Richard Billingham’s ‘ray’s a laugh’ is one of those photobooks that I always heard about and never thought I’d see, so when Mack announced a new printing, I jumped on it.
Due to some blood and family violence, I put the unboxing behind an age filter. Apologies.
I first heard of ‘ray’ 12 or 14 years ago. I remember it being described as a moving and poignant portrait of Billingham’s family life in the lower, working classes of British society. More recently, I seem to recall some portions of the Photo cognoscenti moving towards condemnation, describing the photographs themselves as violence and talking in terms of harm to the viewer and society at large. (I’m not linking to anyone in particular here; maybe my memory is faulty; maybe the pro critics are more sensitive or knowledgeable than me.)
So… Let’s look at ‘ray’ in three ways: 1) this is real life; 2) “there but for fortune;” 3) photography is violence.
Ray, Billingham’s dad I guess, looks like a fairly normal guy, if a bit of a drunk. Billingham’s mom and brother look fairly normal too: the mother seems maybe as violent sober as the dad is when he’s drunk; the brother seems like a fairly ordinary young 20-something. They seem to live in a rather modest council estate, with some pets and the trappings and tchotchkes of a life lived in pretty much the same place for a long time. They might be a bit lower class, but so what and who am I to judge? They’re a more or less functional family, and the parents are together, for better or worse.
Bellingham’s shows us all this unvarnished. He’s not candy-coating, and he shows the good as well as the bad. That is, it’s not all bad. There is tenderness and compassion alongside the drunken rages. The pet cat looks as calm and excitable as most cats, even when flying through the air. The family eats, watches tv, lounges around, chats and argues. As unlike my own life as it is—they’re lower class Brits in the late 80s; I’m an American who was a tweenager when the photographs where made and in a comfortable middle class, mostly drama-free Muslim household in the mid 2020s—it just is real life.
And, as with other lives around the world and throughout history, I am where I am only by the grace and mercy of God. If I had different parents, different opportunities—and, given that I’m in America, I had somewhat different opportunities than Brits—was born in a different time or at a different place, my life might be much the same as Ray’s (or his sons’). Can you say anything different? Am I so much better than Ray? Maybe you are, and no question; I’m not too sure about me. And still.
I rarely stop to wonder how things might have been different if I had done something different or if I refrained from doing something. Thinking like that doesn’t do anyone much good: life is an accumulation of choices, year by year, day by day, minute by minute, and what good is it to worry about las week? Looking at things like ‘ray’ remind me of how good I’ve got it at the moment (all praise and thanks be to God), and how it might be different tomorrow or next year. Critics that see some thing different there, something worth condemning, well, maybe Ray and his family were condemnable; maybe Billingham is too.
After all, photography is violence. My cute little niece is 5. I started making photographs of her when she was less than a day old. She is the girliest little girl I’ve ever seen and she learned what a camera was and how to pose when she was barely able to walk. What kind of life might she have had without cameras constantly pointing at her? She’d likely still be a super girly little girl; she might still learn how to make herself cuter by will. And is there any doubt that the constant shutter clicks, both actual and simulated, shaped her in some measurable and obvious way?
Violence, indeed.
Now, were Ray and Mom and little brother willing participants, posing for the camera? Was Billingham shooting from under his coat or jumper, with his family unaware? Some of the pictures indicate awareness of the camera and/or the photographer; in others, the subjects are comatose or not paying any active attention. And still, the photographs froze them in time, into a book, and they’re now in a second, expanded edition. I wonder how they feel about it, if they’re still around. Would I want my darling wife’s sons airing our dirty laundry in public via a well known photobook? Eh. Aside from such a book being rather boring, I should think, with no one flinging cats about or starting fights or passing out next to a filthy toilet, neither of them seem to have much interest in photography, not of the “moving family portrait” type anyway. They’re the ones that get embarrassed by me constantly waving cameras about. They’re the ones that need to worry about being immortalized in a moving family portrait-type photobook.
So… ‘ray’s a laugh.’ I’m glad to have a copy. I love the small, cheap film and bargain bin camera aesthetic, and I’m a fan of diaristic sorts of work like this. I don’t know what the first printing is like, but the Mack reprint is large and heavy and a good read.
| Concept | |
| Content | |
| Design |
Overall, the new ‘ray’ is a 4 star laugh.
At time of writing, ‘ray’s a laugh’ remains available direct from Mack. Is it worth the asking price? Maybe. If, like me, you like the cheap camera, indoor flash, color film aesthetic and don’t take yourself too seriously, maybe. If you want to point fingers and all, remember that there are always three pointing back at you and your money is yours to spend however you like. If I buy books to trash talk—and I have, indeed—I rarely spend more than a tenner at the used book store, and you do you.
Edit: in writing this, I forgot that I bought the package with the signed copy and the ray’s a laugh reader…. I haven’t read the reader yet. I forgot I had it. Maybe I should take a look…
3 days later…
I read through ‘ray’s a laugh: a reader.’ The book includes a handful of Interviews, a few Essays, and an Afterword, organized by publication date, punctuated by some of the more famous images from the book. Liz Jobey edited the volume and provides an introductory, mostly biographical essay, and I expected to find somewhat more whinging and hand wringing than I did. Most of the vitriol came from one of Billingham’s early champions, who felt unfairly pushed aside as the young art star’s fame rose, and I remember seeing only one mention of Sontag.
Interesting, and maybe I misremember the more contemporary vitriol against it? Eh. It doesn’t matter. I’m happy with what I wrote above and so let’s push the Publish (or Schedule) button.
I’m glad I picked up the reader, as it gave me some more insight into the history of the work. Simultaneously, I sort wish I hadn’t remembered it, hadn’t seen it on the shelf, as reading all the history pushed me to track down and buy a really beat up copy of the Scalo first edition. smh and may Allah forgive me, show me mercy, and guide me to better, amen. (Unboxing and review forthcoming… probably many months from now.)
Should you spend upwards of 90 or 100 for a signed copy of the book and a copy of the reader? In 2025? You do you, and while ‘ray’ is a do not miss, wildly important and influential photobook, maybe you can give the reader a pass. Maybe.
