TIMELINE OF WORLD HISTORY
 

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  History of photography

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CONTENTS
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History of photography
 
 
     
Abbe James
ABBOTT BERENICE
ADAMS ANSEL
Allen Albert
ARBUS DIANE
ATGET EUGENE
AVEDON RICHARD
Bailey David
BEATO FELICE

Beaton Cecil
BELLOCQ E. J.
BING ILSE  
BLOSSFELDT KARL
BLUMENFELD ERWIN
BOURKE-WHITE
BRADY MATHEW
BRANDT BILL
BRASSAI
BRAVO MANUEL
CALLAHAN HARRY
CAMERON JULIA
CLERGUE LUCIEN
Cunningham Imogen
Carroll Lewis
     
DOISNEAU ROBERT
Drtikol Frantisek
Duhrkoop Rudolf
DUNCAN DOUGLAS
Eisenstaedt Alfred
EVANS WALKER
Feininger  Andreas
FRISSELL TONI
GENTHE ARNOLD
     
Halsman Philippe
HAUSMANN RAOUL
Heartfield John
HINE LEWIS
Horst P. Horst
KARSH YOUSUF
Kasebier Gertrude
KERTESZ ANDRE
Kirkland Douglas
KLEIN WILLIAM
KOUDELKA JOSEF
Lartigue Jacques Henri
Laughlin Clarence John

 

     
Maar Dora
Man Ray
McBEAN ANGUS
MEYER ADOLF

Miller Lee
MODOTTI TINA
MOHOLY-NAGY LAZLO
Munkacsi Martin
MURAY NICKOLAS
MUYBRIDGE EADWEARD
NADAR
NEWMAN ARNOLD

 

Outerbridge Paul
     
PARKS GORDON

 

REJLANDER OSCAR
RIIS JACOB
ROBINSON HENRY
Rodchenko Alexander
SANDER AUGUST
SHERMAN CINDY
Skoglund Sandy
Smith William Eugene
Smith Rodney
STEICHEN EDWARD
STIEGLITZ ALFRED
     
Tabard Maurice
TEIGE KAREL
UELSMANN JERRY VALLOU DE VILLENEUVE JULIEN
     
  Watson Albert
WEEGEE (ARTHUR FELLIG)
WESTON EDWARD
 
     
 
 
PHOTOJOURNALISM
 
 
From the outset, photography served the press. Within weeks after the French government’s announcement of the process in 1839, magazines were publishing woodcuts or lithographs with the byline “from a daguerreotype.” In fact, the two earliest illustrated weeklies—The Illustrated London News, which started in May 1842, and L’Illustration, based in Paris from its first issue in March 1843—owe their origin to the same cultural forces that made possible the invention of photography. Early reproductions generally carried little of the conviction of the original photograph, however.

Photography as an adjunct of war reportage began when Roger Fenton sailed from London to the Crimea to photograph the war between England, Russia, and Turkey in 1855. He was sent to provide visual evidence to counter the caustic written reports dispatched by William Russell, war correspondent for The Times of London, criticizing military mismanagement and the inadequate, unsanitary living conditions of the soldiers. Despite the difficulties of developing wet-collodion plates with impure water, in high temperatures, and under enemy fire, during his four-month stay Fenton produced 360 photographs, the first large-scale camera documentation of a war. Crimean War imagery was also captured by British photographer James Robertson, who later traveled to India with an associate, Felice Beato, to record the aftermath of the Indian Mutiny of 1857–58.

When the Civil War broke out in the United States, Mathew B. Brady, a New York City daguerreotypist and portraitist, conceived the bold plan of making a photographic record of the hostilities. When told the government could not finance such an undertaking, he invested his own savings in the project, expecting to recover his outlay by selling thousands of prints. Brady and his crew of about 20 photographers—among them Alexander Gardner and Timothy H. O’Sullivan, who both left his employ in the midst of hostilities—produced an amazing record of the battlefield. At his New York gallery, Brady showed pictures of the dead at Antietam. The New York Times reported on October 20, 1862:

Mr. Brady has done something to bring home to us the terrible reality and earnestness of war. If he has not brought bodies and laid them in our dooryards and along the streets, he has done something very like it.…It seems somewhat singular that the same sun that looked down on the faces of the slain, blistering them, blotting out from the bodies all semblance to humanity, and hastening corruption, should have thus caught their features upon canvas, and given them perpetuity for ever. But so it is.

Throughout the remainder of the 19th century, intermittent conflicts in Asia and Africa arising from imperialist ambitions were documented by photographers working for news media and for companies that manufactured stereographs. For the most part, war images were accepted as truthful depictions of painful events. However, after images of the Communard uprising in Paris in 1871 were shown to have been doctored, the veracity of such camera documentation no longer could be taken for granted.

Regular use of photographs in magazines began with the perfection of the halftone process, which allowed the camera image to be printed at the same time as the type and thereby reduced the cost of reproduction. The first newspaper halftone in the United States appeared in 1888, and shortly thereafter newspapers turned to photography for reporting topical events, making the profession of newspaper illustrator obsolete. Although technical advances improved reproduction quality, apart from impressive examples of combat photography, the subjects and styles of early journalistic photography were generally unimaginative and dull.

 
 
Roger Fenton
Roger Fenton, (born 1819, Heywood, near Rochdale, Lancashire, England—died August 8, 1869, London), English photographer best known for his pictures of the Crimean War, which were the first extensive photographic documents of a war.

Fenton studied painting and then law. Following a trip in 1851 to Paris, where he probably visited with the photographer Gustave Le Gray, he returned to England and was inspired to pursue photography. In the winter of 1855 his governmental connections as the founder (1853) and first honorary secretary of the Royal Photographic Society helped him gain an appointment as official photographer of the Crimean War. Fenton and his assistant, Marcus Sparling, arrived on the ship Hecla and set up their darkroom in a wagon. Using the wet-collodion photographic process of the times, they took approximately 360 photographs of the war. As an agent of the government, however, Fenton portrayed only the “acceptable” parts of the conflict. Even the disastrous charge of the Light Brigade—so movingly recounted by Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem of the same name—was depicted as glorious. Although little of the real action or agony of war was shown, the images were nevertheless the first to depict the more mundane aspects of modern warfare.

Upon Fenton’s return to England, his war images were successfully exhibited in London and Paris, and wood engravings of the particularly notable photographs were printed in the Illustrated London News. Fenton continued to photograph architecture and landscapes until 1862, when he retired from photography and returned to practicing law.



Roger Fenton
Marcus Sparling seated on Roger Fenton's photographic van, Crimea, 1855.

 
 
 
 
Portraits on Paper: Collodion - Albumen
 

For commercial portraitists, Frederick Scott Archer's invention of the collodion negative seemed at first to solve all problems. The glass plate made possible both sharp definition and easy duplication of numbers of prints on paper from one negative, while the awkward chemical procedures that the wet-plate process entailed were minimized in a studio setting. Collodion opened up an era of commercial expansion, attracting to the profession many pho-tographers who resorted to all manner of inducements to entice sitters—among them elegantly appointed studios; likenesses to be printed on porcelain, fabric, and other unusual substances, as well as on paper; or set into jewelry; photosculpture; and the most popular caprice of them all—the carte-de-visite.

But before public acceptance of paper portraiture was established, photographers were occupied for a number of years with a half-way process, in which the collodion glass negative was used to create a one-of-a-kind image that was less costly than the daguerreotype. While both Talbot and Archer had been aware that a bleached or underexposed glass negative could be converted to a positive by backing the glass with opaque material (paper or fabric) or varnish, the patent for this anomaly was taken out by an American, James Ambrose Cutting, in 1854. Called ambrotypes in the United States and collodion positives in Great Britain, these glass images were made in the same size as daguerreotypes and were similarly treated— hand-colored, framed behind glass, and housed in a slim case. In an unusual cultural lag, Japanese photographers adopted and used this technique until the turn of the century, long after it had been discarded in Europe and the United States. Framed in traditional kiriwood boxes, the portraits were commissioned by Japanese sitters rather than intended for sale to foreign visitors.



Unknown Photographer (American). Untitled Portrait, c. 1858.
Ambrotype with backing partially removed to show positive and negative effect.
Gemsheim Collection, Humanities Research Center, University of Texas, Austin.

By the mid-1850s, when this process was supplanting the metal image in Europe (though not yet in the United States), the case-making industry was expanding. The earliest daguerreotypes had been enclosed in cases of papier mache or wood covered with embossed paper or leather and usually were lined with silk, in Europe and velvet in the United States, when they were not encased in lockets, brooches, and watchcases. In 1854, the "union" case was introduced. Made in the United States of a mixture of sawdust and shellac, these early thermoplastic holders were exported globally, eventually becoming available in a choice of about 800 different molded designs.

The tintype, even less expensive than the ambrotype (to which it was technically similar), was patented in 1856 by an American professor at Kenyon College in Ohio. Like die daguerreotype, it was a one-of-a-kind image on a varnished metal plate (iron instead of silvered copper) that had been coated with black lacquer and sensitized collodion. Dull gray in tone without the sheen of the mirrorlike daguerreotype, the tintype was both lightweight and cheap, making it an ideal form for travelers and Civil War soldiers, many of whom were pictured in their encampments by roving photographers with wagon darkrooms.

The combination of a negative on glass coated with sensitized collodion and a print on paper coated with sensitized albumen—the collodion/albumen process— made commercial portraiture possible on a previously undreamed-of scale, despite the fact that the prints themselves were subject to fading and discoloration. From the 1850s until the 1880s, studios in the major capitals of the world invested in ever-more elegant and unusual furnishings in order to attract a well-paying clientele. As the display of status through attire and props grew more prominent, the goal of revealing character became secondary, and portraits often seemed merely to be topographies of face and body, "dull, dead, unfeeling, inauspicious," as expressed in the words of the time.

