No matter the temperature, may your Christmas be warm and bright.
“Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants” —Louis Brandeis, U.S. Supreme Court Justice, 1913
This Brandeis quote is widely cited today as referring to the benefits of openness and transparency-especially as it pertains to keeping democracy vital and thriving.
So what does this have to do with a blog dedicated to preserving, promoting and riffing on the history of artistic photography?
Well, unfortunately, not much at all. That is, if only we were to think of photography as a truthful medium- something that accurately records for posterity what is placed before it or “seen” by the camera. That evidence would be from an impartial machine, and honesty might prevail. But as we traverse the second decade of the 21st Century, technology is taking a brutal hammer to what our once (believing) eyes took for fact. The sunlight of truthfulness has gotten a bit dim of late, yielding, inevitably, to “progress”. Of course, arguments could be made that photography has lied ever since the invention of the medium. Longtime readers of this blog might remember how I wrote about unscrupulous “photographers” operating in the mid 19th century who would trick people into believing the camera itself could mesmerize them. Today, as of October 2024, when I first spotted it, the updated version of mesmerization is now done courtesy of AI. (artificial intelligence) Here’s an Orwellian example of that in what I will call the Ebay photographic caption from Hell that should help put things in perspective:
“This vintage photograph captures a momentous occasion in Yellowstone National Park in 1892. The image depicts a family who was taken by a tripod rigged. The photograph is in sepia tone and has a size of H18 3/10 cm x W21 5/10 cm. The image is produced using a photographic technique and features the Richardsons family. This collectible item is perfect for photography enthusiasts and collectors alike.“
So far, kinda good, other than the “tripod rigged” mention and the fact no one really speaks of common snapshots of Victorians chilling in nature as a “momentous occasion”. It would soon become apparent that our new friend AI was hard at work to really sell this photo. The caption continues:
“The Richardson Family was off on an expedition and there were no cell phones and there was no one out there and there were no Rangers and there were no Rescuers and nobody could save them if they where to call out and that’s what it was like in those days and they put their lives in front of nature and they didn’t think ahead of time to prepare if any natural occurrences would come along with bears and mountain lions.”
So yeah. What could possibly go wrong in our brave new world? I say bring on the sunlight. And lots of it. Call out the fakes. Push back. We here at PhotoSeed are big fans of transparency. Who wants to collect a “vintage” photograph with that kind of back story or an obvious fake of great, great grandma or grandad run through an AI filter? Well someone of course, and that’s cool too- whatever floats your boat and all that. But I digress.
Sunlight- as a kind of invisible chemical medium- was everything to the existence of early photography. Similar to AI today in that enabling it is just a few clicks on a computer keyboard, and may remain a mystery to unsuspecting viewers, people did not understand what a photograph was or how they were made in the earliest version of the medium. Sunlight provided that answer, or at least a reasoning. The ever-present Sun overhead provided the means for these early efforts. In the 1830s, the Englishman William Henry Fox Talbot, a botanist among other passions, experimented by recording the shapes of things like leaves and lace, contact printing these on sheets of chemically altered writing paper. The results were known as “photogenic drawings”, or drawings produced by light. It’s no wonder promotion of early photography involved the iconography of our friend the Sun.
Talbot’s Calotype process, patented in 1841 with earlier iterations being the basis for his groundbreaking positive-negative process of 1839, would be referred by him and other practitioners as “Sun Pictures”, or Talbotypes. The editors of London’s Art Union Journal exclaimed in June 1846, while presenting an original example of one of his Sun Pictures (see example above) that:
“It will be remembered that we have from time to time called attention to these truly wonderful representations, in our notices of Mr. Talbot’s work, “The Pencil of Nature.” By the public these “sun-pictures” are still misapprehended-still “misnomered;” we shall accordingly, in this notice, show what they are not, and endeavour to explain what they are, as it is yet far from generally accepted that they result from the action of light alone, and are not produced by some leger-de-main [slight of hand] of Art.”
The article continues and even gives the chemical formula for making sensitized Calotype paper that could be exposed in a camera obscura. (1.) Terminology developed rapidly from here. To differentiate in the public discourse from a painting or drawing made by hand, these new “photographs” would hence be referred to as being “From Nature.” The one constant of this wondrous invention was the Sun overhead. It alone was responsible for even making photography and photographs exist in the first place.
