Remembering Edwin Adamson

It was while I was watching the Tokyo Olympics that I was reminded how transient achievements are. As I delved into ‘Olympic images’ in the collection of the National Gallery of Victoria I came across photographs by Edwin Adamson. Some creatives prove particularly elusive and this is definitely the case for photographer Edwin (Ted) George Adamson (1895-1974). Although there are 320 works in the NGV collection, there is a puzzling dearth of information about his life and times – despite being regarded as an important ‘documenter’ of life in Melbourne in the middle of the 20^th century.

He does not have a Wikipedia entry, there is no mention of him in ‘The Encyclopedia of Australian Art’, and he is not included among the eight Adamsons (ranging from a wheelwright to an orthodontist to headmistresses) in the ‘Australian Dictionary of Biography’.

Born in Melbourne, Adamson was an Associate of the Royal Photographic Society (A.R.P.S) as well as a judge for the Victorian Association of Photographic Societies (VAPS).  In 1920, Adamson established his first photographic studio and by the 1940s ran a well-known and well-respected studio initially at 169 and later at 229 Collins Street – a building whose tenants had included the Premier Building Society and the Women’s Political Association. Here, he listed among his clients, the State Electricity Commission, the Gas and Fuel Corporation and sections of the motor industry.

However, despite his diverse commercial clients, Adamson described his practice as specialising in ‘Portraits of Character’.

A number of these portraits are included in the NGV’s collection. Adamson has a clear ability to give an emotional reading of the sitter. His photograph of a ‘peek-a-boo’ woman smiling is engaging, beguiling and coquettish.

His pictures of young men in uniform, heading off to fight in the Second World War, remind us of the energy, dedication and optimism of youth – as well as making us wonder how and whether they survived the ordeal.

And his portrait of avuncular ‘Alec Isaacson’, lighting up a cigarette in his senior years, suggests that this was the same risk-taking person who was mentioned in the article ‘Motorist in Court’ (The Prahran Telegraph, January 1918) who was fined and had his licence suspended after driving recklessly down the wrong side of Fitzroy Street in St Kilda – ostensibly to avoid a tram!

It was not only people that Adamson could ‘personalise’. His ability to suggest the ‘of course I won’ cocksureness of a prize bull or the ‘I own this territory’ and clear dominance of lions, adds to our ability to connect with other animals.

Unsurprisingly, Adamson’s facility with portraiture resulted in a number of commissions for advertisements.

However, his great love was the world of human activity and, particularly, sport. Over the decades Adamson captured a range of sporting activities. The development of smaller portable cameras and faster film in the 1920s paved the way for Adamson’s instantaneous sports photography.

The images of motorbike racing, hunting, and polo provide dramatic and startling depictions of the imminent dangers in these endeavours.

The resolve of individuals is clear in both his 1920s dynamic depiction of motor racing and his 1926 photograph of prominent tennis player, James Willard, who is determinedly and balletically airborne as he competes in the Australian Open.

It was Adamson’s images of sport that led me to an examination of his photography as he appears to be the only photographer in the NGV collection to provide documentation of the 1956 Olympic Games in Melbourne.

From the ‘Aerial view of the opening ceremony…’ to glimpses inside the stadium, we get a sense of how important sporting events were and are at uniting the world and raising the collective spirit. They still provide a sense of optimism and hope in these bleak pandemic days despite the absence of spectators in the stadia.

We can also see the intensity of participation in Adamson’s capture of athletic events and recognise the commitment that underpins competition.

Appropriately, given Australia’s swimming ability, there are some images of the recently completed modernist Olympic Pool – a reminder of Adamson’s interest in and deft hand with architectural photography.

Adamson’s NGV photographs were a gift to the institution from his son Edwin ‘Ed’ junior in 1982. The gift includes portraits of Edwin as a youngster …

… as well as pictures of the family’s farm ‘Mürren’ in Mirimbah near Mt. Buller.

It appears that Ed is still on the family property near Mt Buller. Three years ago, on ABC Radio, he recalled a near drowning incident in the dam on the farm. Aged 11 years, Ed fell into the water and was rescued by a young lad, Arthur Franks, who his family had invited to spend the Christmas holidays in the country. According to Ed: Franks was “one of those English kids who came out for a better life in Australia … and ended up in a boys home”. Ed had not seen Franks for more than six decades but the radio interview reunited the pair within less than 24 hours!

Franks’ holiday contact with the Adamson family influenced his later career choice.  Ed’s father gave Franks his first box of watercolour paints which led to an interest in art.  Ultimately, Franks practised and taught photography at TAFE.

In 2004, Adamson was part of an NGV photographic exhibition – Good Looking: Narrative Photographs Past and Present – which examined a range of ‘picture-telling’ styles across 125 years of Australian photography from the 1870s to the 1990s. There are still more than 200 of Adamson’s images to be uploaded in the NGV collection and I am looking forward to seeing them as a reminder of where we have come from and of the person who clearly enjoyed documenting the many and varied events of his time.