her lecturer saw her potential and urged her to apply for a Documentary Photography course at the University of Wales. She made it, but only after that same lecturer helped her secure an educational grant.
After graduating, Tish returned to Newcastle with a powerful drive to document marginalized communities from within. She built strong relationships based on trust, allowing her to photograph people and places with authenticity and intimacy. Her own working-class background gave her a deep empathy for her subjects, which comes through clearly in her work.
Tish sadly passed away on March 13th 2013, just one day shy of her 57th birthday, after suffering a brain aneurysm. True to her generous spirit, as an organ donor she went on to save the lives of four women and eyesight of four men.
Tish’s work
Tish was relentless in documenting through her photography the impact of political decisions that devastated the local economy. The decline and eventual closure of coal mining and shipbuilding, the two main industries in the region, left generations jobless and struggling.
Her most iconic series, Youth Unemployment and Juvenile Jazz Bands, showcase the tenacity, wit, and resilience of the young people growing up in this harsh environment. These aren’t just images of struggle; they’re portraits of strength. The more I delve into Tish’s work, the more I realize she wasn’t simply photographing people - she was photographing her people. Many of her photographs taken in the Elswick area focus on the lives of those closest to her, siblings and others with whom she had a personal connection. In a way, even as she turned her lens toward the lives of others, she was also capturing the challenges of her own tough upbringing.
Although Tish’s work is now quite rightly celebrated, it was largely overlooked during her lifetime. She exhibited in smaller galleries but never earned a sustainable living from her photography. Tish lived with the weight of poverty throughout her life, weeks before her death having to make a hard choice between heating her home or using that money to buy food.
It was only after her death that her daughter, Ella, took on the monumental task of archiving her mother’s prints and negatives. Thanks to Ella’s dedication, Tish is finally getting the recognition she always deserved.
Karen moving furniture from Youth Unemployment (1981) by Tish Murtha © Ella Murtha
Connections
I have already touched on how Tish and I share a birthplace, but there are secondary connections that add depth to this tale.
Chris Killip
Earlier this year, I wrote about another influential photographer: Chris Killip. Like Tish, Chris was drawn to the decline of Tyneside and the people most affected by it - many of whom were the very youth Tish went on to photograph. Readers of that post might recall that Chris captured the same crumbling streets my grandmother’s community, and even some of the ships I helped build in my younger days.
But beyond their shared subjects, I recently learned there’s another, more personal link between Chris and Tish. When Chris passed away in 2020, Tish’s daughter Ella posted a tribute to him on Instagram alongside a touching photo…
“Chris was a good friend to my Mam back in the day, helping her out with photographic paper when she couldn’t afford it and letting her use his darkroom.
He was a very special man and he will never be forgotten.”
Here we had two like-minded photographers fighting a common cause and helping each other when times get tough.
Sam Fender
by Tish Murtha © Ella Murtha, All rights reserved
Given that Sam Fender isn’t a photographer, this particular connection might not be obvious at first glance. But Sam is one of my absolute favorite musicians, renowned for his evocative storytelling about working-class life and his deep-rooted ties to the North East of England.
A multi-award-winning artist, Sam grew up just outside of Newcastle in a household that, like Tish’s, faced its share of hardship. With a family struggling to make ends meet, his songs often reflect the real-life challenges he and others around him experienced - grief, financial pressure, and the loss of close friends and loved ones.
It’s been reported that Sam is a big admirer of Tish’s work. Beyond their shared connection to place and upbringing, Sam has now featured her photography alongside the songs on his most recent album, People Watching. Her images serve as the perfect visual counterpart to his lyrical portraits - both honest, raw, and deeply human.
Personal connections
Growing up under governments that often seemed to turn their backs on the working class, I saw firsthand the impact of industrial decline and rising unemployment. While I didn’t grow up in poverty myself, many of my childhood friends came from families carrying the weight of financial strain. The young people Tish photographed remind me so much of those friends. These were kids who could find joy in the simplest things, foregoing a need for material possessions to make them happy.
It’s this shared experience, this thread of connection, that draws me to artists like Tish Murtha, Chris Killip, and Sam Fender. Each of them, in their own medium, tells the story of a familiar place and its people - stories that, in many ways, I can relate to.
How Tish has impacted others
For a deeper look into how Tish impacted others, I highly recommend a couple of excellent videos.
The first is the official documentary on her life, aptly titled Tish (preview here), which includes heartfelt interviews with those who knew her best. It’s available via the BBC in the UK and was recently released on Amazon Prime in the US.
The second is an excellent video (shown below) by the insightful Sean Tucker, who takes viewers into Tish’s world. In it, he shares the powerful lessons she taught him - not just about photography, but about seeing people with empathy and honesty.
Artist showcase
As always, I will present a brief selection of favorite images that I feel give a great sense of who Tish was as an artist.
All images by Tish Murtha © Ella Murtha
The power of connections
Tish and daughter, Ella
Photography, and art in general, is all about personal connections. Whether it’s with the subject matter, the location, or even your own memories, those connections shape the way we see and feel about an image. But sometimes there are deeper layers hiding just beneath the surface, subtle connections that can add even more meaning once exposed.
For me, finding these connections brings a photographer or image so much closer, making them feel more personal and alive. I can’t help but wonder if others have had similar experiences.
I’d love to hear your story - have you discovered connections that have deepened your own appreciation of a photographer or photo?