The skillful handling of pose, lighting, props, and decor visible in the works of the highly regarded European portraitists Franz Hanfstaengl, Antoine Samuel Adam-Salomon, and Camille Silvy became models for emulation. Hanfstaengl, already renowned as a lithographer, opened a photographic art studio in Munich in 1853. He soon won acclaim internationally for the tasteful poses, modulated lighting, and exceptional richness of his prints on toned albumen paper, as exemplified by Man with Hat.



FRANZ HANFSTAENGL. Man with Hat, 1857. Salt print.
Agfa-Gevaert Foto-Historama, Cologne, Germany.


Hanfstaengl's earlier work—exhibited at the 1855 Exposition Universelle in Paris, where it was criticized for extensive retouching on the negative—is believed to have inspired Adam-Salomon to change his profession from sculptor to photographer. The poses (modeled on antique sculpture) preferred by Adam-Salomon and his penchant for luxurious fabrics and props appealed to the materialistic French bourgeoisie of the Second Empire. The photographer's heavy hand with the retouching brush—the only thing considered disagreeable about his work—is apparent in the lighter tonality behind the figure in this image of his daughter.

 


ANTOINE SAMUEL ADAM-SALOMON. Portrait of a Girl, c. 1862.
Albumen print. Daniel Wolf, Inc., New York.
 

Besides attesting to the sitter's status, props and poses could offer clues to personality, enriching the image psychologically and visually. The oval picture frame used coyly as a lorgnette and the revealing drapery in the portrait of the Countess Castiglione by Louis Pierson, a partner in the Paris studio of Mayer Brothers and Pierson, suggest the seductive personality of Napoleon Ill's mistress (who was rumored to be an Italian spy). Oscar Gustav Rejlander's portrait of Lewis Carroll (the Reverend Charles L. Dodgson—pi. no. 57), which depicts the author of Alice in Wonderland holding a lens and polishing cloth, suggests through his expression and demeanor the sense of propriety that Carroll believed he was bringing to his photography. This work is one of Rejlander's numerous portraits, which include images of friends as well as amusing views of himself, his female companion, and the children who figured in the genre scenes for which he is better known.



LOUIS PIERSON. Countess Castiglione, c. 1860.
Albumen print (previously attributed to Adolphe Braun).
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; David Hunter McAlpin Fund, 1947.


 

As studio photography preempted the role of the portrait painter, the aesthetic standards of handmade likenesses were embraced by the photographic portraitists. Manuals appeared early in the daguerreotype era and continued through the collodion period (and into the 20th century), giving directions for appropriate dress and the correct colors to be worn to take advantage of the limited sensitivity of daguerreotype and glass plates. Included also were instructions for the proper attitudes that sitters should assume when posing. Because the public still believed that hand-painted portraits were more prestigious than photographs, likenesses often were painted over in watercolors, oils, or pastels, without entirely obliterating the underlying trace of the camera image, as in a typical example from the studio of T. Z. Vogel and C. Reichardt, in Venice.

Meanwhile, the professional portrait painter, aware of the public appetite for exactitude, found the photograph a convenient crutch, not just for copying the features but actually for painting upon. Projection from glass positives to canvas was possible as early as 1853; shortly afterward, several versions of solar projection enlargers—including one patented in 1857 by David Woodward, a professor of fine arts in Baltimore—simplified enlargement onto sensitized paper and canvas. When partially developed, the image could be completely covered with paint—as X-rays have disclosed was the case in the life-size painted portrait of Lincoln by Alexander Francois. This practice, common in the last half of the 19th century, was not considered reprehensible because in die view of many painters the role of photography was to be the artist's helpmate in creative handwork. Although such photographic "underpainting'' was rarely acknowledged, the desire for verisimilitude on the part of painter and public and the hope for artistic status on the part of the photographer resulted in a hybrid form of portraiture—part photochemical and part handwork.

In 1844 Pierre-Louis Pierson began operating a studio in Paris that specialized in hand-colored daguerreotypes. In 1855 he entered into a partnership with Léopold Ernest and Louis Frederic Mayer, who also ran a daguerreotype studio. The Mayers had been named "Photographers of His Majesty the Emperor" by Napoleon III the year before Pierson joined them. Although the studios remained at separate addresses, Pierson and the Mayers began to distribute their images under the joint title "Mayer et Pierson," and together they became the leading society photographers in Paris.
Pierson's 1861 photographs of the family and court of Napoleon III sold very well to the public. Pierson and Leopold Mayer soon opened another studio in Brussels, Belgium, and began photographing other European royalty. After Mayer's retirement in 1878, Pierson went into business with his son-in-law Gaston Braun, whose father was the photographer Adolphe Braun.


LOUIS PIERSON. La comtesse de Castiglione
1895


LOUIS PIERSON. La Normandie
1895


LOUIS PIERSON. Reflet de Miroir de Police Vaurien
Profil dans la glace des deux bras de la Police
1894


OSCAR GUSTAV REJLANDER. Lewis Carroll (Rev. Charles L. Dodgson), March 28,1863.
Albumen print. Gernsheim Collection, Humanities Research Center, University of Texas, Austin.



ALEXANDER FRANCOIS. Abraham Lincoln, n.d. Oil on canvas.
Collection George R. Rinhart.

Carte-de-visite and Celebrity Portraits

With the possibility of endless replication from the collodion negative, it was only a matter of time before a pocket-size paper portrait was devised. Suggestions along this line, made by several photographers in Europe and the United States, included the substitution of a likeness for the name and address on a calling card—the traditional manner of introducing oneself among middle- and upper-class gentry—and the affixing of small portraits to licenses, passports, entry tickets, and other documents of a social nature. However, Andre Adolphe Disderi, a photographer of both portraits and genre scenes who also was active in improving processes and formulating aesthetic standards, patented the carte-de-visite portrait in 1854. This small image—3 1/2 x 21/2 inches, mounted on a slightly larger card—was produced by taking eight exposures during one sitting, using an ingenious sliding plate holder in a camera equipped with four lenses and a vertical and horizontal septum. A full-length view of the figure in more natural and relaxed positions became possible, and it was not necessary for each pose to be exactly the same, as can be seen in an uncut sheet of carte-de-visite portraits taken by Disderi.

The reasons why the carte portraits became so enormously popular after 1859 are not entirely clear, but for a considerable part of the next decade this inexpensive format captured the public imagination in much the same way the stereograph view had. Portrait studios every-where—in major cities and provincial villages—turned out millions of full- and bust-length images of working and trades people as well as of members of the bourgeoisie and aristocracy'. These could be sold inexpensively because unskilled labor cut the images apart after processing and pasted them on mounts on which trademarks or logos of the maker appeared either on the front of the card, discreetly placed below the image, or on the reverse. Frequently, elaborate displays of type and graphic art suggested the connections between photography and painting. Backgrounds still included painted gardens, balustrades, drapery swags, and furniture, but sitters also were posed against undecoratcd walls, and vignetting—in which the background was removed—was not uncommon. Adults displayed the tools of their trade, the marks of their pro-fession, and the emblems of their rank; children were shown with toys; and attention was paid to women's attire and hair arrangements. Nevertheless, apart from the informality of pose that imbues some of these images with a degree of freshness, carte portraits offered little compass for an imaginative approach to pose and lighting as a means of evoking character.



ANDRE ADOLFHE EUGENE DISDERI. Portrait of an Unidentified Woman, c. 1860-65.
Uncut albumen print from a carte-de-insite negative.
Gernsheim Collection, Humanities Research Center, University of Texas.
 

As their popularity continued, famous works of art, well-known monuments, portraits of celebrities and of fashionably attired women (at times pirated and reproduced from other cartes rather than from the original collodion negative) appeared on the market. That the wide dispersal of celebrity images had consequences beyor that of a pleasant pastime can be seen in the fact that already in the 1860s such images influenced the course of a public career. Both the moderately gifted Jenny Lind and the unexceptional Lola Montez became cult figures in the United States largely owing to their promotion through carte portraits. Lincoln is said to have ascribed his election to the Presidency at least in part to Brady's carte of him when he still was an unknown, and both the French and British Royal families permitted the sales of carte portraits of themselves; on the death of Prince Albert, for example. 70,000 likenesses of Queen Victoria's consort were sold. Cartes also took over the function formerly performed by lithographs and engravings in popularizing types of female beauty and fashionable attire. Silvy, a French photographer of artistic taste who in 1859 opened a studio in his lavishly decorated London residence, specialized in posing his upper-class sitters in front of mirrors so that the softly modulated lighting not only called attention to attire and hairstyle—fore and aft, so to speak—but surrounded them also with an aura of luxuriousness.

Cartes were avidly collected and exchanged, with ornate albums and special holders manufactured to satisfy the demand for gimmickry connected with the fad. This activity received a boost from the enthusiasm of Queen Victoria, who accumulated more than one hundred albums of portraits of European royalty and distinguished personages. Indeed, the British royal family was so taken with photography that they not only commissioned numberless portraits but purchased genre images, sent photographs as state gifts, underwrote photographic ventures, and were patrons of The Photographic Society; in addition they installed a darkroom for their own use in Windsor Castle. British and French monarchs staunchly supported photography in general because it represented progress in the chemical sciences, which was emblematic of the prosperity brought to their respective nations, and also because the easily comprehended imagery accorded with the taste for verisimilitude evinced by the middle class and their royal leaders.



SPENCER Y CIA. Chilean Ladies, n.d. Albumen print.
Neikrug Photographica, Ltd., New York.
 

