Photographer Michal Sierakowski recalls travelling across Poland to document the post apocalyptic-landscape of the Sudetes mountains for his acclaimed ‘Uranium’ series

Back in 2013, I found out that Poland used to be one of the biggest suppliers of uranium ore for the Soviet Union, and I found the story incredibly interesting. The Sudetes mountains were at the centre of this industry, and have been a centre of mining itself in the region for over 800 years. When I arrived on location for the first time, I didn’t find it very interesting, so I kept going back until I found something that caught my attention, shooting on a 4×5 large format camera so I could slow the process down and think about each and every frame. I needed to ‘dig up’ the interesting things from a mostly uninteresting landscape, bury it behind the picture, so the viewer could dig it up again. I wanted to hide the topic, just as the uranium is hidden beneath the mountains.

I wanted to find out more about the people who had populated the area in its heyday, so I decided to visit a regional branch of the National Atomic Agency – a small office from the 1970s. The lone staff member seemed surprised in my interest in the topic and eagerly pointed me in the direction of museums and a few contacts. They reminded me that over the last 60 years, most of the miners and engineers had long since passed away. However, one person that was still alive to tell the story of the area was the former director of the secret R-1 industrial works, which searched, mined and enriched uranium ore.

Involved in uranium mining since the early 50s, he told me much about Soviet bureaucracy and the business of industry in the area. Polish miners, he suggested, were only contracted to sell ore that yielded at least 0.2 per cent of uranium by mass and were paid for only this amount. So when the miners happened to find pitchblende – a radioactive mineral and ore yielding up to 60 per cent uranium – they simply crushed it and mixed it with regular rocks, until the final mixture yielded exactly this percentage of uranium required. Of course processing pitchblende would be easier, but rules are rules….

Meanwhile, in the 60s, when the facility’s giant waste tips were being recycled to produce gravel for roads, locals joked they didn’t need street lamps, because the roads themselves glowed. The locals still tell tales relating to the pre-war German presence, and to the numerous Nazi underground facilities which are located in the nearby Owl Mountains. There’s also a lot of stories about people going into the woods of the Sudetes and never coming back; in general the atmosphere of the place is really mysterious.

Michal Sierakowski is a finalist for the New East Photo Prize, hosted by Calvert 22 Foundation

Photography Michal Sierakowski

Photographer Marcus Drinkwater returns to the former home of West Ham FC meet the local residents and businesses affected by the club’s move to London’s Olympic Park

I’ve been a West Ham fan since I was a child. My dad used to take me to home games in the late 90s and The Boleyn Ground (aka Upton Park) just captivated me. There was something about the imposing nature of the Bobby Moore Stand and the atmosphere the fans created when they would sing ‘I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles.’

I recently completed my degree in documentary photography at the London College of Communication and West Ham’s last season coincided with my final major project. It seemed like fate, so I set out to document the community in the last year at the Boleyn Ground and it took the form of a mock programme.

The community that gravitated to Upton Park has been forged over 112 Years. I feel I had to do it justice by documenting its swift change beyond recognition, so I travelled to every home game and watched the games in the working men’s clubs where the sense of community was so strong. 

West Ham’s impending exit from the stadium brought everyone together, but it was bittersweet. It allowed fans to reflect on what the ground meant to them and to swap stories and memories; there was great sadness in leaving, but also a growing optimism for the future of the club. The closure will affect the community greatly; it would be fair to say that many businesses, such as the Boleyn Tavern, have survived there so long because of the match days.

East Ham Working Men’s Club has lost its biggest earner, too. It was adjacent to the stadium, which meant that fans would meet there before a game. When I photographed one of the ‘Tea Dances’ the club holds on Thursdays for the local pensioners, they expressed great concern about the club’s closure. If it shut its doors, they would have nowhere to socialise and see their friends.

This is the story of London epitomised, it’s an area and a place steeped in tradition with strong community links. It’s an area that’s being demolished to make way for luxury dwellings that none of the current residents will be able to afford.

London is losing many of its communities, while property developers hold the cards. For me this is just the beginning, the area continues to change and the story will change with it. Maybe after the flats are built the area will see a resurgence. Only time will tell.

marcusdrinkwater.com

Gallerist and curator André Magnin reflects on the genius of Malick Sidibé, the photographer who captured the energy and optimism of 1960s Mali

I have always been the closest collaborator of Malick Sidibé’s until his death in April this year. I had organised many exhibitions of his work around the world since 1994 but there has never been a solo exhibition of his works in the UK. When Somerset House and 1:54 Contemporary African Art Fair approached me to curate this exhibition during the fair this year, I gladly accepted.

The display includes 45 prints which are divided into three themes. Nightlife in Bamako was made between 1963 and 1965 – these photographs exude the energy and optimism of that euphoric moment in a country rejoicing in the wake of independence. The following series, Beside the Niger River taken in the 1970s, shows young Malians at their leisure enjoying outings by the beach, while the final section, The Studio, consists of more formal photographs taken at his studio between the 1960s until 2001.

The design of the gallery space replicates the look and feel of ‘Studio Malick’ with a distinctive black-and-white patterned vinyl flooring, which can be seen in many of his portrait photographs. In addition to this, a gallery soundtrack has been specially curated for this exhibition by DJ and African music expert, Rita Ray, to recreate the sound and spirit of the nightclubs where many of his photos were shot, and his own studio, which was described as often being “like a party”. The soundtrack will feature an eclectic mix of music and urban sounds to which Sidibé’s photographic subjects may have listened, from the rock ‘n’ roll, pop songs and fusions of the continent in the 60s and 70s to timeless Malian roots music.

Malick Sidibé was well known by ‘le tout Bamako’ (the people of Mali’s capital city), as an excellent photographer and reporter. He was invited to every family meeting or surprise party, which enabled him to document these occasions at close hand.

He found international recognition in the 1990s when he received prestigious international awards, including the Golden Lion Award at the Venice Biennale and the World Press Photo award. Thanks to this recognition he became one of the most emblematic figures of photography in Mali, and in Africa.

All of the young people in his images lived through the period of growing independence and increasing cultural exchanges with the West through music and fashion. His images have inspired a lot of young artists who replicate and re-interpret the movements, the position of the characters in the studio, and the clothes worn in his pictures. His photographs are an exceptional testimony of the life of the young and vibrant generation of Bamakois in the ’60s.

The exhibition, Malick Sidibé: The Eye of Modern Mali, runs at Somerset House until 15 January 2017