In Boring Postcards Magnum photographer and postcard enthusiast Martin Parr brought together 160 of the dullest postcards of 1950s, 60s and 70s Britain to make a book that was, contrary to the conceit of its title, both fascinating and extremely funny. It was one of those ideas that seemed so obvious that no one could believe it hadn't been done before, and it caught the public imagination in a big way. In Britain Boring Postcards was discussed everywhere from daytime TV shows to art and design magazines, from local newspapers and radio stations (outraged that their town should be labelled 'boring') to Time magazine. Now Parr has turned his attention to the USA for a new book of Boring Postcards . Just as before, for a postcard to qualify as sufficiently 'boring', either its composition, its content, or the characters featured must be arguably boring or the photograph must be absent of anything that might conventionally be described as interesting. As the study of postcards becomes a field of academic interest, this book offers more than as a folk art recording of the non-places and non-events of post-war America, it reveals poignant insights into its social, cultural and architectural values.
Martin Parr was born in Epsom, Surrey, UK in 1952. When he was a boy, his budding interest in the medium of photography was encouraged by his grandfather George Parr, himself a keen amateur photographer.
Parr studied photography at Manchester Polytechnic, from 1970-1973. Since that time, Martin Parr has worked on numerous photographic projects. He has developed an international reputation for his innovative imagery, his oblique approach to social documentary, and his input to photographic culture within the UK and abroad.
In 1994 he became a full member of Magnum Photographic Corporation. In recent years, he has developed an interest in filmmaking, and has started to use his photography within different conventions, such as fashion and advertising.
In 2002 the Barbican Art Gallery and the National Media Museum initiated a large retrospective of Parr's work. This show toured Europe for the next 5 years.
Parr was appointed Professor of Photography in 2004 at The University of Wales Newport campus. He was Guest Artistic Director for Rencontres D'Arles in 2004. In 2006 he was awarded the Erich Salomon Prize and the resulting Assorted Cocktail show opened at Photokina. In 2008 he was guest curator at the New York Photo Festival, curating the New Typologies exhibition. At PhotoEspana, 2008, he won the Baume et Mercier award in recognition of his professional career and contributions to contemporary photography.
These postcards sure are boring... ugly, faded, 'retro' colors. Stuff of mid-20th century America. But they are also fascinating. It's fascinating to see what could be subjects in such postcards:
Turnpikes, bridges, car washes, truck stops, restaurants and diners, ugly food, motels, inns, hotels (incl. rooms), malls, one-street small towns, banks, airports, barracks, factories, machinie (parts), furniture, cars, trailer parks...
Some pictures have the sparseness of newly-built-and-nothing-around-yet, the alone-ness of the landscape, the ugly-but-practical. You wonder how healthy these places actually are. There rises a certain mood in these pictures, not necessarily what the makers would've included, when one contemplates them. They *are* boring but fascinating, memory cards of a past that one is glad is past. Well worth the look anyway, as a book.
Time and time again, I check this book out of the library. There is something incomprehensibly mind-boggling about this book. Perhaps it's the graphic designer in me, but the scope of work involved in this book just makes me marvel at the stupid things humanity will do. The book is as its title describes - a collection of very boring postcards from the late 40s-70s.
But here is the bit that gets me. Someone, somewhere had to say "You know Ma, what we should do is create a postcard of the air traffic control tower at Waterloo Iowa/The Skyline Motor Inn in Cody Wyoming/The colorful rug near the entrant of the national office of the American Baptists Churches, Valley Forge Interchange, PA.'"
But then, NO ONE stopped this boob. Instead, they forged ahead. They hired a photographer, who, in all likelihood took more than one shot of the chosen scene. They then needed to sift through the shots to find the BEST view of "The beautiful and spacious dining room of the Wesleyan Retirement Home in Georgetown, TX" or "The Virginian Restaurant, Williamsburg, Virginia (with it's large spaghetti pizza sign)".
Now, after the perfect picture is chosen, this postcard must be designed and created by a graphic designer. As these cards were made pre-computer, some poor bastard had to hand lay out the type and image, making sure there are no typos in "Arial view of the twin bridges spanning the Cuyahoga River Valley and the Ohio Canal."
Finally, this masterpiece must be sent to a printer, who spent time choosing a stock, adjusting colors to get just the right tan for the road of the Pennsylvanian Turnpike near Downingtown PA. Once printed (and this again boggles the mind) people have to take these postcards and post them to someone. And they have! Nothing says "I'm thinking of you" than a postcard from the Pike View Motel in Strongsville Ohio.
