Four Portraits of Drummers

A bass drum is the heartbeat of any musical ensemble. In a military band its beat sets the stride cadence for marching soldiers. In a pop band its thumping accents mark the step turns for dancers. In an orchestra it thunders at every crescendo and always strikes the last wallop in a finale. It's an essential instrument for a wide variety of rhythmic music but it's often underappreciated for how it synchronizes the pulse of an ensemble's musicians. 

This bass drummer certainly knew his worth as he wrote a note on his postcard photo. 

Let this do Your Drumming  

He is a young man, late teens or early twenties, dressed in dark trousers, a bright white uniform jacket with white bowtie, and a white hat with his band's name — ELLINGTON. He is actually holding two instruments—a bass drum and a set of cymbals. His drum uses old-fashioned rope tensioning for the heads. Bits of leather called ears tighten the rope loops to make the heads taunt for a ringing thud. One cymbal is attached to the drum shell while the other is held in the drummer's left hand. It's a traditional coupling for a percussionist which lets the bass drum sound strong beats while cymbals mark weaker afterbeats as in BOOM-pah, BOOM-pah, BOOM-pah, etc. And so he doesn't lose count there is a music lyre attached to the top of the drum to hold his part.

Unfortunately his postcard is not marked and I can only guess that it was taken in the United States sometime around 1906-1916. There are eight towns named Ellington in the U.S. and it's likely that each one had a band in the early 20th century. And of course the band might be named for its band leader, too. However I don't think Duke Ellington's band, which was formed a few decades later, every did much marching. 

* * *

My second drummer stands in front of a photographer's studio backdrop, a painted scene of a bucolic landscape. At his waist hangs a snare drum which has threaded rod tensioners and possibly a metal shell. The drum is tilted so that his drumsticks are positioned in a characteristic grip that puts more power to the dominant right hand. Notice that he has his music held in a lyre which is pinned to his coat. This man looks to be in his late twenties or thirties. He wears a bandsman's uniform and kepi hat in a dark color, typical of those worn by bands in the late 19th century. His long twisty mustache likely dates him to the 1890s. 

This cabinet card photograph was taken at the Photographic Art Studio of C. Numa in Halstein, Iowa. At sometime in the distant past the photo was mounted on a wall as it has four holes punched through the cardstock.  

Halstein is situated in west central Iowa about 46 miles east of Sioux City. In 1890, on its first census, it had just 539 inhabitants. A decade later in 1900 it could boast of a 61.4% increase to 870. Its current population is about 1,500.   

* * *

My third percussionist is a cymbals player, technically not a drum, but still a vital part of a drum section. The flashy clash of brass cymbals has always been an important sound color in music dating back to the ancient cultures of China, Egypt, and India. European music adopted cymbals from the Ottoman Empire's Janissary military bands. In the late 18th century both Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Joseph Haydn used cymbals to add an exotic Turkish flavor to their music.  

This young man stands in front of another photographer's faux wooded glen but with extra 3-D shrubbery, grass, and stumps to add realism. He keeps a tight grip on his pair of cymbals as the most embarassing moment for any percussionist is to unwittingly initiate an accidental cymbal crash. His bandsman's uniform is similar to the previous drummer but I think it dates from the 1880s. The white belt across his left shoulder is for his music satchel, hidden by his right hand. I don't know that I've ever seen a cymbalist use a music lyre. Maybe they just memorize the score. His kepi hat has large badge that in neat lettering reads Seventh Ward Band,  which relates to a neighborhood section of his hometown of Johnstown, Pennsylvania.

The photo was taken by photographer G. M. Greene of No 127 Franklin Steet, opposite the M. E. Stone Church, in Johnstown, Pennsylvania. Johnstown. His full name was George Miles Greene. Born in 1835 he set up a successful studio in downtown Johnstown which was tragically destroyed in the Great Johnstown Flood of 1889. 

