Oysters, tinnies and everything in between

Tim Adams

Editor, New Review

Oysters, tinnies and everything in between

Sophie Green’s images of the British seaside portray not an island of strangers but of people from different walks of life having fun in the sun

Sophie Green started taking pictures of seaside Britain in 2020, just as the first pandemic lockdown eased. It was partly a question of necessity; the two documentary projects she had been working on – one about church congregations and the other about the culture of stock car and banger racing – remained off limits.

But what began as an urgency to keep working, has become a new kind of obsession for her. She has spent the past five summers with her camera touring the British coast from Southend to Weston-super-Mare, Skegness to Blackpool.

What keeps her coming back, she suggests, is something like a democracy of fun. The prime minister, and the strident voices of populism, might want to advance the idea that we are becoming “an island of strangers”, but Green’s pictures insist on a different story.

“I’ve always thought that British beaches are interesting social spaces,” she says, “because you find all communities sat shoulder to shoulder. It’s one of those rare places these days where people are happy and able to drop their guard. There is a sense of freedom and escape. And unlike in everyday life, for once everyone is there with the same agenda: to be there with their loved ones and be outside in the sun.”

Some of her pictures are alive to class differences: “You see gentrification in Margate, for example,” she says, “which now has fancy restaurants and wine bars. That is a very different experience to, say, Skegness.”

Fair Ride Twins, Weston Super Mare, 2021

I’m interested in how different groups find their place in this country

Occasionally she has photographed some people drinking champagne and eating oysters while others are having a hot dog and a tinny, “but generally the British seaside is a fairly democratic place”.

Her pictures remind you that coastal resorts remain fuelled by nostalgia and a sense of performance. Some images – the girl at New Brighton beach with the coiled stash of tickets to be redeemed for tacky arcade prizes – could have come from almost any decade in the past 50 years; others seem more of the present moment. “When I saw the girl with the amazing nails,” Green says, “I was mostly fascinated by how she could still put her lip gloss on.”

Cobi and Karlos, Clacton-on-Sea, 2020

Since she first picked up a camera aged 16, nearly 20 years ago, Green has been curious about the many faces that represent Britishness. “The theme of my work has always been belonging,” she says. “I’m interested in how different groups find their place in this country.”

The seaside postcard colours of funfairs and arcades in some ways offer the perfect backdrop to that quest. You can taste the candyfloss and salty chips, and smell the fairground diesel in her images, but her cast of characters rarely fits that childhood caricature.

Unlike the sunburned extremes made famous in Martin Parr’s pictures, the portraits Green makes suggest holidaymakers at ease with their days in the sun. “You see a lot of moments of communion or togetherness on beaches,” she says, “and when I see groups or individuals that seem to express those values, that is what I am drawn to.”