Capturing work in progress

The human face of Newby Hall is elusive in a photographic essay of working life at the stately home. John Woodcock finds out why.

Many hands make a stately home run smoothly, and in paying tribute to them you won't find many faces in the photographs of Tessa Bunney. Partly it's because several of the staff at Newby Hall near Ripon didn't want to deflect attention from the house or its gardens. Their reluctance to pose for the camera was a way of saying that the 21st century norm of self-promotion doesn't fit well with employment at an 18th century masterpiece. It isn't a case of knowing their place, rather of knowing that the place is more important than themselves.

Bunney understood that, but it made for a tricky assignment. She explained: "There was a reluctance among some of the workforce to be the centre of attention. They work away from the public's gaze. They like that and want to stay in the shadows. Sharing the limelight is not for them. Many have been there for years and wanted me to focus on what their job represents to the overall benefit of the house and its surroundings.

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"For instance, some of the gardeners regard the trusted old tools they use as more important than anything. They talk of them being moulded to their hands, so I took shots to reflect that."

Bunney spent most of last year with her Hasselblad camera photographing behind the scenes at Newby Hall which was built under the guidance of Sir Christopher Wren and with much of the later interior designed by Robert Adam.

It was one of the collaborations of a programme called Inspired by Heritage, part of an initiative to support new work by North Yorkshire artists working at inspirational sites. The others were Malham Tarn, Studley Royal Water Garden, Rosedale on the North York Moors, and the Royal Pump Room Museum in Harrogate. The experience is being reflected through textile and glass design, sculpture and paintings, and by Bunney's photographs.

She's a middle-aged mother based at Kilburn near Thirsk. Her previous work has included recording villagers and nomadic shepherds in Romania's Carpathian Mountains and a study of domestic labour in Vietnam – both of which could not be more remote from life in an English country house with its sumptuous Regency, Chippendale, Gobelins tapestries and numerous other examples of fine art.

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For all the grandeur, Bunney wanted to avoid guide-book type pictures and concentrate on the daily routine behind the glossy presentation. She photographed chores and major tasks at the hall and around the grounds and woodland walks during the off-season, and how the emphasis changes when the visitors return and the workforce increases ten-fold to about 400.

It meant that her project was all-embracing and involved numerous visits. She caught the gamekeeper and the vermin controller at work, maintenance, kitchen and caf staff, housekeepers, gardeners, the driver of the miniature train, a house guide, and aspects of spring-cleaning. Renewing the sparkle of a heavyweight chandelier takes some doing. Likewise, symbolising the process when the cleaner is reluctant to be included was a challenge. Where necessary a carefully-constructed pose would spare their embarrassment, and sometimes any hint of identification was eliminated.

Bunney often had to steer a fine line between documenting the scenes she wanted and being unobtrusive. "Not easy when you're working with a big, noisy camera. I was striving for something that was never intended to be a collection of pretty pictures. Some people might be disappointed not to see more faces in them. That's in part a reflection of attitudes and feelings there. It's for others to judge the outcome."

She's called it House, Garden, Estate – a matter-of-fact glimpse of what's done to maintain and manage impressive history, set in 40 acres, before the public views the end result. One shot in particular captures the reality. It shows a piece in the Sculpture Park wrapped in a plastic bin-liner to protect it from the frost.

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Bunney also wanted to illustrate how Newby's famous gardens are integrated with activities in the house. As an example she photographed the progression of dahlias through the seasons. They are seen being planted, nurtured, blooming and finally taking their bow in a floral display.

When the proposal for her concept was accepted it was agreed with the house's owners, Richard and Lucinda Compton – his family has lived at Newby Hall since 1748 – that whatever Bunney's frustrations, she had to work with the staff on their terms.

"There was never any suggestion that employees would have to co-operate with me for the sake of the house's image. The decision was left to individuals. Their response was complicated, but then a stately home is a complex environment. I learned that. The owners are privileged to live in such an amazing place.

"But also there's a responsibility and commercial pressure to share that history and to sacrifice privacy to a large extent. It means compromise. There are all kinds of issues, such as security, the tensions of workplace relationships and conflicting ideas, which are not appreciated until you begin to see the situation from within.

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"I often wondered how I'd react to having so many people involved in the upkeep of my own home, or thousands of strangers wandering around it. I'm sure there'd be times when I'd want to close the doors to everyone except the family."

YP MAG 15/5/10

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