The Nation's First-Photographer?

Malia Obama, First-Kid and First-Photographer, AP Photo

Her Dad is the President. Her Mom is the First-Lady. She and her little sister are the First-Children. But might Malia also be the First-Photographer? She looks quite comfortable wielding that Kodak point-n-shoot.

CLICK HERE to see more pics of Malia snapping pics at the inauguration and elsewhere, as well as some great commentary about her doing so.

Early Firsts In Photography

From Eadweard Muybridge's high speed photo series.

Someone I'm following on Twitter posted a link to an interesting article on a site called, The List Universe. The List Universe article, titled, "Top 10 Incredible Early Firsts In Photography." is pretty interesting stuff! Check it out!

Notable Exhibitions at the LACMA

Imogen Cunningham (United States, 1883-1976), Magnolia Blossom, 1925

Thanks to a reader, I've been given a heads-up on (not one, but) two, impressive photography exhibitions at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Both exhibitions run for another month or two and I'm going to make it my business to go down there and check them out.

LACMA's Hammer Building is home to Vanity Fair Portraits: Photographs 1913–2008 running through March 1, 2009. By its title, this exhibition photographically speaks for itself.

Right next door, housed in LACMA's Ahmanson Building, is A Story of Photography: The Marjorie and Leonard Vernon Collection, running through February 1, 2009. This exhibition includes over seventy photographs by the likes of Ansel Adams, Julia Margaret Cameron, Edward Steichen, Paul Strand, W.H. Fox Talbot, and Edward Weston.

Both of these exhibitions look awesome and I can't wait to go there and view all the photography on display.

If you're going to be in or near Los Angeles in the next month, you might consider planning your itinerary to include a visit to LACMA. If you live in or near L.A., maybe I'll see you there.

Genius of Photography

"Bichonnade Leaping," by Jacques-Henri Lartigue, © Jacques-Henri Lartigue Foundation

Photographer, Kenn Ellis, was good enough to send me the BBC's incredible, 6-part series, "Genius of Photography," on DVD. Thanks again, Kenn!

Leave it to the BBC to produce a quality series like this!

Sometimes, I think American broadcasters don't have a clue about what many Americans are interested in... other than cops-n-robbers, doctors-n-patients, lawyers-n-lawyers, and so on. Few hobbies are as widely embraced (with plenty of money spent on it) as photography. Yet, if what you see about photography on the tube is any indication--from PBS to Reality TV--you would think shows about photography and photographers don't have much of a potential audience.

All that aside, watching the BBC's "Genius of Photography" is an entertaining experience as well as a comprehensive learning experience covering the history of shutter-snapping, complete with bios of its most memorable practitioners and with plenty of images and keen insights into the creative minds of many photo-artists . It's a classy, literate, and memorable crash course in the art and craft of photography.

If you have the opportunity to view this program, I highly recommend doing so. By the way, the image at the top, "Bichonnade Leaping," by Jacques-Henri Lartigue, was shot about a hundred years ago. Recently, I viewed some images by an up-n-coming shooter. The images are called "Floaters." Some art critic types were calling this photographer's images--of people jumping and frozen-in-the-air with the help of fast shutter speeds (as if they're floating, get it?) new and original. I wonder what Lartigue would have to say about that?

Under the Covers

Way back in 2002--okay, 2002 wasn't all that long ago--a close friend of mine, filmmaker Bill Day, released his documentary film, "Under the Covers."

"Under the Covers" is an extremely entertaining (sort of) biography of photographer Henry Diltz and rock-album cover artist, Gary Burden.

On the location shoot I just recently spent three days working on, there was a guy on-set who works for Rhino Records and, when I told him Bill Day is a good friend, he told me that "Under the Covers" is one of his favorite, all-time, docs about rock history. Here's another Henry Diltz link, this one courtesy of Rhino Records.

Perhaps you've never heard of these two guys but their artistic collaboration produced some of the most famous and iconic album covers in American rock history. From the Doors to Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young to (the) Eagles, and more. Much more.

If you're interested in a behind-the-scenes look at the making of these covers, that is, the stories and photos under the covers, Bill has posted clips from his rock-history, documentary film.

For a journey back through rock & roll history, check out the clip (below) from Bill's documentary. This one is about the making of the first Eagles cover. There's more YouTube links to scenes from Bill Day's really cool doc, "Under the Covers." Shouldn't be hard to find 'em. Subscribe to Bill's YouTube channel. That'll make it easy.

