Photography, A Medium Of Expression

“As an illustrator and portrait photographer, Miss Alice Boughton, has achieved a prominent place in American photography. Six of the illustrations in this number of CAMERA WORK are devoted to her photographs. To more fully understand Miss Boughton’s particular point of view we reprint an article she wrote for “The Scrip,” December, 1905. This article in parts conflicts with some of our own views on photography, but we wish to reiterate for the nth time that articles published in the magazine do not necessarily reflect our own views. As a matter of fact but few of them do. It has been our policy — and it will continue to be our policy — to print such articles as we deem timely, interesting or provocative of discussion.” — Editors.

Issues and contents – Number 26, April 1909 
Photographs: six by Alice Boughton; one by J. Craig Annan; one by George Davison.
Texts: Benjamin de Casseres, “Caricature and New York”; Sir (Caspar) Purdon Clarke on “Art” and Oscar Wilde on “The Artist”; J. Nilsen Laurvik on the show International Photography at the National Arts Club: miscellaneous others.

PHOTOGRAPHY, A MEDIUM OF EXPRESSION

By Miss Alice Boughton

The highest praise — supposedly praise — which is ever applied to a print, is, that it does not look like a photograph, meaning the ordinary, hard, retouched reproduction, which people in general are accustomed to see. It is this latter thing, which the public have had so long as an ideal, which gives rise to such a remark.

The modern movement started among the amateurs, not among the photographers. The amateurs wanted to have a little fun, to express themselves. Not being of the profession, they went at it with a free hand, unhampered by tradition. The cheapness of the camera allowed the many to indulge. Also, the more ambitious wished to experiment with different kinds of papers, from the ordinary silver print, to sepia and water-colour. As these became more interested, there appeared in the field new workers of intelligence and imagination, who gradually acquired understanding of the medium. Having something to say, they tried to say it. If they did not always succeed, still they worked on, undisturbed by the jeers and gibes of the professional and his accepted, academic point of view. At the present moment, it is the professional who no longer scoffs, but tries to keep up and be in, what he thinks is the fashion, not really comprehending how and why it has come about.

The so-called “new school” has this to guard against, a sacrifice of idea to technique, pure and simple, so that one becomes conscious of an effort to disguise, rather than use the camera. We hear much of a photograph, “like a Rembrandt,” “a Holbein,” “a Whistler,” and so on. This is simply the imitative instinct rather than the creative; but as the latter is the rarest gift in any art, one may be tolerant of that phase, even though it does not satisfy deeper desires. The conception is of primary importance, while technique, ability to handle the tools, is, not only not to be despised, but absolutely necessary. To have their productions not in the least resemble a photograph, seems to be the goal of some of the new workers, but this attitude is both forced and false. Why not avowedly use the camera? Why be ashamed, because it is not something else? It is partly this bias of mind, and partly the pleasure derived from mere cleverness, which has swung the pendulum too far in the direction of the non-academic, which, in its turn becomes just as unspontaneous and formal. Why strain after effects, which are ultra-forced and not quite sincere, when so much can be done simply and directly? Much discussion has arisen as to whether photography is a fine art, many declaring that it is. This claims too much, for, after all, the mechanical plays in it too important a part for such extravagant praise. This however, does not alter the fact that photography can be made valuable means of expression and has some real art value.

This suggests the most artistic, perhaps, of all photographic prints – the gum-bichromate, usually known as “a gum.” The paper is not to be bought, but is freshly prepared in the studio, by coating with a mixture of gum-arabic, a sensitizer and any color desired. As the texture of papers varies so greatly, the prints produced from the same plate will be exceedingly different according to the kind used. It may be charcoal, letter-paper, Japanese tissue, or other. This particular kind of print is manipulated like a charcoal drawing, only, instead of using the finger or bread to remove color, a fine stream of water or a soft sable brush is applied, thus removing the pigment and bringing out the spots of light while the print is kept very wet. These prints are especially adapted to nude figures, in and out of doors, as one is able to suggest outline and modelling rather than actual, detailed representation, carrying the development on farther in some places than in others. The bugbear of the photographer with any art instinct is the undue importance which non-essentials assume in a photographic plate. The gum-print makes it more possible than in other kinds to subdue and eliminate unimportant detail. It becomes almost freehand work, so sensitive is the wet print to the touch. It is impossible to make any two prints alike, and the difficulties are very great in producing a successful one. The flexibility of the material in this case makes the personality of the artist a factor in its production. If the personality be interesting enough, also the subject, the result may approach a work of art.

