THE STORY OF PHOTOGRAPHY
By PAUL L. ANDERSON
Artist Photographer, Author of “Pictorial Photography”
MENTOR GRAVURES
PHOTOGRAPH FROM A DAGUERREOTYPE
SELF-PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPH BY D. O. HILL
BROOKS’ COMET
MENTOR GRAVURES
PORTRAIT BY BROMOIL PROCESS
THE LAKE, WINTER
ILLUSTRATION FOR A STORY
A DAGUERREOTYPE
Entered as second-class matter March 10, 1913, at the postoffice at New York, N. Y., under the act of March 3, 1879. Copyright, 1918, by The Mentor Association, Inc.
Numerous investigators, Daguerre, Niépce, Fox Talbot, and others, have been credited with the discovery of photography, but the fact seems to be that these, and many more, merely contributed, each in his turn, some portion of the total that goes to make up the art as it now stands. Photography means, literally, “light-writing,” the name being derived from two Greek words, phos, light, and graphein, to write. The practice of photography depends primarily on the fact that certain chemical compounds are changed into other compounds by the action of light. Another fact is closely allied with this, namely, that a suitably constructed lens of glass or other transparent material, or a fine needle-hole used instead of a lens, will project the image of objects placed in front of it. A camera, then, consists of a light-tight box having at one end an arrangement for holding a lens or a card with a needle-hole in it, and at the other end a device for holding some light-sensitive chemical to receive the image projected by the lens. In modern practice this light-sensitive chemical is almost always bromide of silver or a mixture of the bromide with other silver compounds, these chemicals being held in an emulsion of gelatine. When the gelatine emulsion is coated in a thin film on a sheet of glass the result is known as a dry-plate, or, simply, a plate. When it is coated on a strip of celluloid wound on rollers so that successive portions may be exposed to light, it is called a roll film, and when it is coated on separate sheets of celluloid, arranged like a pad, to be exposed successively, it is called a film pack. A similar emulsion coated on paper gives bromide or gas-light paper, which, as will be seen later, is used for making prints. At one time wet collodion plates were generally used, a sheet of glass being coated with collodion and sensitized by bathing it with iodide of silver. The exposure was made before the plate dried; but these plates were inconvenient to handle and have been almost entirely superseded by the gelatine dry plate. The prepared plate, of whatever type it may be, is placed in the camera and exposed for a longer or shorter time, depending on circumstances, to the light projected by the lens, but no image is visible after exposure, (unless, indeed, the exposure has been tremendously excessive,) and the plate must be developed.
From a platinum print by Gertrude Käsebier
“BLESSED ART THOU AMONG WOMEN”
Portrait Photograph
From a photograph by Paul L. Anderson
A COUNTRY STATION MASTER
Portrait Photograph
There are about fifty different reducing agents on the market; most of them are derived from coal-tar, though some are made from nut-galls, lichens, and other substances. The developer consists of a solution in water of one or more of these reducing agents, with other chemicals to control the action, the exposed plate being bathed in this solution, either in the dark or in a light to which the plate is not sensitive. Wherever light has acted on the silver salts the developer causes metallic silver to be deposited in proportion to the amount of light-action, so that on holding the developed plate up to the light a dense deposit is seen in those parts representing the brightest portions of the subject, while the shadows of the original are represented by thin areas, and the half-tones by deposits of intermediate density. For this reason the developed plate is called a negative. The plate is then bathed in a solution of sodium thiosulphate (generally called “hypo”), which dissolves the unaffected silver salt but does not affect the metallic silver—or at least does so only very slowly. Next, the plate is washed in water to remove all unnecessary chemicals, and is dried. The ordinary plate is sensitive only to ultra-violet (invisible) and violet light, so it cannot render truthfully any subject having color, but by the addition of certain aniline dyes to the emulsion it may be rendered sensitive to green in addition to violet and ultra-violet; it is then described as orthochromatic (“right-colored”) or isochromatic (“equally-colored”). Still other dyes extend the sensitiveness to include not only ultra-violet but also the entire visible spectrum; such a plate is called pan-chromatic (“all-colored”).