During the 1860s, portrait studios began to assemble a selection of individual likenesses on a single print. Produced by pasting together and rephotographing heads and portions of the torso from individual carte portraits, these composites paid scant attention to congruences of size and lighting, or to the representation of real-looking space. Designed as advertising publicity to acquaint the public with the range and quality of a particular studio's work, as in this example from the studio of a portrait photographer in Valparaiso and Santiago, Chile, the format was taken over as a means of producing thematic composites of political or theatrical figures that might be sold or given away as souvenirs.

One form of commercial exploitation of portrait photography in Europe that did not fare as well as cartes was called photosculpture. Invented by Francois Willeme in France in 1860, this three-dimensional image was produced by a company whose English branch briefly included the usually prudent Claudet as artistic director. The procedure necessitated a large circular studio in which 24 cameras were positioned to take simultaneous exposures of a centrally placed sitter. These were processed into lantern slides, projected, and traced in clay (or wood in one adaptation) with a pantograph, theoretically insuring a head start on exactitude for the sculptor. Despite royal patronage, photosculpture had a short life, although every once in a while this gimmick crops up again as an idea whose time has come.



UNKNOWN PHOTOGRAPHER (American).
Seventy Celebrated Americans Including All the Presidents, c. 1865.
Albumen print. Library Company of Philadelphia.
 

Editions of prints on paper in sizes and formats other than cartes also were popular from the 1860s on. Because the problems with albumen prints mentioned in Chapter I never were completely solved, carbon printing—often referred to as "permanent"—and Woodburytype reproduction were favored for the production of celebrity likenesses that appeared in the "galleries" and albums issued by photographers and publishers in western Europe and the United States. Well-known examples arc Hanfstaengl's Album der Zeitgnossen (Album of Contemporary Figures), portraits of German scientists, writers, and artists; the British Gallery of Photographic Portraits, undertaken by the studio of Joseph John Elliott and Clarence Edmund Fry (who encountered refusals from politicians who found their likenesses too realistic); and the Galerie des contemporaines (Gallery of Contemporaries)—initiated in 1859 in Paris by Pierre Petit. This project was a precursor of the highly regarded French series, Galerie contemporaine, litteraire, artistique (Contemporary Gallery of Writers and Artists), published intermittently by Goupil and Company between 1876 and 1884, to which all the major portraitists of the period contributed. Less concerned than most studio portraiture with fashionable decor and dress, this collection was "physiognomic" in intent—to evoke the character of the giants of French literar)' and artistic life through pose and expression, as in the commanding presence projected in Etienne Carjat's portrait of Victor Hugo. Other such publications catered to the taste for elaborate decor, as in Adolphe Jean Francois Marin Dallemagne's Galerie des artistes contemporaines (Gallery of Contemporary Artists) of 1866, a group of 50 portraits of artists shown posing in trompe l' oeil frames that are suggestive of the conceits of baroque portrait painting.
 


ADOLPHE JEAN FRANCOIS MARIN DALLEMAGNE. Gallery of Contemporary Artists, c. 1866.
Albumen prints assembled into Galerie des artistes contemporaines.
Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris.

The best-known photographer of French intellectual, literary, and artistic figures during the collodion era is Gaspard Felix Tournachon, known as Nadar (see Profile). His aim in portraiture was to seek, as he wrote, "that instant of understanding that puts you in touch with the model—helps you sum him up, guides you to his habits, his ideas, and character and enables you to produce ... a really convincing and sympathetic likeness, an intimate portrait." One example—a portrait of the young Sarah Bernhardt in 1865—typifies Nadar's ability to organize the baroque forms of drapery, a truncated classical column, and die dramatic contrasts of hair and skin and still suggest character—in this case both the theatricality and vulnerability of a young actress who had just achieved her first stage success. As French art critic Philippe Burty wrote of Nadar's entries exhibited at the Sodete Frangaise de Photographic exhibition in 1859, "his portraits arc works of art in every accepted sense of the word," adding that "if photography is by no means a complete art, the photographer always has the right to be an artist." Nadar's later output included many unexceptional portraits of entertainers and modishly dressed women, a direction necessitated by the demands of the middle class for glamorous images that became even more marked when his son Paul took control of the studio in the late 1880s. The style of Paul Nadar's portrait of the royal mistress Lillie Langtry, like that of contemporaries such as Charles and Emile Reutlinger whose firm began to specialize in fashion photography in the same years, was oriented toward evoking glamour by seductive pose, bland expression, and attention to elegant attire.
 


REUTLINGER STUDIO. Mlle. Elven, 1883.
Albumen or gelatin silver print. Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris.
 


PAUL NADAR (1856-1939). Lillie Langtry, n.d.
Gelatin silver print. Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris.
 


NADAR (GASPARD FELIX TOURNACHON). Sarah Bernhardt, 1865.
Albumen print. Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris.

 
 
 
Carte-de-visite and Celebrity Portraits

By the time collodion/albumen photographs had begun to displace daguerreotypes and ambrotypes in the United States, the Civil War had erupted, relegating portraiture to a secondary place in the minds of many photographers. Brady, whose Washington studio had been opened in 1858 to take advantage of the concentration of political figures in the Capital, turned his attention to war reportage, but continued to make portraits. In addition, Lincoln, his family, the Cabinet members and the Army generals all sat for other well-known portraitists, among them Alexander Gardner, a former manager of Brady's Washington gallery who took what may be the last likeness of the President in April, 1865, shortly before his assassination.

In the period after the Civil War, besides cartes and cabinet-size images (approximately 4 x 5 1/2 inches, mounted on a slightly bigger card), larger formats called Promenade, Boudoir, and Imperial Panel were introduced to appeal to the newly rich bourgeoisie that had emerged. Fashionable portrait studios in large cities, among them Fredericks, Gurney, Falk and Kurtz in New York, Gutckunst in Philadelphia, and Bachrach in Baltimore, served as pacesetters in terms of pose, decor, lighting, and the manner of presenting the finished image. As in Europe, there was a demand for images of theatrical and entertainment personalities that was satisfied in the main by the New York studios of Napoleon Sarony and his competitor Jose Mora. A prominent lithographer before the War, Sarony made over 40,000 negatives of celebrities, some of whom were paid extravagantly for the sitting. The eclectic decor visible in his images of Sarah Bernhardt and strongman Eugene Sandow necessitated a large collection of fusty props and led to a reference to his studio as a "dumping ground .. . for unsaleable idols, tattered tapestry and indigent crocodiles."

   
  Alexander Gardner (1821 – 1882)

Alexander Gardner was an American photographer. He is best known for his photographs of the American Civil War and his portraits of American President Abraham Lincoln.
Gardner was born in Paisley, Scotland, in 1821. He became an apprentice silversmith jeweler at the age of fourteen. Gardner had a Calvinist upbringing and was influenced by the work of Robert Owen, Welsh socialist and father of the cooperative movement. By adulthood he desired to create a cooperative in the United States that would incorporate socialist values. In 1850, Gardner and others purchased land near Monona, Iowa, for this purpose, but Gardner never lived there, choosing to return to Scotland to raise more money. He stayed there until 1856, becoming owner and editor of the Glasgow Sentinel in 1851. Visiting The Great Exhibition in 1851 in Hyde Park, London, he saw the photography of American Mathew Brady, and thus began his interest in the subject.
Gardner and his family moved to the United States in 1856. Finding that many friends and family members at the cooperative he had helped to form were dead or dying of tuberculosis, he stayed in New York. He initiated contact with Brady and came to work for him, eventually managing Brady's Washington, D.C., gallery.

Unfortunately, the most famous of Gardner's work has been proven to be a fake. In 1961, Frederic Ray of the Civil War Times magazine compared several of Gardner's photos showing Confederate snipers and realized that the same body has been photographed in multiple locations. Apparently, Gardner was not satisfied with the subject matter as it was presented to him and dragged the body around to create his own version of reality. Ray's analysis was expanded on by the author William Frassanito in 1975.
Abraham Lincoln became an American President in the November, 1860 election, and along with his appointment came the threat of war. Gardner, being in Washington, was well-positioned for these events, and his popularity rose as a portrait photographer, capturing the visages of soldiers leaving for war.
Brady had had the idea to photograph the Civil War. Gardner's relationship with Allan Pinkerton (who was head of an intelligence operation that would become the Secret Service) was the key to communicating Brady's ideas to Lincoln. Pinkerton recommended Gardner for the position of chief photographer under the jurisdiction of the U.S. Topographical Engineers. Following that short appointment, Gardner became a staff photographer under General George B. McClellan, commander of the Army of the Potomac. At this point, Gardner's management of Brady's gallery ended. The honorary rank of captain was bestowed upon Gardner, and he photographed the Battle of Antietam in September 1862, developing photos in his traveling darkroom.
Gardner worked for the photographer Mathew Brady from 1856 to 1862. According to a New York Times review, Gardner has often had his work misattributed to Brady, and despite his considerable output, historians have tended to give Gardner less than full recognition for his documentation of the Civil War.
Lincoln dismissed McClellan from command of the Army of the Potomac in November 1862, and Gardner’s role as chief army photographer diminished. About this time, Gardner ended his working relationship with Brady, probably in part because of Brady's practice of attributing his employees' work as "Photographed by Brady". That winter, Gardner followed General Ambrose Burnside, photographing the Battle of Fredericksburg. Next, he followed General Joseph Hooker. In May 1863, Gardner and his brother James opened their own studio in Washington, D.C, hiring many of Brady's former staff. Gardner photographed the Battle of Gettysburg (July 1863) and the Siege of Petersburg (June 1864–April 1865) during this time.
He published a two-volume work: Gardner's Photographic Sketch Book of the Civil War in 1866. Each volume contained 50 hand-mounted original prints. Not all photographs were Gardner's; he credited the negative producer and the positive print printer. As the employer, Gardner owned the work produced, like any modern day studio. The sketchbook contained work by Timothy H. O'Sullivan, James F. Gibson, John Reekie, William R. Pywell, James Gardner (his brother), John Wood, George N. Barnard, David Knox and David Woodbury among others. A century later, photographic analysis suggested that Gardner had manipulated the setting of at least one of his Civil War photos by moving a soldier's corpse and weapon into more dramatic positions.
Among his photographs of Abraham Lincoln were the last to be taken of the President, four days before his assassination. He also documented Lincoln's funeral, and photographed the conspirators involved (with John Wilkes Booth) in Lincoln's assassination. Gardner was the only photographer allowed at their execution by hanging, photographs of which would later be translated into woodcuts for publication in Harper's Weekly.
Gardner was commissioned to photograph Native Americans who came to Washington to discuss treaties; and he surveyed the proposed route of the Kansas Pacific railroad to the Pacific Ocean. Many of his photos were stereoscopic. After 1871, Gardner gave up photography and helped to found an insurance company. Gardner stayed in Washington until his death.



