The Thamesmead Youth
with George Plemper
Thamesmead has become a quiet and residential suburb of London, a distant memory from its early intentions to be the town of tomorrow. The first residents occupied the brutalist homes in 1968 - George Plemper moved in the 1970’s taking up a job as Head of Chemistry at the Riverside School. He felt lost in his role, trying to inspire a connection with students that hadn’t yet developed their identities, photography became the tool to engage.
Years later George’s photos recall a distant and more quiet time at school but echo a familiar feeling of trying to figure out the world all in a school day.
Interview by Esta Maffrett | 11.04.23
How did you get into photography and think about using it as a tool in your teaching?
The camera and my love of photography came into my life uninvited really. Before that I had no interest in photography other than having a little camera when I was a kid. When I became a teacher in the seventies all the visuals that you had were a piece of chalk and these things called banda sheets. I wanted something to communicate the lessons a bit better than the banda sheets with my bad handwriting on. I got the idea to use a camera to take pictures from the books and make slides so you could have a visually interesting lesson. Because I was a science teacher it felt natural to show the class a camera through the lens and the shutter and in doing that it was natural to take pictures of the children in the classroom. That was how it started, just wanting to be able to do something that was different, but the feedback I got was very positive from the parents and teachers. Because I was struggling as a teacher it was something that I could do where people responded positively.
Then after three years teaching in that school I thought I’d apply for a job as head of Chemistry in Riverside School Thamesmead which back then was an all ability school. Prior to the early seventies schools were about the three R’s; reading, writing and arithmetics. The idea that you would try and look out for the pupils' health and wellbeing was quite revolutionary, I said to the headmaster that it was part of our duty of care.
I would use photographs to help reinforce a pupil's sense of self. That was the intention, to say ‘look, you are wonderful, look what you can do, you have the world at your feet’. Anyone can say that to a kid but when you give them a proper picture as well and you can show them - it’s far better. Some teachers are great at talking to children but I was always quite shy and this was the only way I had to show them they were worthwhile. What I’ve come to realise is that I’m not a photographer, I was in a school teaching, people don’t want to hear that they tell me i’m a photographer because of the photos I took but I wasn’t I was a school teacher and photography was a tool.
Thamesmead is a very loaded place and I think that’s very present when you’re there. What was your experience of it?
Back then it was a much brighter place, it’s quite different now, the concrete has gotten darker and it’s become a bit too grim and dark because it hasn’t been invested in. Back then it was new, people were coming in from all over the place from the East End, the Docklands, Chile and Vietnam. So Thamesmead was always a complete mix and people accepted it, I wasn’t aware of any conflicts between the different cultures.
How did the kids find you taking their photos?
I can remember the first time we went out in the schoolyard and started taking pictures. The kids were asking ‘What’s going on sir?’ and you can see the doubts and skepticism when I take the picture and they watch it develop. But once you’ve shown them that you can show them anything because you’ve built the trust and broke through a barrier.
Sometimes I would give them the camera to take pictures but they weren’t always interested in that, they found the development interesting but they never really showed an awful lot of interest in learning about photography. In one of the pictures there is a Chinese lad who came from Hong Kong. I met him a few years ago and he could remember me showing them this twin lens reflex and pointing it in the opposite direction to reverse the image, he still remembered that.
Do you think the moments of self identity and empowerment came from taking the photos or giving the prints to the children?
I think young people want to be recognised. They need your attention and they want you to see them. So I think a lot of the time the kids want to see that you’re seeing them and they’re seeing themselves. Although you wouldn’t get a lot of feedback from the children I think you can see it in the photos. Lucia Tambini did a short film on Thamesmead and it featured some of the women who had grown up there. One of the women comes on the film and talks about being very sad and getting abused when she was young. I took this picture of her and it’s a beautiful picture but she looks quite sad and upset in it. I gave it to her and the time, low and behold she’s still got the photograph nearly 50 years later. So it obviously meant something to her and she said looking at the photograph now after all this time helped her come to terms with what was happening to her and revisit Thamesmead after leaving for so long.
"What I’ve come to realise is that I’m not a photographer, I was in a school teaching, people don’t want to hear that - they tell me i’m a photographer because of the photos I took but I wasn’t - I was a school teacher and photography was a tool."
Did you stay in touch with many of the students?
No I didn’t really. It was because of Flickr back in 2007 when it was generating a lot of interest, I worked with a technician who got my photographs on there. The first message I got was ‘Hello George, how are you?’ It was Norman, he still lives in Thamesmead and had contact with some people so they have been in touch. So I didn’t keep in touch deliberately but many of the people who were in the photographs have seen their photographs. They are living around the world.
One of the pictures you’ve got on your website is Sam, Ida & Eugene. Eugene is Turkish, Sam is Biafran and Ida is Nigerian - Eugene is a quite well known hair stylist, Ida is a pastor now, the head of a church in Tower Hamlets and Same tells me he’s got the biggest shopping mall in South Africa. They all went on to do different things.
Can you tell me about your exhibition Lost At School in 1979? Online you write that the title was about your own feelings but most people read it as you talking about the children.
It was at the London School of Education, off Russell Square, University of London. It’s a big building and the reason it was there was the Halfmoon Gallery wasn’t complete so they put it on there instead. Because it was called Lost At School the teachers were quite offended. Because you see that these children are lost but it was a shame because it wasn’t that. It was a personal exhibition.
I’m quite interested in Cave Art, the bits which really affect me most are the handprints in all different sizes, people making a record of themselves 30,000 years ago. And in the 17th century people used to keep written diaries of their daily lives. So this was my personal record of what it was like to be a schoolteacher in that case and these were the pupils that I taught and the people that I met. So it was like a visual statement but very personal.
The thing was there were rumours going around the school that somebody was going to attack the exhibition. That’s what the teachers were saying and I could overhear. I think it was the headmaster or headmistress who said that somebody had gone in and destroyed the pictures so people didn’t bother to go see it.
We recently exhibited some of his photos in our exhibition Grown up in Britain: 100 Years of Teenage Kicks at the Herbert Art Gallery & Museum in Coventry.
You can read more about George Plemper from the Thamesmead Community Archive.