This horrendous catastrophe occurred on Friday, 31 May 1889, after the South Fork Dam, located on the Little Conemaugh River, 14 miles (23 km) upstream of Johnstown, ruptured after several days of extremely heavy rainfall. Over 14.55 million cubic meters of water was suddenly released and the resulting flood killed 2,208 people. The damage cost to the city and environs was estimated at $17 million (equivalent to $536 million in 2024).

Mr. Greene was able to restart his business but in 1894 poor health forced him to sell it. He died the following year at age 65. 

Because of this terrible calamity this photo must date prior to May 1889. It also begs a question, did the young man survive? We can never know but it adds a special back story to the photo.

* * *

My fourth drummer is a handsome young man with arguably the best mustache. He leans against a faux plinth with a dramatic natural scene behind him, not a landscape, I think, but either a seascape or river/lake view. His arms and legs are casually crossed with his shako hat and music satchel placed atop the plinth and his snare drum lying at his feet. He wears a very impressive military style uniform with striped trousers, cutaway jacket, white belt, and fringed epaulets. It very like a state militia/nation guardsman's uniform. On his white music satchel is a name: Chelsea.  

Chelsea is a small city in Washtenaw County, Michigan, about 53 miles west of Detroit, in between Ann Arbor and Jackson, Michigan. In 1880 Chelsea had 1,160 residents and in 140+ years its population has grown to around 5,500. 

The photographer was E. E. Shaver of Chelsea whose cardstock back has an nice illustration of a camera and artist's palette illuminated by the sun. Just above is a wonderful clear note with names and a date. 

Mr. G. A. Lacey
Original member of the
Excelsior Cornet Band
organzed (sic) Feb. 19 - 1878
Presented by Lillie Wackenhut

The snare drummer was George A. Lacey. In the 1880 U. S. census for Chelsea village he was listed, age 29, next to his wife, Phebe Lacey, age 27, with no children. George's occupation was "Watch Tinker", i.e. watch repairer. Unfortunately I was unable to find any more references to him in any official records or newspapers. So he will remain lost in time.

The photographer was Ernest Ebenizer Shaver. He was also listed in Chelsea's 1880 census, at age 30 living with his wife, Martha Shaver, age 22, but without children. Ernest's occupation was "Deguerian (sic) Artist."  According to another short history on Chelsea, Ernest Shaver, like George Lacey, was also a founding member of Chelsea's Excelsior Cornet Band. I found just one reference to the band in an 1881 report about a county band contest where it won 2nd prize. It was described as having just 13 musicians. In other reports it played for local dances and patriotic events but does not seem to have lasted more than a decade. Shaver died in 1917.

 Lillie Wackenhut was also in the 1880 census. She was the youngest of two daughters of George and Martha Wackenhut. Her older sister Letta was 3 and Lillie was just 1 year of age. George Wackenhut was 29 and worked as a "Clerk in Store". Since he was the same age as George, I suspect they both played together with Ernest in the Excelsior Cornet Band. I'd bet anything that Ernest made portraits of all the band's members, too, especially as I think George Lacey is posing in a splendid new uniform. 

The bottom phrase in the annotation: "Presented by Lillie Wackenhut" sounds to me like it was a gift from Lillie, and not to Lillie, especially as she was not yet born when the Excelsior Cornet Band was established. I suspect that when she was much older she gave this photo to someone or some historical society as a memento of Chelsea's cultural history. I also think it's possible that she had copies of the other portraits of the band's members and may have donated them too. Lillie May Wackenhut died in 1965 at age 86 and is buried with her parents in a cemetery in Chelsea, Michigan. I could not find any information that she ever married or had children. 

***

Nearly every antique photograph in my collection of a band has drummers. A band's name was often stenciled onto the head of a bass drum which serves to identify the band and its location. Bass drums, snare drums and cymbals are not complicated instruments and, of course, never get to play a melody. But to keep a musical group together, drums require a player who has a fine sense of rhythm and impeccable timing. For some inexplicable reason portraits of drummers are surprising rare. I have hundreds of cdv and cabinet photos of individual musicians with their cornet, clarinet, trombone, tuba, violin, cello, and the like, but hardly any percussion musicians pictured with their drum. The cymbal player from Johnstown is the first one I have acquired like that. I'll keep my eye out for more.      

