Part 7 Modern black and white photography

7.1 The dry plate

The dry plate and its application to paper prints.

7.2 Developing-out gelatin silver paper

Neutral print tone in black and white photography.

7.3 The Kodak Number 1

Photography for the masses using roll film and factory processing.

7.4 The hypo problem

Fixative and its destructive properties.

7.5 Sepia toning

Color toning for black and white prints.

7.6 Professional photography

Weddings and such imortalized by photography.

7.7 Family albums

Vast numbers of photographs made by amateurs as family records.

7.8 The negative

The negative record- unseen but essential .

7.9 Lantern Slides

Still photographs projected in the theater setting.

7.10 Contact printing

Low sensitivity photographic papers.

7.11 35 mm photography
The great innovation of the dry plate marks the start of this era. The miniature camera evolves into the ubiquitous amateur and professional camera.
With its invention photographic materials could be purchased off
the shelf and the medium underwent a deep change. The physical 7.12 Enlargments
manipulations of photography shifted to the background and con- Highly sensitive papers used to enlarge small negatives.
cerns with picture content came to the front. Tod Papageorge says
that change opened the door for photography to become more like 7.13 Black and white Polaroid
Instant chemical pictures as a new art medium.
poetry than carpentry.
7.14 Resin coated paper
Quick and dirty processing using papers that don’t get wet.

Gelatin silver print. Attributed to Shotoku. Nyoirin Kwannon. c.556. Sculpture in black lacquered
wood. Print: Photographer unknown. c.1933. 10¾ x 8¾ in. (27.2 x 22.2 cm.)
146 147
 Part 7 Modern black and white photography
7.1 The dry plate
The dry plate and its application to paper prints.

7.2 Developing-out gelatin silver paper

Neutral print tone in black and white photography.

7.3 The Kodak Number 1

Photography for the masses using roll film and factory processing.

7.4 The hypo problem

Fixative and its destructive properties.

7.5 Sepia toning

Color toning for black and white prints.

7.6 Professional photography

Weddings and such imortalized by photography.

7.7 Family albums

Vast numbers of photographs made by amateurs as family records.

7.8 The negative

The negative record- unseen but essential .

7.9 Lantern Slides

Still photographs projected in the theater setting.

7.10 Contact printing

Low sensitivity photographic papers.

7.11 35 mm photography
The great innovation of the dry plate marks the start of this era. The miniature camera evolves into the ubiquitous amateur and professional camera.
With its invention photographic materials could be purchased off
the shelf and the medium underwent a deep change. The physical 7.12 Enlargments
manipulations of photography shifted to the background and con- Highly sensitive papers used to enlarge small negatives.
cerns with picture content came to the front. Tod Papageorge says
that change opened the door for photography to become more like 7.13 Black and white Polaroid
Instant chemical pictures as a new art medium.
poetry than carpentry.
7.14 Resin coated paper
Quick and dirty processing using papers that don’t get wet.

Gelatin silver print. Attributed to Shotoku. Nyoirin Kwannon. c.556. Sculpture in black lacquered
wood. Print: Photographer unknown. c.1933. 10¾ x 8¾ in. (27.2 x 22.2 cm.)
146 147
Modern photography 7.1 the dry plate

The transforming technical innovation that created modern

photography was the dry plate. Invented in the late nineteenth
century, this new negative material completely supplanted the
wet plate process. All the old photographic technologies, whether
for image capture in cameras or printing images on paper, were
chemical systems that could be assembled by the photographer
from raw materials. Photography had been much like cooking,
with recipes to guide the practitioner and secret formulas jeal-
ously guarded. The dry plate was a completely different thing. As
the name implies it was a light sensitive plate that could be used
dry without the need for immediate assembly that the wet plate
required. The chemistry of the new material was far more com-
plex than any photographic material that had come before, and
the new plates could only be produced in a complex and carefully
controlled laboratory. Because they could be used dry, these new
plates could be manufactured and sold later on; because they
were hard to make, their manufacture was taken out of the hands
of the photographers and instead was done in large manufactur-
ing plants. These two changes marked the turning point between
old and new photography.

The dry plate held a light sensitive silver salt in a gelatin coating
on glass. The plates were far more sensitive to light that the older
wet plate- we say they had more “speed”. The coatings were also
perfect, something that had never happened before, and to top it
all off, any given box of plates tended to be absolutely consistent
in quality. All these characteristics gave photography a great boost
as they took the task of making materials out of the hands of the
artist. A similar thing had happened in painting, when paints and
canvas were available in manufactured form, but the effect of this
change on photography was deep and unsettling. Painting, after
all, is difficult whether we make our own paints or not. Photog-
raphy, on the other hand turned out to be remarkably easy if the
materials came in a store-bought box and only had to be exposed
and developed to make a picture. The technology of the dry plate
coatings quickly moved over to flexible film and then to paper
for printing purposes. These new chemical coatings, whether on
glass, film or paper completely supplanted all the older photo-
graphic processes. Wet plate, albumen, platinum and carbon all
went into the junk heap under the assault of inexpensive, easy to
use materials bought off the shelf of the local supplier. Photog-
raphy as a medium had to scramble to get its content back, now
that the technical success of the picture was taken for granted.

Gelatin silver print. Antonio Rossellino. Madonna from the Tomb of the Cardinal of Portugal.
c.1460. Marble relief. Print: Clarence Kennedy. c.1930. 11½ x 9 in. (29.2 x 23.8 cm.)

148 149
Modern photography 7.1 the dry plate

The transforming technical innovation that created modern

photography was the dry plate. Invented in the late nineteenth
century, this new negative material completely supplanted the
wet plate process. All the old photographic technologies, whether
for image capture in cameras or printing images on paper, were
chemical systems that could be assembled by the photographer
from raw materials. Photography had been much like cooking,
with recipes to guide the practitioner and secret formulas jeal-
ously guarded. The dry plate was a completely different thing. As
the name implies it was a light sensitive plate that could be used
dry without the need for immediate assembly that the wet plate
required. The chemistry of the new material was far more com-
plex than any photographic material that had come before, and
the new plates could only be produced in a complex and carefully
controlled laboratory. Because they could be used dry, these new
plates could be manufactured and sold later on; because they
were hard to make, their manufacture was taken out of the hands
of the photographers and instead was done in large manufactur-
ing plants. These two changes marked the turning point between
old and new photography.

The dry plate held a light sensitive silver salt in a gelatin coating
on glass. The plates were far more sensitive to light that the older
wet plate- we say they had more “speed”. The coatings were also
perfect, something that had never happened before, and to top it
all off, any given box of plates tended to be absolutely consistent
in quality. All these characteristics gave photography a great boost
as they took the task of making materials out of the hands of the
artist. A similar thing had happened in painting, when paints and
canvas were available in manufactured form, but the effect of this
change on photography was deep and unsettling. Painting, after
all, is difficult whether we make our own paints or not. Photog-
raphy, on the other hand turned out to be remarkably easy if the
materials came in a store-bought box and only had to be exposed
and developed to make a picture. The technology of the dry plate
coatings quickly moved over to flexible film and then to paper
for printing purposes. These new chemical coatings, whether on
glass, film or paper completely supplanted all the older photo-
graphic processes. Wet plate, albumen, platinum and carbon all
went into the junk heap under the assault of inexpensive, easy to
use materials bought off the shelf of the local supplier. Photog-
raphy as a medium had to scramble to get its content back, now
that the technical success of the picture was taken for granted.

Gelatin silver print. Antonio Rossellino. Madonna from the Tomb of the Cardinal of Portugal.
c.1460. Marble relief. Print: Clarence Kennedy. c.1930. 11½ x 9 in. (29.2 x 23.8 cm.)

148 149
Modern photography 7.2 developing-out gelatin silver paper

The dry plate hovers in the background of photographic history

because it was only used at first to make the negative materials.
These photographic artifacts are never seen by the viewing public
or purchased by the traveling tourist. Negatives slide back into
envelopes, to be printed later for new orders, or to be simply lost
through neglect in the closets of amateurs. When the dry plate
chemistry moved over to the printing side of photography things
really began to look different. The gelatin coating of the dry
plate, put onto a paper support, produced our modern “gelatin
sliver paper” (as the museums call it). This material uses the
latent image- no more printing out- and it produces an image
color that is far closer to neutral than most earlier photographic
printing processes. The papers were exposed and then had to be
developed, so we can also call the new materials “developing out
papers”, or “DOP” (as opposed to the older POP, or printing out
papers). It really wasn’t until the spread of gelatin silver papers
and dry plate negatives that the darkroom came into its own.
Most nineteenth century printing materials could be handled in
yellow room light and even the wet plate could be manipulated
under a red safelight. The new papers in some cases had a sen-
sitivity that rivaled the films and light-tight darkrooms became
standard in photographic practice. Early in the twentieth century
dry plate materials began to be made with full color sensitivity,
and absolute darkness was then required for handling films and
plates.

