The fact that Martin Parr, a photographer who spent forty years capturing British people at their most vulnerable, is now the focus of an exhibition that invites viewers to sit in silence with sorrow is a unique form of irony. Tucked away in a converted warehouse space in Bristol, the Martin Parr Foundation is reopening this year with something old instead of something new: The Last Resort, the body of work that made him famous and, for a while, caused a lot of people in the British photography establishment to feel uneasy.
Parr passed away on December 6 of last year at the age of 73. After that, the foundation closed for a while, as these establishments frequently do. When it reopens on February 20, it will do so with the series that, more than anything else he produced over the course of a fifty-year career, defined him. Even though it’s the obvious decision, there’s something appropriate about it. Depending on who you ask, The Last Resort isn’t his best technical achievement. It may be his strongest emotion.
The images, which were taken between 1983 and 1985 in New Brighton, a faded seaside resort close to Liverpool, depict sunbathers crammed onto concrete next to construction debris, families eating chips on litter-strewn beaches, and kids sobbing in grocery carts. In contrast to the softer black-and-white documentary tradition he had previously worked in, Parr’s use of a Plaubel Makina 67 and daylight flash gave the images a harsh, almost lurid clarity. People took notice right away. Not always in a nice way.
The response was sharply divided when the piece debuted at London’s Serpentine Gallery in 1986. Liz Wells and other critics accused Parr of making fun of the working-class people he photographed, calling it condescending and even cruel. Others, such as photographer Fay Godwin, vehemently objected, questioning why kindness in photography should be mandatory. Strangely enough, that argument hasn’t really disappeared. Simply put, it became quieter.
Forty years later, it’s interesting to note how the photographs read differently. Depending on who is describing it, Britain feels rougher around the edges than it did in 1986, and the decline of seaside towns, which Parr essentially described as an aside, has developed into its own small genre of cultural commentary. It appears that the exhibition is placing a wager that viewers will see more prophecy and less mockery in 2026. It is difficult to determine whether that is true from the outside.
The entire original sequence, pictures that were never included in the 1986 book, contact sheets, and the real camera Parr carried around New Brighton’s promenade will all be included in the Bristol show. Displaying the equipment itself has an almost relic-like quality, as if visitors are supposed to feel more intimately connected to the moment of capture rather than just the final prints. To coincide with the run, Dewi Lewis is publishing a new edition of the photobook, which Parr initially self-funded with what he later acknowledged was “a large amount” of his own money.
The director of the foundation, Jenni Smith, has stated that timing is important and that it seemed appropriate to reopen while commemorating Parr’s passing. It makes sense as an instinct. Starting with the most contentious series in someone’s archive is an odd kind of honesty, but tribute shows can quickly veer into sentimentality. It doesn’t ask for consensus on Parr’s meaning. It simply requests that they take another look.
FAQs
1. When did the Martin Parr Foundation reopen?
The foundation reopened on 20 February 2026.
2. Why is the foundation reopening with The Last Resort?
It’s a tribute marking Parr’s death while celebrating his most defining work.
3. Where was The Last Resort originally shot?
In New Brighton, a seaside resort near Liverpool, between 1983 and 1985.
4. What camera did Martin Parr use for the series?
A Plaubel Makina 67 with daylight flash.
5. When did Martin Parr die?
He died on 6 December 2025, aged 73.