In the exhibition catalogue “The Last Decade” published in 1984 by George Eastman House, the symbolism of Sun imagery is discussed as part of an 1899 nude study by Belgian photographer Charles Fondu:“Fondu’s woman, combination of femme fatale and omnipotent angelic female, is profiled against the sun. Like the sunflower, the sun was a popular symbol with art photography clubs. It represented photography’s necessary light as well as the inspiration, power and renewal associated with otherworldly presence.” (p.4)
As a graphic device, the image of a Sun would be a great promoter for photographic achievement, and was common in print even through the first decade of the 20th Century.
I hope you enjoy these examples of artistic photographs from nature, and have included a few of my own as modern comparisons. The contrast deliberate, my very own version of “Sun & Shade”: “Butterfly Wings” was taken in the “Sunshine State” while “Condemned” hails from the depths of an upstate New York Winter.
Even in our current digital age, the Sun, giver of all life, continues to make photography possible by giving complex machines the illumination necessary to record our everyday existences and its many hues, shapes and wonders. But it’s a layered argument, the Sun being symbolic as well. Take my last photograph in this post. It’s the winter of 1983 (2.) and my assignment for The Daily Orange student newspaper was to photograph the final residents of the old Winchell Hall dormitory on campus, soon to face the wrecking ball. A snowstorm, as was common on a Syracuse winter day back then, was in full force. Stage directing the scene from across the street while somehow convincing the students to all climb out onto their respective room balconies was actually the easy part. What I didn’t anticipate were all the smiles that erupted, the finger pointing and general merriment the act of taking the photograph brought about. Sure, the old building was coming down to be replaced by a bright new shiny object, but these students had been forever immortalized in a photograph. And a truthful one at that: an unmanipulated moment where their futures were truly bright, and one where future dreams would surely include many bright tomorrows.
I may have actually photographed this scene in mid January, 1984. From the SU archives: “While in the process of being demolished to make room for the building of Schine Student Center, a fire, possibly arson, swept through Winchell in early February 1984 and hastened the venerable structure’s end. in early 1984.” Read more about the history of Winchell Hall.
This summer in the New England area, where PhotoSeed calls home, has seen copious hydrangea blooms like none in recent memory. So with juxtaposition in mind, I cracked an issue of Camera Work and brought to life for a moment one of my favorite Adolf De Meyer photographs from 1908: Still Life, featuring several limp hydrangea blooms balancing from a clear glass of water. The radical composition sucks me in every time I see this photograph and was an important marker in my own development as a young photographer- that and the stunning Jan Groover (American: 1943–2012) compositions featuring household cutlery.
Perhaps inspiration itself for the much later André Kertész photograph called “Melancholic Tulip, New York”, dating to 1939, in which a drooping bloom is photographed by Kertész (American, born Hungary 1894-1985) using a parabolic mirror- a metaphor, according to the Getty “that is also a self-portrait of the artist as a wilted flower”. Perhaps. But for me, one thing is constant in Photography: changing perspectives. Assuming a human is behind that lens, (sorry AI) photography is ever changing. Just like the weather of late and climate change in particular. The result of these factors- fleeting beauty showcased in bountiful hydrangea blooms- can be distilled from a few factors. In The Times, Hank Sanders writes on July 10, 2024 and quotes Melissa Finley, Thain Curator of Woody Plants at the New York Botanical Garden, who said that after a rainy summer and fall in 2023, a warm winter with El Niño conditions “caused very little damage to the dormant buds, leading to an explosion of blossoms now.” As for myself, I’m going to enjoy the show around these parts, which includes these glorious backyard blossoms, juxtaposed. I hope you do too.
Welcome to the newly redesigned PhotoSeed website, version 2.0. It has been several years in the making, with the reality that the first version became technically obsolete, no matter the myriad work arounds and, dare I say, gaffer tape employed to keep it functioning.
Back end engineer Tyler Craft and designer Jay David, the same talent behind the first generation 2011 PhotoSeed website that won a 2012 Webby award for the Art category, have rejoined forces and rebuilt PhotoSeed from the ground up. The result: simplified, stripped down, and better user function. However, for a website devoted to Photography, what we like most of all, in our humble opinion, is that the site itself is a work of art.
Changes ⎯ like how gender-bending Iowa Vaudevillian Harry Hemphill, above, did to transform himself into the drapery dancer with the stage name “Huntress”—are not just literal constructs but unique examples of photographic evidence collected by this archive to showcase and keep you coming back for more. In keeping with the continuing purpose of establishing a more concise historical record for known and unknown photographers working in the era of artistic photography (roughly 1890-1930), PhotoSeed hopes to continue a world-wide discussion and re-evaluation of this material. We look forward to your input, suggestions and criticisms for the purpose of improving the site for all who visit.
⎯David Spencer- Massachusetts, May, 2024