The neutral tone of the new papers caused quite a stir. With the
exception of rare carbon and platinum, photographic printing
was almost always reddish purple. In some way the new neutral
prints didn’t seem to be “real” photographs in the way the older
albumens had. This problem was similar to the difficulties faced
by the Woodburytype, which used purplish pigments to make
the viewer think the prints were albumen. It didn’t take too long
for the public assessement to shift, and photographers and their
clients to accept neutrality as the norm in photography. During
the transition period we find prints made the new way that have
been toned to look like the old. This pair is a perfect example.
Both pictures were made for the tourist trade, and, because I
found them together and they are of the same subject, I have
always assumed they were made at about the same time. Both are
on the modern developing-out gelatin-silver paper, but the lower
one has been toned- quite beautifully- to imitate an albumen
print. Toning hung around for a while, but later on it tended to
be done to make the prints somehow more “artistic”. Although
false color from toning was never very popular in photography’s
chemical form it has been making a regrettable reappearance in
Gelatin silver print. Benozzo Gozzoli. Two frescoes of the Tower of Babel. c.1470. Prints: Photogra-
digital printing. pher unknown. c.1910. each 7 x 9¼ in. (17.8 x 23.5 cm.)

150 151
Modern photography 7.2 developing-out gelatin silver paper

The dry plate hovers in the background of photographic history

because it was only used at first to make the negative materials.
These photographic artifacts are never seen by the viewing public
or purchased by the traveling tourist. Negatives slide back into
envelopes, to be printed later for new orders, or to be simply lost
through neglect in the closets of amateurs. When the dry plate
chemistry moved over to the printing side of photography things
really began to look different. The gelatin coating of the dry
plate, put onto a paper support, produced our modern “gelatin
sliver paper” (as the museums call it). This material uses the
latent image- no more printing out- and it produces an image
color that is far closer to neutral than most earlier photographic
printing processes. The papers were exposed and then had to be
developed, so we can also call the new materials “developing out
papers”, or “DOP” (as opposed to the older POP, or printing out
papers). It really wasn’t until the spread of gelatin silver papers
and dry plate negatives that the darkroom came into its own.
Most nineteenth century printing materials could be handled in
yellow room light and even the wet plate could be manipulated
under a red safelight. The new papers in some cases had a sen-
sitivity that rivaled the films and light-tight darkrooms became
standard in photographic practice. Early in the twentieth century
dry plate materials began to be made with full color sensitivity,
and absolute darkness was then required for handling films and
plates.

The neutral tone of the new papers caused quite a stir. With the
exception of rare carbon and platinum, photographic printing
was almost always reddish purple. In some way the new neutral
prints didn’t seem to be “real” photographs in the way the older
albumens had. This problem was similar to the difficulties faced
by the Woodburytype, which used purplish pigments to make
the viewer think the prints were albumen. It didn’t take too long
for the public assessement to shift, and photographers and their
clients to accept neutrality as the norm in photography. During
the transition period we find prints made the new way that have
been toned to look like the old. This pair is a perfect example.
Both pictures were made for the tourist trade, and, because I
found them together and they are of the same subject, I have
always assumed they were made at about the same time. Both are
on the modern developing-out gelatin-silver paper, but the lower
one has been toned- quite beautifully- to imitate an albumen
print. Toning hung around for a while, but later on it tended to
be done to make the prints somehow more “artistic”. Although
false color from toning was never very popular in photography’s
chemical form it has been making a regrettable reappearance in
Gelatin silver print. Benozzo Gozzoli. Two frescoes of the Tower of Babel. c.1470. Prints: Photogra-
digital printing. pher unknown. c.1910. each 7 x 9¼ in. (17.8 x 23.5 cm.)

150 151
Modern photography 7.3 the kodak number 1

If we think of the development of photography as some sort of

evolutionary process taking on the form of a branching tree, then
we could say that the tree itself split, and grew a second trunk
with the development of George Eastman’s amateur cameras.
Eastman cobbled up a system combining his own original ideas
with those of others and produced cameras which could be sold
pre-loaded with flexible film on a roll. The user exposed a series
of pictures and then shipped the camera with its exposed film to
the factory for processing. After processing the film, the camera
was reloaded and mailed back to its owner, along with prints
from the set of exposures. All the user had to do was to aim the
camera and click the shutter- other technical chores were taken
over by Eastman’s company.

These extremely basic cameras used a single element lens with

a single speed shutter. Because the simple lens did not cover the
corners adequately, a round mask was placed in front of the film,
so the earliest Kodak pictures were round in format. The lens
was very wide angle, which meant that as often as not the subject
managed to be in the picture, in spite of the inaccuracy of the
camera’s viewing system. The description of the pictures, made
with such a short focal length lens, was very different from the
photographic norm. For centuries painters had been structuring
their pictures so that figures, buildings and landscapes appeared
“normal”, which is to say they were not distorted by a close point
of view. We can even go so far as to say that the vision of the
traditional painter was that of a photographer using a long lens.
The Kodak camera, with its short focal length lens, distorted the
perspective of a scene when compared to traditional pictures. We
can see this distortion in these two photographs. Feet in the fore-
ground turn down and enlarge as they approach the picture edge.
Trees in the right hand picture go from very tall to very short as
the run from left to right. In that photograph the young woman
appears abnormally small compared to the two men in front of
her- she is not so small, but her odd size is instead a result of the
picture structure. While her head is lower than the men’s, her feet
also have risen up in the picture plane; both these shifts of scale
are lens derived.

In some ways we can say that the history of photography has

been one of steadily shortening focal lengths. From the classical,
distanced, view of the painter, photographic description shifted
to encompass wider and wider angles of view. Eugene Atget, the
great French photographer who so often worked in cramped
spaces, and George Eastman, the American entrepreneur, each
jumped photography a huge step in this direction, through their
Gelatin silver print. Photographer unknown. Two snapshots. c.1900. each circular image 2½ in. (6.3
adaptation of radically descriptive wide angle lenses. cm.) in diameter.

152 153
Modern photography 7.3 the kodak number 1

If we think of the development of photography as some sort of

evolutionary process taking on the form of a branching tree, then
we could say that the tree itself split, and grew a second trunk
with the development of George Eastman’s amateur cameras.
Eastman cobbled up a system combining his own original ideas
with those of others and produced cameras which could be sold
pre-loaded with flexible film on a roll. The user exposed a series
of pictures and then shipped the camera with its exposed film to
the factory for processing. After processing the film, the camera
was reloaded and mailed back to its owner, along with prints
from the set of exposures. All the user had to do was to aim the
camera and click the shutter- other technical chores were taken
over by Eastman’s company.

These extremely basic cameras used a single element lens with

a single speed shutter. Because the simple lens did not cover the
corners adequately, a round mask was placed in front of the film,
so the earliest Kodak pictures were round in format. The lens
was very wide angle, which meant that as often as not the subject
managed to be in the picture, in spite of the inaccuracy of the
camera’s viewing system. The description of the pictures, made
with such a short focal length lens, was very different from the
photographic norm. For centuries painters had been structuring
their pictures so that figures, buildings and landscapes appeared
“normal”, which is to say they were not distorted by a close point
of view. We can even go so far as to say that the vision of the
traditional painter was that of a photographer using a long lens.
The Kodak camera, with its short focal length lens, distorted the
perspective of a scene when compared to traditional pictures. We
can see this distortion in these two photographs. Feet in the fore-
ground turn down and enlarge as they approach the picture edge.
Trees in the right hand picture go from very tall to very short as
the run from left to right. In that photograph the young woman
appears abnormally small compared to the two men in front of
her- she is not so small, but her odd size is instead a result of the
picture structure. While her head is lower than the men’s, her feet
also have risen up in the picture plane; both these shifts of scale
are lens derived.

In some ways we can say that the history of photography has

been one of steadily shortening focal lengths. From the classical,
distanced, view of the painter, photographic description shifted
to encompass wider and wider angles of view. Eugene Atget, the
great French photographer who so often worked in cramped
spaces, and George Eastman, the American entrepreneur, each
jumped photography a huge step in this direction, through their
Gelatin silver print. Photographer unknown. Two snapshots. c.1900. each circular image 2½ in. (6.3
adaptation of radically descriptive wide angle lenses. cm.) in diameter.

152 153
Modern photography 7.4 the hypo problem

I always like to say that there were five inventors of photography.

