Tag: Sidney Pizan

SIDNEY – A Tribute: part 5*

by adamhalevi, posted in Advertising, Advertising Studio, Black and White Photography, British Woolmark, Commercial Photography, David Hendry, Fashion Photography, Merino Sheep, Sidney Pizan, The Studio, Uncategorized

the master of anecdote…

In addition to his many talents, Sidney was a fine raconteur and a master of the anecdote. I related one of his most amusing military national service stories in an earlier post, but the Studio also offered up many hysterical moments, none of which my uncle enjoyed relating more than the story of the prize ram…

About 1969/70, British Woolmark (now Woolmark Company) hired Sidney to do a campaign for them. In his wisdom, the director of the first shoot decided that it would be a good idea to position a prize ram between two pretty models wearing the latest woollen clothes. This might have been a good idea, had it been a pastoral location, but he wanted it to be a studio piece. So, one prize Merino ram, and his farmer were summoned from deepest Sussex to Arkwright Road NW3. Even then things might have worked, had not the ram been brought straight from the muddiest, rain-sodden pasture, it’s fleece – the focal point of the shoot – caked in thick mud.

An old engraving of a Merino ram.

Sidney and his team had no option but to attempt to wash the ram, and with the farmer’s assistance, they managed to get the animal into the bathtub in Sidney’s flat – attached to the rear of the studio. However, the resulting bathe resulted in a drenched, grey woollen mat, rather than the snow-white, fluffy, pristine Merino fleece required by the director. Then someone suggested using a hairdryer to dry the sheep, which, after an hour or so actually worked but it still left the wool looking too dull. Then someone else had the brilliant idea to cover the ram with talcum powder. At this point, the farmer leant over to Sidney and warned him in his rich Sussex tones, “I should warn ye, that e do like to pass a bit o’wind…”.

The resulting photo session was a farcical nightmare: The ram was maneuvered onto the backing paper between the two models, donning their woolen finery. The talc, having got up the animals nose, caused it to sneeze and then fart. Every time it sneezed, a great cloud of talc filled the room like a fog. Every time it farted, a rich, pungent stench accompanied the fog, all of which caused the models to flee the room, choking and gagging. Then, the inevitable happened when the farting culminated in the ram evacuating its bowels – massively.

Somehow, eventually, the shoot was completed, with typically excellent pictures, of serenely smiling, elegantly attired girls, either side of a majestic, pristine and proud ram.

Unfortunately, I don’t have photos from the shoot to show here, but I do have another image which shows that The Studio could also be a place of intentional fun…

One of Sidney’s first assistants at the Studio was David Hendry. He was a tall man, but not quite this tall. This photo dates from around 1960.

* The title picture of a typical location shot product of Sidney’s Studio of the stagier variety, from The Art Director’s Index to Photographers, 1970 edition. Sadly, I am unable to identify the model (all suggestions welcome!) or the brand. Even more sadly, I am unable to gain access to a whole load of Sidney’s and his colleagues material to share on this site, including many famous and culturally important images. Hopefully, one day they will get the exposure they deserve, if not here, on some other platform where their contribution to British and international advertising can be fully appreciated and even perhaps inspire future generations of photographers and advertisers. I feel sure that this is what Sidney himself would have wanted and it is the legacy he deserves…

SIDNEY – A Tribute: part 4*

by adamhalevi, posted in Adele Collins, Advertising, Advertising Studio, Ann Kerr, Anya Sonn, Ballentine's Scotch Whiskey, Biddy Lombard, Bill Young, advertising, Black and White Photography, Celia Hammond, Christine williams, Commercial Photography, Davian Taylor, Davina Taylor, Dental Health, Durex, Family Planning, Fashion Photography, Geoff Wooten, George Lazenby, Gerald Green, Government Ad campaigns 1960's, Goya Beauty Products, Hannah Green, Jackie Pallo, Jeanette Harding, Joanna Lumley, Johnson's Baby Powder, Julie Bishop, Ken Swift, London Rubber Company, Margaret Lorraine, Max Factor, Michael Green, Nancy Edgerton, Norman Lambert, Pat Knight, Patti Boyd, Paula Heyworth, Pip Perkins, Sandra Paul, Sandra Paul / Howard, Sidney Pizan, Tammi Ethrington

From 1960 until 1975 “The Studio” was a hive of photographic activity. A seemingly unremarkable corner of NW3 (where Arkwright Road meets Frognal, to be precise) became the scene of remarkable commercial and artistic creativity. Some of the UK’s, Europe’s and even some of America’s most iconic advertising images of the era emerged from this most unflashy and unpretentious of locations. Sidney and his gifted, happy team produced a stream of pictures that encapsulated Britain’s mood shift away from dull, post-war straight-lace to swinging 60’s cool and verve.