ALEXANDER GARDNER. Abraham Lincoln, April, 1865.
Albumen print. Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

Alexander Gardner was an American photographer. He is best known for his photographs of the American Civil War and his portraits of American President Abraham Lincoln.

Gardner was born in Paisley, Scotland, in 1821. He became an apprentice silversmith jeweler at the age of fourteen. Gardner had a Calvinist upbringing and was influenced by the work of Robert Owen, Welsh socialist and father of the cooperative movement. By adulthood he desired to create a cooperative in the United States that would incorporate socialist values. In 1850, Gardner and others purchased land near Monona, Iowa, for this purpose, but Gardner never lived there, choosing to return to Scotland to raise more money. He stayed there until 1856, becoming owner and editor of the Glasgow Sentinel in 1851. Visiting The Great Exhibition in 1851 in Hyde Park, London, he saw the photography of American Mathew Brady, and thus began his interest in the subject.
Gardner and his family moved to the United States in 1856. Finding that many friends and family members at the cooperative he had helped to form were dead or dying of tuberculosis, he stayed in New York. He initiated contact with Brady and came to work for him, eventually managing Brady's Washington, D.C., gallery.
Unfortunately, the most famous of Gardner's work has been proven to be a fake. In 1961, Frederic Ray of the Civil War Times magazine compared several of Gardner's photos showing Confederate snipers and realized that the same body has been photographed in multiple locations. Apparently, Gardner was not satisfied with the subject matter as it was presented to him and dragged the body around to create his own version of reality. Ray's analysis was expanded on by the author William Frassanito in 1975.



ALEXANDER GARDNER. Lincoln and John Alexander McClernand, visiting the Antietam battlefield, 1862


Abraham Lincoln became an American President in the November, 1860 election, and along with his appointment came the threat of war. Gardner, being in Washington, was well-positioned for these events, and his popularity rose as a portrait photographer, capturing the visages of soldiers leaving for war.
Brady had had the idea to photograph the Civil War. Gardner's relationship with Allan Pinkerton (who was head of an intelligence operation that would become the Secret Service) was the key to communicating Brady's ideas to Lincoln. Pinkerton recommended Gardner for the position of chief photographer under the jurisdiction of the U.S. Topographical Engineers. Following that short appointment, Gardner became a staff photographer under General George B. McClellan, commander of the Army of the Potomac. At this point, Gardner's management of Brady's gallery ended. The honorary rank of captain was bestowed upon Gardner, and he photographed the Battle of Antietam in September 1862, developing photos in his traveling darkroom.
Gardner worked for the photographer Mathew Brady from 1856 to 1862. According to a New York Times review, Gardner has often had his work misattributed to Brady, and despite his considerable output, historians have tended to give Gardner less than full recognition for his documentation of the Civil War.



ALEXANDER GARDNER. Middle bridge over Antietam Creek, September 1862


Lincoln dismissed McClellan from command of the Army of the Potomac in November 1862, and Gardner’s role as chief army photographer diminished. About this time, Gardner ended his working relationship with Brady, probably in part because of Brady's practice of attributing his employees' work as "Photographed by Brady". That winter, Gardner followed General Ambrose Burnside, photographing the Battle of Fredericksburg. Next, he followed General Joseph Hooker. In May 1863, Gardner and his brother James opened their own studio in Washington, D.C, hiring many of Brady's former staff. Gardner photographed the Battle of Gettysburg (July 1863) and the Siege of Petersburg (June 1864–April 1865) during this time.
He published a two-volume work: Gardner's Photographic Sketch Book of the Civil War in 1866. Each volume contained 50 hand-mounted original prints. Not all photographs were Gardner's; he credited the negative producer and the positive print printer. As the employer, Gardner owned the work produced, like any modern day studio. The sketchbook contained work by Timothy H. O'Sullivan, James F. Gibson, John Reekie, William R. Pywell, James Gardner (his brother), John Wood, George N. Barnard, David Knox and David Woodbury among others. A century later, photographic analysis suggested that Gardner had manipulated the setting of at least one of his Civil War photos by moving a soldier's corpse and weapon into more dramatic positions.
Among his photographs of Abraham Lincoln were the last to be taken of the President, four days before his assassination. He also documented Lincoln's funeral, and photographed the conspirators involved (with John Wilkes Booth) in Lincoln's assassination. Gardner was the only photographer allowed at their execution by hanging, photographs of which would later be translated into woodcuts for publication in Harper's Weekly.
Gardner was commissioned to photograph Native Americans who came to Washington to discuss treaties; and he surveyed the proposed route of the Kansas Pacific railroad to the Pacific Ocean. Many of his photos were stereoscopic. After 1871, Gardner gave up photography and helped to found an insurance company. Gardner stayed in Washington until his death.



ALEXANDER GARDNER. Hanging at Washington Arsenal; Hooded Bodies of the Four Conspirators; Crowd Departing, Washington, D.C, July 7, 1865.
Albumen print. International Museum of Photography at George Eastman House, Rochester, N.Y.





ALEXANDER GARDNER. A Harvest of Death
1863




ALEXANDER GARDNER. Field Where General Reynolds Fell, Gettysburg
1863




ALEXANDER GARDNER. A Burial Party, Cold Harbor, Virginia
1865

 


ALEXANDER GARDNER. Many Horses, a Teton Lakota, photographed in 1872
 

Napoleon Sarony

(1821 – 1896) was an American lithographer and photographer. He was a highly popular and prolific portrait photographer, most known for his portraits of the stars of late 19th century American theater.
Sarony was born in Quebec in 1821 and moved to New York City around 1836. He worked as an illustrator for Currier and Ives before joining with James Major and starting his own lithography business, Sarony & Major, in 1843. In 1845, James Major was replaced by Henry B. Major in Sarony & Major and it continued operating under that name until 1853. From 1853 to 1857, the firm was known as Sarony and Company, and from 1857 to 1867, as Sarony, Major & Knapp. Sarony left the firm in 1867 and established a photography studio at 37 Union Square, during a time when celebrity portraiture was a popular fad. Photographers would pay their famous subjects to sit for them, and then retain full rights to sell the pictures. Sarony reportedly paid famed stage actress Sarah Bernhardt $1,500 to pose for his camera, the equivalent of more than $20,000 today.
One of Sarony's portraits of writer Oscar Wilde became the subject of a U.S. Supreme Court case, Burrow-Giles Lithographic Co. v. Sarony 111 U.S. 53(1884), in which the Court upheld the extension of copyright protection to photographs. Sarony sued Burrow-Giles after it used unauthorized lithographs of Oscar Wilde No. 18 in an advertisement, and won a judgment for $610 (the modern equivalent of just over $12,000) that was affirmed on appeal by the Second Circuit Court of Appeals and the Supreme Court. Sarony later photographed the Supreme Court itself, to celebrate the centennial of the federal judiciary in 1890.
Sarony was married twice. His first wife died in 1858; his second, Louie, reportedly shared his tendency towards eccentricity and preference for outlandish dress. She rented elaborate costumes that she wore during her daily afternoon walk through Washington Square, wearing them once before returning them.




NAPOLEON SARONY. Sarah Bernhardt

 


NAPOLEON SARONY. Sarah Bernhardt as Cleopatra
1891
 


NAPOLEON SARONY. Sarah Bernhardt Lounging
 


NAPOLEON SARONY. Entertainer Lottie Collins
1892
 


NAPOLEON SARONY. Lillie Langtry Tiger Rug Portrait
1882
 


NAPOLEON SARONY. Actress Dame Marie Tempest Portrait
1892
 


NAPOLEON SARONY. Oscar Wilde Full Length Standing Portrait
 


NAPOLEON SARONY. Oscar Wilde
1882
 


NAPOLEON SARONY. Oscar Wilde
1882




NAPOLEON SARONY. Oscar Wilde




NAPOLEON SARONY. Oscar Wilde

 


NAPOLEON SARONY. Actress Minnie Maddern Fiske Portrait
1897




NAPOLEON SARONY. Actress Wrapped in a Blanket During a "Snowstorm"





NAPOLEON SARONY. Victorian Bodybuilder Eugen Sandow
1893

 

During the last 40 years of the 19th century, portraiture expanded more rapidly in the less-industrialized portions of Europe, and in Australia, India, China, Japan, Mexico, and South America. Owing to the fact that owners of commercial studios in provincial towns frequently served a clientele drawn from all classes, they sometimes produced extensive documentations not only of physiognomies but of social and psychological attitudes. One such example is the large output of portraits by Danish photographer Heinrich Tonnics, working in Aalborg from the 1860s into the 1900s, which includes some 750 portraits of working people attired in the garments and displaying the tools of their occupations. Despite the formality of the poses in studio settings, these images are not merely descriptive but suggest prevailing attitudes toward work on the part of both photographer and sitters. In some localities, patriots saw the camera as a means of emphasizing ethnic or national origin. A fine line may separate the portrait taken by Polish photographer Awit Szubert of his wife in native dress from many similar images of locally costumed figures that were made and sold in carte and cabinet size for the tourist trade, but even in some of these images a sense of national pride is discernible.