We all know three: Niepece, Daguerre and Fox Talbot. A fourth,
my favorite because of his pictures, is the Frenchman Hippolyte
Bayard who invented an autopositive paper process in the early
1840s. The fifth would be Sir John Herschel, a member of that
small group of the wealthy English upper class who all seemed to
know each other in the mid-nineteenth century. Herschel solved
the great photographic problem of how to make the images
permanent. He suggested, to Fox Talbot, that he “fix” his pictures
with the chemical sodium thiosulfate. This compound, and its
cousin ammonium thiosulfate, have remained the primary fixing
chemicals for nearly all photographic processes, from the very
earliest until those modern chemical processes that are presently
disappearing under the digital onslaught.

If you tried to think of the worst possible chemical with which

to treat a piece of paper, “hypo”, as the fixer came to be called,
would be near the top of the list. Baths using thiosulfates do a
superb job of clearing out the undeveloped silver salts, but no
matter how well a print is washed it retains some residue from
the fixer, and this chemical trace slowly eats away at the photo-
graph and turns the image into one of silver sulfide. If a black
and white print is thoroughly washed, and stored in a dry, cool,
dark place, its life span is very long, but the hypo waits in there
and will ultimately cause trouble.

Photographic prints change color in two different ways. One is

when the silver image converts to silver sulfide- the neutral gray
metallic deposit shifts its color to brown. The other change hap-
pens when residual hypo (or other left-over chemicals from the
paper processing) cause the paper itself to yellow. We see both
these flaws in this eighty year old print. The first problem- of the
silver turning- can actually be fixed, by wetting the print, bleach-
ing the image, and then re-developing it to its original silver state.
There is some chance of losing it when it is re-wetted if the print
is very old. If it survives the process the image can be dramatically
restored. The second problem, of the paper turning yellow has no
solution that I know of, aside from trying a mild bleach that may
or may not affect the silver image. The short version of all this is
that photographic prints are delicate and doomed. They have the
maddening habit of lasting well as long as we don’t put light on
them so they can be seen, becoming like the proverbial tree fall-
ing in the forest where there might be no sound if there is no one
to hear its crash. Does the picture really exist locked away in a
dark box? I think not. Better to look at it, enjoy it and let it wear
out like everything else in the world.
Gelatin silver print. Photographer unknown. Engine room of a Fall River Line steamer. c.1925. 7⅜ x
9½ in. (18.7 x 24.1 cm.)

154 155
Modern photography 7.4 the hypo problem

I always like to say that there were five inventors of photography.

We all know three: Niepece, Daguerre and Fox Talbot. A fourth,
my favorite because of his pictures, is the Frenchman Hippolyte
Bayard who invented an autopositive paper process in the early
1840s. The fifth would be Sir John Herschel, a member of that
small group of the wealthy English upper class who all seemed to
know each other in the mid-nineteenth century. Herschel solved
the great photographic problem of how to make the images
permanent. He suggested, to Fox Talbot, that he “fix” his pictures
with the chemical sodium thiosulfate. This compound, and its
cousin ammonium thiosulfate, have remained the primary fixing
chemicals for nearly all photographic processes, from the very
earliest until those modern chemical processes that are presently
disappearing under the digital onslaught.

If you tried to think of the worst possible chemical with which

to treat a piece of paper, “hypo”, as the fixer came to be called,
would be near the top of the list. Baths using thiosulfates do a
superb job of clearing out the undeveloped silver salts, but no
matter how well a print is washed it retains some residue from
the fixer, and this chemical trace slowly eats away at the photo-
graph and turns the image into one of silver sulfide. If a black
and white print is thoroughly washed, and stored in a dry, cool,
dark place, its life span is very long, but the hypo waits in there
and will ultimately cause trouble.

Photographic prints change color in two different ways. One is

when the silver image converts to silver sulfide- the neutral gray
metallic deposit shifts its color to brown. The other change hap-
pens when residual hypo (or other left-over chemicals from the
paper processing) cause the paper itself to yellow. We see both
these flaws in this eighty year old print. The first problem- of the
silver turning- can actually be fixed, by wetting the print, bleach-
ing the image, and then re-developing it to its original silver state.
There is some chance of losing it when it is re-wetted if the print
is very old. If it survives the process the image can be dramatically
restored. The second problem, of the paper turning yellow has no
solution that I know of, aside from trying a mild bleach that may
or may not affect the silver image. The short version of all this is
that photographic prints are delicate and doomed. They have the
maddening habit of lasting well as long as we don’t put light on
them so they can be seen, becoming like the proverbial tree fall-
ing in the forest where there might be no sound if there is no one
to hear its crash. Does the picture really exist locked away in a
dark box? I think not. Better to look at it, enjoy it and let it wear
out like everything else in the world.
Gelatin silver print. Photographer unknown. Engine room of a Fall River Line steamer. c.1925. 7⅜ x
9½ in. (18.7 x 24.1 cm.)

154 155
Modern photography 7.5 sepia toning

We simply have to mention sepia toning. It is probably the worst

thing that has ever happened to photographs but, like neckties
and hair dye, it’s out there and has long been around to make
things look silly. Somehow the idea grew in the first half of the
century that a photograph could somehow be better if it was
brown. I have always assumed this was a nostalgic link to the
nineteenth century, when black and white photography was
so colorful, but those early processes derived their color from
the unavoidable nature of their chemical processes. Intentional
toning of photographs is more like putting a veneer on a piece
of wood; it provides a false appearance, and is, as often as not,
covering up something that isn’t too good in the first place.

I am being a bit unfair here, particularly with this photograph

made by a western photographer named Frank Jacobs who had a
small studio in Montana in the 1920s. He has the glacier, moun-
tains, tall fir trees and even the children, in there for scale in this
pleasant and dramatic view. Unfortunately, the whole damn thing
is brown- not a nice albumeny purple-brown, but instead a heavy
yellow-brown that can only make us think of molasses or maple
syrup. It is ironic that sepia toned prints tend to be more perma-
nent than those that consist of silver alone, since the silver sulfide
which produces the brown tone is a more stable compound that
metallic silver.

Toning has persisted, and it found a truly useful niche when

selenium was used to lightly tone prints to give a stronger black
and an ever-so-slightly purple cast to gelatin silver prints. Many
photographers used selenium toning because it was thought to
make the image more stable. If such toning is done to a slow,
fine grained, photographic paper, it can cause remarkable shifts
of color in selected tones in the picture, which came to be called
“split toning”. Some photographers use this color alteration inten-
tionally as a way to enhance the impact of their prints.

Gelatin silver print. Frank Jacobs. View in the Rocky Mountains. c.1930. 13⅝ x 10½ in. (34.6 x 26.7 cm.)

156 157
Modern photography 7.5 sepia toning

We simply have to mention sepia toning. It is probably the worst

thing that has ever happened to photographs but, like neckties
and hair dye, it’s out there and has long been around to make
things look silly. Somehow the idea grew in the first half of the
century that a photograph could somehow be better if it was
brown. I have always assumed this was a nostalgic link to the
nineteenth century, when black and white photography was
so colorful, but those early processes derived their color from
the unavoidable nature of their chemical processes. Intentional
toning of photographs is more like putting a veneer on a piece
of wood; it provides a false appearance, and is, as often as not,
covering up something that isn’t too good in the first place.

I am being a bit unfair here, particularly with this photograph

made by a western photographer named Frank Jacobs who had a
small studio in Montana in the 1920s. He has the glacier, moun-
tains, tall fir trees and even the children, in there for scale in this
pleasant and dramatic view. Unfortunately, the whole damn thing
is brown- not a nice albumeny purple-brown, but instead a heavy
yellow-brown that can only make us think of molasses or maple
syrup. It is ironic that sepia toned prints tend to be more perma-
nent than those that consist of silver alone, since the silver sulfide
which produces the brown tone is a more stable compound that
metallic silver.

Toning has persisted, and it found a truly useful niche when

selenium was used to lightly tone prints to give a stronger black
and an ever-so-slightly purple cast to gelatin silver prints. Many
photographers used selenium toning because it was thought to
make the image more stable. If such toning is done to a slow,
fine grained, photographic paper, it can cause remarkable shifts
of color in selected tones in the picture, which came to be called
“split toning”. Some photographers use this color alteration inten-
tionally as a way to enhance the impact of their prints.

Gelatin silver print. Frank Jacobs. View in the Rocky Mountains. c.1930. 13⅝ x 10½ in. (34.6 x 26.7 cm.)

156 157
Modern photography 7.6 professional photography

Photography is practiced by the amateur and the professional.

