Documentary Tish captures the incredible story of a visionary photographer who used her lens to fight for social change and celebrate overlooked working-class lives.

Tish Murtha emerged from the North East in Margaret Thatcher’s Britain to expose class prejudices, unemployment, and the struggles and triumphs of her local community.

Now, her daughter, Ella Murtha, unlocks the doors to her mother's extraordinary long-hidden archive of black and white images.

How does it feel now your mam’s work is getting the recognition it deserves and is loved by so many people?

It feels overwhelming! It's brilliant that there is so much love for my mam and her work (which was my greatest wish), but I'm finding it quite devastating that she died feeling so worthless. She was the most wonderful mam (which I didn't always appreciate until it was too late), and I miss her so much.

When I was younger, she was so full of life and great fun to be around, and to watch the spark go out in her was absolutely heartbreaking. I just wish she knew how much she means to people, even those who never met her.

Tish’s star has grown so much over the last few years, what has that been like for you?

It has been a wild ride, but I was just so focused on getting my mam's place in photographic history restored. She always existed in it, but her page was lost, and I couldn't let that happen. It has been hard work to get to this point, and some of it has been a lot of fun, but it will always be very bittersweet without her. But I'm so proud that my mam is finally being recognised for her talent and that people are really connecting with her on so many different levels.

What do you love most about your mam’s photographs and how did she manage to capture the mood of the whole of the North East and working-class Britain in her work?

She just photographed what she knew, and that was people. She had always been a people watcher long before she ever picked up a camera, but once she discovered the magic of photography, she found her calling, and she could never be anything else. Her photos are almost autobiographical. There is a part of her in every image.

Do you have a favourite photograph of your mam's and if so, why?

It changes from day to day, depending on how I'm feeling but for my current mood, I would probably say the boy with a pigeon from the Elswick Revisited series.

We were walking to town one day when I was about 5 years old, and we met these three boys who each had a pigeon. They proudly showed them to us and took us up on the roof so we could see them fly and come back to them. It is a very vivid memory of mine, so I really love this photo.

Did you learn anything new about your mam whilst making it and speaking to the people who knew her during her most active period?

I learned what an amazing storyteller my mam was. She made it look easy, but there is so much skill involved. She managed to capture moments of pure magic effortlessly. After talking to everyone, I also learned just how strong she was.

I always knew she was one of a kind, but I realised that she had to be so tough from such a young age, or she just wouldn't have survived. She overcame so much and lived off her wits with this incredible energy that just propelled her. I hadn't realised how difficult things were for her as a working-class woman in a man's world, and I couldn't love her more for always knowing her own worth.

What do you think makes your mam's work just as relevant and true today as it was 40 years ago?

My mam's work remains painfully relevant for anyone who wants to understand the brutality of poverty and its lifelong generational impact. She was deeply worried that the pressures would always stay with the young people she photographed, having massive repercussions for years to come, and we are now living with the impact of the class warfare that Tish wrote about in her Youth Unemployment essay all those years ago.

What do you think your mam would have made of the documentary?

I actually think she would really like it. I know if she was unhappy in any way, she would find a way to let me know. When I was making the Youth Unemployment book back in 2017, I had submitted the final order to my publisher, and she suddenly appeared over my bed in the middle of the night and told me that it had to end with 'Cops Piss Off' so I got out of bed and re-jigged it all, and I've never had any other late-night visits since. I'll never know if I was dreaming or if she was really there, but I found it comforting and like she was guiding me. There have been so many instances where I have been wondering something about an image and then I suddenly find a newspaper cutting about it or a person connected to the picture gets in touch, so my questions get answered, and I'm sure she has had a hand in it all. I also think she would be a bit taken aback at the interest in her. She just kept herself to herself, so hopefully, once she got over the shock of that, she would have a good laugh and be proud of herself.

What are your hopes for the film and for Tish’s legacy?

My hopes for the film are that we get to show it all around the world. I think my mam's legacy is much larger than just her photos; she is keeping the fire burning in others, and inspiring a whole new generation of socially engaged photographers.