“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.

1. Excerpt: The Talbotype. ⎯  Sun Pictures. The Art Union Journal, June 1, 1846 pp. 143-44.

2. 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.

A reappraisal of old photos has recently invaded the public conversation of late. Artificial intelligence, in the form of video driver technology invented by Israeli company D-ID, was licensed earlier this year to genealogy and DNA company MyHeritage with the moniker Deep Nostalgia™. Old photographs, no matter their original medium, are brought to life as short animated video clips, and may never be seen in the same way again.

Taking up the company’s free offer to try out the technology, I applied it to a recent archive acquisition, A Holbein Woman, taken in the very early 1890’s by Deerfield, Massachusetts sister photographers Frances Stebbins and Mary Electa Allen. You can see the result in a short 12 second video posted to YouTube embedded above in this post.

The photograph, considered a masterwork of early genre pictorialist portrait photography, is of their mother Mary Stebbins Allen, (1819-1903) and in itself done after the then fashionable practice (1.) of an imitation painting: in this case, a Renaissance portrait by Bavarian artist Hans Holbein the Elder. (c. 1460-1524) To add another layer of mystery, research I did last year revealed the primary source portrait- the oil painting (c.1520-1525) known as “Portrait of a Woman from Southern Germany” in the collection of the Mauritshuis museum in The Hague, was originally attributed to Holbein’s son “The Younger”, (c. 1497-1543) with the now updated disclaimer by the museum’s curators as being “formerly attributed” to this artist. This painting can be seen at upper right, with a colorized version of the Allen sisters portrait run through remarkable colorization technology MyHeritage In Color™ at left.

Another words, if being accurate to revisionist history but without the convenient addition of a famous name, (2.) the Allen sisters efforts in the modern day might conceivably be retitled “A Formerly Attributed Woman” rather than “A Holbein Woman”.

And although it is but one example reanimated from that era using new technology, it seems reasonable to conclude 21st Century progress courtesy of Deep Nostalgia™ may only reinforce and belie a continuation of certain prejudices and expectations from the past, the same criticism that could be leveled at video driver technology being only an approximation of humanity, leaving us devoid of the true mannerisms of those who actually lived.

“Creepy” is one online descriptor I kept encountering in people’s reactions to this new technology, but when has that ever stopped “progress”? (3.) Are we doomed or can fleeting perceptions of the past in old photographs brought to “life” change our future for the better, our marveling reactions to it as incidental as the new shiny object of the here and now? Only time will tell. (4.)    David Spencer-

Notes:

1. The worldwide pandemic brought on by COVID-19 lockdowns inspired a massive revival of imitation paintings and other works of art including photography. Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum in March, 2020 promoted their Stay at Home Challenge!, inviting people to recreate modern day reinterpretations from masterworks in their collection. This was soon followed by the Getty museum in California. One of the very first “challenge” accounts to promote this revived genre was the Netherlands Instagram account Tussen Kunst & Quarantaine– translating to “between art and quarantine” which first inspired the Rijksmuseum challenge.

2. This would never happen.

3. An examination of ethical concerns as a result of so-called Deepfake technology contained within Deep Nostalgia™ is explored in a New York Times article written by Daniel Victor from March 10, 2021: Your Loved Ones, and Eerie Tom Cruise Videos, Reanimate Unease With Deepfakes.

4. That shiny object has been here since February, 2021. Care to upload a selfie, historical photograph or stock pic of Kim Jong-un, Mao Zedong or Joe Biden and see yourself or them “sing” to popular music? Then download the WOMBO app here. Guardian technology columnist Helen Sullivan reports on March 12, 2021 the app just might be giving competition to Deep Nostalgia™.

“Coburnesque”, or, in the style of American master pictorialist Alvin Langdon Coburn, (1882-1966) was how the work of now forgotten American photographer Henry Ravell (1864-1930) was described in 1908 by London’s Amateur Photographer & Photographic News.