The pros, called either “professional” or “commercial”, work in
studios, where lighting and sets can be controlled, or out in the
field, with cameras, lights, and even assistants along to handle all
the gear. These photographers serve a wide range of clients and
specialize in a particular version of the truth: reality carefully doc-
tored to approach an ideal that can replace our memory of the
actual subject or event that has been recorded. The subject might
be a wedding, as in this picture, or a bowl of cereal carefully
arranged for an advertisement. In either case reality and picture
have a strained relationship. There is a third group of photog-
raphers- the artists- but it is difficult to categorize them. Some
artists know more than the most seasoned pro, but most know
embarrassingly less. Some artists are in pursuit of “truth”, while
others go after fantasy.

Gelatin silver print. Bradford Bachrach. Barbara Mur-

This picture was taken on the occasion of my wife’s parents’ wed-
ray on the Occasion of Her Wedding. 1966. 10½ x 13½ in. ding. It really is VERY good. The photographer knows just how
(25.4 x 34.3 cm.) As she saw herself. to arrange that long dress, how to move the description to dark-
ness in the corners (a painter’s old trick to make a picture look
good), and how to hold the attention of each participant in the
scene. The photograph was made with a large format camera, and
the print was done with a warm toned, pebbled surface portrait
paper, perfectly exposed and so well processed that, even today,
sixty five years after the event, the photograph is nearly perfect.
Teaching in an art school, I often find myself wishing that my
students could handle a picture as well as this photographer did.

The problem, of course, is that Bachrach- the founder, then son

and later just the name of the firm- made this picture again and
again. The same pose and technique were used endlessly, to crank
out a series of pictures that the photographer knew would never
hang on the wall together, so their sameness would never be re-
vealed. Believe it or not, the child of this couple born a few years
after the wedding, had her wedding picture taken in the very
same studio. Her husband (me) refused to pose for such a picture
but her mother, who we see here, demanded that at least the
bride be photographed. She was, and we still have the picture, in
two poses. In one she smiles the false smile brought on to please
Gelatin silver print. Bradford Bachrach. Barbara Mur- her mother, in the other (her favorite) she has the same stern look
ray on the Occasion of Her Wedding. 1966. 10½ x 13½ in. her mother-to-be has in this photograph. We need to be careful
(25.4 x 34.3 cm.) As her mother wished her to be.
about criticizing pictures such as these because, once the years
have eliminated most of them, the few remaining won’t be such
clichés. The subjects will then stare back out at us freed from the
cultural net that directed their interpretation at the time when
they were made.
Gelatin silver print. Louis Fabian Bachrach. The Wedding Party for Daniel Murray and Rita Callan.
1941. 8⅜ x 11⅜ in. (21.3 x 28.9 cm.)

158 159
Modern photography 7.6 professional photography

Photography is practiced by the amateur and the professional.

The pros, called either “professional” or “commercial”, work in
studios, where lighting and sets can be controlled, or out in the
field, with cameras, lights, and even assistants along to handle all
the gear. These photographers serve a wide range of clients and
specialize in a particular version of the truth: reality carefully doc-
tored to approach an ideal that can replace our memory of the
actual subject or event that has been recorded. The subject might
be a wedding, as in this picture, or a bowl of cereal carefully
arranged for an advertisement. In either case reality and picture
have a strained relationship. There is a third group of photog-
raphers- the artists- but it is difficult to categorize them. Some
artists know more than the most seasoned pro, but most know
embarrassingly less. Some artists are in pursuit of “truth”, while
others go after fantasy.

Gelatin silver print. Bradford Bachrach. Barbara Mur-

This picture was taken on the occasion of my wife’s parents’ wed-
ray on the Occasion of Her Wedding. 1966. 10½ x 13½ in. ding. It really is VERY good. The photographer knows just how
(25.4 x 34.3 cm.) As she saw herself. to arrange that long dress, how to move the description to dark-
ness in the corners (a painter’s old trick to make a picture look
good), and how to hold the attention of each participant in the
scene. The photograph was made with a large format camera, and
the print was done with a warm toned, pebbled surface portrait
paper, perfectly exposed and so well processed that, even today,
sixty five years after the event, the photograph is nearly perfect.
Teaching in an art school, I often find myself wishing that my
students could handle a picture as well as this photographer did.

The problem, of course, is that Bachrach- the founder, then son

and later just the name of the firm- made this picture again and
again. The same pose and technique were used endlessly, to crank
out a series of pictures that the photographer knew would never
hang on the wall together, so their sameness would never be re-
vealed. Believe it or not, the child of this couple born a few years
after the wedding, had her wedding picture taken in the very
same studio. Her husband (me) refused to pose for such a picture
but her mother, who we see here, demanded that at least the
bride be photographed. She was, and we still have the picture, in
two poses. In one she smiles the false smile brought on to please
Gelatin silver print. Bradford Bachrach. Barbara Mur- her mother, in the other (her favorite) she has the same stern look
ray on the Occasion of Her Wedding. 1966. 10½ x 13½ in. her mother-to-be has in this photograph. We need to be careful
(25.4 x 34.3 cm.) As her mother wished her to be.
about criticizing pictures such as these because, once the years
have eliminated most of them, the few remaining won’t be such
clichés. The subjects will then stare back out at us freed from the
cultural net that directed their interpretation at the time when
they were made.
Gelatin silver print. Louis Fabian Bachrach. The Wedding Party for Daniel Murray and Rita Callan.
1941. 8⅜ x 11⅜ in. (21.3 x 28.9 cm.)

158 159
Modern photography 7.7 family albums

Every junk shop in America has a family album or two for sale.
They are usually rotting away, full of small yellowing snapshots,
processed by the local drugstore or some mail order lab and then
lovingly stuck on black paper with rubber cement or fancy black
photo corners. Most of the pictures are uninteresting. The person
tends to be in the middle, too small, and as often as not barely
recognizable. That is certainly not the case here. The photograph
on the right is terrific, the figures posed beautifully on some
half collapsed wooden structure, the cigarette smoker framed
by two brothers, each holding a rifle, and all the parts arranged
to support the astonishing view of the eagle, dead and stretched
out, to show the eight foot wingspan of America’s national bird.
The diagonal cable would never have sprung from the mind of a
painter- only photography could have drawn it- and the back-
drop of pine trees perfectly sets the stage for the wilderness where
the eagle has lived and that the human beings have invaded.
After babies, events relating to the military were the
most common subjects in these old albums These pictures were almost always made with roll film cameras
that descended directly from the Kodak Number 1. The lenses
tended to be pretty poor, but the prints were almost always con-
tact prints, so the image quality was passable. The main subject
was usually out of focus, because the cameras had poor systems
for setting the focus (if they had any at all), but this fault too
was not noticeable unless the pictures were enlarged. Despite the
drawbacks, old family albums remain treasure troves of photog-
raphy. They bring home the fact that the medium draws much of
its power from the richness of the world it records. These records
grow in power when they are moved, either through time or
physical distance, away from the point of their origin. The eagle
was a fact of life out in the woods where this picture was made; it
became dramatic when viewed in the parlor back east, and even
more so when looked at by the middle aged son of the man on
the left, who first showed me his father’s album fifty years after it
had been made.

Walker Evans said that there wasn’t much that could go wrong
if the sun was out and you made sure it was shining behind you
as you made the photograph. He also knew that nothing could
replace a remarkable subject. Evans’ brilliance was often in seeing
the extraordinary in the commonplace, then recording it with a
directness that was unflinching. Even without his intelligence, the
two guidelines of good light and a great subject can often lead to
remarkable pictures. Millions of these are thrown out as the old
albums fall apart and are discarded. The ease with which interest-
ing photographs can be made is matched by the likelihood that
most will ultimately be discarded.
Gelatin silver print. Photographer unknown. Three men and an eagle. c.1950. 5¼ x 3½ in. (13.3 x 8.9 cm.)

160 161
Modern photography 7.7 family albums

Every junk shop in America has a family album or two for sale.
They are usually rotting away, full of small yellowing snapshots,
processed by the local drugstore or some mail order lab and then
lovingly stuck on black paper with rubber cement or fancy black
photo corners. Most of the pictures are uninteresting. The person
tends to be in the middle, too small, and as often as not barely
recognizable. That is certainly not the case here. The photograph
on the right is terrific, the figures posed beautifully on some
half collapsed wooden structure, the cigarette smoker framed
by two brothers, each holding a rifle, and all the parts arranged
to support the astonishing view of the eagle, dead and stretched
out, to show the eight foot wingspan of America’s national bird.
The diagonal cable would never have sprung from the mind of a
painter- only photography could have drawn it- and the back-
drop of pine trees perfectly sets the stage for the wilderness where
the eagle has lived and that the human beings have invaded.
After babies, events relating to the military were the
most common subjects in these old albums These pictures were almost always made with roll film cameras
that descended directly from the Kodak Number 1. The lenses
tended to be pretty poor, but the prints were almost always con-
tact prints, so the image quality was passable. The main subject
was usually out of focus, because the cameras had poor systems
for setting the focus (if they had any at all), but this fault too
was not noticeable unless the pictures were enlarged. Despite the
drawbacks, old family albums remain treasure troves of photog-
raphy. They bring home the fact that the medium draws much of
its power from the richness of the world it records. These records
grow in power when they are moved, either through time or
physical distance, away from the point of their origin. The eagle
was a fact of life out in the woods where this picture was made; it
became dramatic when viewed in the parlor back east, and even
more so when looked at by the middle aged son of the man on
the left, who first showed me his father’s album fifty years after it
had been made.