From a photograph by Paul L. Anderson
A PORTRAIT PHOTOGRAPH
Printing the Photograph
The finished negative, when dry, must of course be printed, and there are many printing mediums available. The carbon process gives an image in lamp-black or some earth pigment, bound up in a film of gelatine; the gum-pigment process gives an image similar to that of carbon, the binder in this case being gum arabic; the platinum process gives an image of black metallic platinum direct on the paper support. Other processes give different effects, one of the most valuable to the pictorial worker being gum-platinum, in which a completed platinum print is coated with a gum-pigment film and printed under the negative a second time, the final result being a gum-pigment image superposed on the platinum image. Of all printing mediums the one that has most intrinsic beauty, and is at the same time most capable of rendering satisfactorily the gradations of the negative, is probably platinum, so this is most used by pictorial workers. But, since it is expensive and requires daylight or strong artificial light for printing, nearly all commercial workers prefer the somewhat less beautiful and less permanent, but more convenient, gas-light paper, so-called because it can be manipulated entirely by gas-light, neither daylight nor a dark-room being required. This medium consists of paper that has been coated with an emulsion somewhat similar to that used for plates, but requiring much longer exposure. The negative is placed in an appliance that holds it in close contact with the paper, then a sheet of paper is put in, and an exposure of a few seconds is given. Obviously, the paper receives most light under the thin parts of the negative and less under the denser portions, so that when the print is developed, fixed, washed and dried the resulting picture is light where the original subject was light, dark where that was dark, and show intermediate gradations where these existed in the original.
Photograph by Karl Struss
CAPRI, ITALY
From a bromoil transfer by Charles Kendall
THE SHADOW OF A SIGN
For purposes of reproduction two processes depending on photography have almost entirely superseded the older methods of etching and wood engraving. These photo-mechanical processes, as they are called, are far more rapid and much cheaper, and are, in addition, more accurate. In photo-gravure the photographic image—copied by photographing the original—is transferred to a copper plate and the plate is automatically etched in an acid bath to varying depths, depending on the depth of shadow in the original. This plate is then inked all over, the ink being worked into the depressions in the copper, and the surface ink wiped off. A sheet of paper is brought into contact with the plate under heavy pressure, and, being forced into the hollows of the copper and taking up the ink from them, a print results. In the less beautiful but cheaper and more rapid half-tone process the copy is made through a cross-ruled glass screen, the image being thus broken up into a series of dots. The image so obtained is transferred to a zinc plate, which is etched in an acid bath or with an acid spray. The dots serve to protect the zinc from the action of the acid.[A] The finished plate shows an image consisting of dots with hollows between them, the dots being large and near together in the shadows, small and far apart in the lights. This plate is inked with a roller, and a sheet of paper, lightly pressed against it, takes up the ink to form a print. Thus it will be seen that photo-gravure is an intaglio (cut-in) process, and half-tone a surface-printing process.
[A] See cut on page 9.
Photographic Illustrations
From a platinum print by W. E. Macnaughton
SCENE ON THE CONNECTICUT RIVER
Photography has not only superseded manual processes for reproduction, but has also largely replaced them for purposes of illustration. Practically all news illustrations are now made by photography, which is also extensively used for advertising work. To a less extent it is employed for fiction illustration, admirable work having been done in this field by Clarence H. White, Karl Struss, and Lejaren à Hiller. It does not, however, seem probable that photography will ever entirely replace draughtsmanship for the illustration of fiction, since the very strength of the camera,—that is, its surpassing power of rendering accurately the outlines and gradations of natural objects,—operates as a severe limitation in the case of original, imaginative work. It is difficult to conceive of “The Fall of the House of Usher” or “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” being satisfactorily illustrated by photography, and if, for instance, “Le Morte d’Arthur” were made a photographic subject, the cost of models, costumes and scenery would probably be excessive.
From a carbon print by H. Y. Sümmons
“THE STYGIAN SHORE”
Despite the limitations of the camera as regards imaginative work there is a small but devoted band of photographers who use the camera as a means of artistic expression, and these men and women have produced some wonderfully fine results that fulfil the definition of art: “A means of arousing an emotion in the spectator.” In the last analysis, however, it will be found that such results are due to one of two methods of approach: either the careful selection of an unusual natural effect, or the use of one of the so-called “control processes”—that is, printing mediums that allow the worker to modify at will either the outlines or the gradations of the negative, or both. In the former case, however, the photographer cannot be regarded as more than an exceptionally sensitive and perceptive craftsman, and in the latter instance the camera user, of course, ceases to be a photographer and becomes a creative artist, using photography merely as a basis on which to construct an imaginative result. The possibilities of this second method of work have not yet been fully explored; they appear to be limitless.