HEINRICH TONNIES. Four Young Blacksmiths, c. 1881.
Modern gelatin silver print from original negative.
Formerly collection Alexander Alland, North Salem, N.Y.




AWIT SZUBERT. Amelia Szubert, c. 1875.
Albumen print. Collection Konrad Pollesch, Cracow;
International Center of Photography, New York.
 

Besides playing a role in the development of cultural nationalism in Europe, portraits also reflected the rising interest in anthropology, In the western hemisphere, early manifestations of the interest in native types included portraits of individual members of the Indian tribes indigenous to the West, made in the course of the land surveys and explorations that followed the end of the Civil War. In the wake of these expeditions, several frontier studios opened their doors to Native American sitters, among them that of Will Soule, in Fort Sill, Oklahoma, which specialized in commercial portrayals of individuals posed formally in front of painted backdrops, as in an 1868 photograph titled simply Brave in War Dress. In South America, Marc Ferrez, the best-known Brazilian photographer of the 19th century, photographed Indians of the Amazon region while on expeditions to the interior in the mid-1870s; in the same years strong interest in images of indigenous peoples prompted studios in Australia to photograph the Aborigines of the region.
 


WILL SOULE. Brave in War Dress, c. 1868.
Albumen print. Western History Collection,
Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County, Los Angeles.
 

 
 
Camera Portraits in Asia

The introduction of portrait photography in the Far East coincided with changes from insular traditionalism to the acceptance of modern ideas in science, symbolized by the 1854 American diplomatic ultimatum that Japan be opened to the West; indeed, the ideographs used to denote photograph in Japanese (shashin) literally mean "copy truth." The first portrait daguerreotypes made in that country appear to be those by Eliphalet Brown, Jr., American artist and photographer attached to Commodore Matthew Perry's expedition to Japan, but experimentation with the daguerreotype process had been going on since 1848 when a Nagasaki merchant imported the first camera.

However, successful daguerreotypes by Japanese photographers were not made until 1857, only a year before the first collodion portraits by a Japanese photographer. As shown in a woodblock print of 1861, French Couple with a Camera, photographers working in Japan during the early period were foreigners who not only provided views and portraits but taught the process to the Japanese. Apparently by the mid- to late-'70s they were so successful that professional studios were opened in all the major cities of Japan, with more than 100 in the Tokyo area alone; even the unapproachable royal family permitted members to sit for camera likenesses.



YOSHIKAZU ISSAN.
French Couple with a Camera Color woodblock print.
Agfa-Gevaert Foto-Historama, Cologne, Germany.
 

Although China remained isolated from Western ideas of progress longer than Japan, photographers from the West began to make portraits there, too, during the 1860s. Among the succession of foreigners, Milton Miller, a Californian who ran a studio in Hong Kong in the early 1860s, made formally posed yet sensitive portraits of Cantonese merchants, Mandarins, and their families, while the Scottish photographer John Thomson photographed workers and peasants as well, including their portraits in his ambitious four-volume work Illustrations of China and Its People, published in England in 1873/74. It is thought that native Chinese photographers were introduced to photography when they were employed during the 1850s as copyists and colorists in the Hong Kong studios run by foreigners, but while some 20 native studios with Chinese names are known, little else has been discovered about these portraists. The studio of Afong Lai appears to have been the most stable of the native-owned commercial enterprises, lasting from 1859 on into the 20th century and with the artistry of its work acclaimed by Thomson.

On the Indian subcontinent, however, photography in all its varieties, including portraiture, was promoted by the British occupying forces and eagerly taken up by Indian businessmen and members of the ruling families. Commercial firms owned by Indian photographers, individuals appointed by the courts, and those working in bazaars began to appear in large cities after the 1860s in order to supply the British and Indian ruling class with images of themselves. The most renowned enterprise was that started by Lala Deen Dayal, owner of studios in Indore, Bombay, and Hyderabad from the 1880s on, who became court photographer to the nizam of Hyderabad. Many portraits made in India during this period were painted over in the traditional decorative style of Indian miniatures, just as in the West painted camera portraits were treated naturalistically. This attitude toward the photographic portrait in India has led to the suggestion that the camera itself was used in a different fashion than in the West, that Indian photographers were somehow able to avoid the representation of space and dimensionality even before die paint was added. However, allowing for obvious differences in pose, dress, and studio decor, Indian photographic portraits that were not painted over do not seem remarkably different from the general run of commercial portraiture elsewhere.
 

The Portrait as Personal Expression

Alongside the likenesses produced by commercial studios, a more intimate style of portraiture developed in the work of amateurs-—men and women in mostly comfort-able circumstances who regarded photography as an agreeable pastime but did not make their living from it. During the 1860s and '70s this group—which included Olympe Count Aguado and Paul Gaillard on the Continent and Julia Margaret Cameron, Lewis Carroll, Cosmo Innes, and Clementina, Lady Hawarden, in Britain-—used the collodion process to portray family and associates, at times in elaborately casual poses, in actual domestic interiors and real gardens. When Carroll photographed his artistic and intellectual friends and their children, he favored the discreet and harmonious arrangements seen in his grouping of the Liddell sisters—Edith, Lorina, and Alice. At the same time, his stress on the virginal beauty of these young sitters reflects an ambivalence that embraced ideals of feminine innocence and his own deep-seated sexual needs.

 

Lewis Carroll


see also: Lewis Carroll - photographer
 

Lewis Carroll, pseudonym of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (born Jan. 27, 1832, Daresbury, Cheshire, Eng.—died Jan. 14, 1898, Guildford, Surrey), English logician, mathematician, photographer, and novelist, especially remembered for Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (1865) and its sequel, Through the Looking-Glass (1871). His poem The Hunting of the Snark (1876) is nonsense literature of the highest order.

Dodgson was the eldest son and third child in a family of seven girls and four boys born to Frances Jane Lutwidge, the wife of the Rev. Charles Dodgson. He was born in the old parsonage at Daresbury. His father was perpetual curate there from 1827 until 1843, when he became rector of Croft in Yorkshire—a post he held for the rest of his life (though later he became also archdeacon of Richmond and a canon of Ripon cathedral).

The Dodgson children, living as they did in an isolated country village, had few friends outside the family but, like many other families in similar circumstances, found little difficulty in entertaining themselves. Charles from the first showed a great aptitude for inventing games to amuse them. With the move to Croft when he was 12 came the beginning of the “Rectory Magazines,” manuscript compilations to which all the family were supposed to contribute. In fact, Charles wrote nearly all of those that survive, beginning with Useful and Instructive Poetry (1845; published 1954) and following with The Rectory Magazine (c. 1850, mostly unpublished), The Rectory Umbrella (1850–53), and Mischmasch (1853–62; published with The Rectory Umbrella in 1932).

Meanwhile, young Dodgson attended Richmond School, Yorkshire (1844–45), and then proceeded to Rugby School (1846–50). He disliked his four years at public school, principally because of his innate shyness, although he was also subjected to a certain amount of bullying; he also endured several illnesses, one of which left him deaf in one ear. After Rugby he spent a further year being tutored by his father, during which time he matriculated at Christ Church, Oxford (May 23, 1850). He went into residence as an undergraduate there on Jan. 24, 1851.



LEWIS CARROLL. Edith, Lorina and Alice Liddell
 

Dodgson excelled in his mathematical and classical studies in 1852; on the strength of his performance in examinations, he was nominated to a studentship (called a scholarship in other colleges). In 1854 he gained a first in mathematical Finals—coming out at the head of the class—and proceeded to a bachelor of arts degree in December of the same year. He was made a “Master of the House” and a senior student (called a fellow in other colleges) the following year and was appointed lecturer in mathematics (the equivalent of today’s tutor), a post he resigned in 1881. He held his studentship until the end of his life.

As was the case with all fellowships at that time, the studentship at Christ Church was dependent upon his remaining unmarried, and, by the terms of this particular endowment, proceeding to holy orders. Dodgson was ordained a deacon in the Church of England on Dec. 22, 1861. Had he gone on to become a priest he could have married and would then have been appointed to a parish by the college. But he felt himself unsuited for parish work and, though he considered the possibility of marriage, decided that he was perfectly content to remain a bachelor.

Dodgson’s association with children grew naturally enough out of his position as an eldest son with eight younger brothers and sisters. He also suffered from a bad stammer (which he never wholly overcame, although he was able to preach with considerable success in later life) and, like many others who suffer from the disability, found that he was able to speak naturally and easily to children. It is therefore not surprising that he should begin to entertain the children of Henry George Liddell, dean of Christ Church. Alice Liddell and her sisters Lorina and Edith were not, of course, the first of Dodgson’s child friends. They had been preceded or were overlapped by the children of the writer George Macdonald, the sons of the poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson, and various other chance acquaintances. But the Liddell children undoubtedly held an especially high place in his affections—partly because they were the only children in Christ Church, since only heads of houses were free both to marry and to continue in residence.

Properly chaperoned by their governess, Miss Prickett (nicknamed “Pricks”—“one of the thorny kind,” and so the prototype of the Red Queen in Through the Looking-Glass), the three little girls paid many visits to the young mathematics lecturer in his college rooms. As Alice remembered in 1932, they

used to sit on the big sofa on each side of him, while he told us stories, illustrating them by pencil or ink drawings as he went along . . . . He seemed to have an endless store of these fantastical tales, which he made up as he told them, drawing busily on a large sheet of paper all the time. They were not always entirely new. Sometimes they were new versions of old stories; sometimes they started on the old basis, but grew into new tales owing to the frequent interruptions which opened up fresh and undreamed-of possibilities.