First Photos

I've been quite busy and unable to update this week. Looking forward, I have a three-day photo gig that begins tomorrow morning. So I thought, as long as I'm looking forward to three days work, I'll just leave all of you with something looking backward. Some of it way backward. Like the image above, from 1826, which purports to be the first photographic image ever snapped. If you want to see more photo "firsts," CLICK HERE. The website you'll be directed to--a truly eclectic blog with subject matter that is, well, all over the map--has a whole series of first photos of various kinds. (NOTE: There is a smattering of potentially NSFW imagery here and there at the link I've provided.)

Festival X

If you happen to be in or near Eastern Ontario or Western Quebec this week or next, you might want to check out the second annual photography celebration known as Festival X. It runs September 18 to 28 at art galleries, public buildings and restaurants in Ottawa and Gatineau.

Ottawa and Gatineau, BTW, are two Canadian cities separated by a river and, to a lesser extent, two languages. If you're knowledge of Canadian geography wouldn't help much in a game of Trivial Pursuit, Gatineau is a city in Quebec, Canada. (Where much of the population speaks French.) It lies directly across the Ottawa River from Ottawa, Ontario, the Canadian capital. (Where most of the population speaks English.)

The theme for this year's festival is The Decisive Moment. It was chosen to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the birth of iconic French photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson. The festival also includes a screening of Heinz Butler's 2006 documentary film, "Henri Cartier-Bresson: The Impassioned Eye."

Cartier-Bresson said: "There is a creative fraction of a second when you are taking a picture. Your eye must see a composition or an expression that life itself offers you, and you must know with intuition when to click the camera. That is the moment the photographer is creative."

I'm guessing that's why Henri's camera of choice was a rangefinder, a 35mm Leica Rangefinder to be exact. Why? Well, for one thing, since there's no moving mirror in a rangefinder, i.e., like there is in an SLR, there is no momentary blackout of the subject being photographed. You know, as in a blackout during the moment it clicks or, as Cartier-Bresson said, in that decisive "moment the photographer is creative."

Here's a Cartier-Bresson pic, "Martine's Legs." Dude sure could shoot!

Spirit Photography

During the last half of the 19th Century, spirit photography, i.e., attempting to capture manifestations of spirits (make that ghosts) utilizing photographic processes, became wildly popular. It's popularity went all the way to the White House!

Who knew Abe and Martha had enough spare time on their hands--what with the Civil War raging on and all--to get bit by the spirit photography bug?

To this day, the art and craft of spirit photography lives on although, admittedly, not with the same zeal as it did 150 years ago. Most modern day practitioners attempt a more scientific approach in their quests to find evidence that spirits walk amongst us. (I wonder if they teach a class in spirit photography at the Brooks Institute?)

The vast majority of spirit photographs have been debunked as fraud. Yet still, a few examples defy logic and fuel the search for photographic proof that there is an afterlife. Hollywood has exploited the spirit of the spirit photography craze a few times. The recent feature film, Shutter, is a good example. Hollywood's "Shutter" is a remake of a Thai horror film of the same title. I haven't seen either version but I'll bet the original is, as is usually the case, a scarier better film. You can check out the trailer for the original "Shutter" HERE.

For a more detailed history of spirit photography, CLICK HERE. If you're interested in learning even more, a spirit photography Google search yields many more results. Or, simply sit back and take a look at the short video I found on YouTube that briefly examines the history of spirit photography.

By the way, if you're wondering why I'm so captivated with photography's past, I believe that learning about the history of photography and the work of its greatest craftsmen and artists helps me better understand photography's present state. Leastwise, that's a big chunk of the reason. Besides, who knows? Learning about this stuff might even help make me a better shooter. Stranger things have happened.

The Father of American Photojournalism

I guess I'm still on a history jag. At some point, I'll get back to photography of a more contemporary nature, maybe even some of my own.

So who was this guy (pictured left) they call the father of American photojournalism? Well, most historians credit Mathew Brady with that distinction.

Brady, as you probably already know, was most famous for photo-documenting the U.S. Civil War. But his portfolio was not limited to Civil War battle images. He was also a portrait photographer who captured the likenesses of many famous people of his era, albeit the majority of them Union and Confederate officers. U.S. President Abraham Lincoln posed in front of Brady's camera more than a few times. In fact, one of Brady's photos of Lincoln is still used on the $5 bill, another graced the Lincoln penny.