My older brother Michael in a magazine ad for a-then-state-of-the-art Creda clothes dryer. We can imagine the caption that went with the picture …

Moreover, their work didn’t merely reflect the prevailing trends but often set the tone of the times with a stream of iconic (a massively overused word, but not in this case), highly innovative and enduring images.

Sidney the model for once, at his dental practice, with Michael in the chair. My father Gerald Green was the art director of the shoot, and he probably took the photo. In the early days of the studio, Sidney got a lot of work through Gerry (as he was known then) and his partner Bill Young’s agency (Crane Advertising), which in turn received a lot of government sponsored commissions. This was part of a campaign to promote dental health in children…

Famous female faces to grace the Studio included Pattie Boyd (future wife to George Harrison, then Eric Clapton) Nancy Edgerton, Sandra Paul (now Howard), Joanna Lumley,  Celia Hammond, Julie Bishop, Adele Collins, Ann Kerr, Paula Heyworth, Jeanette Harding, Anya Sonn, Tammi Etherington, Davina Taylor, Biddy Lampard, Christine Williams, Julie Bishop, Pat Knight and Margaret Lorraine. Among the male models were Ken Swift, Geoff Wooten, George Lazenby (later 007), Pip Perkins, wrestler, Jackie Pallo and Norman Lambert .

The Green family in another government sponsored ad for family planning, and The London Rubber Company (through the use of Durex). The poignant story behind this photo can be found in an earlier post…

In addition to Sidney and Co’s classic fashion shots, they gave 1960’s Britain an original and often defining glimpse of everything from Danish Bacon, Guinness, Heineken Lager, Paxo Turkey Stuffing, Carr’s Water Biscuits to Max Factor roll-on deodorant (and dozens of other products besides).

An ad for Selfridges boys shirts – in addition to all his many other activities, Sidney was staff dentist at Selfridges for over 30 years. This resulted in him doing much of their ad campaigns in the 60’s and 70’s, and, best of all, being given a lifetime 33⅓% discount card on all products – including sale goods. Being leant Sidney’s card was one of the most sought after perks by all those who worked with him and for him (including his family members such, as Michael and I in this shot)…

Apart from being a seriously good fashion photographer, Sidney was a master of head-shots and a genius with still-life. Long before “food styling” was a thing, Sidney’s food and drink ads in particular were masterpieces of light, colour, depth and shade, often setting benchmarks for all those that followed.

Hannah standing in for a model on a Max Factor shoot on the left, in 1964. The photo on the right dates from 1967, but I can’t recall what it was for. From my recollection models were often late for work, and I think mum was pulled in on at least three occasions for headshots like these…

Unfortunately, I do not have access to much of Sidney’s professional portfolio, and much of the material I do have, I do not have the rights to reproduce here. Nevertheless, I am fortunate to own all of Sidney’s work for which I, and other family members were the models. And, while some of these images will be familiar to regular readers of these posts, there are also one or two charming surprises which give at least a flavour and the atmosphere of the Studio’s output in the early-to- mid 1960’s.

I think this was the final time I modelled for Sidney, about 1967. I know the baseball boots were mine, so I’m presuming that it was for the clothes.

SIDNEY – A Tribute: part 3

by adamhalevi, posted in Advertising, Advertising Studio, Bill Young, advertising, Black and White Photography, Brian Jaquest, Commercial Photography, David Hendry, Derek Berg, Doreen Dahl, Edgar Asher, Faith Hollings / Clements, Fashion Photography, Gerald Green, Hannah Green, Henry Sudwarts, Lawrence Sackman, London Transport Museum, Peter Hawkins, Sidney Pizan

the team behind the scenes…

When I began this series of posts on Sidney, I had originally planned to do just three, but since then I have had the privilege and the joy of reconnecting with several of his old colleagues, assistants and models, from the days when he ran one of London’s top advertising photography studios. Subsequently, I now have far more material – anecdotal and pictorial, than when I started out on this mission, and so this will now be number 3 of 5 posts in total.

The most striking – not to mention moving element of this process has been how each and every person I have been in contact with has had nothing but warm memories and kind words about Sidney and their time working at “The Studio”.

