Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2022.2113245
Elisa deCourcy
This article investigates the first decade and a half of photographic practice in the Australian colonies from the perspective of family participation in the portrait marketplace. The article argues that this period has largely been narrated around determining the point of photography’s arrival. This approach risks underplaying both the significant innovation and entrepreneurship that defined early photographic practice in this part of the British Empire and how photographic culture engaged with settlers’ dispossession of First Nations land. This is not to say that early colonial Australian photography developed in isolation. Rather, the evasion of early British photography patents, as well as Australia’s geographic location diluted the perpetuation of the English studio model in this part of the world. This, in turn, impacted the kinds of individuals who practised as daguerreian photographers in the colonies and – because of the appetites of colonial society, particularly settler families – the types of photographic products offered.
{"title":"Beyond Sentimentality: The Family as Patron, Subject and Author of Early Photography in Colonial Australia","authors":"Elisa deCourcy","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2022.2113245","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2022.2113245","url":null,"abstract":"This article investigates the first decade and a half of photographic practice in the Australian colonies from the perspective of family participation in the portrait marketplace. The article argues that this period has largely been narrated around determining the point of photography’s arrival. This approach risks underplaying both the significant innovation and entrepreneurship that defined early photographic practice in this part of the British Empire and how photographic culture engaged with settlers’ dispossession of First Nations land. This is not to say that early colonial Australian photography developed in isolation. Rather, the evasion of early British photography patents, as well as Australia’s geographic location diluted the perpetuation of the English studio model in this part of the world. This, in turn, impacted the kinds of individuals who practised as daguerreian photographers in the colonies and – because of the appetites of colonial society, particularly settler families – the types of photographic products offered.","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"98 - 117"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"47641729","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2023.2186069
Martyna Zielińska
reading experience. Particularly striking in this regard are the descriptions of the various apparatuses that Newland invented to create the spectacular visual shows he staged while living and working in Calcutta. It is not just the author’s fine-grained knowledge of past photographic practices and technologies that impresses, however. The reader is also offered a fine demonstration of how to weave elements of contemporary photographic theory into the narrative in a way that helps illuminate the significance of Newland’s inventions for contemporary readers. While the book provides a brilliantly detailed account of the history of the daguerreotype and the nineteenth-century views shows that catered to the era’s vogue for visual spectacle, it could be said to be somewhat light in its treatment of Newland’s life. For instance, we never learn whether Newland married or had children, whether he was from the British lower, middle or upper classes, or even why he left England for the USA. This is no doubt partly a function of the period itself, for Newland was working at time when few official records of people’s lives were kept and indeed, as the authors explain, all that is known of his family background is his mother’s name and the fact that he was her first child and of illegitimate birth. But it may also have been partly a function of the highly competitive nature of Newland’s profession and his itinerant lifestyle, for these meant that he had neither the time nor space to keep records pertaining to his private life or indeed his business. Indeed, the picture that emerges of him is of a man who was not just one of the most hardworking photographers and showmen of his time – he was also one of the most talented and entrepreneurial. In summary, the wide range of media and historical incidents covered by Empire, Early Photography and Spectacle together with the book’s in-depth research render it a valuable resource for scholars of both past and contemporary visual media. This book will also appeal to all those interested in the various visual apparatuses and optical technologies that contributed to the growth both of colonialism and the cultures of entertainment in first half of the nineteenth century.
