Showing posts with label image in context series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label image in context series. Show all posts

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Eating My Words

"I just really hope we get some snow. I want dramatic snow pictures!" Might be something I said several times in the week leading up to my most recent excursion into the 1940s. Whoops?

clearing snow near the USS Constitution, via WBUR

On the other hand, I'm clearly not the only person to ever think the snow made for a dramatic setting. People have been capturing the perils and playtimes of snow days in Boston for over 100 years, which is pretty awesome. The Boston Public Library has a fabulous archive of some of these images, taken by Boston Herald-Traveler photographer Leslie Jones.

Jones at rest with a couple of camera, from the BPL's archive site
Leslie Jones preferred the term "camera man" to photographer, and while he was interested in taking pictures from a young age, Jones actually began adulthood as a pattern maker in a Boston factory. During that time, he also did freelance photography work, capturing the city as he saw it.  When he lost two fingers in a factory accident, Jones went to work for local newspaper the Boston Herald-Trader full time in 1917. During his 39 year tenure at the Herald-Trader, Jones covered everything from the day-to-day excitement of Boston, to historic events (e.g., Lindbergh's flight across the Atlantic), to local baseball at Fenway Park. After his death, his family donated an incredible 40,000(!) negatives to the archives at the Boston Public Library, and the collection is available online here if you'd like to take a look--I really recommend it.

Jones shooting in Fenway Park, undated (but probably c.1940s?)
I've selected a few of my favorites from the library's "Boston in Winter" album to share with you. Check out more on their Flickr account!

Package delivery by sleigh, market district, date unkown
Girls snowshoeing on Boston Common, c.1930s
Horse slips on snow, c.1920s (poor horse! At least cars don't feel pain when they slide)
Checking the weather equipment on Boston Common, 1923
At the corner of Tremont and Boylston, 1930 (check out those fabulous hats!)
So really, not much has changed!

Carting snow away in trucks, 1939
Snow removal by truck, 2015 (via the Boston Globe)
For those of you in New England, stay warm and safe!

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Depth of Field: Lens Technology in the Mid-19th Century

Wet-collodion processing led to faster shooting and much more reproducible images, but another important component of the evolution of photography was the camera itself. Modern photographers have a huge range of lenses to choose from, with a diverse assortment of capabilities. There is a deliberate choice about which lens to use for a particular shot to get a particular image; the reflection of those choices are in some ways a reflection of the photographer--what they wanted to show, their aesthetic preferences, their point of view. In the 19th century, lenses weren't interchangeable in the same way, and photographic techniques developed in different ways as lens technology changed.

Although photographic processes existed fairly early in the 19th century, the first convertible lens was not produced until about 1840. This lens, commissions via a design contest by the French society for the advancement of the industry (Société d'Encouragements pour l'Industrie Nationale), was designed by Charles Chevalier and called the "l'Objectif double à verres combinés." The lens was comprised of two curved glass disks inside a metal barrel, and by changing part of the barrel (and therefore swapping out one of the glass disks), the photographer could alter the focal length to change between a lens best for wide shots (landscape) and singular focus (portrait). 


an add for Chevalier's lens (shown in both focal lengths)


View of the Seine, Paris, 1843, Charles Chevalier (and presumable shot with his lens)
While the lens was revolutionary, its landscape configuration was by far stronger; the portrait length suffered from an overall lack of sharpness, leaving room for improvement.

Although submitted too late for consideration in the Societe's contest, another lens designed at the same time provided a much clearer portrait image. Designed by Joseph Petzval, a mathematics professor at the University of Vienna, the Petzval lens used complex mathematical equations applied to the spacing and curvature of the glass disks within the barrel to produce the fasts reflection of a flat field possible. The lens was quite sharp in the central focal point of the image and provided a much better resolution than Chevalier's lens.

diagram of Petzval's design
The fault of the large curvature of the glass was that Petzval's lens had a narrow area of focus, and the rest of the image featured blurring/vignetting. While that made it less ideal for landscapes, the lens was well liked for portraits (its intended purpose), and the general features of the design quickly became popular, resulting in many many copies. Thousands of these lenses were produced and sold, which helps to explain why the lens's distinct image features are so prevalent in 19th century photographs. The narrow depth of field and small focal area also change the process of setting up a shot--rather than thinking about a scene or composition of multiple components, photographers were isolating one moment or face or object of particular interest and loosing all the surrounding context. While a different type of deliberate image creation than choosing the lens, I think it is very much a window into how photographers captured to world.

Soldier, Crimea, 1850s
Soldier, crimea, c.1855
soldiers at camp, c.1861-65 (note how only one face is in focus)
Norwegian women, date unknown

In previous posts in this series, I've discussed how images contribute to our understanding of the past, and the way evolving image-processing technology allowed photographers to leave the studio and bring the world home. If this was interesting, check them out!