The Precision of Photography
Photograph by Struss
AFTERNOON SUN
The Biltmore, New York
Photograph by Struss
A MISTY DAY
Chatham Square, New York
Photograph by Struss
SUNSHINE AND SHADOW
Park Row, New York
Photograph by Struss
SUNLIGHT ON SURF
The literalness of photography, which prevents its ever competing with etching or painting in imaginative art, makes it of inestimable value in certain realms, and scientists of all sorts, astronomers, physicists, physicians, pathologists, as well as architects, building contractors, business men, who wish a precise and accurate record of any object, recognize the value of the camera. Photographs are often admitted as legal evidence in court. It is impossible to overstate the value of the dry-plate to the surgeon, since the X-ray, generated by passing an electric discharge through a glass tube from which most of the air has been exhausted, penetrates many objects that are opaque to ordinary light, and, though invisible to the eye, nevertheless affect a photographic plate, thus making possible a precise diagnosis of fractured bones, gun-shot wounds, digestive disturbances, and many other pathological conditions in which diagnosis without a radiograph would be mere guesswork.
In portraiture, photography is superior to any other graphic art, since the camera worker can, by judicious selection of lighting, pose and facial expression, render the character of the sitter quite as well as the draughtsman, this being the final test in portrait work, though it must be admitted that few portrait photographers meet this requirement.
Microphotography
By Paul L. Anderson
PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN IN A SNOWSTORM
New York
The human eye and mind are, from a mechanical point of view, but imperfect instruments. Admirably as they serve the purpose for which they are designed, it is nevertheless impossible for them to observe with absolute accuracy. The camera, however, has no such limitations; its observations are accurate and its records unquestionable, so long as no definite effort is made to impair their exactness. For this reason photography is used not only in astronomy but in many other branches of science, among its most important uses being the making of records of microscopic objects.
A device carrying a photographic plate is attached to the eye-piece of a microscope; the plate being exposed affords, on development, a precise record of the subject under observation. It may be noted that in this case, as in astronomical photography, no camera lens is required; the microscope, like the telescope, projects an aërial image which is impressed on the plate. It thus becomes possible for the microscopist to study at leisure a photograph of the object that was in the field of the microscope, and thereby eliminate eye-strain and minimize the likelihood of overlooking any feature of interest. It is further possible to make lantern-slides from the negative so obtained. A lecturer by this means is enabled to show the photograph to a large group of individuals simultaneously.
Photograph by Struss
By courtesy of Cleveland Metal Products Co.
ADVERTISING ILLUSTRATION
An example of commercial photography
THUMB-PRINT ON DARK WOOD
Finger-prints are made visible by dusting with a fine powder, and are photographed with a special detective camera
Though the photographic plate thus extends the usefulness of the microscope, this is not the limit of its value in this respect. Light is transmitted by waves, similar in some ways to waves in water, the light waves being disturbances of the light-bearing ether, an invisible, imponderable substance of zero density and infinite elasticity, which pervades all matter. (It must be understood that the ether has never been observed nor its actual existence proven; it is, however, a necessary assumption for the satisfactory explanation of the observed phenomena of light, so far as our present knowledge extends.) The distance from the crest of one wave to the crest of the next is known as the wave length, the lengths of the various light waves having actually been measured. The human eye is sensitive only to waves between about four-ten-thousandths and seven-ten-thousandths of a millimeter in length, a millimeter being about one-twenty-fifth of an inch, and an object is invisible in the microscope if its diameter is less than half the wave length of the light by which it is illuminated, since in that case the light waves bend around the object and meet on the other side. We cannot, therefore, see objects whose diameter is less than about two-ten-thousandths of a millimeter. But the photographic plate is sensitive to shorter waves than the eye; these waves are known as the ultra-violet. By illuminating the microscope stage with ultra-violet light it therefore becomes possible to photograph objects so small that they must forever remain invisible to the naked eye, unless, indeed, the progress of human evolution brings with it increased sensitiveness to the shorter wave lengths. In this connection it is interesting to note that there are organisms so small that they cannot be made apparent to us even by photography, though we are made aware of their existence by inductive reasoning from their observed effects.