Walker Evans said that there wasn’t much that could go wrong
if the sun was out and you made sure it was shining behind you
as you made the photograph. He also knew that nothing could
replace a remarkable subject. Evans’ brilliance was often in seeing
the extraordinary in the commonplace, then recording it with a
directness that was unflinching. Even without his intelligence, the
two guidelines of good light and a great subject can often lead to
remarkable pictures. Millions of these are thrown out as the old
albums fall apart and are discarded. The ease with which interest-
ing photographs can be made is matched by the likelihood that
most will ultimately be discarded.
Gelatin silver print. Photographer unknown. Three men and an eagle. c.1950. 5¼ x 3½ in. (13.3 x 8.9 cm.)

160 161
Modern photography 7.8 The negative

The negative tends to be ignored, but behind almost every black

and white photograph (and many color ones too) there is a glass
or film negative. These hold the actual record of the light that
came out of the world into the camera. A properly exposed and
developed negative is a smooth and uninterrupted analog of the
intensity and distribution of that light. Ansel Adams used to say
that the negative was comparable to the musician’s score; a tonal
record that waits for the photographer to work in the darkroom,
playing out an interpretation of it in a print. He had a good
point, because the negative- when correctly made- holds neither
black nor white, but instead a long scale of grays. They are made
this way because those extremes of tone are actually informational
voids. The photographer prefers to make a darkroom printing
decision about what parts of the picture will be black and white,
rather than having that decision made irrevocably in the negative.

The negative does two extraordinary things that are often over-
looked. One is that it can provide a record of the passage of light
over time. The one illustrated here was exposed for about a half
hour, in the dark recesses of an old fort. The heaviest silver depos-
it is in a window, through which brilliant sunlight shown, but in
the negative itself that area is still not black, because I restrained
the development of the negative. The upper parts, showing the
brickwork around a ventilation passage, hold clear information
that was hardly visible to the naked eye- only becoming clear
after I had avoided the bright window for a minute or so and
allowed my eyes to accommodate to the darkness. A negative,
properly handled, can make a record of an extreme range of il-
lumination.

A second miracle of the negative is that it can make a record of

something that is simply invisible to the naked eye. The clearest
example of this is its ability to record faint light, in such work as
astronomy when exposures are routinely many hours long. But
silver salts are also sensitive to electromagnetic radiation far out-
side the small window of frequency that our eyes use. X-rays and
infra-red can be gathered and turned into useable silver deposits
in a negative. The extraordinary thing that happens then is not
A three frame section of a roll film negative, exposed in
a camera using a square format. so much that something invisible is translated for our use, but
rather that the technology of photography can go somewhere that
the human being cannot. As we expand our understanding of the
physical world we increasingly find that our machines interact
and interpret it with far more capacity than we can ourselves.

Black and white film negative. Richard Benson. Fort Adams. 1975. 8 x 10 in. (20.3 x 25.4 cm.)

162 163
Modern photography 7.8 The negative

The negative tends to be ignored, but behind almost every black

and white photograph (and many color ones too) there is a glass
or film negative. These hold the actual record of the light that
came out of the world into the camera. A properly exposed and
developed negative is a smooth and uninterrupted analog of the
intensity and distribution of that light. Ansel Adams used to say
that the negative was comparable to the musician’s score; a tonal
record that waits for the photographer to work in the darkroom,
playing out an interpretation of it in a print. He had a good
point, because the negative- when correctly made- holds neither
black nor white, but instead a long scale of grays. They are made
this way because those extremes of tone are actually informational
voids. The photographer prefers to make a darkroom printing
decision about what parts of the picture will be black and white,
rather than having that decision made irrevocably in the negative.

The negative does two extraordinary things that are often over-
looked. One is that it can provide a record of the passage of light
over time. The one illustrated here was exposed for about a half
hour, in the dark recesses of an old fort. The heaviest silver depos-
it is in a window, through which brilliant sunlight shown, but in
the negative itself that area is still not black, because I restrained
the development of the negative. The upper parts, showing the
brickwork around a ventilation passage, hold clear information
that was hardly visible to the naked eye- only becoming clear
after I had avoided the bright window for a minute or so and
allowed my eyes to accommodate to the darkness. A negative,
properly handled, can make a record of an extreme range of il-
lumination.

A second miracle of the negative is that it can make a record of

something that is simply invisible to the naked eye. The clearest
example of this is its ability to record faint light, in such work as
astronomy when exposures are routinely many hours long. But
silver salts are also sensitive to electromagnetic radiation far out-
side the small window of frequency that our eyes use. X-rays and
infra-red can be gathered and turned into useable silver deposits
in a negative. The extraordinary thing that happens then is not
A three frame section of a roll film negative, exposed in
a camera using a square format. so much that something invisible is translated for our use, but
rather that the technology of photography can go somewhere that
the human being cannot. As we expand our understanding of the
physical world we increasingly find that our machines interact
and interpret it with far more capacity than we can ourselves.

Black and white film negative. Richard Benson. Fort Adams. 1975. 8 x 10 in. (20.3 x 25.4 cm.)

162 163
Modern photography 7.9 lantern slides

In its early years the audiences for photography accessed it

through books and pictures hanging on walls. The medium
eventually migrated to museums and galleries, but even before
that happened movies were invented, and photographic images,
linked into time based sequences, began to appear in theaters
which had thus far only been inhabited by living actors or musi-
cians. This book is not about moving pictures, which lie outside
the field of printing, but there is a powerful dynamic that occurs
when groups of people sit close to each other in the dark and
look at some brilliantly illuminated scene. The power of this was
adapted to education through the invention of the lantern slide,
and ultimately led to the widespread use of color slides by ama-
teur photographers.

The lantern slide was largely replaced by the 35mm slide, but in
old universities we can still find those larger glass slides occasion-
ally being used, cherished by the older faculty for their tendency
to stay in better focus than the newer, flexible, film transparen-
cies. They were always made on thin 3¼ x 4 inch glass plates,
which were usually exposed from copy negatives made from
photographic prints or drawings. A cover glass was attached with
black tape, to prevent the image from being scratched as it was
moved into the projector, and there was almost always an infor-
mation label stuck on this border along with a red dot to indicate
which orientation should be used when the slide was placed in
the projector. Lantern slides have nearly disappeared, but still
turn up at junk shops, often in perfect condition packed away in
boxes.

The quality of these positive images tends to be surprisingly low.

In the first place they are almost always two generations away
from the original photograph: a negative was made in a camera,
out in the world, then printed, then a copy negative was made
of that print and that copy negative printed onto the glass slide
material. Every time a photograph is copied by chemical means
the information contained within it is eroded. Another difficulty
with the lantern slide is that the tonal range was usually made
very light, so the image would be adequately bight when pro-
jected. This results in washed out images which have lost much of
the beauty that we come to expect of photographic prints.

Lantern slides were used by a few artists- notably Alfred Stieglitz-

for the public presentation of their photographs, but almost every
other application in which we find them has to do with educa-
tion. They were instrumental in establishing the copyright status
of “fair use”, which says that an image can be used for educa-
Lantern slide. Photographer unknown. Port Nelson at Low Tide. 1925. 3¼ x 4 in. (8.3 x 10.2 cm.)
tional purposes without the owner receiving compensation. That
practice is being challenged for today’s digital imagery.
164 165
Modern photography 7.9 lantern slides

In its early years the audiences for photography accessed it

through books and pictures hanging on walls. The medium
eventually migrated to museums and galleries, but even before
that happened movies were invented, and photographic images,
linked into time based sequences, began to appear in theaters
which had thus far only been inhabited by living actors or musi-
cians. This book is not about moving pictures, which lie outside
the field of printing, but there is a powerful dynamic that occurs
when groups of people sit close to each other in the dark and
look at some brilliantly illuminated scene. The power of this was
adapted to education through the invention of the lantern slide,
and ultimately led to the widespread use of color slides by ama-
teur photographers.