To finish with some drum noise
here is a short YouTube video
from the Marching.com channel
of the U.S. Marine Drum & Bugle Corps Percussion
playing their warmup drill just before the closing ceremony
of the World Association of Marching Show Bands (WAMSB)
2023 World Championships held in Buckhannon, West Virginia.
It's a good demonstration of how drummers
think differently than other musicians.

Did you know the U.S. military issued cow bells?

And here is another YouTube video
from the Marching.com channel
of the Euroband Rotterdam (Netherlands)
in the 2025 Corso Zundert flower parade.
The cameraman is positioned at the front
of the band as it marches
giving a great viewpoint of the drummers
and the drum major.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where no one ever keeps score.

 

A Lady from Baltimore

 

This is Ann.
She had this photo taken
in Baltimore, Maryland.
She paid 25¢ for four.
Plus tax.

She represents an example of what I call "people of the shadows"—the subjects who sat still long enough for a  camera to capture their likeness during the first decades of photography. The alchemy of early photographs—daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, and ferrotypes, that is tintypes like Ann's photo, translated light that went through a camera's lens into subtle tones of waxy whites, chalky grays, and dense blacks. These phototypes lacked the chemistry to record true colors, though occasionally a photographer, as in Ann's tintype,  would apply little tints of red to cheeks or lips when processing the image. The general effect of these early photo processes created portraits of people in somber clothing seemingly surrounded by dim backgrounds, hence "people of the shadows." Nonetheless these early photo processes could achieve a remarkable clarity that rivals modern photographs.

But the other reason I call them people of the shadows is that these early phototypes rarely display any information about the subjects. People are usually anonymous, their names, dates, and location unknown. The first generations of fragile daguerreotypes and ambrotypes came in protective wooden cases that often have no imprints for a photographer's name or place of business. Tintypes, being made of thin iron sheet, were more durable photos but often became separated from their paper envelopes and few have marks for names or dates scratched onto the metal backs.

So without good clues to figure out the basics of who, when, and where, these photos can be a very challenging if not impossible puzzles to solve.  

Ann's portrait is an exception.
It contains a surprising amount of information.
Yet, as I will explain,
she still remains partly in the shadows.

  

This is the full image of her photo scanned without any digital correction. Her photo is pasted into a paper mount the same size as a carte de visite, 3 7/8" x 2 3/8" with her face centered in an elegant embossed oval cartouche pattern. The tintype is much smaller and rectangular. It is a  called a 1/16th plate size about 1 7/8" high and 1 5/8" wide. In the upper right is a signature which we will examine in a moment,         

The back has a full printed advertisement for the photographer.

FROM
The Original 25 cent
Gem Picture Gallery
No. 9 N. Gay Street
G. W, Hewitt & Co.
4 of this style Pictures.    _    25 Cents.
Large size Photographs,    _    _    $1.50
Duplicates,    _    _    _    _    _    _    1.00
Cartes de Viste, Per Doz.    _    _        2.00

GEO. W. HEWITT
Manufacturer of
Square and Oval Gilt Frames.
Looking Glass Mirrors,
Bracket Tables, &c.
also on hand a fine assortment of
Albums, Stereoscopes and Views,
Engravings. Figures, &c.,  50 per
cent [c]heaper than any other estab-
lishment [in] the city.  Pictures of all
kinds copied at the shortest notice.
No. 9 Gay Street,
Photograph & Frame Gallery

Mr. Hewitt's advertisement is printed on a separate paper that was applied over the photo. It shows through as an eight-sided outline of the metal plate. "Gem" tintypes, ½" x 1", are very small, hardly bigger than a postage stamp, but I think this photo was offered as a gem and was produced in the same manner using a camera with four lens. Here is an illustration of a similar camera featured in an 1872 handbook on ferrotype photography. The tintype metal plate was inserted wet with emulsion into the camera back and when exposed the four lens created four images at one time. After developing and fixing the plate was cut into four individual photos.    