Under the headline “Local Colour.” by journal critic “The Magpie”, a discussion of the merits around Ravell’s new color multiple gum printing process was considered for their large readership. Commenting on a series of his Mexican church photographs published in the May issue of the Century Magazine, “Magpie” writes:

“Who is this Mr. Ravell, and what is his wonderful colour process, which is not “on the negative”? Multiple-gum, one may surmise- and one may also venture to guess that Mr. “de Forest” (Lockwood de Forest- editor) has, notwithstanding this flourish of trumpets, nothing very much to tell us. The Ravell photographs, illustrating “Some Mexican Churches,” are Coburnesque, and the pictures are, in their very Yankee style, fine and strong- which is more than can be said for those in our English monthlies. Couldn’t Mr. Ravell be induced to send some examples of his work to the R.P.S. or Salon? We badly need some new American exhibitors.” (June 16, p. 600)

A reassessment of Ravell’s output is long overdue in elevating him back to his rightful position as one of the more important practitioners of pictorialism in the early 20th Century canon of American artistic photographers.

Undoubtedly, “Magpie” would have been pleased to know Henry Ravell sprung from fine English photographic stock. His father Charles Henry Ravell (1833-1917) emigrated to the U.S. from Boston, England and was known to have been active as a Daguerreotypist as early as 1857, (1.) his trade shingle set up early in the New York state village of Chittenango. By 1860, U.S. Census records show he had moved to Wolcott, New York, where he was a commercial photographer. Surviving cdv photographs from here bearing his C.H. Ravell back-stamp reveal some of his clients were young men heading off to fight in the American Civil War.

Born in early January of 1864 in Wolcott, Henry Ravell is known to have embraced photography from a very young age. As a boy, he became his father’s apprentice. Lockwood de Forest, (1850-1932) an important influence on Henry for the rest of his life in the 20th Century and important American painter and furniture designer, wrote in 1908 that Henry:

“was born and brought up in photography from childhood and became an expert in all processes before he was twelve years old.” Through a fascinating confluence of sons starting out in their father’s professions, Henry Ravell graduated to having an interest in art, and he studied water-color painting with the noted American artist and Tonalist Henry Ward Ranger, (1858-1916) probably in his late teens or early 20’s.  The artist and student had much in common. Like Charles Henry Ravell, who had established his own Canal Street photo studio in Lyons, N.Y. by 1867, (Wayne County Business Directory) Ranger’s father Ward Valencourt Ranger (1835–1905) had opened his own commercial studio in 1868 in Syracuse, N.Y., 55 miles east of Lyons, almost at the same time. Like Henry Ravell working for his father at an early age, Henry Ranger was also known to have worked in his father’s establishment as a young man.

Sometime in the early 1880’s after Henry had finished this “apprenticeship”, he moved to nearby Auburn, New York, about halfway to Syracuse from Lyons, to a job crafting Crayon and Pastel portrait photographic enlargements for Ten Eyck & Co.  At the time, this firm is said to have been the largest of its’ type in the world. This gave Henry additional artistic skills, combining his interest in photography and art, an important and influential confluence indeed. He kept at this profession until either 1883, according to Lockwood de Forest, or as late as 1892, in a posthumous biography of Henry by sister Florence.

At this time, Henry is said to have moved to Cuernavava Mexico, south of Mexico City, where he became a far-flung agent for the Ten Eyck & Co. firm, although a certain amount of traveling back and forth to the U.S. and the family home was probably the reality. To wit, the Minnesota State Census for 1895 lists his occupation as “artist”, claiming an American residence while living with his father, mother and younger brother, Charles Ravell Jr. in the city of St. Paul. Here his father finished out his career running a photo studio on Western Ave. from 1890-92.

