A friend showed me how to make a pinhole camera last week, with which I took the following two pictures from the roof of the shopping centre in Chelmsford.
Some of the dirt on the pictures is a combination of getting the pictures grubby in my bag and also dirt on my scanner, which I had neglected to clean, causing further grubbiness on the pictures. The big black marks on the bottom of the first one were where I’d taped the photographic paper to the back of the box.
These are some photos of my nan, Marguerite Wilthew (and later Marguerite Guy), from when she was growing up in France in the 1920s and 30s. The photos were taken by her brother, Guy Wilthew, at least as far as I know.
She was born in Le Faouet in Brittany in northwest France, before moving to Vannes when she was about ten. I don’t know exactly where these photos were taken, but they’ll mostly be from that region of France.
My nan’s father was the painter Guy Wilthew (his first name was pronounced in the english fway, while his son’s was pronounced in the french). There’s a little more about their family history here. The woman who appears with my nan in a number of these pictures is her sister, Armelle.
We found an old roll of film in the loft and these were all that were on it. It is basically the most accurate representation of my childhood I could possibly hope to have. I think the photographer was almost certainly me, except in the ones where I appear, when it probably would have been my little brother, who was obviously my artistic equal. They are shown here in order of quality.
My sister and my little brother, by a tree.
My sister, by our tent.
My dad punting along the river in Cambridge. Also shown: the back of my head, my older brother’s face.
Our garden. (front row, left to right) unidentified, unidentified, my older brother (back row) unidentified
Me, by our tent. Also shown: a shower cap.
My sister by our tent, with a lilo.
My sister, in Cambridge, by a road.
My little brother, clearly dealing drugs out of the back of the car.
Terrifying bedroom.
Unidentified hair/fur.
A glimpse of hell.
And that was all that the chemists would dare print.