The Climax Camera, No 43, fited with four ¼ lenses
Source: The Ferrotype and how to Make it 
by Edward M. Estabrooke 

Here is a second camera with nine lens for making smaller photos. The process could produce nine duplicates of a single sitting, or nine separate images opening each lens one at a time.

The Success Camera O, fitted with nine 1/9th 
and four 1/4th lenses
Source: The Ferrotype and how to Make it
by Edward M. Estabrooke

What makes this photo special is a blue 2¢ U. S. Internal Revenue stamp in the upper corner on the back of the tintype's paper mount. It was affixed before Mr. Hewitt pasted on his gallery's advertisement on top of it. Then he marked it with a rubberstamp date: Feb 17, 1866. 

It was a Saturday. On this day former Confederate general Robert E. Lee was in Washington, D. C. to testify before a Congressional Joint Committee on Reconstruction. The committee members had tough questions for him regarding Southern attitudes to war debts, the status of freedmen, and the conditions of reconstruction.

This date was just 8 months and 22 days after the end of America's terrible Civil War. Though the world was now moving on, most Americans were still divided by the horrendous assassination of President Abraham Lincoln on April 14, 1865 and the complex political mess it provoked in the postwar period. This blue tax stamp was a small remanent of four years of the war's hardships as it was first introduced in the Revenue Act of 1862 to help the Federal government fund the war through an excise tax on a wide variety of goods, services and legal dealings. 

Photographs were still a modern novelty when the war started. As tintypes and carte de visites became more popular due to their cheaper price the Internal Revenue department passed a 'photograph tax' in August 1864 that required photographers to pay a tax on the sale of their products. This proprietary tax was applied to several other widely used products, such as cotton, tobacco and alcohol. Even though the war was officially ended on 26 May 1865 the tax had persisted, since, of course, the Federal government still needed to pay its debts. Obviously this still upset many people so Congress repealed the tax on 1 August 1866, two years exactly after it was imposed.

Mr. Hewitt was one of Baltimore's businessmen to take exception to this lingering tax. So he ran advertisements in local newspapers explaining why he need to raise prices.

Baltimore Sun
29 January 1866

 Card to the Public

              Having been the first to introduce to the public
            of Baltimore Four Gem Pictures for 25 cents,
            making our calculations for 6 per cent. ad valo-
            rem tax, we are now authorized by the commis-
            sioners of internal revenue to affix to each and
            every card issued from our establishment a two
            cent stamp, which will be a stamp tax of 32 per
            cent.  Not wishing to vary from our regular
            prices, we will still continue to take
                       Four Gun Pictures for 25 Cents.
            But we will be compelled to charge our cus-
            tomers 10 cents extra for stamping.
              We have made no alteration in the price of our
            large pictures, as 5 per cent. is all the govern-
            ment requires on them, but 32 per cent. being
            more than our net profits on our small pictures
            our customers will have to pay it.
              We cordially thank the citizens of Baltimore
            for the kind patronage they have so liberally ex-
            tended to us.  We will hereafter show our grati-
            tude by furnishing them with pictures that can-
            not be surpassed by any other Establishment of
            the kind in the city.
                          Geo. W. Hewitt & Co..
                           No. 9 North Gay street.

So when Ann bought a set of four portrait Gems, she paid a total of 35¢ which was a not insubstantial amount consider that many workers in Maryland earned 10¢<15¢ an hour in 1866.  

The photographer George Washington Hewitt was born on the 4th of July 1838 in Baltimore, the son of John Hill Hewitt (1801—1890) a noted poet and prolific composer and author. Though he was from New York City, Hewitt the elder made his career in the southern states and became a rival of both the poet Edgar Allen Poe and the song writer Stephen Foster. 

His son George W. Hewitt seems to have started his business as a carver and gilder in the late 1850s with an address at No. 23 West Fayette street in Baltimore. In May of 1861, just a month after the Civil War began, he ran a newspaper ad that showed he was a bit of an entrepreneur.  