{"title":"Women Photographers of the Pacific World, 1857–1930","authors":"Martyna Zielińska","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2023.2186069","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2023.2186069","url":null,"abstract":"reading experience. Particularly striking in this regard are the descriptions of the various apparatuses that Newland invented to create the spectacular visual shows he staged while living and working in Calcutta. It is not just the author’s fine-grained knowledge of past photographic practices and technologies that impresses, however. The reader is also offered a fine demonstration of how to weave elements of contemporary photographic theory into the narrative in a way that helps illuminate the significance of Newland’s inventions for contemporary readers. While the book provides a brilliantly detailed account of the history of the daguerreotype and the nineteenth-century views shows that catered to the era’s vogue for visual spectacle, it could be said to be somewhat light in its treatment of Newland’s life. For instance, we never learn whether Newland married or had children, whether he was from the British lower, middle or upper classes, or even why he left England for the USA. This is no doubt partly a function of the period itself, for Newland was working at time when few official records of people’s lives were kept and indeed, as the authors explain, all that is known of his family background is his mother’s name and the fact that he was her first child and of illegitimate birth. But it may also have been partly a function of the highly competitive nature of Newland’s profession and his itinerant lifestyle, for these meant that he had neither the time nor space to keep records pertaining to his private life or indeed his business. Indeed, the picture that emerges of him is of a man who was not just one of the most hardworking photographers and showmen of his time – he was also one of the most talented and entrepreneurial. In summary, the wide range of media and historical incidents covered by Empire, Early Photography and Spectacle together with the book’s in-depth research render it a valuable resource for scholars of both past and contemporary visual media. This book will also appeal to all those interested in the various visual apparatuses and optical technologies that contributed to the growth both of colonialism and the cultures of entertainment in first half of the nineteenth century.","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"208 - 211"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"41914322","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2023.2186061
A. Maxwell
The scope of this book is well encapsulated by its title. At one level it traces the career of James William Newland (1810–57), one of the nineteenth century’s many itinerant photographers who was also one of that century’s many small-time showmen. At another, however, it is an impressively detailed history of the daguerreotype and its associated technologies; for Newland was not just a highly skilled studio photographer, he was also a talented and inventive purveyor of ‘dissolving views shows’, the term for the performance-based visual spectacles that derived from panoramas, dioramas and phantasmagorias and that evolved into modern cinema. A third level that is just as powerfully invoked, however, is that of the swiftly burgeoning commercial world of photography that was opening up across the British Empire as this existed from the 1840s to the 1860s in those parts of the Pacific world that Newman passed through on his way from New Orleans in the American South to his final destination of Calcutta in British-occupied India. Indeed, by positioning Newland’s career and his works within the popular cultural networks that were a feature of the nineteenth century, Empire, Early Photography and Spectacle demonstrates the powerful role that photography and its associated technologies played in communicating ideas about Empire compared to fine art paintings and even literature. DeCourcy and Jolly have produced what we might call a ‘thick’ history both of the media itself and of the places and times in which Newland worked. This is because the emphasis is on the broad social and cultural contexts and effects as well as the webs of significance that surrounded Newland’s inventory, and not so much on the images’ contents. The authors claim to privilege biography as their methodology. As they write in the introduction, ‘biography is the only methodological framework which encompasses a study of Newland as a multimedia artist and as a traveller, exhibitor, businessman and self promoter’. However, in their case what they call biography is broadly defined, extending as it does to a consideration of the main economic and cultural transnational forces that helped produce the first wave of globalisation that lasted from 1800 to 1914. As the authors themselves explain, focusing on the figure of ‘Newland allows us to stitch the visual economy of daguerreotypes, published prints and dissolving-views exhibitions into larger economies of migration, trade and power’. Geoffrey Batchen describes the authors as developing ‘a new way of understanding the early history of photography’, one that emphasises the global network of spectacle and exchange that was such a dominant feature of the colonial world as it existed around the time when Newland was working. In order to bring this global network of spectacle and exchange into view, Jolly and deCourcy populate their narrative with what they call the ‘the microhistories of biography’, to describe the many figures around Newla
