More Smiles for the Camera!

 

It's a simple request,
an invitation really.
"Smile, please."

But do we look
at the camera
or at the photographer?

At other times it can be a plea,
a desire to see a face shine.
But some people are just shy
or perhaps too coy to smile.

Once in awhile a smile comes naturally.
A spontaneous expression
stirred by a wonder
too beautiful for words.

Yet when the shutter clicks
each smile, scowl,
 grin, or grimace
will be caught
by the camera,
preserved on film,
and printed on paper
for all to enjoy.

Today I present
a few postcards and photos
of photographers with their cameras.

L'Objectif

Regardez mon objectif,

Le trouvez-vous suggestif?..

Je voulais votre portrait,

L'occasion est unique,

Je vousa cueille sans réplique:

Un... deux... trois... voilà; c'est fait!
                                            A. G.

The Objective

Look at my objective,

Do you find it suggestive?

I wanted your portrait,

The opportunity is unique,

I'll capture you without a word:

One... two... three... there; it's done!
                                        A. G.

This young French photographer entices us to admire her equipment and focus on her camera lens. A short note is written on the front: Bon souvenirs ~ Good Memories. I believe this postcard and its short verse were part of a series of lighthearted images produced to promote the novelty of having one's picture taken. This card was sent to another young lady in Ligny-en-Barrois, France on 27 July 1903.

* * *

On this postcard we are shown a scene not unlike a screenshot from a film. A young couple sit at the base of a great tree in a forest. The man, a member of clergy to judge by his collar, makes some earnest entreaty to a young woman who looks away dejectedly. Meanwhile in the background two men with cameras furtively attempt to photograph the couple.

The caption reads: Camera Fiends.  

The card was posted on 23 October 1905 from Tiverton, a town in Devon, England, to Mrs. Dilten(?) of Newbury in West Berkshire, about 120 miles northeast of Tiverton.

                                Very sorry not to have
                                written before but do not
                                seem to have time.
                                Will write later on.
                                When are you coming
                                home again shall be 
                                glad to see you.
                                I am making a blouse
                                & hundred & one other things
                                so am pretty well filled up.
                                            Love from all  X Gweneth X
 

* * *

This postcard is an illustration, not a photo. A group of seven figures, male and female silhouettes, cut from black paper I think, gaze on a grand view of snowcapped mountains. Most of the people have umbrellas, canes or walking staffs, but on the left one person is bent over, hidden under a hooded camera that is mounted on a tripod. He is either focused on the mountains or on the other tourists admiring the majestic landscape. There is a caption in French and German:

Lever de soleil                Sonnenaufgang      

3 h. du matin                  morgens 3 Uhr   

~

Sunrise

3 a.m.

   On the side of the image is a printed name of the publisher:
902 Éditeur: Comptoi. De Phototypie,  Neuchatel (Suisse)

 

The card was sent from La Côte-aux-Fées, Switzerland on 31 August 1899 to Monsieur Carey in Geneva which is about 60 miles to the south. It has a playful quality that makes fun of the efforts foreign visitors go to to experience the Alps. 

* * *

For a theme of cameras and photographers
I can't resist including some pictures
of the photographer I know best. 

This young soldier is a very long way from the Alps but he does have a Swiss camera hanging over his shoulder. This is my dad, Russ Brubaker, smiling for the camera as he stands on a rocky mountain ledge overlooking the Sea of Japan. It is 1952 and he was a Lieutenant in the 2nd Infantry Division of the U. S. Army serving in South Korea. He had only been married to my mom for a couple of months when he was ordered to join the forces battling the Chinese and North Koreans in Korea. This photo was taken that summer and he wrote a caption on the back.

 Gee ... !  I'd love to have a beer!
note the sweat on my hat band.

In this photo Russ stands next to a tall rocky embankment as he fiddles with his camera. His caption on the back says:

 Koje   Turning up the next picture

Koje is an island on the southern coast of the Korean peninsula. 

This was his new camera, an Alpa 35mm single lens reflex made in Switzerland that he had recently purchased in Japan while on leave. I suspect he was still getting used to the mechanism for reloading film. It was his second camera, an improvement over a cheaper 16mm fixed lens mini-camera which is what took this picture held by one of his comrades. These snapshots were processed by a photo service which I presume was at an American military base in Japan. After the prints came back my dad carefully fixed these photos of his war service into an album, each mounted with adhesive corners on heavy black paper with captions in white ink. 

 

I almost missed this photo as the print was rather dark. But looking closely I recognized a face. It's my dad taking a selfie while wearing his army helmet. This photo has a caption too. 

"reflections on a search light" 

It's a variation on the first photo that he took with his Alpa camera, another selfie using a Tokyo hotel room mirror, which begins my December 2021 story The Eye Behind the Camera. Here he must have been walking around his unit's compound and spotted the mirror of the searchlight. After I played with the digital scan I improved the contrast to show a pretty decent composition. However I suspect that when the searchlight was turned on the heat from the lamp, not to mention its brightness, would have made it very dangerous to be this close. With his helmet on he looks like another photo.

This is a closeup crop from another photo of my dad in Korea that I featured in Everything In Focus back in August 2018. None of his photos show any of combat or action. Most are of people, soldiers mainly, who smile for his camera. Fortunately his unit was never involved in the worst battles of the Korean War, but he still endured enough discomfort to recognize that he wasn't cut out for the infantry. The following year he transferred to the U. S. Army Transportation Corps where he found that handling logistics for the army made for a more rewarding career. He continued for another 25 years retiring as a Lt. Colonel. 

Since I had not yet come into the picture, so to speak, the memories in these photos are not mine. I only grew up thumbing through the pages of these photo albums, mostly paying no attention to my dad's stories about his comrades and the war they experienced. I know now that this first exposure to combat overseas defined his commitment of service to his country. It makes me proud to see him in uniform. But what I most recognize in these photos, something I noticed even as a child, is my dad's smile. It was a face full of friendly enthusiasm and unbounded curiosity. It was a smile for the camera that still makes me smile. 

This my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where, for a change, the camera takes center stage.