WAR !–WAR !–WAR !– INTENSE EXCITEMENT.—Great Sacrifice in beautiful GILT OVAL FRAMES, for Photographs.  Your choice for One Dollar, at the Original One Dollar Frame Store.

 

Baltimore Sun
23 May 1861

Note the other promotions for a book entitled "The Soldier's Guide" which was marketed as a useful military handbook to young men who were volunteering for the Federal army.

In 1863 Hewitt was listed at 9 N. Gay street in the Baltimore city directory under "Looking Glass and Picture Frame Makers." In his advertisements this address was his store while his factory was on West Fayette street. In May 1863 he included a photographer Mr. W. E. Cook who "occupies a portion of the same store for the sale of Cabinet Photographs, a new style of picture, taken from original Oil Paintings in France and England." By the following year the partnership with Mr. Cook seems finished but Hewitt then begins offering his patrons Gem ferrotypes and larger photos as his gallery of frames and mirrors. 

Baltimore Sun
14 May 1863

By 1867 George W. Hewitt is no longer residing in Baltimore, but has moved south to Staunton, Virginia in the Shenandoah Valley. He sets up a decorator's shop dealing in wall paper and upholstery. Occasionally he also tuned and repaired pianos, but as far as I can determine he never took up photography again. He died in Staunton in 1906 at age 68. He was remembered with an obituary in both Staunton and Baltimore newspapers. 

Now it's time to look at a signature 
What name can you read?

I think it spells  Ann L Polona or Poloma. The short first name is written with a downward flourish that I think is just decorative but it could be Anny L. The surname is very unusual and I have tried countless different interpretations of the letters. The shape of the letters conform to cursive handwriting standards of 19th century English and the capitals A, L, P are quite consistent.  According to Google's AI,  Polona has "Slavic and Eastern European roots related to Poland", while Poloma is a Spanish name derived from the Spanish word paloma, meaning "dove" 

But I can't find her. No one named Ann L Polona/Poloma is listed in any official records or city directories from anywhere in the United States, much less Baltimore in 1866. Her name is not found in any newspaper archives either. All I could find were a few people with variant spelled surnames but those people lived in latter decades. It is a curious place to put a penciled signature curved around to fit the corner. Perhaps it's not the name of the woman photographed in 1866 but the name of a recipient she gave it to. Or maybe it's the name of a collector who bought the photo in 1946 or 2006. Who knows? I really can't tell. 

It's frustrating to have a perfect trifecta of antique photo information on name, place, and date and not be able to confirm a the most important identification—the subject's name. Of course women's names are always a challenge to research since they usually, but not always, adopt a new surname on marriage. Is there a Mr. Polona/Poloma? I've looked, and looked again, and still fail to find anyone who would fit the other facts from this tintype from Baltimore.

But I can do one thing more. I can flip the photo from its positive mirror image created by the tintype process into her real face which we would have seen when Ann visited Mr. Hewitt's gallery in February 1866. Somehow that lightens her features to bring her a little bit out of the shadows that conceal her identity. 

She appears to be an attractive mature young woman, late 20s or mid 30s, with beautiful dark eyes and high cheekbones. Her hair is dark, too, and pulled tight back in the feminine style of this era, but I detect a hint of wave or curl. Below her ears are what looks like oval earrings but I think they are some kind of fastener that holds her hair. A locket tied tight around her neck is large and could have a carved design. It might hold a small photo, perhaps a picture of a husband or sweetheart. In 1866 that could be a treasured memento of a beloved lost in the war. Which may explain her serious expression. Yet she doesn't look so much sad as thoughtful. What is she thinking about?

Mr. Hewitt's gallery at No. 9 N. Gay street in Baltimore was in the city's central business district. It was less than a half mile to his frame factory at No. 23 West Fayette. Baltimore's city hall was just a block away, and the city's ship docks were only 4 blocks south. Also very close were a couple of major theatres that offered all kinds of entertainment, even during the war, including minstrel shows, melodramas, and opera. These traveling troupes would play in Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Washington, and Baltimore, too. Many included on their playbills performers from Europe—England, France, Germany, Italy, even Spain or South America. 