Sources:

http://www.oldphotographiclenses.com/about_the_book.html
http://antiquecameras.net/buron.html
http://microsites.lomography.com/petzval-lens/

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Industry and Exploration: Travel and War in the Mid-19th Century

This winter I started posting about photography and how it relates to understanding/portraying history, because this is a topic I find particularly interesting. My first post was an introduction to 19th century photographic processes and the ways in which they were used. Today I'm continuing that theme, but we're adding some new inventions to the mix!

At the same time the daguerreotype was probably the most popular form of photographic development, a different process was also making its way onto the scene. Invented by Frederick Scott Archer, the "wet-collodion" process in the late 1840s. Known as wet-plate photography, the wet-collodion process produced a clear, noiseless image with a much shorter required exposure time than any of the currently popular processes. Wet-plate images could also be copied an infinite number of times from a single negative. This made producing images for publication a possibility, and the shorter exposure time made wet-collodion the best option for candids and outdoor shots. 

"Head of the Harbor," Balaclava, Russia c.1855 by Roger Fenton
 The downside of the wet-collodion process was that it required the image to be developed almost immediately (i.e., while the exposure plate was still wet), or the integrity of the image would be greatly compromised. As a result, in order to shoot wet-plate photographs, photographers needed to travel with a portable dark room.

Salted paper print showing John with all the apparatus needed to take a collodion negative
photographer with his hand-made development tent for wet-collodion processing, c.1850s, via The JDL site
Still, wet-plate photography helped to start the "golden age of travel photography" [1] in the second half of the 19th century. These images gave everyday people, who could not afford to travel across the globe, a window into distant corners of the world.
Albumen Photograph Incredible Italy Pompei Excavations 1860s ...
Pompeii, via the Princeton archives

Western wall, Jerusalem, c. mid-19th century, by Francis Frith. (V&A collection)
The precision Watkins shot in is exquisite for the 1860s. Photo: Courtesy of CarletonWatkins.org
Yosemite, American West, 1865, by Carleton Watkins (LoC)

tomb near Shanghai, c.1869-98, via The Daily Mail
Faster, reproducible images were also perfect for another purpose: capturing the realities of war. Roger Fenton, who traveled to Russia in the 1850s, used wet-collodion processing and a specially-designed mobile darkroom to photograph the Crimean War. His images are a mix of fascinating and exotic uniforms, the generic chores of camp life, and the grim, stark realities of battle casualties. For the first time, people at home in England saw glimpses of battle, in shockingly realistic candid photographs from the field.

Wounded Zouave & Vivandiere
Wounded zouave with vivandiere, 1855 (Royal Collection Trust)
These images of battles and peoples in distant places were certainly new and stark and fascinating, but they had a sort of space guaranteed by the utter otherness of their subjects. In contrast, the photographs taken during the American Civil War were both honest in their portrayal of battle, but also brutal in their closeness.

Before the war, Mathew Brady had a photography studio in New York, and in the late 1850s was working with his partner Alexander Gardner to specialize in life-size portraits using enlargement techniques that were a cutting edge area of wet-plate photography. "Brady saw himself as a pictorial historian," and so when war broke out on home soil, Brady undertook to document it.

company of 6th ME infantry after the Battle of Fredricksburg, 1862, by Mathew Brady (National Archives)

Brady took--and exhibited at his gallery--graphic images of the war's front lines. As the war grew, so did Brady's coverage: at times he had up to 20 photographers in the field. The production of clear images, taken quickly with "the never-failing tube," that were reproducible for dissemination among the American public was a direct result of Brady's use of the wet-collodion process.

Chaplain conducting mass for the 69th New York State Militia encamped at Fort Corcoran, DC, 1861
casualties from the Battle of Antietam
Camp Northumberland, c.1860-65
Sources:

[1] Global Views, 19th century travel photography in the Princeton Archives
[2] Lewinski, Jorge (1986). The Camera At War: War Photography for 1848 to the Present Day

Monday, June 30, 2014

The Speed Graphic by Graphlex and my DSLR Mod

I knew I wanted to live up to my role of war correspondent for the WWII Weekend in Reading, but I also didn't want to carry around a modern camera all weekend. My compromise was to use period camera, but modify it to house my modern camera.

my speed graphic with a DSLR inside--please pardon the blurry cell phone pick! My camera was occupied...
I settled on the Speed Graphic, a large-format camera manufactured by Graphlex in Rochester, NY. The Speed Graphic was originally designed specifically for press photographers in the early 20th century, and were produced into the 1970s. The Anniversary Speed Graphic was released during the 1940s, and was the most popular press camera model used during WWII (although there were several others in use). Given its iconic nature, it was a perfect camera for me to carry at the event.