NEWSPAPER ILLUSTRATION
Enlarged to show half-tone screen
In the case of some objects, a fuller knowledge of their character is gained if they are examined in a manner somewhat different from that usually adopted. One of the photographs given herewith shows the effect obtained by what is known as “dark ground illumination.” Ordinarily, the light by which a microscopic object is examined passes through the slide, so that an opaque object is really seen only as a silhouette, but in dark ground illumination an opaque background is placed behind the object, and the light is allowed to fall on it from the sides. The object is thus made visible by the light that is refracted (that is, bent) into the lens of the microscope. In the present instance the effect seen by looking into the eye-piece was wonderfully beautiful, the crystals glowing with a brilliant yellow light against an intensely black ground.
Radiography
Some persons object to the inclusion of radiography as a branch of photography, since no camera or lens is used, but “photography” means, literally, “light-writing,” and radiography is precisely this.
If the air be nearly exhausted from a glass tube, so that a high vacuum exists therein, and it be then sealed up, a current of electricity may be sent through the remaining air, setting up ether vibrations that pass out from the tube. These ether waves have the power of passing through many substances that are opaque to visible light, the X-rays, as they are termed, being totally invisible, though light waves to which the eye is sensitive are set up at the same time within the tube. Many persons confuse the greenish light from an X-ray tube with the X-rays, but the two are actually entirely different manifestations. The X-rays, though invisible to the eye, are nevertheless able to affect a photographic plate strongly, so that photographs may be made through solid objects. For example, if a sensitive plate be laid on a table and the arm or the hand placed on it, and an X-ray tube is brought near the arm, a photograph results in which the bone is represented as a dark area and the flesh around it as lighter, this being, of course, simply a shadow picture. This affords an intensely valuable aid to diagnosis, and a good surgeon will, if possible, first radiograph a fractured bone before setting it, unless the circumstances are very exceptional. The value of radiography is not, however, confined to fractures, but extends to wounds (it is of great help in locating metallic fragments or other foreign bodies in a wound), to many intestinal disorders, and to the diagnosis of other diseased conditions.
STRIP OF MOTION-PICTURE FILM
Actual size. The photography consumed five-eighths of a second, or just long enough for the subject to turn her head
By courtesy of W. Faitoute Munn
MICROPHOTOGRAPH OF CRYSTALS OF BRUCINE SULPHATE
(A) By transmitted light
(B) With dark-ground illumination
Though not strictly bearing on photography, it is interesting to note that the X-rays, like the “gamma rays” (γ-rays) of radium, are in reality ether vibrations of very short wave length, and like the shorter waves (the ultra-violet) in sunlight, possess curative powers in some skin disorders and also the power of causing terrible burns. Sunburn does not result from exposure either to visible sunlight or to the heat of the sun, but to the ultra-violet rays; and an X-ray burn is identical with sunburn. In extreme cases the X-rays may cause complete destruction of the skin and even cancer, and before the properties of the X-rays were so well known as at present many operators lost hands, and some their lives, as a result of excessive exposure to the rays. At present, X-ray workers shield themselves, and, when necessary, the patient, with lead screens, that metal being practically opaque to the rays.
Color Photography
Many workers have tried, with varying success to devise a means whereby photography could be made to reproduce not only the outlines and gradations of natural objects but the colors as well, and there is now available a method of great worth for this purpose. In brief, it consists in making, by one exposure in an ordinary camera, a set of three-color negatives, each of which represents that portion of one of the primary colors—violet, green and red—which was reflected from the subject. That is, one negative represents the violet “sensation,” the second the green, and the third the red. Prints are made from these negatives in suitable dyes on transparent films, which are cemented together, one over the other, thus giving a true color photograph, in which the secondary and tertiary colors—blue, yellow, orange, purple, brown, etc.—are obtained, as in painting, by the mixture in proper proportions of two or more of the primaries. This is the first method of color photography to possess the great advantage of producing prints—not transparencies, so that any number of duplicates may be made. No special camera is required, and the process is within the reach of any careful amateur. The writer believes the artistic value of color photography is relatively slight—a black and white art is capable of the fullest intellectual expression, and color is merely sensuous in its appeal. After much experiment with different color processes, he finds his own monochrome (single tone) prints more satisfying than the color work. However, the value of color to the scientific worker is incalculable, as will be realized at once on considering only one of the possible applications—namely, the study of skin affections. It is interesting to note that several methods have been devised for the reproduction of natural colors in motion-picture work—the familiar method of coloring the positive film by hand being only an approximation to truth. But none of those presented up to this time is fully satisfactory, though the prospects of future development are good.