The glycerine print allows a more limited freedom; the result has somewhat the appearance of a wash-drawing. A platinum print is covered with glycerine, and the parts to be brought out are developed by means of a brush. The glycerine retards development, so that the process can be regulated by keeping a sufficient quantity over the portions to be omitted and letting it run off into an irregular and undefined edge. The great variety of papers now in use cannot be gone into at length. Platinum paper is undoubtedly very generally used. In this are many shades of greys, blacks, and browns. These are the kinds to be seen everywhere in the commercial photograph gallery and in the studio of higher grade. There are carbons and ozotypes and the shiny gelatine print. One paper not very much used, on account of its cost and the delicacy required in handling, is the Japanese tissue, sensitized to take to the image. This, in general, is less hard and defined than the well-known platinum, and often gives charming effects.

The uses of photography are multiplying for such purposes as illustration and advertising. It gives clear, accurate reproductions, which are of priceless value to the scientist. The definition found so difficult to soften and lose in the search for artistic effects is here of greatest assistance, precisely because of its brilliancy of detail. Its weakness is here its strength, and much has been accomplished in that branch alone which deals with movement, – running, jumping, flying appearances and instantaneous attitudes of bird, beast and fish, of earthquakes and cyclones, comets and meteors. Through the whole list of the sciences, from astronomy to medicine, it is being adopted.

But to return to artistic photography – though the adjective is overworked in these days – no word has yet been said of the conditions which exist in the studio, of the relations between photographer and sitter, and of the many things which go to make up a successful photograph, which must also be a portrait. Among the many who admire this “new photography” and say it is just what they want, there still lingers the old ideal of retouched prettiness, and if the result does not fit this preconceived notion, they will none of it.

It has already been said that the photographer must first of all have ideas, that he must understand his tools and that his personality plays so prominent a part that it cannot be undervalued. He must have tact, the social instinct, and infinite patience. In doing children, for instance, he must amuse, watch for the right moment, be constantly and continually on the alert, and work for the unconsciousness which is one of their chief charms. With grown people, although great rapidity is not so essential, there are other requirements. The photographer should be intuitive, to be able to get in touch with his subject, just as the painter; to study character every moment while not ostensibly doing so, and to be ready when the right instant presents itself. This is not an easy task, and frequently incurs the spoiling of several plates, besides taxing the utmost resources of the photographer. The painter usually has several sittings, sees his subject under varying conditions in different moods, has a chance, in short, to become acquainted with the personality he is to portray. The photographer, on the other hand, has one moderately short session, and for that reason, too, he must sharpen his wits.

He should realize at once how different persons should be done; which require delicate treatment and which can stand strong contrasts. Sometimes a light scheme of whites and greys, by the very closeness of the values, can suggest the etheral quality of a delicate child, or a young girl, or frail old age. Heavy blacks and browns are for persons with color and brunettes, and are strong masses for men. In between come a countless number of gradations, from the subtlety of a fine drawing to the Rembrandtesque distribution of lights and shades. The photographer also must understand pose and lighting. Composition in itself suggests endless variety, the word being used in the painter’s sense. Here one of the limitations looms large.

That there shall be one centre of interest is necessary, and that the parts should not apparently be out of focus. A good composition presupposes a “pleasing arrangement of shapes.” This is, of course, an art phrase, but entirely applicable. By it is meant that the design – which may be a single figure or a group – shall fill the size plate used in an agreeable manner.

To repeat, if the photographer has sufficient insight to perceive the interest and character of the sitter, the result may be a real achievement. This does not necessarily mean that the subject should be beautiful or graceful, or “know how to pose.” It is the photographers’ business to try and seize upon and bring out the innate quality the individuality or charm of each.

Referring to the statement at the beginning that photography can hardly be classed as a fine art, it has been and will be in the future of great service in establishing a truer art ideal that at present exists among the mass of people and many so-called artists.

Much of modern art has for its motif exact representation of facts, cleverly rendered, or arrangements of tones and lines – the exterior of things. Why spend years of labor to achieve this result, which any one with an educated taste can accomplish, barring color, with a machine? Already there seem to be signs that the public recognize this and begin to demand more vital things.

The phrase “work of art” will in time be used more sparingly, and will designate creations of a mind gifted with poetic and imaginative insight. If the camera by its very limitations can further this point of view, it has, indeed, rendered a service to art.