{"title":"Empire, Early Photography and Spectacle: The Global Career of Showman Daguerreotypist J.W. Newland","authors":"A. Maxwell","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2023.2186061","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2023.2186061","url":null,"abstract":"The scope of this book is well encapsulated by its title. At one level it traces the career of James William Newland (1810–57), one of the nineteenth century’s many itinerant photographers who was also one of that century’s many small-time showmen. At another, however, it is an impressively detailed history of the daguerreotype and its associated technologies; for Newland was not just a highly skilled studio photographer, he was also a talented and inventive purveyor of ‘dissolving views shows’, the term for the performance-based visual spectacles that derived from panoramas, dioramas and phantasmagorias and that evolved into modern cinema. A third level that is just as powerfully invoked, however, is that of the swiftly burgeoning commercial world of photography that was opening up across the British Empire as this existed from the 1840s to the 1860s in those parts of the Pacific world that Newman passed through on his way from New Orleans in the American South to his final destination of Calcutta in British-occupied India. Indeed, by positioning Newland’s career and his works within the popular cultural networks that were a feature of the nineteenth century, Empire, Early Photography and Spectacle demonstrates the powerful role that photography and its associated technologies played in communicating ideas about Empire compared to fine art paintings and even literature. DeCourcy and Jolly have produced what we might call a ‘thick’ history both of the media itself and of the places and times in which Newland worked. This is because the emphasis is on the broad social and cultural contexts and effects as well as the webs of significance that surrounded Newland’s inventory, and not so much on the images’ contents. The authors claim to privilege biography as their methodology. As they write in the introduction, ‘biography is the only methodological framework which encompasses a study of Newland as a multimedia artist and as a traveller, exhibitor, businessman and self promoter’. However, in their case what they call biography is broadly defined, extending as it does to a consideration of the main economic and cultural transnational forces that helped produce the first wave of globalisation that lasted from 1800 to 1914. As the authors themselves explain, focusing on the figure of ‘Newland allows us to stitch the visual economy of daguerreotypes, published prints and dissolving-views exhibitions into larger economies of migration, trade and power’. Geoffrey Batchen describes the authors as developing ‘a new way of understanding the early history of photography’, one that emphasises the global network of spectacle and exchange that was such a dominant feature of the colonial world as it existed around the time when Newland was working. In order to bring this global network of spectacle and exchange into view, Jolly and deCourcy populate their narrative with what they call the ‘the microhistories of biography’, to describe the many figures around Newla","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"206 - 208"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"43137284","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2023.2213953
Rebecca M. Brown
Dayanita Singh (b. 1961) has long pursued a practise of close relationships with her subjects, human and otherwise. In pairing this commitment with disseminating her photographs through book and portable museum formats, in which photographs are reused over the course of decades, she has developed a practice that she recognises as fundamentally archival. This article examines two distinct elements of Singh’s oeuvre: Myself Mona Ahmed (2001), a book created with her friend Mona, a self-described ‘eunuch’ cast out of her community in Delhi; and File Room, a constantly unfolding project appearing in multiple book and museum formats, focused on the materiality and temporality of the archive. I read both as part of Singh’s ‘intimate archive’, and understand this thread in her work as a feminist practise, one that extends to her invitation to viewers to engage with the book and museum objects, reworking these images into new intimate archives.