LEWIS CARROLL. Alice Liddell, 1959
 

On July 4, 1862, Dodgson and his friend Robinson Duckworth, fellow of Trinity, rowed the three children up the Thames from Oxford to Godstow, picnicked on the bank, and returned to Christ Church late in the evening: “On which occasion,” wrote Dodgson in his diary, “I told them the fairy-tale of Alice’s Adventures Underground, which I undertook to write out for Alice.” Much of the story was based on a picnic a couple of weeks earlier when they had all been caught in the rain; for some reason, this inspired Dodgson to tell so much better a story than usual that both Duckworth and Alice noticed the difference, and Alice went so far as to cry, when they parted at the door of the deanery, “Oh, Mr. Dodgson, I wish you would write out Alice’s adventures for me!” Dodgson himself recollected in 1887

how, in a desperate attempt to strike out some new line of fairy-lore, I had sent my heroine straight down a rabbit-hole, to begin with, without the least idea what was to happen afterwards.

Dodgson was able to write down the story more or less as told and added to it several extra adventures that had been told on other occasions. He illustrated it with his own crude but distinctive drawings and gave the finished product to Alice Liddell, with no thought of hearing of it again. But the novelist Henry Kingsley, while visiting the deanery, chanced to pick it up from the drawing-room table, read it, and urged Mrs. Liddell to persuade the author to publish it. Dodgson, honestly surprised, consulted his friend George Macdonald, author of some of the best children’s stories of the period. Macdonald took it home to be read to his children, and his son Greville, aged six, declared that he “wished there were 60,000 volumes of it.”




LEWIS CARROLL. Alice Liddell
 

Accordingly, Dodgson revised it for publication. He cut out the more particular references to the previous picnic (they may be found in the facsimile of the original manuscript, later published by him as Alice’s Adventures Underground in 1886) and added some additional stories, told to the Liddells at other times, to make up a volume of the desired length. At Duckworth’s suggestion he got an introduction to John Tenniel, the Punch magazine cartoonist, whom he commissioned to make illustrations to his specification. The book was published as Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland in 1865. (The first edition was withdrawn because of bad printing, and only about 21 copies survive—one of the rare books of the 19th century—and the reprint was ready for publication by Christmas of the same year, though dated 1866.)

The book was a slow but steadily increasing success, and by the following year Dodgson was already considering a sequel to it, based on further stories told to the Liddells. The result was Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There (dated 1872; actually published December 1871), a work as good as, or better than, its predecessor.

By the time of Dodgson’s death, Alice (taking the two volumes as a single artistic triumph) had become the most popular children’s book in England: by the time of his centenary in 1932 it was one of the most popular and perhaps the most famous in the world.

There is no answer to the mystery of Alice’s success. Many explanations have been suggested, but, like the Mad Hatter’s riddle (“The riddle, as originally invented, had no answer at all”), they are no more than afterthoughts. The book is not an allegory; it has no hidden meaning or message, either religious, political, or psychological, as some have tried to prove; and its only undertones are some touches of gentle satire—on education for the children’s special benefit and on familiar university types, whom the Liddells may or may not have recognized. Various attempts have been made to solve the “riddle of Lewis Carroll” himself; these include the efforts to prove that his friendships with little girls were some sort of subconscious substitute for a married life, that he showed symptoms of jealousy when his favourites came to tell him that they were engaged to be married, that he contemplated marriage with some of them—notably with Alice Liddell. But there is little or no evidence to back up such theorizing. He in fact dropped the acquaintance of Alice Liddell when she was 12, as he did with most of his young friends. In the case of the Liddells, his friendship with the younger children, Rhoda and Violet, was cut short at the time of his skits on some of Dean Liddell’s Christ Church “reforms.” For besides children’s stories, Dodgson also produced humorous pamphlets on university affairs, which still make good reading. The best of these were collected by him as Notes by an Oxford Chiel (1874).



LEWIS CARROLL. Alice Liddell, 1858
 

Besides writing for them, Dodgson is also to be remembered as a fine photographer of children and of adults as well (notable portraits of the actress Ellen Terry, the poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson, the poet-painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti, and many others survive and have been often reproduced). Dodgson had an early ambition to be an artist: failing in this, he turned to photography. He photographed children in every possible costume and situation, finally making nude studies of them. But in 1880 Dodgson abandoned his hobby altogether, feeling that it was taking up too much time that might be better spent. Suggestions that this sudden decision was reached because of an impurity of motive for his nude studies have been made, but again without any evidence.

Before he had told the original tale of Alice’s Adventures, Dodgson had, in fact, published a number of humorous items in verse and prose and a few inferior serious poems. The earliest of these appeared anonymously, but in March 1856 a poem called “Solitude” was published over the pseudonym Lewis Carroll. Dodgson arrived at this pen name by taking his own names Charles Lutwidge, translating them into Latin as Carolus Ludovicus, then reversing and retranslating them into English. He used the name afterward for all his nonacademic works. As Charles L. Dodgson, he was the author of a fair number of books on mathematics, none of enduring importance, although Euclid and His Modern Rivals (1879) is of some historical interest.

His humorous and other verses were collected in 1869 as Phantasmagoria and Other Poems and later separated (with additions) as Rhyme? and Reason? (1883) and Three Sunsets and Other Poems (published posthumously, 1898). The 1883 volume also contained The Hunting of the Snark, a narrative nonsense poem that is rivalled only by the best of Edward Lear.

Later in life, Dodgson had attempted a return to the Alice vein but only produced Sylvie and Bruno (1889) and its second volume, Sylvie and Bruno Concluded (1893), which has been described aptly as “one of the most interesting failures in English literature.” This elaborate combination of fairy-tale, social novel, and collection of ethical discussions is unduly neglected and ridiculed. It presents the truest available portrait of the man. Alice, the perfect creation of the logical and mathematical mind applied to the pure and unadulterated amusement of children, was struck out of him as if by chance; while making full use of his specialized knowledge, it transcends his weaknesses and remains unique.

Roger Lancelyn Green



LEWIS CARROLL (REV. CHARLES L. DODGSON). Edith, Lorina, and Alice Liddell, c. 1859.
Albumen print. Photography Collection, Humanities Research Center, University of Texas, Austin.




Cameron

Cameron, the most widely known Victorian portraitist (usually considered an amateur even though she sold and exhibited her work), also used the camera to idealize her subjects. Seeking out men and women whose individuality or impressive artistic and literary contributions appeared to her to redeem the materialism of the time, she importuned them to pose so that she might record, in her words, "faithfully, the greatness of the inner as well as the features of the outer man." Avoiding sharp focus, she concentrated on the evocative handling of light, seen at its most effective in portraits of Sir John Herschel—a family friend of many years—and of her niece Julia Jackson, who had just wed Herbert Duckworth and was to be the mother of novelist Virginia Woolf.

Cameron's work, like that of Carroll, can be related to the Pre-Raphaelite search for ideal types, but her portrait style especially seems to have been inspired by the paintings of her artistic mentor, George Frederic Watts, which in turn reflected die taste among the British intelligentsia for Rembrandt-like chiaroscuro effects in the treatment of form. Critical reaction from Cameron's contemporaries was divided; while art critics for the general press and a number of photographers in England and abroad approved of her approach, the medium's most vocal propo-nents of art photography criticized the "slovenly manipulation" and regarded her work as "altogether repulsive."

Newly emerging scientific ideas provided still other uses for the photographic portrait during the collodion era. Aside from the documentation of strictly medical problems (skin lesions, hydrocephalism, etc.), the camera was called upon to document psychological reactions and mental aberrations. Dr. Hugh Welch Diamond, who be-came interested in the calotypc shortly after the announcement of Talbot's discovery, was one of the first to advocate such scientific documentation. After he was introduced to collodion by Archer—a former patient—he used the new technology to photograph female inmates in the Surrey Count}' Asylum, where he was superintendent. In a paper read to the Royal Society in 1856, Dr. Diamond outlined the relationship of photography to psychiatry, suggesting that portraits were useful in diagnosis, as treatment, and for administrative identification of the patients. In The Physiognomy of Insanity, illustrated with engravings based on Dr. Diamond's likenesses, physiognomic theories that had related photography to the depiction of normal character were extended to embrace the mentally abnormal.
 


JULIA MARGARET CAMERON. Sir John Herschel, April, 1867.
Albumen print. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; Gift of Mrs. J. D. Cameron Bradley.
 

Fleeting facial expressions were photographed in 1853 by Adrien Tournachon (brother of Felix) for a work on human physiognomy by the noted Dr. Guillaume Benjamin Duchenne de Boulogne, the founder of electrotherapy, and in 1872 Charles Darwin chose to use photographs to illustrate The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, for which he approached Rcjlander. In addition to images supplied by Duchenne, and by two lesser-known figures, the book included a series showing emotional states, and for five of them Rejlander himself posed as model. Despite the theatricality of a number of the expressions depicted in these portraits, the use of the camera image in this capacity relegated to a minor role the traditional graphic conventions for portraying the human passions.