During the mid 1880’s back in Lyons, a fascinating yet presently unsubstantiated account of Henry’s involvement with the development of the first Kodak camera is relevant for background on his future career as a master photographer who became a striver with his own agenda. This event is worthy of historical contemplation in the present from reminisces provided in the aforementioned posthumous biography published in 1940:

“George Eastman of Rochester, New York, was a family friend. During a visit of three or four weeks, Mr. Eastman worked on and developed his famous Kodak, with the help of my father and brother.” “Their workshop was the basement of our former home at 70 Broad Street, Lyons. Mr. Eastman offered my father stock in the Kodak Company, which he often regretted not accepting.”  (2.)

Memories can sometimes be suspect, but several details of Florence’s biography are important and worth following up on, with this website happy to accept the challenge. By tracking down old street addresses, the Ravell family home as published in the 1886-87 Lyons residential directory was actually found to be located as 40 Broad Street. (William Smith, whose occupation was Express Transfer Agent, lived at 70 Broad St. as published in the same directory) Coupled with the knowledge that Lyons street addresses had been renumbered, probably in the early 20th Century, and cross-referencing with a 1904 Sanborn Fire Insurance Company map found online at the Library of Congress, the former and still standing Ravell home built in 1850 revealed itself to be the present day 64 Broad Street. All of this effort, if somehow confirming a claim George Eastman had actually spent time in Lyons was true, could result in a potentially fascinating footnote to the development of one of the most important inventions of the 19th Century- The Kodak No. 1 Camera which debuted in 1888: “By far the most significant event in the history of amateur photography”, according to the Met Museum in New York City.

The earliest published references to Ravell’s photographic work in the popular press is found around 1905, when Boston’s Photo-Era, writing for their December issue, pronounces him “A new star of the first magnitude”, although noting his two pictures: “Pleasant Valley” and “Viga Canal”, “do not represent him at his best.” This assessment also including listing him on the journal’s noteworthy list of exhibitors whose work had been accepted for the Second American Photographic Salon which ran from 1905-06.

Florence Ravell, quoting Lockwood de Forest for her 1940 article on Henry, expanded on her brothers new found respect in the profession, particularly in his mastery of the gum print, which would soon establish him as a major talent:

“Henry Ravell was recognized as one of the leading artists in his profession, both in this country and in Europe where he had exhibited, and has been a contributor to many of the photographic magazines, where a description of his technical processes are given. He succeeded in making a gum print in one printing with results far beyond the finest etchings and very similar in character.”  

Henry perfected the gum bichromate process to a very high level. Probably in 1906-07, he began experimenting in multiple color gum. In Germany, around this same time, similar examples were being done by the brothers Theodor (1868-1943) and Oscar Hofmeister, (1871-1937) as well as Heinrich Wilhelm Müller (1859-1933) (3.) The following quote in the December,1908 issue of Boston’s Photo-Era encapsulates the admiration these gum prints received:

“It will be remembered that last summer Henry Ravell, of Mexico, exhibited in New York and Boston his results in multiple gum-bichromate printing in color. They excited considerable interest at the time, especially among our painters, who were very cordial in their praise of Mr. Ravell’s beautiful work, for it showed, in an eminent degree, the artistic possibilities of the gum-process.” (p. 300)

Again writing in 1940, Florence wrote of her younger brother: “but his favorite work was photography, and the gum print process. This process was original with an Austrian who refused to make it known, but Henry experimented until he developed it, and later gave the formula to the world.” The conjecture of this website is the possibility Henry originally gleaned and modified his own multiple gum color process from the earlier work of Austrian photographer Heinrich Kühn. (1866-1944) An 1897 example of a three-color gum print by him can be found in the collection of the Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe in Hamburg Germany.

In 1908, Henry’s champion Lockwood de Forest gave a fuller explanation of the technical details for this color process, as part of copy included with a series of Mexican Church studies published in the May issue of the Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine:

“Last summer he started experiments in color-printing. His process is simple. Instead of introducing colors on the negatives, as in the lumière process, he is using the colors in the sensitizer of the printing paper. The specimens he has sent me are printed in three or four colors. Each print is finished, recoated all over with the sensitizer with the next color, and again printed. This is done for each color separately, the black print coming last, as in the regular color-printing process.”