Unfortunately, much of Brady's work is lost. After the war, the majority of the glass, photographic plates he used to record America's most devastating war were sold and used in greenhouses. (Hmm... There's something poetic about that: Images recording the death and tragedy of war used as components for structures nurturing life. Sort of a swords to plowshares concept.)

Most people probably aren't aware that many of the images credited to Brady weren't actually snapped by Brady. I know I was surprised to learn this fact.

Mathew Brady, it seems, employed a team of photographers and assistants to photo-document scenes from the Civil War. Alexander Gardner, James Gardner, Timothy H. O'Sullivan, William Pywell, George N. Barnard, and Thomas C. Roche were the photographers he employed. Seventeen other men, from assistants to darkroom technicians, were also employed. Brady's field production crews were equipped with traveling darkrooms. For most of the war, Brady remained in Washington, D.C., organizing and managing the business side of photo-capturing the Civil War. Although Brady personally photographed the Battle of Bull Run--and was nearly captured while doing so--he visited few battlefields after that. This might have been due to Brady's deteriorating eyesight. A malady that began in the 1850s.

Sadly, the father of American photojournalism died alone and broke in the charity ward of Presbyterian Hospital in New York City. (Wow! Photographers and other artists dying broke. How unusual.) It's estimated Brady lost over $100,000 producing the 10,000+ photographic plates his crews exposed while documenting the war: A rather large sum back in those days.

Shorpy's Blog

For the few of you who semi-regularly visit this blog, you've probably figured out I'm more than a little interested in history and things of a historical nature including, but not limited to, all things photographic.

As such, I was happy to discover the photographic wonderments of Shorpy: The 100-Year-Old Photo Blog. (Hat tip to Pop Photo's State of the Art blog for pointing me to Shorpy.)

No, the Shorpy blog itself isn't 100-years-old. D'uh. Blogs didn't exist 100 years ago. Neither did the internet... except, perhaps, in the futurist minds of writers like Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, although I don't believe either of them ever wrote about it. (But I could be wrong.)

Instead, Shorpy is a photoblog featuring high-definition images from the first half of the 20th century. The site is named after Shorpy Higginbotham, a 14-year-old boy who worked in an Alabama coal mine and ironworks in the 1910s. I doubt Shorpy could ever have dreamed his name and likeness would someday grace the masthead of something called a "photoblog." But who knows? Perhaps Shorpy, like Verne and Wells, was somewhat precognitive? Stranger things have happened!

At the top is a picture of a young, grease-soaked, Shorpy, photographed by Lewis Wickes Hine, standing front-and-center amongst a group of his (also quite young) co-workers at the old mine and ironworks. Hine is one of my all-time-favorite editorial photographers. His images of child labor in turn-of-the-century American industry, as well as his photo-documentation of the construction of the Empire State Building in New York City, are indelibly etched in the history of American photojournalism.

If you're like me and you enjoy viewing photographic glimpses of the past, you'll probably spend some quality time at Shorpy: The 100-Year-Old Photo Blog.

A Brief History of... Spudography?

While photography is my #1 passion, I do have other interests: Archaeology and history being two of them. As a result, two of my favorite rags are Smithsonian and Archaeology magazines.

While Archaeology magazine often features average, snapshot-quality, photos accompanying their incredibly interesting articles, Smithsonian magazine provides some amazing photography to illustrate theirs. Smithsonian also features articles, on a fairly regular basis, that focus on the history of photography and/or historically important photographers.

Recently, I had a doctor's appointment and, while waiting to see the Doc, I spotted a September, 2007, issue of Smithsonian lying in the waiting area. BTW, I get my medical care from the VA. (Veterans Administration) Apparently, the VA has lots of people who donate magazines. There's always stacks of them in the waiting areas, albeit they are mostly somewhat dated, usually by a few months or more. Sometimes much more. Although I often purchase Smithsonian, somehow I had missed purchasing that particular issue--I guess I should subscribe instead of buying @ newsstands--so I snatched it and immediately decided to bring it home with me. Generally, I don't exhibit thieving ways but I made an exception in this case. (I hope that didn't cost me much in Karma points.)

There's an article in the September, 2007, issue of Smithsonian that roused my curiosity as both a photographer and history buff. It's titled, "Color Comes to Photography."