Karen Hermeston, a Canadian combat camerawoman, shooting with an Anniversary Speed Graphic
The Speed Graphics were large format cameras; in particular the anniversary model (which from now on is what I mean when I say "speed graphic") was a 4x5 format. This means that the images were a larger size and the film was individual sheets (rather than a roll), which requires a lot of between-shots work, but gives a ton of control.

anatomy of an Anniversary Speed Graphic
As a camera for shooting action, the Speed Graphic had pretty good range: 24 shutter speeds up to 1/1000. (1/1000 is a fast shutter speed, and the faster the speed the less blurry objects in motion will look.) And while being a mostly-metal camera, it's not unmanageable in terms of weight (although it's still heavy!).  In fact, I shot in about that range with my modern camera at the event.

Photographer Toni Frissell, who volunteered as a photographer for the American Red Cross holding a Speed Graphic
The main body of the Speed Graphic is mostly bellows, with a metal track to roll the bellows in our out. The lens sits in the lens card (about a 4 inch square) at the front of the bellows, and there is an attachment at the top of the camera to see your shot. On one side of the outer body is a handle (super useful!), and the other has a flash mount. This model of Speed Graphic came with one of two backs: either a "Graphlex" or "Graphic"; mine has a "Graphic" back, which has a spring-loaded film area.

the Graphic back, opened
I shoot with a Canon "Rebel" T3i DSLR (commonly referred to as "the baby"), which is the camera I wanted to use for the Reading WWII weekend. In order to disguise it as an Anniversary Speed Graphic, I had some configuring to do.

"the baby"
I mentioned that the Speed Graphic is mostly bellow--this means that while the body looks roomy, it's actually filled with the bellows support framework and 4 metal bars for the back of the film area at the very back. So rather than being able to just slide my DSLR right on into the Speed Graphic body, I had to fit it to the back with the lens sticking through the bellows, and half the body hanging out the back. This meant I couldn't reattach the back flat to the camera body.

With the back removed
After the film backing is cut away
 [Disclaimer: almost everything I did to my Speed Graphic is reversible, but not everything. That's why I made sure to start with a no longer working camera.]

In order to hold the camera in place (without damaging anything), I used velcro strips wound through the interior bars of the Speed Graphic. That way I could remove my DSLR whenever I wanted/needed to, but it would be secure and held firmly in place while inside. To protect the body of my Canon, I layered cotton quilt batting inside the Speed Graphic (which is the fuzzy white stuff in the pictures).
Testing the view while inside the Speed Graphic

Padded and strapped in
Of course, this meant that I still had most of my DLSR body hanging out the back of Speed Graphic, and the whole thing looked pretty ugly.
Holding up the original camera back to where it needed to sit--there's a big DSLR-shaped gap
To fill this gap, I decided to build an extension to the Speed Graphic body. In the end, this made the setup about 5 inches longer than the original camera...but from far away (or even fairly close) it wasn't super noticeable, and I decided that was good enough. I built the extension out of foam board (think science fair presentations) and hot glue, with two openings in the top and bottom to weave the velcro straps through. This meant that everything was attached together, and pretty solid without damaging the DSLR. I also left a small gap in the frame to thread the cord for my remote shutter (which is how I actually took pictures).

the frame
I covered the frame in textured black scrapbooking paper before sponging it with mod poge glossy sealer. This allowed me to mimic the texture of the actual Speed Graphic body so the two looked slightly more cohesive. I attached the original back to this frame extension, and voila! I sneaky Speed Graphic "home" for my DSLR!
the finished contraption, with the DSLR viewfinder and screen through the opened Graphic back
The one majorly inaccurate piece was that I actually shot by looking through the opened camera back, rather than through the actual Speed Graphic viewfinder. It was the best compromise I could come up with...oh well.
My inaccurate shooting form
Putting the monster together was a little tricky, because while I strapped everything into place I needed to periodically check what was visible through the DSLR so that I could make sure the lens wasn't obstructed. (Actually, I didn't figure the process out until the second day of the event, which is why I most of my pictures from the first day didn't quite come out.) The extension also had a tendency to slide around while I was out and about, allowing the batting to poke through. Still, it was a key part of my impression for the weekend, and I had a blast shooting with it! While I want to make some adjustments, this is definitely a prop that will be coming out again.