{"title":"Intimate Archive: Dayanita Singh, the Photo-book and Feminist Iteration","authors":"Rebecca M. Brown","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2023.2213953","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2023.2213953","url":null,"abstract":"Dayanita Singh (b. 1961) has long pursued a practise of close relationships with her subjects, human and otherwise. In pairing this commitment with disseminating her photographs through book and portable museum formats, in which photographs are reused over the course of decades, she has developed a practice that she recognises as fundamentally archival. This article examines two distinct elements of Singh’s oeuvre: Myself Mona Ahmed (2001), a book created with her friend Mona, a self-described ‘eunuch’ cast out of her community in Delhi; and File Room, a constantly unfolding project appearing in multiple book and museum formats, focused on the materiality and temporality of the archive. I read both as part of Singh’s ‘intimate archive’, and understand this thread in her work as a feminist practise, one that extends to her invitation to viewers to engage with the book and museum objects, reworking these images into new intimate archives.","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"184 - 205"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"45327599","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2023.2221919
B. Haran
On 25 March 1931 nine young African Americans were arrested in Alabama for the alleged rape of two White women, nearly lynched, sentenced to death and eventually incarcerated for years. This article examines the arrest photograph of the Scottsboro Nine and enacts a ‘social biography’ in exploring its conflicting uses in American media. The article proposes that it is an ‘averted lynching photograph’ that echoes images of actual lynch mob killings. Southern newspapers used leading captions with encoded racial hierarchies that framed the Nine as violators of White womanhood. Conversely, radical media reframed the photograph, arguing that a ‘frame-up’ trial constituted a ‘legal lynching’. The Communist organisation International Labor Defense led the campaign to acquit the defendants, and its magazine Labor Defender reproduced the photograph extensively in polemical photomontages. Diverse uses in African American media varied from analogous captioning in the combative Chicago Defender to its pertinent absence in the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People’s forum The Crisis. Many of these media framings fostered the abjection and victimhood of the Nine, whether in condemnation or sympathy. The photograph was a site of contestation of conflicting values concerning race, in which the subjects had little agency.
{"title":"Photography in the Big Frame: Conflicting Media Uses of the 1931 Arrest Photograph of the Scottsboro Nine","authors":"B. Haran","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2023.2221919","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2023.2221919","url":null,"abstract":"On 25 March 1931 nine young African Americans were arrested in Alabama for the alleged rape of two White women, nearly lynched, sentenced to death and eventually incarcerated for years. This article examines the arrest photograph of the Scottsboro Nine and enacts a ‘social biography’ in exploring its conflicting uses in American media. The article proposes that it is an ‘averted lynching photograph’ that echoes images of actual lynch mob killings. Southern newspapers used leading captions with encoded racial hierarchies that framed the Nine as violators of White womanhood. Conversely, radical media reframed the photograph, arguing that a ‘frame-up’ trial constituted a ‘legal lynching’. The Communist organisation International Labor Defense led the campaign to acquit the defendants, and its magazine Labor Defender reproduced the photograph extensively in polemical photomontages. Diverse uses in African American media varied from analogous captioning in the combative Chicago Defender to its pertinent absence in the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People’s forum The Crisis. Many of these media framings fostered the abjection and victimhood of the Nine, whether in condemnation or sympathy. The photograph was a site of contestation of conflicting values concerning race, in which the subjects had little agency.","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"140 - 163"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"43994690","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2023.2186062
C. Slobogin
remarkable new readings here. The book’s final chapter is a testament to what can happen when neither portraiture nor photography is confined to its most narrow interpretation, as a conduit only of colonial ideology in Africa. This material and the readings it generates constitute Dell’s most persuasive argument for repositioning photographic portraiture as central to the ongoing re-evaluation of the colonial imaginary. It is here that the exchange promised by the title, between France and Africa, can perhaps be glimpsed for the first time.
