Mugshots of Law-Breaking Women from 1920s Australia

Editor’s Note: This story previously included photos that were modified beyond colourisation. These photos have since been removed from the article. We regret the error.

Some appear weary. Others stare down the camera’s lens in fear. Others flash a nonchalant smile, as though their arrest was nothing new. Each of these expressions were mostly worn a century ago by women who had broken the law around Sydney. They were brought into the Central police station, where an official police photographer captured them sitting in their cells. And now UK-based artist, Matt Loughrey, is bringing these lost moments to the present.

Loughrey is entirely self-taught in the process of colourisation, and has more recently embarked on an initiative to reanimate still images. Inspired by the years he spent living in Australia, he decided to direct his talents towards uncovering the nation’s unruly past. VICE spoke to him from his home in County Mayo, Ireland.

VICE: Hey Matt, what do you like about mugshots?
Matt Loughrey: Faces tell stories, it’s as simple as that. Landscapes and buildings, they’re inanimate and not really relatable, but when you’re looking at someone and you look at a face, you look at eyes—you feel a story of somebody. So faces were the way to go. And with mugshots: they’re the human condition at its most open. You’ve got nowhere to go, your time is being dictated to you, you’re not in control. It’s a time to be reflective. You’ve got two choices, haven’t you? You can be combative or you can submit. So when we’re in submission, we are open to the world.

When you see a mugshot, you see yourself, there’s no doubt. And when you show a mugshot, everyone wants to see it. The mugshot is the oracle of the human condition.

Why are Australian female convicts a good subject for your work?
It’s just so unusual to see lots of women all dressed really well to be in photos that are so self-reflective. The mug shot is a demeaning exercise, yet the women are so well-dressed. I find that polarising. It really adds to the viewer having to think about what they’re seeing. How can you be so exposed and yet be dressed so well?

Of all the stories behind these mugshots, which one struck you the most?
Alice Cooke stood out. She’s a young woman, and I think one of the most potentially harmful people in that whole series of pictures—yet she hasn’t been going around stabbing people or harming children. She’s the eternal con artist. She didn’t strike me as a fantasist, she struck me as a sociopath. She has all these assumed identities, false identities, and a number of marriages. That’s wickedness: you don’t do it because you believe it; you do it because you’re getting something out of it.

Was there a mugshot in this series that you found particularly harrowing?The woman who attempted to procure a miscarriage—that’s a really stark image. You can’t judge a person by the face, but you can see them laid bare. You can tell that she knew what was up, like a deer in headlights, and you can see that. The thing is that no one knows what’s going on in people’s lives. There could be some really private, really personal, tragic things that have led to this moment.

Which photo did you think contrasted most severely with the crime?Barbara Turner. It’s kind of hard to tell if she’s playing everyone for a fool, or if she’s actually been caught, because she’s so good at what she does. She’s like this confidence trickster. I think her face says a lot, but it says maybe a lot about the crimes she used to do by pretending to be the victim. Or maybe she’s actually just been caught.

Was there ever an image you were hesitant to work with?
In this collection: no. I wasn’t hesitant in the least about any of them, because I saw this running theme of crime and punishment. But in general: yeah, I’ve had two or three occasions when someone really got the wrong end of the stick in terms of the services I offer. The last one was just a few days ago. Some pervert wanted a picture animated, you know?

Can you tell me what happened?
Well, he could have caused a bit of a problem. He’s a legit photographer; he works for businesses, has lots of good press on his website and he’s respected. He came to me asking me to do something. It was very clearly an ex-friend and it was sick. He was so thorough and methodical about the things he wanted this animation to do. I wrote a very polite “no.”

Was that the most memorable client you’ve had?
No, Jeff Bridges has a piece of my work. I thought it was a joke, but it wasn’t, it was legit. It was arranged through his publicist. That was kind of cool.

What else has been memorable?
I also work on some very confidential material. I work on missing persons cases for law enforcement, and that can be very interesting and official work, for great reasons. In the past I was doing it to aid documentaries about unsolved crimes, things like that. I ended up working with the nephew of Clarence and John Anglin, who’d escaped to Alcatraz. It was two years of sporadic assignments on the Anglin brothers and I got to see stuff that no-one’s ever seen.

When it comes to public interest cases, you get to know things that the public at large does not. So while there’s debate going on in mainstream media about historical cases, sometimes I found myself knowing far more. I’ll know if something is literally true or false. Make no mistake, Clarence and John Anglin got off Alcatraz island and lived a happy life for themselves.

Regarding colourisation in general, what do you hope your work can achieve?
We’re at a crossroads—and we have been for probably the best part of a decade—where new media is running out of steam in regards to creative use of existing imagery. And it’s all down to what I call “image obsolescence”.

There are options available to production companies, which can see great change, instead of this Ken Burns-esque pan zooming of historical photos. We can bring people to life, we can bring this material to all corners of education and get young people interested in history, instead of being bored to death looking at textbooks.

Colourisation is a great vehicle for the delivery of history, and more and more people are subscribing to that idea.

Visit Matt Loughrey’s website or Instagram for more information on his services in colourisation and restoration.

Interview by Eliza Mcphail