Book Review: ‘Death of a Polaroid: A Manics Family Album’, by Nicky Wire

Nicky Wire (Manic Street Preachers) has released Death of a Polaroid: A Manics Family Album on Faber & Faber in November, 2011. Also released in a super-limited edition (50 copies) that included a signed polaroid from Nicky and a slipcover. The first of Wire’s two planned releases for Faber & Faber (the second one not yet announced), Death of a Polaroid is a 304 page, 4-pound tome and thus as impressive, though awkward to haul around, as noted Manics photographer Mitch Ikeda’s Forever Delayed (2002), the only other previous “official” photo book release. Ikeda’s polaroids and photos donated by a variety of other band photographers appear along with Wire’s, documenting the group in 500+ photos from their early days to the Postcards from a Young Man era.

Death of a Polaroid opens with a forward from Nicky, which of course wouldn’t be complete without slagging off some components of the digital era: “We live in an age now where anything can be retouched or remixed; where Photoshop or Pro Tools can fix everything that wasn’t quite right on the day, where you can buy an app for your phone that can replicate any photo style you want at that time; where, basically, you can cheat at anything.” Although at first glance this may seem to be his usual hand-wringing disdain for modern tech, it is accompanied by a respect for the Polaroid as “a truly honest format.” This book is both a chronicle of Manics history as well as a loving tribute to the Polaroid as a creative outlet and how meaningful it has been for Wire.

A revealing interview and conversation conducted by Robin Turner between Wire and Jeremy Deller (The Uses of Literacy, a Manics-inspired-art collection, 1999) follows the forward, covering topics from Deller’s exhibit, the digital era’s effect on art work, folk art, the roots of Wire’s fondness for Polaroids, to the Miner’s Strike as an influence.

The Polaroids themselves are one, two, sometimes four to a page (and, sometimes though rarely, spanning across two pages or covering a full page). Although the book could’ve probably been cut down by about half its size if space had been used more effectively, the stark arrangement of photos on the ‘plates’ throughout the book might in some cases be more effective than if the whole book had included four pictures to a page. The first set of Polaroids are test shots from photographers (“I always kept them as mementos ever since, always thinking that someday they’d be good to link together somehow”) and showcase many moments recognizable to Manics fans, albeit with some unseen shots. [See also the Guardian for sample photos from the book]

Ikeda’s Polaroids from 1998 through 2001 follow, many of which are of some truly beautiful landscapes and candid shots of the band members. Wire, in the commentary at the back of the book: “Mitch’s photos achieve a very real intimacy. I can’t think of anyone else that we would have allowed into our headspace for so long and let become so involved. I think he thought of each shot - however abstract - as being as important as a posed band shot.” Some of Ikeda’s shots are indeed rather abstract and artistic, my favorite pairs being 139/140 (“If You Tolerate…”/”Modern Lovers”), 117/118 (“Beautiful-Silent”/”Lots Water”), and 226/227 (“J.D.B. Hand+Tea”/”Oranges”). There is a permeating feeling of both happy times and melancholy nostalgia throughout Ikeda’s Polaroids, which very much matches Wire’s own aesthetic sensibilities. Wire: “Mitch’s collected Polaroids are a magnificent body of work. They’re entirely different from the work collected in his Forever Delayed book (which I also absolutely love). The intimacy he achieves here…truly these pictures are captured memories.”

Wire’s own photos appear in the final section. Some of these have been previously seen in the Journal for Plague Lovers gallery at the Manic Street Preachers website, which was initially my own introduction to his Polaroids as a new Manics fan in 2009. These have been marked up with words and stickers, along with his series for his solo album I Killzed the Zeitgeist. Other Polaroids here include conceptual photos described with Manics song titles, a healthy portion of nature photographs, band shots, and shots of his collages and inspirational photos of other musicians and imagery. Wire’s personality really comes through in many of these pictures, and his accompanying commentary: “One of the revealing things about the last section - which is the world seen through my amateur eye - is the insight into how the format itself inspires me lyrically…The more I look at my pictures collected in this last section, the more I think I’m giving away…there are so many memories embedded in the pictures, mental snapshots of specific times and places, intimate moments and faded recollections.” Favorites of mine in this section include “Nobody Loved you” (400), the black and white polaroid shots (405 through 408, 506-509), some vibrantly colorful shots of trees in different landscapes (483-490), “Everlasting” (541), and certainly the Journal For Plague Lovers and I Killed the Zeitgeist series.

After completing the book, I have looked through it again many times. I was at first surprised at myself for being as compelled by the shots of nature as I have been, since my initial impetus in buying the book was for the band photos (and, as any hardcore Manics fan will tell you, unseen band photos, particularly from earlier eras, are our bread and butter). I felt as though I got to know a little better how creative arts outside of music have had an influence on the Manic Street Preachers in general and Wire in particular.

They have never been a band that was shy about their own influences (check out Manics.nl: The Annotated MSP for more on this), but outlets of their own outside of music have only been seen in rare glimpses until now -I still remain curious about Wire’s work in poetry and painting (potential subject matter for his next Faber & Faber release, perhaps). Death of a Polaroid’s downsides are that it runs the risk of coming across as over indulgent through its size and sparse arrangement and that, as you may expect, not all of the pictures are winners, but this is not the point: it captures Wire’s aesthetic just about as well as his own lyrics. He is revealed as more human and less of a distant icon through his own lens and that of Ikeda’s (upon seeing this, it is no wonder that Ikeda has been a longtime Manics photographer standby). The textual content is an excellent supplement as well. Recommended!