It seems quite possible that Ann L Polona/Poloma might be connected to one of these touring theatrical or opera companies. Her name, like many entertainers of the day, could be a stage name, invented to sound more artistic. Since entertainers lived in hotels without any settled residence, they were rarely recorded in census reports or city directories. Their names might be attached to a newspaper review if they were a star, but not if they were a supporting actor or the spouse of an entertainer. It's only a guess but imagination is all I have left to answer the question of her identity.

Sometimes people of the shadows leave only the essence of their humanity. The details of their lives and loves are unknown. Their past and future forever concealed. Their relations with other people a mystery. Yet their sepia tone photograph presents us with a face that makes us wonder. Who was this person? What were they like? Why did they pose for this picture? 

 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where fine portraits are a dime a dozen.

Victorian Photographers - Gentlemen in Chairs

It was a question that required some thought.
How would you like to be remembered?

Once upon a time, having a portrait photograph made
was an important milestone in one's life.
It was a record of a moment
but it was also a memento of achievement. 

In preparing for the camera,
besides one's favorite suit
and a proper shave by your barber,
what else could you do to look your best?

Perhaps use some props
to convey distinction and gentility.
A few books at hand always added
a serious enlightened quality to a portrait.

For some men a book was considered unnecessary.
It was their distinguished visage
and earnest expression that said it all.
Even while seated relaxed at a desk
their face could not conceal
an upstanding self-confidence. 

For others, posing for a photograph was easy
if you understood how a camera worked.
It was as simple as looking at a mirror
and liking what you saw.

Yet a few men felt

it was important for posterity
to include symbols of their life
in this new medium of a photograph. 

As the great bard would say,

                                                        All the world’s a stage,

                                                        And all the men and women merely players;

                                                        They have their exits and their entrances;

                                                        And one man in his time plays many parts...

'As You Like It' (1599) act 2, sc. 7, l. 139

Today I present five Victorian gentlemen
who once posed for a photographer
and left behind a small carte de visite photo
of the occasion for me to find
and for others to admire.

My first gentleman is a man about age 50-60 seated in a carved wooden armchair which has a seat and back upholstered in fine fabric. He looks direct into the camera lens as he rests one hand on some small books placed on an ornately carved/turned pedestal side table. The books are about the same size as a modern paperback and I believe they are likely works of fiction rather than scholarly or theological tomes.

The photograph was produced by the Theweneti brothers' studio of Bath, a historic city in Somerset, England, that is famous for and named after its Roman-built baths which were built around its natural hot springs. Beginning in the Stuart period and later Georgian era it became a popular destination for people seeking a restorative health treatment from its waters. In the 1860s many photographers set up studios in Bath to cater to its many visitors. This cdv has no name or date, but the simple small type of the photographer and the square corners dates it to the 1860s.

The carte de visite, 'visiting card' or cdv, was first developed in 1854 by French photographer André Adolphe Eugène Disdéri. A cdv image was an albumen print made from a collodion negative on thin paper that was glued onto thicker paper cardstock the same size as a formal visiting card, about 4½ x 2½ inches (11.4 x 6.3 cm). Because the photographic process was reproducible, a photographer could easily print any number of copies for a very inexpensive price. These two factors led to the cdv becoming a very popular portrait medium in the 1860s-70s.  

* * *

My second gentleman also sits, but this time at a desk. He is also in his late 50s or 60s and wears a long frock coat that, I think, gives him the air of a businessman. He has a thoughtful gaze away from the camera as he holds an open book, maybe with pen in hand. The desk is an ingenious compact writing desk called a davenport or sea captain's desk that, supposedly, originates from a design first made in the 1790s for a Captain Davenport by Gillows of Lancaster. A davenport features a sloped, leather-lined top, that lifts to reveal a compartment for stationary. One side has a set of drawers and there are often hidden secret drawers, or a brass or wood gallery for storing letters. 