{"title":"Photography in the Great War: The Ethics of Emerging Medical Collections from the Great War","authors":"C. Slobogin","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2023.2186062","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2023.2186062","url":null,"abstract":"remarkable new readings here. The book’s final chapter is a testament to what can happen when neither portraiture nor photography is confined to its most narrow interpretation, as a conduit only of colonial ideology in Africa. This material and the readings it generates constitute Dell’s most persuasive argument for repositioning photographic portraiture as central to the ongoing re-evaluation of the colonial imaginary. It is here that the exchange promised by the title, between France and Africa, can perhaps be glimpsed for the first time.","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"214 - 217"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"45720946","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2023.2186058
J. Bajorek
Simon Dell’s The Portrait and the Colonial Imaginary: Photography between France and Africa 1900–1939 sets out to excavate, from colonial photographic practices, new knowledge about the inner workings of both coloniality and photography. Provocatively framed and touching on diverse archives, Dell’s book demonstrates the ongoing necessity, now established after decades of transformative scholarship, of reading colonial archives from new perspectives – both ‘along’ and against the grain. The volume not only brings new material from these archives to our attention, but makes a cogent argument about why this material merits our consideration. At the same time, Dell’s research points to the many ethical and methodological challenges of working exclusively with visual and photographic images produced by colonial actors – or almost exclusively, as chapter four, on the astonishing photographic worlds of King Ibrahim Njoya of Bamum, is a notable exception to this rule. This is not colonial apologia, and Dell’s aim to ‘understand images of the colonized together with their frames of reference’ is sound. Yet his core theoretical framework, which maintains a laser-sharp focus on the colonisers’ desires visa-vis photography, severely limits the frames that are brought into play. Dell argues that, during the second half of the Third Republic (1870–1939), French colonial actors moving between France and West and Central Africa – Cameroon and Congo are key sites, although other sites are implicated – deployed photographic portraiture in ways that worked to shore up European notions of subjectivity in tandem with Western notions of representation. All three terms – subjectivity, representation, portraiture – become entangled, in this moment, in a seemingly unstoppable colonial-ideological machine, the ‘colonial imaginary’. Dell’s book is concerned with the role of photographic portraiture in a distinct subfield of this imaginary, that of ‘making men’. The precise pathologies of the Third Republic, which brought us free and secular public education, alongside a massive expansion, achieved through brutal military means, of the French colonial empire, are cast into sharp relief here. This is the era when, despite numerous internal contradictions, the Republican and the colonial imaginaries become definitively fused. Photographic portraiture is on hand to envision and embody this fusion. The argument is convincing. Yet it relies on an exceedingly narrow definition of portraiture, one that is premised on ‘a quite specific convergence of personhood and pictorial procedures’ that is, as Dell acknowledges, wholly European. To establish this convergence, in chapter one, he walks us through a philosophical story about the twin evolution of subjectivity and perspective in European art. Through
{"title":"The Portrait and the Colonial Imaginary: Photography between France and Africa 1900–1939","authors":"J. Bajorek","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2023.2186058","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2023.2186058","url":null,"abstract":"Simon Dell’s The Portrait and the Colonial Imaginary: Photography between France and Africa 1900–1939 sets out to excavate, from colonial photographic practices, new knowledge about the inner workings of both coloniality and photography. Provocatively framed and touching on diverse archives, Dell’s book demonstrates the ongoing necessity, now established after decades of transformative scholarship, of reading colonial archives from new perspectives – both ‘along’ and against the grain. The volume not only brings new material from these archives to our attention, but makes a cogent argument about why this material merits our consideration. At the same time, Dell’s research points to the many ethical and methodological challenges of working exclusively with visual and photographic images produced by colonial actors – or almost exclusively, as chapter four, on the astonishing photographic worlds of King Ibrahim Njoya of Bamum, is a notable exception to this rule. This is not colonial apologia, and Dell’s aim to ‘understand images of the colonized together with their frames of reference’ is sound. Yet his core theoretical framework, which maintains a laser-sharp focus on the colonisers’ desires visa-vis photography, severely limits the frames that are brought into play. Dell argues that, during the second half of the Third Republic (1870–1939), French colonial actors moving between France and West and Central Africa – Cameroon and Congo are key sites, although other sites are implicated – deployed photographic portraiture in ways that worked to shore up European notions of subjectivity in tandem with Western notions of representation. All three terms – subjectivity, representation, portraiture – become entangled, in this moment, in a seemingly unstoppable colonial-ideological machine, the ‘colonial imaginary’. Dell’s book is concerned with the role of photographic portraiture in a distinct subfield of this imaginary, that of ‘making men’. The precise pathologies of the Third Republic, which brought us free and secular public education, alongside a massive expansion, achieved through brutal military means, of the French colonial empire, are cast into sharp relief here. This is the era when, despite numerous internal contradictions, the Republican and the colonial imaginaries become definitively fused. Photographic portraiture is on hand to envision and embody this fusion. The argument is convincing. Yet it relies on an exceedingly narrow definition of portraiture, one that is premised on ‘a quite specific convergence of personhood and pictorial procedures’ that is, as Dell acknowledges, wholly European. To establish this convergence, in chapter one, he walks us through a philosophical story about the twin evolution of subjectivity and perspective in European art. Through","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"211 - 214"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"42007242","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2023.2186066
Jason Weems
in each of his chapters, on the knowledge produced, the medium used to present the image, its therapeutic purpose, the public or private space in which it is utilised and the manner in which it is collected and saved. The ‘drama of the raw materials’ that make up the liquid process of photography is a constant parallel to the drama and the liquidity of the facial wounds that are being photographed. By tracing the movement of these medical photographs within various archives and collections, including the extant multiples of these images, and the different formats in which they were communicated – prints, lantern slides, publications and so on – Bate convinces his readers that these images ‘are far from dry, static final prints’; they have lived multiple lives, fomented many ethical quandaries and effected various methods of collection and meaning making. At times, Bate’s points are obscured by inelegant prose. Additionally, Photography in the Great War could have benefited from another round of proofreading from the editorial team, as there are recurring typo issues. But, overall, this book adds necessary institutional, economic, cultural and personal context to images of facially injured First World War servicemen. Bate does this without shying away from the emotional roles of the patients and their families in the creation and storage of these images, as well as the historian’s ethical uncertainties in viewing and writing about these photographs.
{"title":"Latinx Photography in the United States: A Visual History","authors":"Jason Weems","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2023.2186066","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2023.2186066","url":null,"abstract":"in each of his chapters, on the knowledge produced, the medium used to present the image, its therapeutic purpose, the public or private space in which it is utilised and the manner in which it is collected and saved. The ‘drama of the raw materials’ that make up the liquid process of photography is a constant parallel to the drama and the liquidity of the facial wounds that are being photographed. By tracing the movement of these medical photographs within various archives and collections, including the extant multiples of these images, and the different formats in which they were communicated – prints, lantern slides, publications and so on – Bate convinces his readers that these images ‘are far from dry, static final prints’; they have lived multiple lives, fomented many ethical quandaries and effected various methods of collection and meaning making. At times, Bate’s points are obscured by inelegant prose. Additionally, Photography in the Great War could have benefited from another round of proofreading from the editorial team, as there are recurring typo issues. But, overall, this book adds necessary institutional, economic, cultural and personal context to images of facially injured First World War servicemen. Bate does this without shying away from the emotional roles of the patients and their families in the creation and storage of these images, as well as the historian’s ethical uncertainties in viewing and writing about these photographs.","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"217 - 220"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"48819841","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2023.2232193
B. Saunders
This article examines the photographic career of Stefano Lecchi, the Italian photographer best known for his series of photographs documenting the aftermath of the defence of the Roman Republic in 1849, a key episode in Italy’s nationalist movement, the Risorgimento. This study concentrates on the album Fotografi di Roma, which presents thirty of Lecchi’s salted paper prints from that series together with eleven topographical views. This album demonstrates how the events of the Risorgimento expanded the existing canon of Italy’s historical monuments to include new sites identified with contemporary political actions that in turn contributed to the collective memory of the founding of the nation. Using newly discovered biographical information and highlighting the transnational network of colleagues and patrons surrounding this album, the author proposes the significance of these photographs to Italian nation-building across the political spectrum and posits Lecchi as an important, although often neglected, figure in the early development of paper photography.
