Tag Archives: Jed Novick

50 Plus… and a chance meeting by David Collyer

I spent my teenage years in the South West of Surrey, pretty much equidistant between London and Brighton, and it was always one of those two places that called my friends and I when we needed a touch of metropolitan sophistication, or of course to strengthen our wardrobes. In my early twenties, London won and I moved there, the bright lights of the Big Smoke pulling me away from my leafy childhood home.

Brighton, however, always felt like a magical place. I visited often. My younger brother, a musician, moved there, and as many a musician does ended up working a side hustle. In his case, the cook in Hotel Pelirocco. I’d been an early 1980s mod revivalist, and of course with thoughts of Quadrophenia in mind, Brighton always felt like a pilgrimage.

Scroll forward almost 40 years and I’m now living in rural South Wales, dividing my work life between the NHS and as a photographer. Having not visited Brighton in almost twenty years, my partner and I decided to take a city break, staying in an AirBnB off Marine Parade, and catching up with one of my old London friends who has long since made the city his home. After a very pleasant meal my partner and I were strolling through The Lanes as the last light was fading, when I spotted a very dapper man in double-breasted cream linen suit, correspondent shoes, a wide brimmed hat at a rakish angle, and standout silver jewellery. I had a 1959 Leica M3 camera slung around my neck, and two frames left on a roll of black and white film. I had to photograph this man, although with the light quickly diminishing, it was touch and go whether any frame would be useable.

In 2017 when I turned 50, I started shooting a project called 50 Plus… The generation that didn’t have to grow up. It examines my generation of men and explores the freedoms that we have which weren’t available to our fathers’ generation. We are at liberty to cling on to our teenage subcultures and styles well into and beyond middle age. Always obsessed with clothes and music, I still consider myself a modernist. Since my initial re-visit to Brighton I’ve been back a handful of times. In 2023 I photographed the Mod Weekender for Detail Magazine, and as a result came away with a yearning to buy a scooter again, which I did, and it’s been ridden to Brighton a couple of times since. In many ways the photographic project was autobiographical. I have the luxury of holding down professional jobs whilst also indulging my inner teenage rebel. 

50 Plus… grew and grew, and on my 58th birthday in June, it was released by specialist documentary photography publisher Fistful of Books. I start the book with these words:

“As growing old is a privilege, so too is it a privilege of youth to rebel against the elder generation. Unlike when we were young, however, how do you shock the generation who have spent their lives rebelling? I’ve often said to my boys that the only way they could shock me is by playing golf and voting Conservative. Thankfully, as far as I’m aware, neither has experimented with such depravity!…

In the woods behind my house were the rusting remains of a Morris Oxford, and minus its wheels, the monocoque body of a long-trashed Vespa scooter. I used to sit on said scooter, and imagine I was riding to Brighton with my school’s equivalent of Jimmy the Mod’s on/off girlfriend Steph on the pillion. It’s safe to say, I wasn’t the Ace Face!”

50 Plus… is a hardback containing 84 portraits, over 156 pages. There is an essay by myself, a preface by an ex-pat British journalist now living and working in California, who published some of the photos in a magazine in 2022, and although the vast majority of portraits are anonymous, twelve of the men have been kind enough to write a testimony about themselves.

Fortunately the two shots of the dapper gent in The Lanes worked out, and he is one of those who kindly agreed to contribute. If you’re asking yourself why you are reading this in The West Hill Whistler, and you’ve not yet worked it out, that man was Jed Novick, editor of the title, and we’ve since become friends. Last time we met up we enjoyed a good Mexican meal and Margueritas on an early summer evening. Jed and Mike Baller who I photographed on a subsequent visit to Brighton are pictured here.

The book is available from the publisher Fistful of Books, or I have some copies for sale at £30 plus postage. Contact me through my website 

The Whistler – December 2020

It’s officially winter. The nights have closed in, the straw hat is back in it box and coats are the season’s must-have accessory. Still, we’re out of lockdown and we’re allowed out. Remember that? Out? And if we’ve got to have a substantial meal, well that’s OK too. Lockdown’s had its moments. We’ve met people, well we’ve seen people on small screens, and as long as the West Hill quiz keeps going, so will we (even though we were robbed at the last quiz, positively robbed. Who knew what a Star bar looked like?). 