Ravell continued to work in Mexico until about 1914, when it is believed he moved back to the Los Angeles area of California in order to escape the Civil War (Mexican Revolution) then engulfing the country. A short biography included in the 1978 volume Pictorial Photography in Britain 1900-1920 gives 1916 as a slightly later date, although it was likely he was traveling back and forth from Mexico to the U.S. several times during this tumultuous time:

“In 1916 an article entitled “Cathedrals of Mexico”, illustrated by his work, was published in Harper’s magazine. About this time he left Mexico, almost as a refugee. His studio in Cuernavaca was destroyed by rebels. He moved to California where he began to photograph near Carmel and settled at Santa Barbara.”

Now that this American born “refugee” was back in his home country for good, he immediately set out photographing the beauty of the southern California coastline, with an emphasis on capturing the numerous entanglements of old cypress trees set against the landscape and Pacific Ocean. Conveniently, and perhaps not coincidentally, Lockwood de Forest had moved permanently to Santa Barbara in 1915 after wintering in the area since 1902, with his professional connections to the world of art giving Henry and his work credibility and entrance to a larger audience. These included retrospective exhibitions of nearly 100 framed works of his Mexican and California subjects at major American institutions. These began in October, 1918 at the Pratt Institute Art Gallery in Brooklyn and continued into 1919 at the Albright Art Gallery in Buffalo, New York followed by shows the same year at the newly opened Cleveland Museum of Art and then at the Chicago Art Institute.

Henry Ravell would continue to exhibit his work late into the 1920’s at smaller venues, one example being a tri-colored gum print titled “Mexican Peon Boy” shown at the 1927 Los Angeles Salon and remarked on by Camera Craft, his gum prints deemed “for which he has gained a warranted renown”. Gum printing was indeed so important to the artist that he listed “Gum Printer” as his occupation for the 1920 U.S. Census.

The Albright Art Gallery was an important venue for Ravell’s work, considering the groundbreaking exhibition it previously hosted in November, 1910: the International Exhibition of Pictorial Photography. Organized by the Photo-Secession under the direction of Alfred Stieglitz, it was “the first exhibition held at an American museum that aimed to elevate photography’s stature from a purely scientific pursuit to a visual form of artistic expression.” Even nine years later, in 1919, at a time when museum shows devoted to the work of a singular photographer anywhere in the world were still few and far between and remained so decades later, it’s refreshing in the present to read observations by one curator remarking on Ravell’s 93 framed photographs displayed at the Albright gallery for Academy Notes, the mouthpiece for The Buffalo Fine Arts Academy:

“THE collection of photographs by H. Ravell—which was on view in the gallery during the last week in February and all of March—is very unique and valuable. These photographs are technically known as gum-prints and have all the painter’s quality in their execution. They do not impress one as photographs but rather as work directly from the artist’s brush. The photographs were made by H. Ravell who is now in Santa Barbara. Many of the pictures were taken near Carmel, California, a seashore of much variety where the fantastic cypress trees with their twisted dramatic forms produce wonderful compositions against sea and sky.” …This is but a short description of the remarkable exhibition of photographs shown at the Albright Art Gallery. It was seen by many art lovers and appreciated especially by all of those interested in artistic photography.” (4.)

A reevaluation of Henry Ravell’s body of work is important to consider in the present given the broad acknowledgement of his talent by major institutions and the popular press for the benefit of many large audiences over 100 years ago. An important pictorialist photographer who was also a  painter, Henry Ravell was a striver and apprentice graduate inspired by his father’s steady trade in the New York state village of Lyons who embraced a love for craft and mastery of art. Together, these skills gave him the passion to embrace adventure in capturing the beauty in far-off Mexico and southern California for the ages.

Four original gum prints in the PhotoSeed Archive can be seen here, each listing an expanded biography, timeline and major institutional holdings for the artist.