According to the Smithsonian's report, "The most improbable object imaginable--the lowly, lumpy potato--played a leading role in the great leap forward of color photography."

It seems that, back in 1903, the Lumière brothers--notable figures in the history of photography whose family name may or may not have been hijacked as a term for the the measurement of luminous flux, i.e., the perceived power of light called lumens--developed a dazzling new photographic process they called autochrome. ( A process more commonly referred to as color photography.) The Lumières developed this exciting process with the help of some pommes de terre which, if you speak French, you know means potatoes. Yep! Potatoes! Those wonderful, starchy, veggies we cook in so many ways. The French, of course, also made a certain recipe for pommes de terre quite popular by peeling them, cutting them, cooking them in hot oil and salting them thus transforming potatoes into French Fries! (Thank you mon frers! But why do you Frenchies dip your fries in mayonnaise rather than ketchup? You guys lose gastronomy points for that odd and unappealing habit. Leastwise, in my book you do.)

Anyway, somehow and someway those clever Lumière brothers figured out they could grind potatoes and apply the potato dust to photographic plates and, in so doing and with long exposures of a minute or so, manage to end up with a color image. How people figure this kind of stuff out is a total mystery to me. Potatoes into color photos? Go figure.

The lumières' new autochrome photographic plates were an immediate success and soon their factory was working overtime to meet the demand for potato-infused, color-producing plates. Famous photographers like Edward Steichen, Alfred Stieglitz, and Alvin Coburn were quick to embrace the new process. The Smithsonian article features some great examples of early 20th Century color spudography including a rare color portrait of Mr. Samuel Langhorne Clemens, a.k.a., Mark Twain.

The Lumières' autochrome process remained the king of color photography for over 30 years! Until it was dethroned, that is, by Kodachrome and Agfacolor film.

This update is, for the most part, a reprint of an article I wrote about a year ago for another blog. Here's a nice set of autochromes, courtesy of the George Eastman House, posted on Flickr.

A Glimpse Into Photography's Past

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away (or so it feels like) I was a collector and trader of all sorts of antique and vintage things. For some reason, I never got into collecting vintage cameras. Go figure. I was more into furniture, pottery, art, and ephemera. You should see all the nice pieces my ex-wife has!

My daughter was having a yard sale last week and, in her garage, she came across a box with some books and magazines I had packed-up at some time or another. In the box, amongst some other stuff, were a half-dozen issues of Outing Magazine I squirreled away. Outing was a late-nineteenth to early-twentieth-century rag covering a variety of sporting and related activities.

I picked out a February, 1894, issue of Outing from the box and thumbed through its dog-eared pages. Near the back of this 19th century zine were a few advertisements related to photography. I decided to scan a few of the pages, the full page ad from American Amateur Photographer (seen above) being one of them.

American Amateur Photographer was edited by Alfred Stieglitz, a major player in the history of photography. Besides recognition for his photos, Steiglitz is generally credited with forcing the art community to recognize photography as a legitimate art form or, in his words, "...as a distinctive medium of individual expression."

Thank you, Mr. Stieglitz! Every serious photographer today owes you gratitude.

Stieglitz was born in 1864 in my home state of New Jersey. (Add another Jersey boy to that big list of famous Jersey boys.) He was a great friend to photographer Ansel Adams whose photographs a few of you might, at one time another, have taken a look at. Stieglitz's photography is well-remembered for his portraits of the famous, American Southwest artist, Georgia O'Keefe. (The second Mrs. Stieglitz.)

A slight segue: Just recently, while wandering around YouTube, I came across a video interview with Ms. O'Keefe. She was 92 when the footage was shot. If interested, you can view the Georgia O'Keefe clip HERE. I certainly enjoyed it.

Seen to the right is another page I scanned from the same Outing issue. The "Premier Camera" advert, courtesy of the Rochester Optical Co., gave me a chuckle. (Rochester? Hmmm... Didn't some other photo company call Rochester, NY, home?)

According to Premier, "Bicyclists, canoeists, tourists, and lovers of outdoor amusements are not all amateur photographers but they should be."

Today, well over a century later, it seems that hundreds of thousands of photographers have taken Premier's advice to heart.

Anyway, just thought I'd share. Sorry about that hideous line through the scans. It seems my cheap, Brother, scanner went and got it's glass cracked last time I moved. Oh well.