Tish

Tish Murtha shouldn't really have made the breakthrough into documentary photography. She didn't have the connections or come from a middle class background like most of those populating the arts. Murtha was working class and her struggle was very real but she had talent, maybe genius and an ability to connect, with unbridled passion and empathy.

She had that very rare quality that few photographers attain which is the ability to dissolve into a circumstance as a seemingly invisible observer. To become a pure conduit of subject to viewer. The visual impact is immensely powerful and it's the essence of great documentary photography.

Murthas uncompromising personality comes through in these bold pragmatic images but the story is not one of celebration. It's one of struggle of one born into a class that is still only represented by 8% of people in the Arts. I will leave you to figure out how she fared when applying for arts grants.

A sad poignant film full of 'what ifs' for a supremely talented photographer who should hopefully find herself realigned next to the greats of documentary photography.

Authentic and real Tish is a love letter from a daughter to her mother. But also a love letter to those forgotten and left on the scrapheap. The images she capture with her Olympus camera, that now hang in the Tate modern. Capture the working class world of the 70s and 80s Northeast like no other. Because Tish was born from the very soul of the places and people she photographed. From Capturing the soullessness of the phenomenally popular juvenile jazz bands of the time, regimented "FUN" for the working class kids! To the honesty and hope of the youth that was sadly betrayed by those in power.

There's a heartbreakingly moving moment where Tish's Daughter, Ella is captured as a child singing on an old recording made on a tape machine.

Twinkle Twinkle little star. The sound of a child's honestly, hope and innocent joy is there to hear. Tish is a beautifully made documentary.

I didn't know. This draw dropping moment. A feeling of disbelief. Viewing Rembrandts etchings or Van Gogh's drawings. They all felt like you were there. Tish was on par. She was in the battlefield like McCullin and Kilip, never parachuted in to do a job. She was there. The photos were black and white but the blood was still red. Her signing on at the age of 56 was a frightening indication of the lack of respect for art and ability.

Passion. Art or music without passion is nothing and irrelevant. Her black and white photos in the documentary are sometimes genius. The subject is often so unattractive - poverty, struggle, redundancy, deprivation and unemployment with new technology threatening permanency. Hats off to the BBC and Tish's daughter Ella for exposure at last. It makes me feel ashamed.