When we consider the manifold and widespread uses of photography and the pleasurable diversion that it affords, it seems safe to say that there is no other form of industry not an actual necessity that is of such importance to the welfare and happiness of the human race.
By courtesy of Dr. T. W. Harvey
RADIOGRAPH OF NORMAL HAND
SUPPLEMENTARY READING
| PICTORIAL PHOTOGRAPHY, PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE | By Paul L. Anderson |
| INSTRUCTION IN PHOTOGRAPHY | By Sir William de W. Abney |
| SCIENCE AND PRACTICE OF PHOTOGRAPHY | By John R. Roebuck |
| PHOTOGRAPHY OF TODAY | By H. C. Jones |
| THE ARTISTIC SIDE OF PHOTOGRAPHY | By A. J. Anderson |
⁂ Information concerning the above books may be had on application to the Editor of The Mentor.
THE OPEN LETTER
One summer afternoon, some years ago, I went into a front room of my home and drew down the window shades to shut out the glare and heat. The room became quite dark, but, in one of the shades, there was a small hole, through which the sunlight penetrated—casting on the white wall opposite, vivid images of all the objects in the street outside. I had before me a full-color, moving picture of the panorama of life that was passing the window.
Here was the original “camera obscura” (“dark chamber”). If one placed in the small hole in the shade a glass lens to give a sharp image, and substituted for the wall a movable screen, on which the projected objects could be focussed, one would have the essential elements of a modern camera. Through just such simple experiences as this important scientific discoveries are sometimes made.
For many years photography was largely confined to portraiture and the faithful reproduction of objects and scenes. All that was expected of a camera was to “make a picture” of a thing. Within the last forty years, however, as reproductive processes have been invented, photography has come to be one of the most useful of arts. Beginning about 1883, the quality and character of the illustrations in our magazines and books changed radically. Where, previously, there had been nothing but hand engravings of one sort or another, photo-engraving appeared, and, with that, the horizon of magazine illustration extended far beyond the reach of the liveliest imagination. Who could have foreseen, then, in the first photo-engraving processes, such possibilities as photographic printing in full colors, or moving picture films? Today, pictorial illustration depends on photography, and there is apparently little or nothing in life beyond the reach of photographic art. It discloses the internal arrangements of human anatomy; it makes a record of the affairs of the heavenly bodies; it pictures things that the human eye cannot see; it is even potent in the realm of mystery, for have we not seen photographs of ghosts(?) reproduced from spirit seances? When objects and situations in life that do not exist are wanted, the camera can, by some trick or device, create them for us. There seems to be no limit to the possibilities. Each wonder displayed in photographic reproduction gives way to some new effect more wonderful still.
Consider briefly a few of the wonders of modern photography. First and foremost, and most spectacular of all, is the moving-picture film. Then, in the world of practical things, we have the telephoto-lens—a combination of the telescope and camera—that takes pictures of objects far beyond the reach of the naked eye. This enables one to photograph the head of a gargoyle on a distant cathedral, or the fledglings in an eagle’s nest, or a mountain goat on a crag high up a mountain side. Then there is the swinging camera, by means of which a wide sweep of view can be included in one plate. A device of great practical value is photo-telegraphy, by which portraits for purposes of identification can be sent by cable and by wireless. In modern warfare the uses of the camera are many and varied. They include panoramic photography, photographing by moonlight, photographing of projectiles in the air, even photographing the noise of a gun by recording the vibrations due to the displacement of the air, photo map-making, photo surveying from the air, and the aviation gun camera. Radiography, too, must be mentioned—the X-ray and its use in surgery.
While all these wonders have come to pass in practical service, photography has likewise grown and expanded in the field of fine art. There are photographic art schools, and clubs and exhibitions—all for the purpose of cultivating and developing the camera to the finest forms of expression. We have highly cultivated and skilled photographers who are true artists, and who are engaged in employing photography as a means to fine art achievement. Among such artist photographers in this country mention should be made of Mr. Paul L. Anderson—the author of the present article; Arnold Genthe, who, besides his wonderful portraits, has, by his art, preserved for future generations the scenes of old San Francisco—especially Chinatown—that have now passed away; Gertrude Käebier, Baron de Meyer and Jan de Strelecki, Stieglitz, Eyckmeyer, Steichen, Sümons and so many others that the list would fill this page.
W. D. Moffat
EDITOR