In the 30 years following the discovery of photography, the camera portrait occupied center stage. Images on metal, glass, and paper provided likenesses for large numbers of people—the newly affluent as well as many who formerly could not have imagined commissioning a painted portrait. Many of these images can be regarded today as no more than "archeological relics," but in their time they served to make generations of sitters more aware of their position in society and of themselves as individuals, even when they glossed over physiological and psychological frailties. In addition, photographs taken at various stages of life—youth, middle age, and elderly—made people more conscious of mortality and their relationship to ephemeral time. The cult of individualism also was promoted by the practice of publishing and selling likenesses of famous persons. With the image as a surrogate, more people were made to feel closer to political and cultural figures, even while the likenesses themselves emphasized distinctiveness. On the whole, the general run of commercial camera portraiture is quickly exhausted in terms of insight or aesthetic interest, yet in the hands of creative individuals (both amateur and professional), among them Southworth and Hawes, Hill and Adamson, Cameron, Carroll, and Nadar, portraits seemed to distill an artistic ideal while still probing individual personality. The importance of studio portraiture was diminished by the invention of new cameras and technologies that permitted people to make likenesses of family and friends at home, but the portrait itself—as a mirror of personality, as an artistic artifact, and as an item of cultural communication—has remained an intriguing challenge to photographers.

Reverend Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (27 January 1832 – 14 January 1898), better known by the pen name Lewis Carroll, was an English author, mathematician, logician, Anglican clergyman and photographer.

His most famous writings are Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and its sequel Through the Looking-Glass as well as the poems "The Hunting of the Snark" and "Jabberwocky", all considered to be within the genre of literary nonsense.

His facility at word play, logic, and fantasy has delighted audiences ranging from children to the literary elite, and beyond this his work has become embedded deeply in modern culture, directly influencing many artists.



JULIA MARGARET CAMERON. My Niece Julia Jackson, 1867.
Albumen print. National Portrait Gallery, London.

   
  Julia Margaret Cameron

(From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia)

Julia Margaret Cameron (June 11, 1815 – January 26, 1879) was a British photographer. She became known for her portraits of celebrities of the time, and for Arthurian and similar legendary themed pictures.
Cameron's photographic career was short, spanning the last eleven years of her life. She did not take up photography until the age of 48, when she was given a camera as a present. Her work had a huge impact on the development of modern photography, especially her closely cropped portraits which are still mimicked today. Her house, Dimbola Lodge, on the Isle of Wight can still be visited.
Julia Margaret Cameron was born Julia Margaret Pattle in Calcutta, India, to James Pattle, a British official of the East India Company, and Adeline de l'Etang, a daughter of French aristocrats. Cameron was from a family of celebrated beauties, and was considered an ugly duckling among her sisters. As her great-niece Virginia Woolf wrote in 1926 introduction to the Hogarth Press collection of Cameron's photographs, "In the trio [of sisters] where...[one] was Beauty, and [one] Dash, Mrs. Cameron was undoubtedly Talent."
Julia was educated in France, but returned to India, and in 1838 married Charles Hay Cameron, a jurist and member of the Law Commission stationed in Calcutta, who was twenty years her senior. In 1848, Charles Hay Cameron retired, and the family moved to London, England. Cameron's sister, Sarah Prinsep, had been living in London and hosted a salon at Little Holland House, the dower house of Holland House in Kensington, where famous artists and writers regularly visited. In 1860, Cameron visited the estate of poet Alfred Lord Tennyson on the Isle of Wight. Julia was taken with the location, and the Cameron family purchased a property on the island soon after. They called it Dimbola Lodge after the family's Ceylon estate.
In 1863, when Cameron was 48 years old, her daughter gave her a camera as a present, thereby starting her career as a photographer. Within a year, Cameron became a member of the Photographic Societies of London and Scotland. In her photography, Cameron strove to capture beauty. She wrote, "I longed to arrest all the beauty that came before me and at length the longing has been satisfied."
The basic techniques of soft-focus "fancy portraits", which she later developed, were taught to her by David Wilkie Wynfield. She later wrote that "to my feeling about his beautiful photography I owed all my attempts and indeed consequently all my success".
Alfred Lord Tennyson, her neighbour on the Isle of Wight, often brought friends to see the photographer.
Cameron was sometimes obsessive about her new occupation, with subjects sitting for countless exposures in the blinding light as she laboriously coated, exposed, and processed each wet plate. The results were, in fact, unconventional in their intimacy and their particular visual habit of created blur through both long exposures, where the subject moved and by leaving the lens intentionally out of focus. This led some of her contemporaries to complain and even ridicule the work, but her friends and family were supportive, and she was one of the most prolific and advanced of amateurs in her time. Her enthusiasm for her craft meant that her children and others sometimes tired of her endless photographing, but it also means that we are left with some of the best of records of her children and of the many notable figures of the time who visited her.
During her career, Cameron registered each of her photographs with the copyright office and kept detailed records. Her shrewd business sense is one reason that so many of her works survive today. Another reason that many of Cameron's portraits are significant is because they are often the only existing photograph of historical figures. Many paintings and drawings exist, but, at the time, photography was still a new and challenging medium for someone outside a typical portrait studio.
The bulk of Cameron's photographs fit into two categories - closely framed portraits and illustrative allegories based on religious and literary works. In the allegorical works in particular, her artistic influence was clearly Pre-Raphaelite, with far-away looks and limp poses and soft lighting Cameron's sister ran the artistic scene at Little Holland House, which gave her many famous subjects for her portraits. Some of her famous subjects include: Charles Darwin, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, John Everett Millais, William Michael Rossetti, Edward Burne-Jones, Ellen Terry and George Frederic Watts. Most of these distinctive portraits are cropped closely around the subject's face and are in soft focus. Cameron was often friends with these Victorian celebrities, and tried to capture their personalities in her photos.
Cameron's posed photographic illustrations represent the other half of her work. In these illustrations, she frequently photographed historical scenes or literary works, which often took the quality of oil paintings. However, she made no attempt in hiding the backgrounds. Cameron's friendship with Tennyson led to his asking her to photograph illustrations for his Idylls of the King. These photographs are designed to look like oil paintings from the same time period, including rich details like historical costumes and intricate draperies. Today, these posed works are sometimes dismissed by art critics. Nevertheless, Cameron saw these photographs as art, just like the oil paintings they imitated.
In 1875, the Camerons moved back to Ceylon (now Sri Lanka). Julia continued to practice photography but complained in letters about the difficulties of getting chemicals and pure water to develop and print photographs. Also, in India, she did not have access to Little Holland House's artistic community. She also did not have a market to distribute her photographs as she had in England. Because of this, Cameron took fewer pictures in India. These pictures were of posed Indian natives, paralleling the posed pictures that Cameron had taken of neighbours in England. Almost none of Cameron's work from India survives. Cameron died in Ceylon in 1879 (now called Sri Lanka).Cameron's niece Julia Prinsep Stephen née Jackson (1846–1895) wrote the biography of Cameron, which appeared in the first edition of the Dictionary of National Biography, 1886.
Julia Stephen was the mother of Virginia Woolf, who wrote a comic portrayal of the "Freshwater circle" in her only play Freshwater. Woolf edited, with Roger Fry, a collection of Cameron's photographs.
However, it was not until 1948 that her photography became more widely known when Helmut Gernsheim wrote a book on her work.



Alice




Ellen Terry at age 16




I Wait (R. Gurney), 1872




The Echo
1868

 


Julia Jackson
1864/65




Julia Jackson
1867





My Favorite Picture of All My Works.
My Niece Julia
April 1867




God's Gift to Us
November 18, 1869

 


Mariana 1875

 


Beatrice, 1866


Prayer and Praise, 1865




Holy Family, 1872

 


Lancelot and Guinevere , about 1877



Whisper of Muse , 1865



Dr Hugh Welch Diamond

Dr Hugh Welch Diamond,
(1809 – June 21, 1886) was one of the earliest photographers, and made a major contribution to the progress of the craft.

A doctor by profession, he opened private practice in Soho, London, and then decided to specialise in the treatment of mental patients, being appointed to Bethelhem Hospital, the Surrey County Asylum. Diamond was one of the founders of the Photographic Society, was later its Secretary and also became the editor of the Photographic Journal.
He used photography to treat mental disorders; some of his many calotypes depicting the expressions of people suffering from mental disorders are particularly moving. These were used not only for record purposes, but also, he claimed in the treatment of patients, although there is little evidence of success.

Perhaps it is for his attempts to popularize photography and to lessen its mystique that Diamond is best remembered. He wrote many articles and was a popular lecturer, and he also sought to encourage younger photographers. Among the latter was Henry Peach Robinson, who was later to refer to Diamond as a "father figure" of photography.
Recognition for his encouragement and for his willingness to share his knowledge came in 1855, in the form of a testimonial amounting to £300 for services to photography; among those who subscribed were such people as Delamotte, Fenton and George Shadbolt. In 1867, the Photographic Society awarded its Medal in recognition of "his long and successful labours as one of the principal pioneers of the photographic art and of his continuing endeavours for its advancement." The following year, at his own initiative, he relinquished any further salary as Secretary of the Society, and became its Hon. Secretary.
 


DR. HUGH WELCH DIAMOND.
Inmates of Surrey County Asylum, 1852. Albumen prints. Royal Photographic Society, Bath, England.
 
DR. HUGH WELCH DIAMOND.
Inmates of Surrey County Asylum, 1852. Albumen prints. Royal Photographic Society, Bath, England.

 


DR. HUGH WELCH DIAMOND. Seated Woman, 1855; Woman with hair standing on end, 1850-1859; Roger Fenton, 1856




OSCAR GUSTAV REJLANDER, GUILLAUME BENJAMIN DUCHENNE DE BOULOGNE. Illustrations for The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, by Charles Darwin, 1872. Heliotypes. Photography Collection, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox, and Tilden Foundations.




OSCAR GUSTAV REJLANDER, GUILLAUME BENJAMIN DUCHENNE DE BOULOGNE.
Illustrations for The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, by Charles Darwin, 1872. Heliotypes. Photography Collection, The New York Public Library,
Astor, Lenox, and Tilden Foundations.