The lantern slide was largely replaced by the 35mm slide, but in
old universities we can still find those larger glass slides occasion-
ally being used, cherished by the older faculty for their tendency
to stay in better focus than the newer, flexible, film transparen-
cies. They were always made on thin 3¼ x 4 inch glass plates,
which were usually exposed from copy negatives made from
photographic prints or drawings. A cover glass was attached with
black tape, to prevent the image from being scratched as it was
moved into the projector, and there was almost always an infor-
mation label stuck on this border along with a red dot to indicate
which orientation should be used when the slide was placed in
the projector. Lantern slides have nearly disappeared, but still
turn up at junk shops, often in perfect condition packed away in
boxes.

The quality of these positive images tends to be surprisingly low.

In the first place they are almost always two generations away
from the original photograph: a negative was made in a camera,
out in the world, then printed, then a copy negative was made
of that print and that copy negative printed onto the glass slide
material. Every time a photograph is copied by chemical means
the information contained within it is eroded. Another difficulty
with the lantern slide is that the tonal range was usually made
very light, so the image would be adequately bight when pro-
jected. This results in washed out images which have lost much of
the beauty that we come to expect of photographic prints.

Lantern slides were used by a few artists- notably Alfred Stieglitz-

for the public presentation of their photographs, but almost every
other application in which we find them has to do with educa-
tion. They were instrumental in establishing the copyright status
of “fair use”, which says that an image can be used for educa-
Lantern slide. Photographer unknown. Port Nelson at Low Tide. 1925. 3¼ x 4 in. (8.3 x 10.2 cm.)
tional purposes without the owner receiving compensation. That
practice is being challenged for today’s digital imagery.
164 165
Modern photography 7.10 contact printing

By the 1920s modern photographic papers had evolved into

two classes. One group had a low sensitivity to light, and were
referred to as “contact” papers. The other group were highly sen-
sitive- some even approaching film in their speed- and were made
for use in the darkroom enlarger, to make big prints from little
negatives. Both these modern papers were far more sensitive than
the older POPs, which had required light of the sun’s intensity
for exposure.

The first type of these new papers was used by placing the nega-
tive and paper into a spring-loaded frame, so the emulsions of
each were held closely together, and then an exposure was made
with a normal light bulb from a few feet away. The second type
of paper was exposed in an enlarger, which really is just a cam-
era turned inside out. The small negative is held in a frame and
brightly illuminated from behind, and the light passes through
it to a lens and then on to the paper. I say it is a camera because
the subject being photographed is the negative, and the print
paper takes on the role of the film. Unlike a normal camera, the
light and subject are contained within a light-tight bellows, and
the paper, recording the image, is open in a large dark room. This
inversion of light and dark allows the printer to manipulate the
light on its way to the paper, to alter the overall tonalities with
hands or shading tools.

The two classes of paper were based upon two different silver
salts. The slower, contact speed, paper tended to be made with
silver chloride which produced a warm tone. The faster enlarging
speed papers tended to be made with silver bromide, which pro-
duced “colder” colors. Many intermediate papers were produced
with mixtures of these salts, and the manufacturers kept the
formulas for them secret. By the 1930s there was a wide variety
of papers available, in many surfaces, speeds and subtle colors
(although all of them were basically neutral). Many of these pa-
pers had beautiful semi-matte surfaces and produced tonally rich
prints. The emulsions contained a great deal of silver, the papers
were coated slowly and had a relatively soft gelatin surface which
was delicate but very beautiful. As the technology of paper manu-
facture advanced through the years the silver content went down
This 12x enlargement shows the remarkable detail and and the coating speeds went up, giving less good surfaces. At one
tonal smoothness of a modern 8 x 10 contact print. point the manufacturers added a top coating to the papers, called
a super-coating, made of harder gelatin so they were easier to
handle. Many photographic formulas from the old photographic
“cookbooks” don’t work on this new super-coated paper. As the
years went by emulsion design was greatly improved, and even
with less silver and harder surfaces, today’s materials are as good,
Gelatin silver print. Nicholas Nixon. View of the New John Hancock Building. 1975. 7⅝ x 9⅝ in. (19.4
if not better, than anything made in the past. x 24.4 cm.) This print was made by contact onto Kodak Azo paper, the last remaining silver chloride
based, contact speed, gelatin developing out paper.
166 167
Modern photography 7.10 contact printing

By the 1920s modern photographic papers had evolved into

two classes. One group had a low sensitivity to light, and were
referred to as “contact” papers. The other group were highly sen-
sitive- some even approaching film in their speed- and were made
for use in the darkroom enlarger, to make big prints from little
negatives. Both these modern papers were far more sensitive than
the older POPs, which had required light of the sun’s intensity
for exposure.

The first type of these new papers was used by placing the nega-
tive and paper into a spring-loaded frame, so the emulsions of
each were held closely together, and then an exposure was made
with a normal light bulb from a few feet away. The second type
of paper was exposed in an enlarger, which really is just a cam-
era turned inside out. The small negative is held in a frame and
brightly illuminated from behind, and the light passes through
it to a lens and then on to the paper. I say it is a camera because
the subject being photographed is the negative, and the print
paper takes on the role of the film. Unlike a normal camera, the
light and subject are contained within a light-tight bellows, and
the paper, recording the image, is open in a large dark room. This
inversion of light and dark allows the printer to manipulate the
light on its way to the paper, to alter the overall tonalities with
hands or shading tools.

The two classes of paper were based upon two different silver
salts. The slower, contact speed, paper tended to be made with
silver chloride which produced a warm tone. The faster enlarging
speed papers tended to be made with silver bromide, which pro-
duced “colder” colors. Many intermediate papers were produced
with mixtures of these salts, and the manufacturers kept the
formulas for them secret. By the 1930s there was a wide variety
of papers available, in many surfaces, speeds and subtle colors
(although all of them were basically neutral). Many of these pa-
pers had beautiful semi-matte surfaces and produced tonally rich
prints. The emulsions contained a great deal of silver, the papers
were coated slowly and had a relatively soft gelatin surface which
was delicate but very beautiful. As the technology of paper manu-
facture advanced through the years the silver content went down
This 12x enlargement shows the remarkable detail and and the coating speeds went up, giving less good surfaces. At one
tonal smoothness of a modern 8 x 10 contact print. point the manufacturers added a top coating to the papers, called
a super-coating, made of harder gelatin so they were easier to
handle. Many photographic formulas from the old photographic
“cookbooks” don’t work on this new super-coated paper. As the
years went by emulsion design was greatly improved, and even
with less silver and harder surfaces, today’s materials are as good,
Gelatin silver print. Nicholas Nixon. View of the New John Hancock Building. 1975. 7⅝ x 9⅝ in. (19.4
if not better, than anything made in the past. x 24.4 cm.) This print was made by contact onto Kodak Azo paper, the last remaining silver chloride
based, contact speed, gelatin developing out paper.
166 167
Modern photography 7.11 35mm photography

The cameras of the nineteenth century were almost all stuck on a

tripod. They used large glass negatives, suitable for contact print-
ing, and they photographed static subjects. As film migrated onto
flexible supports, and the emulsion sensitivity was increased, the
door was open for small cameras with fast shutter speeds, which
could stop action in the thin slice of time they recorded. The
technology for this change was driven by the invention of movies,
which depended upon a rapid sequence of pictures being made,
in a small format, with very brief exposures. The first popu-
lar “still” camera to grow out of the film trades was the Leica,
which was first marketed in the 1920s. It used the same 35mm
width film as movies, and even retained the sprocket holes run-
ning along both sides that controlled the film position as it was
advanced through the camera. This is no surprise, since the Leica
itself originated as a device for testing samples of film that were
to be exposed in the long reels necessary for moviemaking. The
image on the film in a Leica was turned the other way than it
was for movie film. The format chosen was quite long- the width
being half again as long as the height- and this extended rectangle
proved to be a great container for the broad and simple forms
that the grainy enlargements from miniature film produced.
These little cameras directed the photographer’s attention to form
rather than detail, and a whole new type of picture structure grew
out of their use.

The Leica had a simple viewing system, which was built

alongside the lens that took the picture. Later models used a
rangefinder to set the focus of the lens. As small camera technol-
ogy developed, a different viewing system that had been used in
larger format “Graflex” cameras was adapted to the new minia-
tures. Called reflex cameras, these machines let the photographer
see the subject to be photographed through the actual lens that
would make the picture, by interposing a mirror in the light
path. This mirrior was rapidly raised as the exposure was made,
so the light that had been directed to the viewing window went
instead to the film. These new cameras were called “single lens
reflex” cameras, and they shared the market, in many models,
with the older class of rangefinder cameras.