This post offers a small, illustrated, behind-the-scenes record of those exciting and pioneering times…

An early publicity shot of Sidney and his team (1964 – taken using a timer): Edgar Asher (TL), Henry Sudwarts (TR), Doreen Dahl (CL), Sidney (C), Faith Hollings (CR), Lawrence Sackman (F). Edgar was extremely tall and thin, and is the only person I know to break their leg playing the violin. He was a fine photographer in his own right and went on to work for the Israel Press and Photo Agency. Lawrence – the youngest of the group – learnt his craft well, and went on to a successful career in art and erotic photography, working with Guy Bourdin and Helmut Newton. More on the others below…
Probably taken by my father, Gerald Green (1960), this shows Sidney with Bill Young and my mother Hannah (far left – Sidney’s sister – and I’m presuming that the two other ladies were accompanying Sidney and Bill). Bill was my father’s partner and became good friends with Sidney. In addition to being an add-man he was also a darn good artist. Two of his gorgeous large oil landscapes adorned my childhood home and strongly influenced my own painting style…
Sidney with Henry Sudwarts, who contributed this and several others of the photos shown here and has some interesting recollections from his time at the Studio. Not only did he get to drive Sidney’s prized Alvis motor car, he also remembers a “Dell Boy”* -like handyman who used Sidney’s basement to stash away contraband cigarettes and radios off the back of a lorry! Henry too branched out on his own in fashion photography before moving into TV in Israel. Having married a South African in 1980 he then moved to Cape Town, where after 30 years working in things as diverse as jewelry and tourism, he picked up a camera again and became an acclaimed wildlife photographer . .
Doreen (left) and Faith from a mid-1960’s shot for BEA (British European Airlines) taken at Sagres on the southern Algarve of Portugal. The main purpose of the trip was a job for Women’s Own Magazine, and the girls were both assisting with the shoot. Faith, whose memories and information have been invaluable to me in compiling these posts, was one of Sidney’s photographic assistants. She has something interesting to say that “to his credit Sidney employed me as a photographic assistant even though I am a woman. Women of my age had to fight to earn a place in a male dominated profession and I had spent three years learning my craft at Guildford School of Art under the the wonderful Ifor Thomas, who was head of the Photographic Department.” Faith now lives in Portugal where she works for an animal charity…
Henry with Doreen . Doreen was Sidney’s secretary (or PA in today’s terminology), and also an aspiring classical timpanist. Faith and Doreen became friends, and she would sometimes help Faith with photographic duties, including setting up a darkroom on travelling shoots, such as the one above in Sagres. My mother, who did additional secretarial work for Sidney, also became very fond of Doreen. Sadly, I haven’t yet discovered what has become of her or her timpani playing?
One of Sidney’s later assistant photographers was Peter Watkins, pictured here on a shoot at the London Transport Museum in London’s Covent Garden. Peter also went on to have a successful career as a fashion photographer. The young chap seated is yours truly. During school holidays I often got to watch shoots, but this one stood out for the fact Peter drove me there in his open topped MGB GT – my first time in a convertible sportscar. Other notable photographers and set technicians who worked for and/or with Sidney from 1960-1975 and who also helped me with my research, included Brian Jaquest, Derek Berg and David Hendry.

*For those reading this not acquainted with the long-running British sitcom, “Only Fools and Horses”, Del Boy was a spiv (someone who deals in dodgy and black-market goods), and the program’s main protagonist.

SIDNEY – A Tribute: part 2

by adamhalevi, posted in Advertising, Bill Young, advertising, Black and White Photography, Commercial Photography, Family Portrait, Gerald Green, Hampstead, Hannah Green, Michael Green, Portrait Photography, Sidney Pizan

A portrait of a family

Around late 1959, early 1960, my father, Gerry Green and his business partner, Bill Young launched out on their own as an advertising partnership. They had plenty of contacts in the industry and thus plenty of work, but soon found that the price of good photographers was prohibitive to the success of their burgeoning venture.

Fortunately, Gerry’s brother-in-law, Sidney Pizan, in addition to being a dentist, was a talented amateur photographer, and when approached was open to the idea of trying his hand at applying his skills commercially.

Sidney took to advertising photography like a duck to water, and within a few months, had established himself in Hampstead (in north London) as a professional photographer, getting more work – both from Gerry and Bill, and his growing string of contacts – than he could manage alone. Before long Sidney began recruiting other young aspiring photographers, apprentices and assistants to help him carry the workload and run his business. “The Studio”, as it was known, became something of a commercial photography academy, founding not only Sidney’s career, but those of a string of gifted colleagues.

In my next part of this tribute to my late uncle, I will go into more detail regarding Sidney and his team’s output of fabulous advertising images, but for Sidney himself, despite his success, his greatest creative enjoyment remained his “free” or “casual photography”.