 

David Octavius Hill

At his death in 1870, David Octavius Hill was mourned for being a deeply religious but blithe spirit who had devoted his life to improving the arts in Scotland. An unexceptional though competent painter of the Scottish countryside (pi. no. 80), Hill played an important role in the cultural life of Edinburgh. He was born into a family of booksellers and publishers in Perth and learned lithography early in his career, publishing, in 1821, the first lithographic views of Scotland in Sketches of Scenery in Perthshire. In association with other artists who were dissatisfied with the leadership of the Royal Institution, Hill established the Scottish Academy in 1829, and remained connected with it in unpaid and, later, official capacity until his death. By the 1830s, Hill's interest turned to narrative illustration; among his works were lithographs for The Glasgow and Garnkirk Railway Prospectus, The Waverly Novels, and The Works of Robert Burns.

Involvement in the Scottish Disruption Movement, which led to the establishment of the Free Church of Scotland and independence from the Church of England, inspired in Hill a wish to commemorate this event in a painting of the clergymen who took part in the dispute. Introduced by Sir David Brewster to Robert Adamson (pi. no. 81), through whom he became aware of Talbot's process, Hill planned to use photography as an aid in painting the likenesses of the 400 members of the Disruption Movement. In 1843 he entered into a partnership with Adamson, about whom relatively little is known, to produce calotypes in a studio at Rock House, Calton Hill, Edinburgh, and

sometimes on location. In their joint work, each man provided an element missing in the other. Before 1843, Adamson's work was wanting in composition and lighting, while, on the evidence of work done with another collaborator some 14 years after Adamson's premature death, Hill lacked sensitivity and skill in handling the camera. During the partnership, Hill energetically organized the sittings for his proposed painting, but as the two partners became more deeply involved with the medium, they calotyped subjects, persons, and landscape views that had no relation to the Disruption painting, producing between 1843 and 1848 about 2,500 separate calotypes. Unfortunately, Hill discovered that many of the negatives tended to fade, a circumstance that along with Adamson's death seemed to make further involvement in photography unattractive.

After 1848, Hill continued to use photographs as studies for his paintings and to sell individual calotypes from his brother's print shop, while devoting time to the affairs of the Scottish Academy and other local art associations. Following a second marriage in 1862 and the unsuccessful attempt to photograph in collodion with another partner, Hill returned to the Disruption painting, completing it in 1866. Compared with the vitality and expressiveness of the calotype studies, the painted figures are unconvincing and seem to exist without air or space; the picture, however, was greeted with kindness, and Hill's last photographic project involved an endeavor to make photographic facsimiles of this work. Had he not become involved with photography, it is unlikely that Hill would have merited more than a footnote in the history of the arts of the 19th century.
 


DAVID OCTAVIUS HILL. Robert Adamson, c. 1843.
Calotype. Gemsheim Collection, Humanities Research Center, University of Texas, Austin.

Julia Margaret Cameron

One of seven daughters of a prosperous British family stationed in India, Julia Margaret Pattle was regarded by friends as generous, impulsive, enthusiastic, and imperious—"a unique figure, baffling beyond description." Educated in England and France after the death of her parents, she returned to India and in 1838 married Charles Hay Cameron, an eminent jurist and classical scholar, who invested his fortune in coffee plantations in Ceylon. In the ten years prior to their return to England, Mrs. Cameron assumed the social leadership of the Anglo-Indian colony, raised money for victims of the Irish Famine, and translated the well-known German ballad Lenore, but her boundless energy craved even greater challenges.

After settling in Freshwater, on the Isle of Wight, Cameron, using a camera given her by her daughter in 1863, embarked on a career in photography, concentrating on portraits and allegorical subjects. Models, at times paid but mainly importuned, were drawn from among her family; the household staff at the Cameron residence, Dimbola; and the households and visitors to the homes of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, and Sara Prinsep, Cameron's sister. These were many of the most famous figures in British artistic and literary circles, including Thomas Carlyle, Darwin, Herschel, Marie Spartali, Ellen Terry, and Watts, but the photographer also was interested in portraying the unrenowned as long as she found them beautiful or fall of character. Besides hundreds of idealized portraits, she created allegorical and religious subjects, particularly of angels and the Madonna, which emphasized motherhood. Because of her disappointment with the poor quality of the woodcut transcriptions of Tennyson's Idylls of the King, Cameron raised money to issue two editions that were photographically illustrated.

Cameron's attitude toward photography was that of a typical upper-class "amateur" of the time. She refused to consider herself a professional, although the high cost of practicing the medium led her to accept payment for portraits on occasion and to market photographic prints through P. and D. Colnaghi, London printsellers. They often bore the iegend: "From Life. Copyright Registered Photograph. Julia Margaret Cameron," to which she sometimes added that they were unretouched and not enlarged. Her work was shown at annual exhibitions of the Photographic Society of London and in Edinburgh, Dublin, London, Paris, and Berlin; at the latter it was acclaimed by Hermann Wilhelm Vogel and awarded a gold medal in 1866. In 1875, the Camerons returned to Ceylon, where for the three years before her death she continued to photograph, using native workers on the plantations and foreign visitors as models.

 


JULIA MARGARET CAMERON. The Rising of the New Tear, 1872.
Albumen print. Private Collection.
 

Nadar

In many ways Nadar (Gaspard Felix Tournachon) typifies the best qualities of the bohemian circle of writers and artists that settled in Paris during the Second Empire. Born into a family of printer tradespeople of radical leanings, young Nadar became interested in many of the era's most daring ideas in politics, literature, and science. After an ordinary middle-class education and a brief stab at medical school, he turned to journalism, first wring theater reviews and then literary pieces. Although a career in literature seemed assured, he gave up writing in 1848 to enlist in a movement to free Poland from foreign oppressors, an adventure that ended suddenly when he WAS captured and returned to Paris. There followed a period of involvement with graphic journalism, during which he created cartoons and caricatures of well-known political and cultural figures for the satirical press. This culminated in the Pantheon Nadar , a lithographic depiction of some 300 members of the French intelligentsia. Only mildly successful financially, it mack Nadar an immediate celebrity; more important, it introduced him to photography, from which he had drawn some of the portraits.
 


NADAR (GASPARD FELIX TOURNACHON). Self-Portrait, c. 1855.
Salt print. J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles.
 

In 1853, Nadar set up his brother Adrien as a photographer and took lessons himself, apparently with the intention of joining him in the enterprise. However, despite the evident sensitivity of Adnen's portrait of the sculptor Ernile Blavier, his lack of discipline is believed to have caused Nadar to open a studio on his own, moving eventually to the Boulevard des Capucines, the center of the entertainment district. He continued his bohemian life, filling the studio with curiosities and objets d'art and entertaining personalities in the arts and literature, but despite this flamboyant personal style he remained a serious artist, intent on creating images that were both life-enhancing and discerning.



ADRIEN TOURNACHON. Emile Blavier, c. 1853.
Albumen print. Bibliotheque Nationalc, Paris.

Ever open to new ideas and discoveries, Nadar was the first in France to make photographs underground with artificial light and the first to photograph Paris from the basket of an ascendant balloon. Even though a proponent of heavier-than-air traveling devices, he financed the construction of Le Geant, a balloon that met with an un-fortunate accident on its second trip. Nonetheless, he was instrumental in setting up the balloon postal service that made it possible for the French government to communicate with those in Paris during the German blockade in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870.

Ruined financially by this brief but devastating conflict, Nadar continued to write and photograph, running an establishment with his son Paul that turned out slick commercial work. Always a rebel, at one point he lent the recently vacated photo studio to a group of painters who wished to bypass the Salon in order to exhibit their work, thus making possible the first group exhibition of the Impressionists in April, 1874. Although he was to operate still another studio in Marseilles during the 1880s and '90s, Nadar's last photographic idea of significance was a series of exposures made by his son in 1886 as he interviewed chemist Eugene Chevreul on his 100th birthday, thus fore-shadowing the direction that picture journalism was to take. During his last years he continued to think of himself as "a daredevil, always on the lookout for currents to swim against." At his death, just before the age of ninety, he had outlived all those he had satirized in the famous Pantheon, which had started him in photography.



UNKNOWN PHOTOGRAPHER (French). Facade of Nadar's Studio at 35 Boulevard des Capucines,
Paris, after 1880. Albumen print. Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris.

 

The Galerie Contemporaine-Appearance and Character in 19th-century Portraiture

The Galerie Contemporaine, a series of 241 portraits of celebrated artistic, literary, and political figures in France during the Second Empire and Third French Republic, was issued in Paris between the years 1876 and 1894. A different portrait, accompanied by biographical text, appeared each week from 1876 to 1880; after that the album became an annual devoted almost exclusively to those in the mainstream pictorial arts. The images were the work of some 28 photographers who operated studios in Paris during this period; they were published in different sizes, depending on the dimensions of the original negative or plate, and usually were presented within a decorative border. Because in some cases they were taken long before they were used in the Galerie, the individual portraits are difficult to date. Whether these photographs were produced by carbon process or Woodburytype has not been definitively established, but the fact that the publisher, Goupil et Cie., had purchased a franchise for the Woodburytype process in France some years earlier suggests that the images were made by this method.

In this selection, portraits by noted photographers Etienne Carjat and Nadar exemplify the pictorial excellence possible through adroit manipulation of pose, demeanor, and lighting, while the image by Tourtin indicates that the work of little-known portraitists included in this ambitious publication also achieved a high level of excellence.
 


TTITNNT CARJAT. Alexandre Dumas, from Galerie Contemporaine, 1878.
Woodburytype. Museum of Photography at George Eastman House, Rochester, N.Y.
 


TOURTIN. Sarah Bernhardt, from Galerie Contemporaine, 1877.
Woodburytype. International Museum of Photography at George Eastman House, Rochester, N.Y.

 
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
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