The miniature camera, which was gradually just called the 35mm
camera, changed photography dramatically. Along with slightly
larger models which used un-sprocketed film, these machines
allowed pictures to be made anywhere, under almost any condi-
tions. In this picture we see Josef Koudelka’s bed, upon which he
slept during his years as a photojournalist. All the old baggage
of the traveling photographer had gone by this time, and a Leica
Gelatin silver print. Joseph Koudelka. Wales. 1977. 8 x 11¾ in. (20.3 x 29.9 cm.)
camera- all the technical resources he needed to photograph-
could easily fit into Josef ’s jacket pocket.
168 169
Modern photography 7.11 35mm photography

The cameras of the nineteenth century were almost all stuck on a

tripod. They used large glass negatives, suitable for contact print-
ing, and they photographed static subjects. As film migrated onto
flexible supports, and the emulsion sensitivity was increased, the
door was open for small cameras with fast shutter speeds, which
could stop action in the thin slice of time they recorded. The
technology for this change was driven by the invention of movies,
which depended upon a rapid sequence of pictures being made,
in a small format, with very brief exposures. The first popu-
lar “still” camera to grow out of the film trades was the Leica,
which was first marketed in the 1920s. It used the same 35mm
width film as movies, and even retained the sprocket holes run-
ning along both sides that controlled the film position as it was
advanced through the camera. This is no surprise, since the Leica
itself originated as a device for testing samples of film that were
to be exposed in the long reels necessary for moviemaking. The
image on the film in a Leica was turned the other way than it
was for movie film. The format chosen was quite long- the width
being half again as long as the height- and this extended rectangle
proved to be a great container for the broad and simple forms
that the grainy enlargements from miniature film produced.
These little cameras directed the photographer’s attention to form
rather than detail, and a whole new type of picture structure grew
out of their use.

The Leica had a simple viewing system, which was built

alongside the lens that took the picture. Later models used a
rangefinder to set the focus of the lens. As small camera technol-
ogy developed, a different viewing system that had been used in
larger format “Graflex” cameras was adapted to the new minia-
tures. Called reflex cameras, these machines let the photographer
see the subject to be photographed through the actual lens that
would make the picture, by interposing a mirror in the light
path. This mirrior was rapidly raised as the exposure was made,
so the light that had been directed to the viewing window went
instead to the film. These new cameras were called “single lens
reflex” cameras, and they shared the market, in many models,
with the older class of rangefinder cameras.

The miniature camera, which was gradually just called the 35mm
camera, changed photography dramatically. Along with slightly
larger models which used un-sprocketed film, these machines
allowed pictures to be made anywhere, under almost any condi-
tions. In this picture we see Josef Koudelka’s bed, upon which he
slept during his years as a photojournalist. All the old baggage
of the traveling photographer had gone by this time, and a Leica
Gelatin silver print. Joseph Koudelka. Wales. 1977. 8 x 11¾ in. (20.3 x 29.9 cm.)
camera- all the technical resources he needed to photograph-
could easily fit into Josef ’s jacket pocket.
168 169
Modern photography 7.12 enlargements

As the years went by the films, lenses and papers became better
and better. Photographers continually complained that every-
thing was getting worse, but I think this is a normal human fail-
ing that crops up to explain the gulf between the generations.

The cameras made for the casual amateur tended to use formats
other than 35mm. They were usually larger, so contact prints,
while small, were still useable in albums. The film was always on
rolls, so multiple exposures could be made in a single loading of
the camera. By the time we reached the 1970s most of the odd
old film sizes had disappeared and we were left with only two;
35mm, still with its sprockets, and 2¼ inch wide roll film, that
came in various lengths. The cameras did not all make pictures
using the same rectangle. Most 35mm cameras retained the 2 x 3
proportion shape, but the roll film camera formats ranged from
square- which we see here- to rectangles as long as the 35mm
shape. Black and white photography was king and hundreds of
thousands of amateur and professionals printed in their own
darkrooms.

When we expose and develop film we capture a range of tones

that can later be interpreted in the print. When the print is made
the photographer must make tough decisions about what is black
and what is white in the picture. The earliest of the modern pa-
pers had so much silver in them that they could be developed to
different degrees to adjust the light and dark end of the print to
suit the negative. As time went on, and papers gradually lost their
earlier silver richness, this became impossible. As a result papers
came to be sold in different contrast “grades”, ranging from 0
(very low contrast) to 5 (very high). The average darkroom held at
least three or four boxes of each paper, each box a different grade,
to cope with the varying tonal scale of negatives made under dif-
ferent lighting conditions.

A great change took place in the 1960s when a new class of paper
became available that had two different silver compounds coated
on it. One was of low and one of high contrast. The two types
were sensitive to different colors of light, so the printer could
adjust the enlarging light color with filters to produce any needed
contrast on a single sheet of paper. By the 1980s the old graded
papers were far less common than these new “variable contrast”
materials, and today perhaps 95% of all black and white dark-
room printing is done out of a single box in the darkroom. Today
the market for all photographic papers is shrinking, so old favor-
ites of even this new class of paper are disappearing.
Gelatin silver print. Artist unknown. Tomb sculpture in the Staglieno Cemetery. Print: Lee Fried-
lander. 1993. 14¾ x 14⅝ in (37.7 x 37.2 cm.)

170 171
Modern photography 7.12 enlargements

As the years went by the films, lenses and papers became better
and better. Photographers continually complained that every-
thing was getting worse, but I think this is a normal human fail-
ing that crops up to explain the gulf between the generations.

The cameras made for the casual amateur tended to use formats
other than 35mm. They were usually larger, so contact prints,
while small, were still useable in albums. The film was always on
rolls, so multiple exposures could be made in a single loading of
the camera. By the time we reached the 1970s most of the odd
old film sizes had disappeared and we were left with only two;
35mm, still with its sprockets, and 2¼ inch wide roll film, that
came in various lengths. The cameras did not all make pictures
using the same rectangle. Most 35mm cameras retained the 2 x 3
proportion shape, but the roll film camera formats ranged from
square- which we see here- to rectangles as long as the 35mm
shape. Black and white photography was king and hundreds of
thousands of amateur and professionals printed in their own
darkrooms.

When we expose and develop film we capture a range of tones

that can later be interpreted in the print. When the print is made
the photographer must make tough decisions about what is black
and what is white in the picture. The earliest of the modern pa-
pers had so much silver in them that they could be developed to
different degrees to adjust the light and dark end of the print to
suit the negative. As time went on, and papers gradually lost their
earlier silver richness, this became impossible. As a result papers
came to be sold in different contrast “grades”, ranging from 0
(very low contrast) to 5 (very high). The average darkroom held at
least three or four boxes of each paper, each box a different grade,
to cope with the varying tonal scale of negatives made under dif-
ferent lighting conditions.

A great change took place in the 1960s when a new class of paper
became available that had two different silver compounds coated
on it. One was of low and one of high contrast. The two types
were sensitive to different colors of light, so the printer could
adjust the enlarging light color with filters to produce any needed
contrast on a single sheet of paper. By the 1980s the old graded
papers were far less common than these new “variable contrast”
materials, and today perhaps 95% of all black and white dark-
room printing is done out of a single box in the darkroom. Today
the market for all photographic papers is shrinking, so old favor-
ites of even this new class of paper are disappearing.
Gelatin silver print. Artist unknown. Tomb sculpture in the Staglieno Cemetery. Print: Lee Fried-
lander. 1993. 14¾ x 14⅝ in (37.7 x 37.2 cm.)

170 171
Modern photography 7.13 black and white polaroid

When we study the history of technology we face a great temp-

tation to see its development as similar to that of the biological
kingdom. In the evolution of life we have that nice solid under-
lying premise of genetic connection, that lets us be absolutely
certain that every living thing is related to every other. Not so
with the stuff we make. Odd things come out of the blue in tech-
nology, rise up, fill a gap we didn’t even know existed, and then
disappear. I put the fax machine, the typewriter and the Polaroid
process all in that category.

Polaroid materials came out of the mind of Edwin Land who

spent years developing a type of photography that did not require
a darkroom. He believed strongly that there would be a great
market for the instant picture that could be exposed and imme-
diately seen by the photographer. Land devoted years of brilliant
research to this project and out of it came an entire branch of
photography that was completely new and different from any-
thing that had gone before. The underlying chemistry was still
about the exposure, development and fixing of silver based im-
ages, but Land made films and cameras which carried all this out
on the spot, right after the picture was taken.
Polaroid instant prints. John O’Reilly. Mythic Still Life. 1985. 3¾ x 6⅝ inches. Collage of black and
white Polaroid prints.
The first Polaroid pictures, in black and white, were made in the
1950s. The company flourished, produced specialized cameras for
the films, developed color materials in various sizes, made tons of
which lets a photographer snap a picture and then instantly look at it on a
money and then went bankrupt around the year 2000. The Pola-
screen on the camera back; no chemicals, no silver and no cost at all, once
roid idea- of the instant picture- was buried, (along with the giant
the camera has been purchased. Even before the digital assualt Polaroid
of conventional silver photography) by the digital revolution,
was in trouble, because the materials were always quite expensive, and the
processes depended upon specialized cameras.