Presented below are some of his best pictures, all of his family (particularly my mother – his sister – Hannah, my older brother Michael and I). If this seems a tad narcissistic on my part, I should point out, that we – his parents, and us – were the epicentre of his life, outside of his professional lives – and were, in a very real sense, his photographic muses. In those days, when out and about or when visiting the Studio , I can’t remember a time when Sidney did not have his trusty Rolleiflex hanging from his neck and him pointing it in our direction. Narcissistic or not, these images are moody, emotive, sensitive, an intimate family portrait, and just a damn brilliant illustration of the photographic portraiture and human study at its very best…

Sidney’s sister (my mum) Hannah, taken in 1960, shortly after being deserted by my father (Gerry the advertising man). I love the way this shot captures her sad dignity…
Sidney’s nephew (my big brother), Michael, in from the garden for a snack…
Me…
Hannah at Adelboden (Bernese Oberland, Switzerland, and much used in Bond films) – our first family holiday abroad in 1962…
Us three…
Adam, playing…
Brothers…
Hannah, happy and beautiful…
Hannah with me in the South of France…
After Sidney retired from commercial photography (in 1975), he turned the studio itself into an up-market picture framery. This was the last photo he ever took of Michael (right) and I together, working in the framery – about 1985.

SIDNEY – A Tribute: part 1

by adamhalevi, posted in Advertising, Becky and Harry Pizan, Commercial Photography, Dentistry, East End, Gerald Green, Hannah Green, Hendon County School, Jewish quota, Lionel Blue, London, National Service, Pizan Family, Sidney Pizan, Uncategorized, University College Medical School

The making of the man…

Of all the people I have ever encountered who should have been famous, but were not, my uncle Sidney Pizan, who passed away in December aged 94, is the greatest example I can think of.

Immensely intelligent (declared a genius upon entering grammar school aged only nine); a brain equally at home in the sciences and the arts; a star medical student at London’s University College Medical School; a gifted and highly successful commercial photographer; picture framing entrepreneur; a multi linguist fluent in six languages; plus, a discerning antiquarian bibliophile and all-round connoisseur and collector of the arts with an internationally respected knowledge of Art Nouveau, Sidney was the epitome of a renaissance man.

Moreover, hailing as he did from humble Jewish origins in London’s East End, the son of shopkeepers, Sidney lived a sort of British version of the American Dream, proving, that with a rich combination of nouse and grit, the sky was virtually the limit… I say virtually, because Sidney’s medical ambitions at least were curtailed by a shameful quota on Jewish medical students permitted to become doctors, meaning he had to settle for dentistry (chiropody and ophthalmics being alternative options). That notwithstanding, the only thing that stopped him going on to true fame and fortune was his own lack of hunger for any such things.

At least until his fifties, as regards his profession/s, his pastimes, his social and his family life, Sidney enjoyed a contentedness which perhaps, in a way, dampened any greater ambitions he might have had. Then, following his belated discovery of a partner, and then later wife, he discovered another level of contentment. Ultimately, Sidney was happy as anyone reasonably can expect to be with his lots, firstly as a bachelor and then later with a far quieter, settled existence.

The pictures presented here, show Sidney as a child, mostly together with his younger sister (my late mother, Hannah), and take us up to the time just before he became a professional photographer – a period comprising about 25 years. I hope, and think, that even for strangers looking in on this post, they offer a charming window into a lost world…

A family outing around 1935, perhaps in Epping Forrest. Sidney is the boy with the blonde curls in the front, with his little sister (my mum) next to him, on their mother’s lap (Becky). Their father, Harry is the chap kneeling, second from the left. At this time they lived in the Mile End Road in Stepney, East London. Harry was a grocer and they lived above the shop. Despite their modest means they enjoyed life and wanted for nothing, as I think the glow radiating from this happy assortment of cousins, uncles and aunts clearly reveals…
A formal studio portrait of Hannah and Sidney, circa 1936
Sidney and Hannah enjoying a treat…
A school sports photo taken about 1948. At the height of the London Blitz, Harry moved the family to the north-London suburb of Hendon, to avoid the worst of the bombing. Sidney (back row, third from the right) and Hannah (front row, fifth from the left) both excelled at the local grammar school, Hendon County. The headmaster, Maynard Potts declared Sidney the second cleverest student ever to attend the school (the cleverest being Sidney’s classmate, Lionel Blue – later to become a radio celebrity Rabbi on the BBC – standing third from right with spectacles – I think).
Brother and sister around 1949, shortly before Sidney began his two years national service.
Sidney in his first dental practice in Ecclestone Street, Victoria, in central London.
Captain Pizan (Sidney was an officer in the medical corps – stationed in a schloss in the Black Forest, Sidney spent most of his time learning to ski, drive and taking care of the castle’s substantial wine cellar – he also became fluent in German) attending Hannah’s wedding to my father, Gerald Green in 1953. Gerry, as he was known then, ended up in advertising, and it was he who persuaded Sidney to do commercial photographs for his company, thus beginning a whole new chapter in his life…
…to be continued…