本文探讨了意大利摄影师Stefano Lecchi的摄影生涯,他以一系列记录1849年保卫罗马共和国的照片而闻名,这是意大利民族主义运动Risorgimento的一个关键事件。这项研究集中在《Fotografi di Roma》专辑上,该专辑展示了莱奇在该系列中的30幅咸纸版画,以及11幅地形图。这张专辑展示了Risorgimento的事件是如何扩大意大利历史古迹的现有经典,将当代政治行动确定的新遗址包括在内,这些政治行动反过来又有助于集体纪念建国。作者利用新发现的传记信息,强调了围绕这张专辑的同事和赞助人的跨国网络,提出了这些照片对意大利政治国家建设的意义,并认为莱奇是纸上摄影早期发展中的一个重要人物,尽管经常被忽视。
{"title":"Stefano Lecchi: A Photographic Pilgrimage of War","authors":"B. Saunders","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2023.2232193","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2023.2232193","url":null,"abstract":"This article examines the photographic career of Stefano Lecchi, the Italian photographer best known for his series of photographs documenting the aftermath of the defence of the Roman Republic in 1849, a key episode in Italy’s nationalist movement, the Risorgimento. This study concentrates on the album Fotografi di Roma, which presents thirty of Lecchi’s salted paper prints from that series together with eleven topographical views. This album demonstrates how the events of the Risorgimento expanded the existing canon of Italy’s historical monuments to include new sites identified with contemporary political actions that in turn contributed to the collective memory of the founding of the nation. Using newly discovered biographical information and highlighting the transnational network of colleagues and patrons surrounding this album, the author proposes the significance of these photographs to Italian nation-building across the political spectrum and posits Lecchi as an important, although often neglected, figure in the early development of paper photography.","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"77 - 97"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44785499","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Pub Date : 2022-07-03DOI: 10.1080/03087298.2023.2199651
Jeremy E. Taylor
This article explores the ways in which photography was used by the colonial state in Malaya to promote the supposed success of resettlement – the counterinsurgency scheme through which around half a million people were forcibly moved into camps, later renamed ‘New Villages’, during the Malayan Emergency (1948–60). While this study engages with the ways in which the racialised category of the ‘squatter’ – that is, rural Chinese who were the main object of resettlement – was reflected in official photography, it also argues for the need to consider such photography within broader developments in photographic practice and consumption in Southeast Asia during the early 1950s. These include the role of local Malayan photographers as part of the state propaganda apparatus and the emergence of Humanist photojournalism as a mode of expression in the same period. In doing this, the article suggests that the interaction between colonial photography and commercial photojournalism in Malaya complicates the extant literature on the ‘colonial gaze’ while contributing to an emerging body of research on the tensions between colonialism and Humanism in early postwar photography.
{"title":"Humanising the Squatter: Photography in the Service of Resettlement in Emergency-era Malaya","authors":"Jeremy E. Taylor","doi":"10.1080/03087298.2023.2199651","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1080/03087298.2023.2199651","url":null,"abstract":"This article explores the ways in which photography was used by the colonial state in Malaya to promote the supposed success of resettlement – the counterinsurgency scheme through which around half a million people were forcibly moved into camps, later renamed ‘New Villages’, during the Malayan Emergency (1948–60). While this study engages with the ways in which the racialised category of the ‘squatter’ – that is, rural Chinese who were the main object of resettlement – was reflected in official photography, it also argues for the need to consider such photography within broader developments in photographic practice and consumption in Southeast Asia during the early 1950s. These include the role of local Malayan photographers as part of the state propaganda apparatus and the emergence of Humanist photojournalism as a mode of expression in the same period. In doing this, the article suggests that the interaction between colonial photography and commercial photojournalism in Malaya complicates the extant literature on the ‘colonial gaze’ while contributing to an emerging body of research on the tensions between colonialism and Humanism in early postwar photography.","PeriodicalId":13024,"journal":{"name":"History of Photography","volume":"46 1","pages":"164 - 183"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2,"publicationDate":"2022-07-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"42146039","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":2,"RegionCategory":"艺术学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}