Landscape DNA: The Work of Peter Cattrell
By Brynn Gordon
“I think landscape work is in your blood or DNA”.
Peter Cattrell’s childhood of ambling and hillwalking around his hometown of Edinburgh must have predisposed him to be interested in the natural world, and in how a story can be told through the land. Born in Glasgow in 1959, Cattrell grew up in Edinburgh in an artistic family of professional and amateur painters. Despite having a childhood interest in photography, he was initially unsure whether to pursue it, reading history at St. Andrews before taking photography at the London Printing College in 1979. After graduating, Cattrell was based primarily in England where he did magazine work and was shown in exhibitions across the United Kingdom, which resulted in him spending lots of time driving down country lanes in his sister’s car to get from one location to another. Moved by the beauty of the English landscape, and childhood memories of Scottish hillwalking, he began photographing the vignettes he passed. In this way the “landscape work…(in his) blood” set to work, and he became primarily a landscape photographer.
Cattrell’s photography is crystal clear, with rich tonal variety and little evidence of human life. The aesthetic of his silver gelatin prints could be described as pared-back or reserved, in stark contrast with the poignant moods his carefully developed scenes evoke. By giving a singular bush or mountain prominence in the composition, rather than capturing a grand, sweeping vista, Cattrell is able to better capture minor details of texture and form. He creates a uniquely intimate connection between the viewer and the land depicted, as though they are experiencing what he experienced when taking the photo.
Peter Cattrell, Fields Near Smailiholm Town, Borders, Scotland, 1998. Silver Gelatine Print, 36.60 x 45.50 centimetres.
Peter Cattrell, Mull from Iona Cathedral, Scotland, 1996. Silver Gelatine Print, 36.60 x 45 centimetres.
Cattrell stated in an interview with Efton that he enjoys breaking pictorial conventions; he likes to include abstractions in the foreground or background, to eliminate the sky from the composition, to frame pieces in unusual ways and priorities explorations of depth and texture over that of a “traditional” composition. This penchant for experimentation within the landscape genre can be linked to Scottish post-war art Cattrell saw in his youth. The unconventional framing and dramatic use of texture and light can be traced to the work of Willian Gillies, and Joan Eardley’s studies of Catterline in Kincardine. Eardley’s balance in these pieces between depictions of wild seas and theatrical brush-strokes with a tightly controlled composition and colour-palate, manifest in Cattrell’s photography. In this way, he is able to capture his feeling and impressions of standing in a three-dimensional space in the two-dimensional.
Joan Eardley, The Wave, 1961. Oil and Grit on Hardboard, 121.90 x 188 centimetres.
Contrasting with the experimental aspects of his work, Cattrell is also a keen subscriber of Ansel Adams’ “Zone System”. Designed to teach students a standardized theory of photo development, the Zone System requires a photographer to first identity the range of brightness in a scene he is interested in. He must then divide that range into up to nine “Zones” that will be developed and exposed differently depending on their intended brightness or darkness. While this is automated on digital cameras with the “Spot metre function”, in the 1970s and 1980s Cattrell would have used handheld meters, and had to pre-plan zones while taking the photo. Despite the intense technical focus and the slow developing process, the “Zone System” gives Cattrell’s work a sense of clarity and depth. By pairing his atmospheric and painterly elements with a hyper-accurate manifestation of depth and light, Cattrell creates a measured meditation on the beauty of the British landscape.
An image from Minor White's development of Ansel Adams' work on the Zone System, 1955. As seen in “The Zone System Of Planned Photography.” Aperture 3, no. 1 9.
Having now established his techniques and influences, the inspiration for Cattrell’s photography is often simpler than his techniques or post-war landscapes. His core inspiration is the personal connections he makes with a location, either through familial or childhood connection, a historical or literary interest. This can be seen clearly in his 1986 work Fenced-In-Gully, Moorfoot Hills, Scotland; the Moorfoot hills near Edinburgh and would not be too far from the hills Cattrell hiked on in childhood. 1987’s Shot Crow, Lothians is taken in a county hugely significant in Scottish history. 1996’s Mull from Iona Cathedral, Scotland was executed to commemorate the passing of a friend who lived on Iona.
Peter Cattrell, Fenced-In-Gully, Moorfoot Hills, Scotland, 1986. Silver Gelatine Print, 26.50 x 26.50 centimetres.
Peter Cattrell, Shot Crow, Midlothians, 1987. Silver Gelatine Print, 26.50 x 26.50 centimetres.
In these scenes, Cattrell’s apparent disinterest in humans is shown to be superficial. While Cattrell includes no human figures in his photographs, the landscapes themselves are impacted by the humans that inhabit them. The crow in Shot Crow, Midlothians did not shoot itself, and the area around the gully in the Moorfoot hills has been fenced off by farmers to protect their sheep. Cattrell’s focus on man’s manipulation of the natural world adds another dimension to his landscape photography, turning each area he photographs into a kind of portrait, through their impact on their surroundings.
This idea of the landscape as a record and a portrait is elevated in Cattrell’s series “The Front Line”. Starting in 1989, he began photographing the modern-day locations of the battle of the Somme to honor his Uncle, William Wyatt Bagshawe, who died in the conflict. Cattrell highlights the shocking mundanity of these sites, mostly given over to agriculture, revealing the subtle ways 300,000 dead can change a landscape. In Lines of Stubble near Sunken Lane, Beaumont Hamel, the endless lines of cut-down stalks speak to enormous fatalities encored over the campaign, visually harking back to military cemeteries in Flanders or Cambridge. The series offers a haunting look at not just Bagshawe’s story, but the story of the campaign itself, and the way a landscape can remember what fades out of living memory.
Peter Cattrell, Lines of Stubble near Sunken Lane, Beaumont Hotel, 2000. Silver Gelatine Print, 36.5 x 45 centimetres.
Peter Cattrell, Avenue of Trees at Newfoundland Park, 2000. Silver Gelatine Print, 36.5 x 45 centimetres.
Peter Cattrell, Front Line Trenches, Newfoundland Park, Somme, France, 2000. Silver Gelatine Print, 26.70 x 32.80 centimetres.
Peter Cattrell certainly does have landscape work in his DNA. He can be credited with continuing the Scottish landscape tradition through photography, with a romantic respect for the genre that is tempered with an irreverence that is typical of the 20th and 21st centuries. His innate understanding of both people and their surroundings allows him to blend creativity and constraint, landscape and portrait, creating a truly unique body of work.
Bibliography
Cattrell, Peter. “Echoes of the Great War: In Homage to my Uncle William Wyatt Bagshawe.” By Charlotte Parkin. (January 2021). https://www.onlandscape.co.uk/2021/01/echoes-of-the-great-war/
Cattrell, Peter. “Peter Cattrell in Conversation with Pete Davis Machylleth, September 2019.” By Pete Davis Machylleth. Ffton (November 2019). https://www.ffoton.wales/interviews/2019/11/peter-cattrell
National Galleries Scotland, Joan Earley, https://www.nationalgalleries.org/art-and-artists/features/joan-eardley. (18 October 2022)
White, Minor. “The Zone System Of Planned Photogtsphy.” Aperture 3, no. 1 [9] (1955): 15–30. http://www.jstor.org/stable/44405173.