Afterword | Notes

A conundrum on internet research into Henry Ravell’s artistic output reveals itself quickly. The bottom line is that most every painting on the web attributed to Henry Ravell the photographer is not by him. Instead, through PhotoSeed’s research and purchase of the small painting: “The Ripers”, (The Reapers) the true identity of this artist can now be revealed as Henry Etienne Ravel. (1872-1962) Born in Naples Italy to French citizens, Henry Ravel immigrated to America in 1906 and became a naturalized US citizen in 1920. A transportation clerk by trade in the early 1920’s, his paintings- many done in Europe- date from ca. 1930’s-1950’s. What causes the confusion is that like Henry Ravell the photographer, who signed his photographs  “H. Ravell”, Henry Ravel the painter also signed his work similarly, but as “H. Ravel” Numerous examples of his paintings show up on Google searches-unlike the real and quite rare examples of watercolors done by Ravell the photographer. I’ve included links to some of these paintings on the page showing “The Ripers”. As always- buyer beware and do your homework!

1. C. Ravel won a $3.00 premium for “Best Daguerreotypes” during the Annual Fair of the Madison County Agricultural Society held at Morrisville, (N.Y.) on the 15th, 16th and 17th days of September,1857 according to a newspaper account in the Cazenovia Republican. Shout out to the Pioneer American Photographers 1839-1860 website.   Langdon’s List of 19th & Early 20th Century Photographers additionally list Ravel working in Manlius, New York in the 1859 N.Y. State Business Directory.

2. See: The Lyons Republican & Clyde Times: Lyons, N.Y. Thursday, March 21, 1940. Article excerpts: HENRY RAVELL: “Resided in Lyons for twenty-eight years, died in Los Angeles California, January 20, 1930. This account was written by his sister, Mrs. Florence Ravell Lothrop, of 721 Fifth Street North, St. Petersburg, Florida.: “Henry had no special training in any school or under any masters except my father, Charles Herring Ravel, who was born in Boston, England, and became one of the first photographers in the United States. His forbears came over with William the Conqueror to England, which accounts for the one “L” in the name. My mother was annoyed because most people called her Mrs. Rav’-el and persuaded my father to add “L”, so the family adopted that spelling of our name.…Henry studied and experimented all his life. His photographic subjects were portraits, landscapes, street scenes, trees, cloud and moonlight effects. His Mexican Cathedrals were especially noteworthy. He used both oils and water colors, but his favorite work was photography, and the gum print process. This process was original with an Austrian who refused to make it known, but Henry experimented until he developed it, and later gave the formula to the world. I remember seeing around his studio, pans of water about three inches deep. The photo-print was put into the water and pigments of paint dropped on it, this gave the effect when completed of a soft beautiful painting. My description to an artist will seem crude but that is as I recall it.…Henry never taught, that is, acted as a teacher in any school, and I do not know what societies he belonged. He exhibited in the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Salon about 1907. From the thousands of photographs submitted, three of his were among the 237 accepted. His work was exhibited at the Salmagundi Club, New York City; Thurber’s and Anderson’s Galleries in Chicago, Los Angeles, California, and many, many other places. Fifteen of his photographs are at the Metropolitan Museum, New York City. Seven are Mexican subjects and eight are California trees. These were selected by Forest Lockwood.(sic) After Henry’s death at Los Angeles, California, in 1930, a request came for him to send an exhibit to the Fifth International Photographic Salon of Japan held at Tokyo and Osaka in May, 1931.”

3. In the December, 1908 issue of Boston’s Photo-Era, a short article titled “Gum-Prints In Colors” appeared, linking Ravell’s gum prints as being similar to “a collection of prints by the same process, probably with modifications” to work done by the Hofmeister brothers and Müller. These German works were shown at the offices of The British Journal of Photography in London’s Strand from September 28- October 24, 1907. 

4. See: Academy Notes: The Buffalo Fine Arts Academy: Albright Art Gallery: Buffalo, New York: vol. XIV: Jan.-Oct. 1919, p. 67 

America’s birthday is best defined by the natural beauty of her National Parks, undisturbed by man’s folly.