As a postcard aficionado, I have long admired the art of the postcard (or at least the art of selecting the best image to represent place), so I really appreciated the quirky mix of aesthetic and pure representation of place collected in Boring Postcards USA. Originating from roughly 1950s to the 1970s, these postcards show an America celebrating the everyday life of a prosperous postwar country, acting as advertisement as much as souvenir. With subject matters that may seem frankly unexciting, i.e., stretches of anonymous highway, one indeterminable from another, shown in faded midcentury color with pale blue skies and pale green laws and trees, they can hide deceptive insights. These cards, were, after all, created to advertise the existence or place of something, whether seedy looking truck stops, fortress-like college dormitories, or vast airport parking lots, these images provide a glimpse of how mid-twentieth century America wanted itself to be seen. I enjoyed thinking about some of the stories behind a few of the cards and wondering what they are like today, if they still exist; See the site of the proposed larger taconite plant in Grand Rapids, Minnesota (no doubt now entirely deforested). Witness the roomy storage capacity of the 1974 Ford Econoline. Check out the Northway Mall Shopping Center in Pittsburgh (it has a Woolworths!). Boring postcards do still turn up today, they still do print “Traveling on Beautiful 1-84” and I am not ashamed to admit I picked one up. In any case, a fun, quickly absorbed coffee table book, perfect for fans of Americana and postcards.
Unsurprisingly, this is the American version of the one and only Boring Postcards. At first, I thought the author had lost it, as the first couple pages feature postcards that are, if not exactly thrill a minute, at least sport some mildly pleasent greenery; This does not last as the helicopter shots of planned expressways quickly give way to thrilling highway onramps, nondescript car washes, and pictures of Krispy Kreme donut boxes. Boring Postcards USA proceeds to deliver exactly what it promises, with no text except what I assume are captions from the postcards themselves - I certainly don't know of anyone who would describe the soulless rectangle that is Atlanta's new terminal building as "magnificent". The result is bizzarely fascinating; I had to stop myself from just reading the entire book in one sitting as I kept wanting to turn the page and see how Parr would top the images I was currently looking at. Highly recommended.
I love this book. The others in the series (UK and Germany) are fun too. My beloved once called me from New Jersey to let me know that the Rent-A-Center in Cherry Hill had not changed a bit.
My favorite postcard in the US book has to be the picture of the anhydrous ammonia tank truck because it's so inexplicable.
My beloved and I spent a fascinating afternoon with Google maps street view and Boring Postcards UK looking for locations and finding out what had changed. "The Street, Rustington" was especially challenging to find (corner of Broadmark Lane. Added a peaked roof.) Wulfrun Centre in Wolverhampton has been roofed over. High street, Frimley has not changed *at all*. Really. Okay, the planters are a bit different....
The question is, were any of these postcards ever sent and received? No, wait – the question is, why would anyone ever send any of these postcards? Not to say, “Wish you were here,” surely. For the rest of us, this is a fun little book to add some quirk to our shelves or coffee tables.
Another book that is strange to review. If you "get" this then it is hard to fault (and if you don't you probably won't be persuaded.) These are carefully reproduced postcards of ridiculous things: Motel forecourts, army barracks, freeway intersections, municipal airports, worm gears and so on. There are endless brick boxes of various sizes and functions, sometimes described as beautiful or stylish. And one can't help wondering if the producers really thought anyone would want these images. But, at the same time, looking back, it has a certain sort of fascination to know what an Iowa motel looked like in 1950s when it was fresh and new. This is clearly a tongue in cheek book but that isn't the limit of it. Strangely compulsive.
A meditative experience on the bland structures and empty highways of the United States. The most telling fact is that these pictures were postcards, bought and sold during the fifties, sixties, and seventies. Someone made a commemorative postcard of a grand ballroom with thirteen foot ceilings. Someone else bought it.
This book is oddly fascinating, and, as advertised, particularly boring. I'd recommend it to anyone who feels like zoning out for a few minutes.
Just as the name implies, it's boring. I thought this collection would be rife with tongue-in-cheek witticisms. Instead I am bombarded with aerial shots of interstate exchanges, the exteriors of motels, blah, blah, all taken by persons with zero artistic sensibilities. The pictures are all rendered in horrible muted colors that look sun-bleached and leave me nauseous. (Apparently, I'm viscerally sensitive to colors beyond that of chartreuse and Pepto-Bismol pink!)
Just what the title says. The only text is the acknowledgements printed on the endpages and the brief captions on most of the images, otherwise the books is (more or less) actual-size reproductions of the kinds of postcards that one encounters by the score everywhere -- small-town buildings, motels and motel-room interiors, malls, parking lots, cars, furniture, etc. In reality most such cards are likely to be of interest to someone, particularly as the places and styles disappear over time, but they're likely polarizing: of interest to a small audience, and not at all interesting to anyone else.
An interesting, kitchy, and often hilarious look into retro America.
Each page features a real postcard depicting subjects ranging from bizarre to banal, including not-so-scenic highway overpasses, machinery, horrible-looking food, and dodgy motels.
I love that no commentary is offered; the pictures are left to speak for themselves.
i liked this better - a lot better - than the non-usa edition. something about the images had a better sense of humor, held my interest more. i'm somewhat afraid/fascinated that this may be due to the fact i am an american.
How did I not own this before?! It was an impulse buy at the Chicago Architecture Foundation shop, and I'll have a "review" up soon. Full of the kinds of places I love taking photos of...
Didn't live up to the title at all. Something completely fascinated me about these postcards and it was a happy accident when I literally ran into it at the bookstore.