BONUS! Someone sent me this image, found on Flikr, of me holding the baby in its Speed Graphic shell. Image from Richard Borutta

Friday, February 28, 2014

An Introduction to 19th Century Photography

Browsing posts, Pinterest boards, books, and articles about historical costuming reveals a wide variety of sources we use as inspiration; extant garments, paintings, fashion plates, and portraits are some of the most common. This is true for a lot of periods (although the farther back you go the more scarce extant garments become), because artists have been capturing the human image for centuries and in general we like to be memorably captured in our best clothes.

throwback Thursday: getting captured in our best clothes by eminent "street style" photographer Bill Cunningham in 2012
But something revolutionary happened in the nineteenth century: the process of using a mechanical device to capture an image and, using chemicals and light, create a semi-permanent likeness was developed. In other words, photography was invented. Depending on what you read, there are a lot of dates and inventors associated with the photographic process, and to this day both technology and artistic practices are constantly evolving and experimenting and changing what photography means. This post is just a brief overview, focusing on some highlights that interest me.

19th century tintype, source unknown
The Royal Exchange, London, mid 19th c. by the London Stereoscopic Company
There are two ways of looking at photography as a monumental contribution to our understanding of history (and our ability to re-create it): the subject and the photographer. Most obviously, photographs (or heliographs or daguerreotypes or ambrotypes or tintypes depending on the process used) are taken of something. This allows us, the modern viewer, to see whatever it was that the photographer saw when the image was taken. It might be what our street looked like in the 1860s, what a store might look like, or (of course) what people looked like/wore. Looking at photographic likenesses (rather than paintings or mass-produced illustrations like fashion plates) gives us a chance to inspect details, step into the every day, and witness historic moments.

Mass Ave, Cambridge (right near my house!), mid 19th century, via the Cambridge Public Library Archives
Harvard students at play, 1909, via the Cambridge Public Library Archives
The second way that I find photographs so important for history is what they tell us about the person who took them. In many cases (e.g., studio portraits, journalistic photos), producing images was a trade much the way it is today. But (also like today) photography was also a form of artistic expression, world exploration, and documentation. While certainly there are career photographer’s whose work is important for our understanding of history, I am most fascinated by the world as it was captured by amateurs.

photograph, 1862, by Viscountess Hawarden
children playing, Newcastle, 19th century, photographer unknown
While the roots of modern photography go back as far as the 1810s, it wasn’t until the development of the daguerreotype—the first popular photographic process, named for its inventor Louis Daguerre—and its refinements in the 1840s that portraits could be done relatively easily and cheaply. For the first time, taking a picture of someone or something had a relatively short exposure time and produced a detailed, permanent image. Thanks to the French government’s decision to put the Daguerre process in the public domain, the system took off to capture portraits, scientific findings, astronomical views, urbanization and modern architecture, archeological expeditions, anthropological studies, and an array of artistic experiments over the course of the next two decades.
Salon of Baron Gros, daguerreotype, 1850s via the Met
Two nude women, stereoscopic daguerreotype, 1840s [also they have tiaras!] via the Met
Landscape with cottage, daguerreotype, 1847 via the Met
The Daguerre process used copper plates coated with silver nitrate that were then treated with iodine fumes, exposed to light in the camera, and developed with mercury fumes before being “fixed” with hyposulphite of soda. In the 1850s, the invention of Albumen paper by Louis Blanquart-Evrard introduced the first paper photographic prints. Albumen was cheap, portable, and could be purchased in lard quantities. This further aided the popularity of both professional and amateur photography because while immediate development of the image (and therefore an on-site darkroom) was still required, it made the process cheaper for patrons, more approachable for photographers, and more portable. While not quite as clear daguerreotypes, albumen photographs could have multiple prints of a single image, and they were also much better for pasting into photo albums. While the daguerreotype stayed popular in the US into the early 1860s, albumen paper-printed photographs eventually overtook them it.

"Transporting the Bavaria Statue to Theresienwiese", Albumen print, 1850
As the photographic process became faster, cheaper, and easier over the second half of the 19th century, likenesses became a much larger part of everyday life. New technologies developed better lenses and smaller cameras, while new chemical approaches changed development. Stereoscopic images brought pictures into 3 dimensions. Births, deaths, marriages, and lazy summer afternoons were documented for posterity. Fabulous clothes were captured. We can see many of these images today in archives and online, which is a really neat way to jump into the past.

So I will leave you with a quote to think about, and some images to inspire you. What photographs have shaped your vision of the past? Do you like using them for research?

Photography transcends the bounds of time and space. It enables you to see at great distances things that you could never see, to know things that you could never know, to see events that have passed and no longer exist. “ Grant Romer, PBS

unidentified couple on stilts
Expedition to Egypt, 1850
portable portrait studio, Ireland, c.1870
c.1870
Bazaar stall, 1867
Read more about the birth of modern photography:

Articles at the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Louis Daguerre, The Daguerrian Age in France, and photography on Egyptian expeditions

19th Century Photographic Processes and Formats and the Concord Public Library