All of us who used view cameras bought Polaroid backs and made 4x5
inch black and white Polaroid pictures. They were absolutely great. Like
the daguerreotype, each one was unique, and had a connection to the
light of the world that was immediate and enthralling. Ansel Adams made
terrific ones, and became a spokesman for the Company. Once color ma-
terials were available in the 1970s, with an enticing palette of colors, other
photographers took up the system. In the commercial world the Polaroid
became the great test material, because a complex studio setup could be
photographed with the Polaroid back, as a check, before the conventional
transparency (which had to be sent out for processing) was exposed.
Edwin Land’s dream process burst into maturity, had its day and then
disappeared. It left a lot of interesting photographic artifacts in its wake.
Whether in black and white or color, Polaroid materials were loved by
artists; the prints could be altered, ganged up and used in collages, all pos-
sible without having to engage the darkroom and its high tech demands.
Polaroid instant prints. John Coplans. Untitled Study for Self Portrait. (Upside Down No. 9). 1992.
Each print 4½ x 3½ inches.

172 173
Modern photography 7.13 black and white polaroid

When we study the history of technology we face a great temp-

tation to see its development as similar to that of the biological
kingdom. In the evolution of life we have that nice solid under-
lying premise of genetic connection, that lets us be absolutely
certain that every living thing is related to every other. Not so
with the stuff we make. Odd things come out of the blue in tech-
nology, rise up, fill a gap we didn’t even know existed, and then
disappear. I put the fax machine, the typewriter and the Polaroid
process all in that category.

Polaroid materials came out of the mind of Edwin Land who

spent years developing a type of photography that did not require
a darkroom. He believed strongly that there would be a great
market for the instant picture that could be exposed and imme-
diately seen by the photographer. Land devoted years of brilliant
research to this project and out of it came an entire branch of
photography that was completely new and different from any-
thing that had gone before. The underlying chemistry was still
about the exposure, development and fixing of silver based im-
ages, but Land made films and cameras which carried all this out
on the spot, right after the picture was taken.
Polaroid instant prints. John O’Reilly. Mythic Still Life. 1985. 3¾ x 6⅝ inches. Collage of black and
white Polaroid prints.
The first Polaroid pictures, in black and white, were made in the
1950s. The company flourished, produced specialized cameras for
the films, developed color materials in various sizes, made tons of
which lets a photographer snap a picture and then instantly look at it on a
money and then went bankrupt around the year 2000. The Pola-
screen on the camera back; no chemicals, no silver and no cost at all, once
roid idea- of the instant picture- was buried, (along with the giant
the camera has been purchased. Even before the digital assualt Polaroid
of conventional silver photography) by the digital revolution,
was in trouble, because the materials were always quite expensive, and the
processes depended upon specialized cameras.

All of us who used view cameras bought Polaroid backs and made 4x5
inch black and white Polaroid pictures. They were absolutely great. Like
the daguerreotype, each one was unique, and had a connection to the
light of the world that was immediate and enthralling. Ansel Adams made
terrific ones, and became a spokesman for the Company. Once color ma-
terials were available in the 1970s, with an enticing palette of colors, other
photographers took up the system. In the commercial world the Polaroid
became the great test material, because a complex studio setup could be
photographed with the Polaroid back, as a check, before the conventional
transparency (which had to be sent out for processing) was exposed.
Edwin Land’s dream process burst into maturity, had its day and then
disappeared. It left a lot of interesting photographic artifacts in its wake.
Whether in black and white or color, Polaroid materials were loved by
artists; the prints could be altered, ganged up and used in collages, all pos-
sible without having to engage the darkroom and its high tech demands.
Polaroid instant prints. John Coplans. Untitled Study for Self Portrait. (Upside Down No. 9). 1992.
Each print 4½ x 3½ inches.

172 173
Modern photography 7.14 resin coated paper

Gelatin was used in both the dry plate and the developing out
papers that dominated black and white photography in the
twentieth century . Gelatin has the characteristic of retaining its
structure as a coating while allowing water to enter the coating
so chemical reactions can take place within. When the dry plate
coating was on a glass support it could be processed and rapidly
dried. Films, made of synthetic polymers, but still coated with a
light sensitive gelatin emulsion, tended to take up water and so
the drying time was longer. When the dry plate emulsion moved
over to paper, for use in printing, there was the additional dif-
ficulty of the paper support becoming wet, and requiring a long
time to dry. This was not a new problem, since all the old paper
based processes suffered in the same way. Paper gets wet, changes
size, takes up any bad chemicals that are around and then tends
to stain when it dries and gets old. A new class of paper became
popular in the 1980s called “resin coated” or “RC” paper. This
material was still paper, and still had the gelatin emulsion on it,
but the paper substrate was completely sealed in a plastic, so the
paper itself never got wet.

These papers could be developed, rinsed and dried in only a few

minutes, so they became a popular proofing material. The old
hypo problem- of the print retaining destructive fixing chemicals-
was more about the paper holding the chemistry than the emul-
sion. With RC papers a short rinse removed most of the hypo
since the paper itself never got wet and remained unaffected. This
sounds like a great development, and it did make things very
convenient in the darkroom, but, by and large, these new papers
were dreadful. The early ones used a sealing material that broke
down in a few years- far sooner than the old enemy hypo would
have done its destructive work. Even worse, the papers tended to
be made in only three surfaces- all bad. One was highly polished,
with a brilliant shine that the manufacturers somehow thought
would be better for reproduction purposes. In reality these papers
easily scratched and were terrible to re-photograph. There also
was a dead matte surface, so flat that no black appeared anywhere
in the print, no matter how heavy the silver deposit. The final in-
sult were the “pearl” surfaces, that had a texture applied to them.
These surfaces were widespread in color papers (most of which
were resin coated, to ease handling in the processing machines)
and they invariably produced terrible looking prints. RC papers
became very common, and we now find traditional photographic
papers being called “fiber based”, to distinguish them from this
newer, inferior type that is so easy to use.

Resin coated silver print. Frank Gohlke. Aerial View- Downed Forest 8 Miles from Crater- Mt. St.
Helens. 1981. 7½ x 9⅛ in. (19 x 23.2 cm.)

174 175
Modern photography 7.14 resin coated paper

Gelatin was used in both the dry plate and the developing out
papers that dominated black and white photography in the
twentieth century . Gelatin has the characteristic of retaining its
structure as a coating while allowing water to enter the coating
so chemical reactions can take place within. When the dry plate
coating was on a glass support it could be processed and rapidly
dried. Films, made of synthetic polymers, but still coated with a
light sensitive gelatin emulsion, tended to take up water and so
the drying time was longer. When the dry plate emulsion moved
over to paper, for use in printing, there was the additional dif-
ficulty of the paper support becoming wet, and requiring a long
time to dry. This was not a new problem, since all the old paper
based processes suffered in the same way. Paper gets wet, changes
size, takes up any bad chemicals that are around and then tends
to stain when it dries and gets old. A new class of paper became
popular in the 1980s called “resin coated” or “RC” paper. This
material was still paper, and still had the gelatin emulsion on it,
but the paper substrate was completely sealed in a plastic, so the
paper itself never got wet.

These papers could be developed, rinsed and dried in only a few

minutes, so they became a popular proofing material. The old
hypo problem- of the print retaining destructive fixing chemicals-
was more about the paper holding the chemistry than the emul-
sion. With RC papers a short rinse removed most of the hypo
since the paper itself never got wet and remained unaffected. This
sounds like a great development, and it did make things very
convenient in the darkroom, but, by and large, these new papers
were dreadful. The early ones used a sealing material that broke
down in a few years- far sooner than the old enemy hypo would
have done its destructive work. Even worse, the papers tended to
be made in only three surfaces- all bad. One was highly polished,
with a brilliant shine that the manufacturers somehow thought
would be better for reproduction purposes. In reality these papers
easily scratched and were terrible to re-photograph. There also
was a dead matte surface, so flat that no black appeared anywhere
in the print, no matter how heavy the silver deposit. The final in-
sult were the “pearl” surfaces, that had a texture applied to them.
These surfaces were widespread in color papers (most of which
were resin coated, to ease handling in the processing machines)
and they invariably produced terrible looking prints. RC papers
became very common, and we now find traditional photographic
papers being called “fiber based”, to distinguish them from this
newer, inferior type that is so easy to use.

Resin coated silver print. Frank Gohlke. Aerial View- Downed Forest 8 Miles from Crater- Mt. St.
Helens. 1981. 7½ x 9⅛ in. (19 x 23.2 cm.)

174 175