Vivian Maier: Self-portrait. Photograph: ©Vivian Maier/Maloof Collection
Tish Murtha: Self-portrait. Photograph: ©Tish Murtha Archive
This reflection focuses on my involvement with the Tish Murtha Archive from summer 2015 to 2016, when the first steps were taken to preserve and reintroduce her work to the wider photographic community.
A Fateful Screening
One day in the summer of 2015, I watched a screening of Finding Vivian Maier at Tyneside Cinema. Afterwards, I wandered over to the Laing Art Gallery to see the Forever Amber exhibition, where I was struck by a photograph by a photographer who shared my mam's maiden name: Murtha.
The following day, I visited my mam in Durham and mentioned it to her. She told me that Tish was her cousin, and that she had sadly passed away two years earlier from a brain aneurysm age 56. I remembered my mam attending the funeral, but had no idea that Tish had been a documentary photographer.
The following day, I visited my mam in Durham and mentioned it to her. She told me that Tish was her cousin, and that she had sadly passed away two years earlier, aged 56, following a brain aneurysm. I remembered my mam attending the funeral, but had no idea that Tish had been a documentary photographer.
At the time, a search for "Tish Murtha" returned just a single result — a then recent BBC write-up of the Forever Amber exhibition, featuring one of her photographs. With no published books and almost no online presence, she barely existed in the public domain.
Later that day, I sat down and wrote my very first blog post on my newly created WordPress website — with no real intention beyond a simple test of the platform: a short review of Finding Vivian Maier and Forever Amber.
I had no idea that this serendipitous sequence of events would mark the beginning of something much larger.
From Bin Bags to Belief
Soon after, the first comment appeared on that post — from Ella, Tish’s daughter (my second cousin). I replied, and on 18 August 2015 drove from Newcastle to Norton, Stockton-on-Tees, to meet her and discuss her mam’s work.
Ella went up to her loft and returned with a battered cardboard box — filled with plastic bin bags and carrier bags containing Tish’s photographs and unprotected negatives. She told me that it was her dream for her mam’s work to be seen by the world, but admitted she didn’t know where to begin.
18 August 2015: The Tish Murtha Archive as it was. Photo © David Sampele
Having just seen Finding Vivian Maier, I recognised the situation immediately. Like John Maloof at the start of his journey, I felt a mix of disbelief and excitement at what was before me — an unseen archive waiting to be recognised.
Like Vivian Maier’s negatives, discovered in suitcases, this felt both tragic and symbolic. Tish’s life’s work was also homeless — living in a battered cardboard box, unprotected, unrecognised, and uncared for, at risk of being lost entirely.
I took everything home and began organising the archive — bringing order to what had been left in disarray.
A Journey of Drive and Dedication
The months that followed became a series of deliberate steps, driven by a growing conviction that Tish’s work deserved to be seen and preserved. Four moments in particular stand out:
September 2015 — The First Drive South
On 28 September 2015, I set off on a six-hour drive to the University of South Wales in Newport, where Tish Murtha had once been a student. There I met with photographer and lecturer Paul Reas to initiate discussions around the archive. He agreed to lead a project through the university to begin organising and scanning the material. After a short but significant meeting, I drove six hours home — tired, but certain that progress had begun.
On 28 September 2015, I set off on a six-hour drive to the University of South Wales in Newport, where Tish Murtha had once been a student. There I met with photographer and lecturer Paul Reas to initiate discussions around the archive. He agreed to lead a project through the university to begin organising and scanning the material. After a short but significant meeting, I drove six hours home — tired, but certain that progress had begun.
October 2015 — Further Encouragement
A few weeks later, while attending a Magnum Professional Practice workshop in London, I discussed the archive with Dianne Smyth of The British Journal of Photography. Her immediate recognition of Tish’s name — and genuine interest in the story — confirmed the significance of the work.
A few weeks later, while attending a Magnum Professional Practice workshop in London, I discussed the archive with Dianne Smyth of The British Journal of Photography. Her immediate recognition of Tish’s name — and genuine interest in the story — confirmed the significance of the work.
February 2016 — A Digital Presence
By February 2016, I was in Taiwan following the birth of my daughter. There, I began building a website and creating a Wikipedia page for Tish — working quietly through the night while mother and baby slept. Until then, Tish's legacy existed only in fragile physical form. She had worked entirely with film, never part of the digital world, so establishing an online presence felt like introducing her to a new space that had previously been out of reach, an essential step in making her work accessible and visible.
By February 2016, I was in Taiwan following the birth of my daughter. There, I began building a website and creating a Wikipedia page for Tish — working quietly through the night while mother and baby slept. Until then, Tish's legacy existed only in fragile physical form. She had worked entirely with film, never part of the digital world, so establishing an online presence felt like introducing her to a new space that had previously been out of reach, an essential step in making her work accessible and visible.
May 2016 — The Return to Wales
On 31 May 2016, I made the journey again — this time with Ella — driving from the North East to Tintern, Wales, to meet Magnum photographer David Hurn at his cottage along with Paul Reas, Lulu Preece, and Kate Mercer.
On 31 May 2016, I made the journey again — this time with Ella — driving from the North East to Tintern, Wales, to meet Magnum photographer David Hurn at his cottage along with Paul Reas, Lulu Preece, and Kate Mercer.
David, who had been Tish’s lecturer at Newport, remembered her vividly. His insight, alongside Paul’s, helped shape the direction of what was becoming a much larger project.
Those long drives offered time to reflect. With each step, the sense grew that something important was taking shape — that Tish’s work was beginning to find its way back into the light.
When Paul later posted “Watch this space” on Facebook, it marked a clear transition: the archive was moving into a new phase.
Soon after that meeting, my involvement with the project came to an end, and the archive’s journey continued without me.
28 September 2015: Paul Reas sees the archive for the first time. Photo © David Sampele
31 May 2016: "Watch this space." Photo © David Sampele
31 May 2016: At David Hurn's cottage Photo © David Sampele
Ten Years On
From a forgotten archive to a lasting legacy
In the years that followed, the rediscovery of Tish’s archive led to the posthumous recognition her work had long deserved. Exhibitions, publications, and a feature documentary reintroduced her photographs — not as forgotten artefacts, but as vital records of working-class life, observed with clarity and compassion.
Tish Murtha: Works 1976–1991 at The Photographers’ Gallery (2018) established her retrospective in central London, bringing her six major series to a national audience. This was followed by inclusion in major public collections, including the Arts Council, British Council, The AmberSide Collection, and the National Portrait Gallery, as well as later exhibition in The 80s: Photographing Britain at Tate Britain (2024/2025) — recognition that carried her work from the streets of Elswick to the country’s most significant institutions.
Fittingly, like Vivian Maier, Tish (2023) now has her own documentary, exploring her life and work. Both films appearing on BBC iPlayer around the same time felt like more than a coincidence, given how profoundly Finding Vivian Maier had influenced the first steps in preserving Tish's archive — a connection not widely known, and a striking parallel between two photographers separated by time and place, yet connected by a shared story of rediscovery and recognition.