But remember, if things are hard, if you have trouble getting out and about, Lovely Vinod at Bright News is doing deliveries and helping those who need it. It’s what community’s for. 

Finally, a quick word about us going all 21st century – the website’s got a new look, there’s a new Instagram (@westhillwhistler) and Twitter (@WestHillWhistle) and a re-vamped Facbook page. You can probably guess what that’s called. It’s all very exciting.

And, as always, if you’ve got something to say, drop us a line. Join in. Life’s better that way. 

Merry Xmas / New Year. See you on the other side.

 XXX 

A Biba-esque emporium

An Aladdin’s Cave where Frida Kahlo sits next to beautiful vintage kimonos while Tintin and Buddha look on. Jed Novick goes in search of the Objet D’ials

I want people to feel that they’ve disconnected with the outside world and engaged with the shop when they’ve walked through the door.”

Karin Pratt is putting the finishing touches to Objet D’ials, her new art emporium. She’s at that lovely point – halfway between excited and exhausted, and I just asked her the stupidest question. What are you selling here? It all looks like Aladdin’s Cave here. Look around and… there’s Mexican the window, a row of beautiful Japanese kimonos, a Buddha, a bit of Frida Kahlo, vintage books, art, Tintin, a red velvet sofa… Everywhere your eye lands, there’s something for it to feast on.   

“When people walk in and look around, I want them to feel like they’ve gone on a journey,” says Karin. “I want people to engage with the shop. You know how many shops you walk in and then walk out, as an experience it leaves you empty. I want people to come in here – even if they don’t buy anything – I want them to feel they’ve disconnected with the outside world.”

Pushed for a description, Karin says “I want it to be an all-encompassing Biba-esque experience.” And if you’re going to have an aspiration, that’s not a bad one. 

“You just browse. There’s a café – but only a small percentage of our life is as a café. We’re going down the cafetiere or pot of tea route. We’re not doing takeaway or trying to be a café. The shop is artisan and in the summer there’ll be tables and chairs outside.” 

So let’s go back to the beginning. Who are you and how did you get here? “We live next door and this shop used to be the garage for the house. My husband has looked into the history of the house and has always wanted to put it back together, to bring it back. I’ve worked in shops (and the oil industry, and tourism and hotels…) but I’d never had a shop. I had a feeling it was going to come on the market and one day we were sitting in the garden and a friend said ‘Come here, there’s a guy in the street with a clipboard outside the shop.’ 

And you ran outside and said “Stop!”? 

“More or less.”

To anyone opening a shop in 2020, it’s the obvious question to ask, so let’s just ask it. You’re setting up a new shop from scratch, how much of a nuisance has lockdown been? “Not really that much of a problem because I knew it was coming. We’ve had a four-week turnaround – we bought it at the end of November and…” 

Hang about. Stop. You only got hold of this at the end of October? 

“Yes, the 23rd. We came straight in after getting the key and started with the paint…” 

That’s just… That’s amazing. 

“Was it longer? I’m so tired… It’s gone really quickly, I know that.” 

While it’s Karin’s shop, Karin’s idea, Karin’s dream, she’s very keen to support Sussex based suppliers for my local goods. “The idea of helping and promoting local produce and business is really important. We’re very lucky to have a shop and while it’s OK to be online, if you can have somewhere to show your goods, that can make all the difference.”

So you’ve got? 

“Well, we sell Craft House Coffee, which is based in Wivelsfield. There’s Katie’s Nuttery, who do all sorts of organic nut butters and they’re based in Henfield. We’ve got Park Farm honey, from just up the road.  J.Cocoa, the chocolatier from Hassocks, and Slice, the local Seven Dials bakery and sweetmaker.”  

And it’s not just about the small producers; there’s a place at the table for shops, too. “We’ve got stuff from ‘And More Again’ in Upper Gardener Street because they –  Penny –goes to India a lot and she’s going to have a permanent feature in the shop because she fits what I like, the vibe.”  

So are you going to expand into things like local cheeses? “My core is art, that’s what the vibe is. The heart of the shop is community, but my core is art. If we can bring those things together…”

We hear so much about the death of the high street, about big stores closing, about how people only shop online. But maybe this is what the future will look like, post-Covid when big high street shopping has recalibrated. Community-based shops that work together, that help each other, that support other local businesses. 

“There are so many lovely people here and if we can all work together we can only make everyone stronger, and have more fun while we’re doing it”