HAGIS AND BACON – in the Black Forest…

by adamhalevi, posted in Black Forrest, Burns Night, Kosher cooking, National Service, Robert Burns, Scottish Cuisine, Sidney Pizan

Before my uncle Sidney became one of the star commercial photographers of “swinging sixties” London, he qualified as a dentist. He had wanted to be a doctor, but despite his stellar exam marks, as a Jew, he fell victim of the wicked anti-Jewish quota that was (quite incredibly, given the historical post-WWII context) still in force in 1950’s Britain, so he had to settle for a career in dentistry.

Funnily enough, there was no such quota when it came to National Service. As far as the recruiters for Her Majesty’s armed forces were concerned, so long as you weren’t flat-footed, just about anyone would do, including criminals – and even Jews. Fortunately for Sidney, as a recently qualified medic – though a humble dentist – he was assured a highly enjoyable and adventurous two years, that were to enrich his life in many unforeseen ways.

In Sidney’s case, he was drafted into the medical corps at the rank of lieutenant, and following some very basic military training, was soon promoted to captain, before receiving a dream posting, to a grand schloss, in the Black Forest (in Germany), as part of a medical team.

When not examining mouths, which was not all that much, Sidney’s “onerous” existence included hardships such as learning to drive, and being taught to ski in the nearby Bernese Oberland (across the border in Switzerland), and perhaps worst of all, being put in charge of the schloss’s vast wine cellar. But perhaps the biggest change in Captain Pizan’s life – a seismic change in fact – was to his diet; from that of an observant, kosher, North London Jewish household, to that of a British Army officer’s mess; and thereby hangs an amusing and delicious little tale…

Sidney’s schloss-full of medical officers was commanded by a Colonel (let’s call him) Mackenzie, who happened to be an extremely proud Edinburgh Scot. And like all proud Scots, he loved his Scottish traditions, the most important of which was the piping in of the haggis on Burns Night. However, having little trust in the Sassenach mess cook’s abilities to produce the genuine article, Colonel Mackenzie had his mother’s haggis flown over from Scotland.

And thus, on this particular Burns Night 1954, the entire medical team, in full dress uniform – Mackenzie in his kilt, lined the lavishly presented long dining table. The company then stood to attention, as two squaddies carried in the steaming haggis, born upon their shoulders, on a large silver salver, preceded by a finely regaled Scots Guard piper playing the stirring strains of A Man’s A Man For A’ That. Then, after coronating the delicacy with a dash of flaming whiskey, the colonel himself cut up the haggis which was then distributed among the diners.

But, as a waiter approached him with his portion of sheep’s stomach stuffed with offal and oatmeal, a wary Sidney declined his serving, thus triggering the following exchange between Colonel and captain…

“Captain Pizan” said the colonel.

“Yes Colonel?” replied Sidney.

“Are ye nay gonna eat me mother’s ‘aggis?” asked Mackenzie in his heavy Edinburgh brogue.

“I apologise sir, but my religion forbids me from eating it.”

“So ye say Captain Pizan.”

“Yes Colonel.”

“Captain Pizan.”

“Yes Colonel?”

“Had I nay seen ye tuckin’ into yer bacon and eggs this mornin’ with such relish, I would nay insist ye eat me mother’s ‘aggis. But as I did see ye tuckin’ into yer bacon and eggs this mornin’ with such relish, ye will not only eat me mother’s ‘aggis, you will like me mother’s ‘aggis!”

And so Sidney was involuntarily introduced to the delights of Scottish cuisine, which turned out to be a very good thing indeed, as not only did he like the haggis; he loved it.

Somewhere in all of this there might be a moral lurking, but I can’t quite put my finger on it?

A “full English” (including the American baked beans interloper) 2020’s style. I doubt that baked beans were served in Sidney’s officer’s mess – at least not with breakfast. In their place, there would have been additions such as black pudding (blood sausage – morcilla, for my Spanish readers), devilled kidneys, and perhaps minute steaks too.
The traditional piping in of the haggis on Burns Night.