The photographer was J. W. Clarke of 1 Wool Hall Street, opposite West door of Corn Exchange, in Bury St. Edmunds, a cathedral and market town in the county of Suffolk, England. This cdv is signed and dated by its subject, but the handwriting style is challenging to decipher. I think it reads:

Julian Hale Sawyer

1870 

* * *

My third gentleman also sits at a davenport but without extra props. His silver grey hair definitely put him in his late 60s or 70s. Like all of the examples I present here, I have no knowledge of his background other than the photographer's name and location. But as this cdv was made by Rae Photo of Dumfries, Scotland I presume he is Scottish. 

The back of the cdv has an imprint of a stag over Rae, Photographer, Dumfries, (duplicates may be had). The more detailed style of imprint dates the photo to the late 1860s or early 1870s. Dumfries is a market town and former royal burgh situated in the western part of Scotland's Southern Uplands, near the mouth of the River Nith on the Solway Firth. The celebrated Scottish poet and lyricist Robert Burns (1758–1796) lived in Dumfries during the last years of his life. 

* * *

My next gentleman sits cross-legged in a relaxed manner like the man from Dumfries but he has a most engaging face looking straight into the camera lens, almost with a smile. He looks to be in his 30s though his pate is bare, but he sports a neatly trimmed beard strap without mustache or chin whiskers. I've seen this hairstyle on photos of clerics, but this man is dressed in a regular suit with an ordinary collar and black bowtie. Yet I think his choice of a neck-beard is an indication of some special career, perhaps in medicine or academia. To one side is another davenport desk, a fashionable studio furnishing seen in many cdv photographs from this era.

The photographer was John Bull of Melcombe Villa in Weymouth, a seaside town in the ceremonial county of Dorset, England. It is situated on a sheltered bay by the English Channel at the mouth of the River Wey. During the Georgian era, Weymouth was a popular place for Britain's upper class to take summer holidays, but after a railway line was built in 1857 connecting it to London it boosted trade and tourism attracting many more visitors. I suspect this photograph was taken in the late 1860s. 

* * *

My final gentleman is seated at an ornate pedestal table while holding some letters or papers. On the table is a large bust of William Shakespeare. His gaze is just slightly to the left of the camera. He appears a mature man of age 50+ with grey hair and a kind of hybrid mustache, side chops, and chin beard. Unlike the other photographers' studio sets which had mostly empty backwalls for good light contrast, this studio has a wall painted with a dramatic mountainous landscape that includes a castle. It's a more rugged scene than anywhere in British Isles, I think.  

After a search of the internet, I think the bust of Shakespeare is a bronze casting made by the F. Barbedienne Foundry in Paris following a design by the French sculptor Jean-Antoine Houdon (1741–1828). It is described as dating from the 1870s which I think fits with this cdv's qualities. The studio was that of the Southwell brothers, Photographers Royal, at 16 & 22 Baker Street in London. The word "Royal" meant that the Southwell brothers' studio held an official Royal Warrant, indicating they were authorized to photograph Queen Victoria or members of the Royal Household.    

This is the first story of what will be a series exploring carte de visite photos. Unlike my usual stories about photos of musicians and musical groups, the subjects of this series are ordinary people without any obvious connections to music. Instead I'd like to present examples of photo portraits taken in the first decades of the photographic age.  

A few months ago I acquired several carte de visite photos of celebrated European musicians and composers which I hope to feature in some future stories. But in the process I came across one British dealer who offered thousands of portrait photos, all cdvs, roughly from the 1860s to the 1880s. Most of these photos had superb clarity and included men, women, children, and couples from Britain and France. The photos were also listed at amazingly cheap prices. So with a few clicks of the mouse button I bought them and in the process created a new album for my collection. 

The subjects are mostly unknown, but the photographers' names place them in a large variety of locations that shows how quickly the cdv medium spread. I've come to think about this collection as like a crowded Victorian railway station filled with anonymous people going every which way. We see an interesting face and wonder. What does that person do? How old are they? Where are they from? Why are they dressed that way?

As the great bard said,

                                                    All the world’s a stage,

                                                    And all the men and women merely players...

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where a television once had only three channels

and the evening news was really news.

 

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 would go to just to experience a sunrise over 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 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.