Hitherto the colouring of natural objects photographed from nature has been a very difficult thing to accomplish; but now it is done, and with a marvellous success.
The monochromatic process is also making great strides in advance. Those very beautiful transparencies, cabinet size, of the Queen and Royal Family are now to be seen in most of the photographic picture shop-windows in town and country. These transparencies are the productions of the Disderi Company, by Woodbury’s photo-relief process, and the results now obtained are really beautiful, both in effect and colour, and sold at a very low price. But the chef d’œuvre of all monochromatic effects has just been achieved by the triple labours of Mr. Macnee, the artist, and Mr. Annan, the photographer, of Glasgow, and Mr. J. W. Swan, of Newcastle. The subject in question is a work of art in every respect. The original is a full-length portrait of Lord Belhaven, painted by Daniel Macnee, and now in the Royal Academy Exhibition. A photograph taken from the painting by Mr. Annan was worked up in monochrome by the eminent artist, from which another negative was taken by the same skilful photographer, and placed in the hands of Mr. J. W. Swan to be printed in carbon, which the latter gentleman has done in the most admirable manner. Altogether, the result is the most satisfactory reproduction by photography that has ever been placed before the public, and is less like a photograph and more like a fine mezzotint engraving than anything I ever saw. Mr. Annan is now publishing the work on his own responsibility, and a specimen of it can be seen at the offices of “The Autotype Printing and Publishing Co.,” 5, Haymarket, London. Mr. Hill, of Edinburgh, is also about to publish, in carbon, a photograph of that beautifully painted picture entitled “A Fairy Raid,” which was exhibited last year in the rooms of the Royal Academy by Sir Noel Paton. As in the former case, Mr. Annan copied the painting, Sir Noel worked on a print in monochrome, which was again photographed by Mr. Annan, and the negative passed to Mr. J. W. Swan to be printed in carbon. I understand that Poynter’s celebrated picture of “Israel in Egypt” is about to be published, in a similar manner, by the Autotype Company. It is therefore quite evident that photography is becoming, in reality, more and more “a foe to graphic art,” and eclipsing the lights and deepening the shadows of the unluxy engraver.
Mr. McLachlan has again spoken without giving any very materially new facts, or throwing much more light on his mysterious mode of working. The great point is, to throw light on the concentrated solution of nitrate of silver; and until that has been done it will be impossible for any one to say from experience and practice that there is nothing in the principle. Mr. McLachlan attributes a chemical property to the action of light on the bath that has never been thought of before, and he seems to believe it so sincerely himself, and expresses his convictions so earnestly, that I think photographers are somewhat bound to wait patiently till time and light will enable them to comply with all the conditions he lays down, and make a series of careful experiments, before they can say whether they are under obligations to him or not. At any rate, natural justice suggests that they should not render a foregone verdict.
May 17th, 1868.
The Exhibition of National Portraits—The Tintype of America—The Spirit of Photography in Canada—The “Wise Week,” and the Total Eclipse of the Sun.
Dear Mr. Editor,—From various causes I have been absent from your columns as a contributor for some time, but not as a reader. The chief reason for this was the weather, which of late has been so hot and prostrating as to dry up both my ink and my energies. Now that the atmosphere is more cool, moist, and pleasant, my ink and my thoughts may flow together, and the resulting epistle may find a place on some page of the Photographic News; if not, I shall not be angry. I know that the world—and photography is my world—is not always mindful of its atoms. The great and immortal Cicero discovered that even he could be absent from Rome, and all Rome not know it. How much easier, then, for your readers not to discover my absence from your pages. But my inability to write and attend to other duties entailed more serious losses to myself. Amongst others I missed seeing the Royal Academy Exhibition, but found a compensating pleasure in going to see the Exhibition of National Portraits at South Kensington. What a school it is for photographers! What a variety of pose, arrangement, management of light and shade, is to be seen in that glorious collection of Vandykes, Hogarths, Gainsboroughs, Reynolds, Opies, Wilkies, Raeburns, Northcotes, Lawrences, Phillips, Shees, Richmonds, Grants, and many others of the present day! I hope many photographers have seen the collection. None ought to have missed the opportunity. All that saw must have profited by the sight. Portraits of great men that have been familiar to me in black and white for years were there before me in the rich mellow colouring of Vandyke, Reynolds, Wilkie, and Lawrence, and the mind seemed carried back into the past while looking at the works of those great artists.
The exhibition will soon close, and all that have not seen it should endeavour to do so at once. There may never again be seen such a gathering together of the great of England, painted by England’s greatest portrait painters. The Manchester Art Treasures Exhibition was a great assemblage of the glory of England, but it was not so complete, nor so instructive, nor so comfortable to view as that now open at South Kensington. In addition to the paintings there is a large and valuable collection of rare engravings, both in mezzotints and in line. The latter collection alone would make a visit highly pleasing, and, in a sense, remunerative to every photographer. Art is beginning to take root in the minds of those who follow photography, either professionally or for amusement, and those exhibitions are the salt that “savoureth the earth,” which in due time will bring forth rich fruits.
The “Tintype” is now being largely practised in America, and is fitted into an envelope or slip, carte-de-visite size. The slip is formed of paper, with an aperture to show the picture, and a flap to fall over it as a protector. I had some of these shown to me a short time ago. The tintype is only another name for the ferrotype or melainotype, which is a collodion positive picture taken on a piece of tin or iron, coated with black japan on the front, and a varnish on the back, to prevent the metal from acting on the bath. The carte-de-visite form of the tintype fitted in the envelope or holder is a very good and ready way of supplying all portraits wanted in a hurry, and its adoption might be found very serviceable to many photographers in England. The American examples that I have seen are very brilliant and beautiful, and, to my mind, next in delicacy of detail and richness of colour to the long discarded but ever beautiful Daguerreotype. I must admit, en passant, that the Americans always excelled in producing fine, brilliant Daguerreotypes, and it is much the same with them in the production of glass positives, ferrotypes, or tintypes.
The spirit of photography in America and Canada is admirable. Mr. Notman, of Montreal, has long been doing some excellent cabinet pictures representing out-of-door-life, pleasures, and pastimes. Now Mr. Inglis, of Montreal, also produces most beautiful carte-de-visite and cabinet pictures of indoor and out-of-door scenes, such as drawing-rooms, libraries, &c., with suitably arranged and occupied figures in the former, and boating, bathing, and fishing parties in the latter. Some of these pictures have recently been shown to me. They are all very fine examples of photography. The tone and quality of some are beautiful. Many of them are admirably arranged, and exhibit considerable knowledge of composition; but some of them, particularly the interiors, are sadly at fault in their chiaroscuro. They possess no dominant light, or, if they do, it is in the wrong place, leading the eye away from the principal object. In most cases the lights are too scattered, giving a spotty and flickering effect to the picture, which is painful to look at. With his out-of-door scenes Mr. Inglis is more happy, and probably, from his antecedents, more at home. For example, the “Boating Party” is very happily composed, embracing the double form of angular composition—the triangle and the lozenge—and just a little more skill or care would have made it perfect in its lines. The whole scene is well lighted and got up. The boat, foreground of pebbles, stones, shrubs, and trees are all real; the water is represented by tin-foil, wet black oilcloth, or something of the kind, which reflects the forms and colours of objects placed upon or above it. The reflections seem too sharp to be those of water. The plan adopted by Mr. Ross, of Edinburgh, is the best. That gentleman has a large shallow trough fitted up in his studio with water in it.