In 1855, Roger Fenton arrived in the Crimea on a commission from publisher Thomas Agnew & Sons to photograph scenes and figures from the ongoing Crimean War. After he returned to London, the images were exhibited at four venues in the capital and… that was it.
There hasn’t been a London show of Fenton’s creations since 1856. That’s a shame because, as this small show at the Queen’s Gallery proves, the series is a fascinating early example of what we now call war photography.
The show also creates an interesting contrast with the main exhibition running in tandem, ‘Russia, Royalty & the Romanovs’. While the larger rooms are filled with the ceremonial knick-knacks and portraiture characterising good times shared by the British and Russian royal families, the smaller display hints at a more tense relationship between the nations.
It also gives a taste of the reality that went with putting on a heroic-looking uniform, adorning it with sashes and medals and charging off into battle. Unlike with modern photographs taken in conflict zones – for example Nick Ut’s famous shot of a young girl covered in napalm in the Vietnam War – Fenton doesn’t capture any blood, guts or graphic suffering. Instead, the Crimean photos are remarkable for pinpointing the chilling loneliness of war. Against the desolate horizon, the groups of uniformed men look tiny toy soldiers all waiting for something to happen. Often, you have to look closely to understand what Fenton is showing: the rolling eyes of a shell-shocked soldier, the post-battle littering of cannon balls and, eventually, a line of headstones