Factories

Maurice Broomfield (1916–2010) made his name photographing post-war British industry - shipyards, car works, paper mills, and chemical plants. It was in the 1950s that he began creating the iconic factory images that would define his reputation. Rather than offering dry, documentary records of machines, Broomfield treated the factory floor as a stage. His photographs employed dramatic lighting, precise composition, and a sense of performance, with workers often appearing like dancers in an “industrial ballet.” These pictures were at once promotional - many commissioned by the companies themselves - and profoundly humanist. They showcased skill, pride, and the quiet drama of everyday manufacture during a time of national recovery and optimism.

What makes Broomfield’s 1950s work distinctive is its scale and theatricality. He often worked with large-format cameras and powerful artificial lighting, transforming molten metal, sparks, conveyor belts, and steam into scenes of cinematic spectacle. Yet people remained at the center of his vision. Workers were never reduced to cogs in the machine; instead, he portrayed them with dignity, giving industry a social context and emotional resonance. Broomfield carefully staged scenes, timed exposures with moments of movement, and used light with the discipline of a theatre director. He once described his task as making “the best of what we were good at.”

Broomfield’s photographs enjoyed renewed attention in the 2010s and 2020s, as exhibitions such as Industrial Sublime at the Victoria and Albert Museum and displays at The Photographers’ Gallery brought his work back into focus. A major V&A publication collecting over a hundred of his images has further cemented his reputation as Britain’s pre-eminent industrial photographer of the mid-twentieth century. Today, critics emphasize not only the aesthetic power of his pictures but also their historical resonance. They document a moment of industrial confidence and national identity that would soon give way to rapid change, leaving Broomfield’s luminous images as both art and testimony.