There's a longing that goes with a visit to a show of early photographs, a wish for the impossible -- to be back there and experience the excitement that accompanied this invention of a new way to picture the world.
And it's doubled when the show is of early American photographs, for the new medium was being used to record a still relatively new country whose possibilities -- like those of photography itself -- seemed limitless.
In the show "American Photographs: The First Century" at Washington's National Museum of American Art, one sees in the photographs of the vast Western landscape a sense of the wonder of what's there combined with the enthusiasm for capturing it. That's probably best seen in Timothy O'Sullivan's "Black Canyon, Colorado River, from Camp 8, Looking Above" (1871).
We see the sides of the canyon, making a V down to the water below as in many other such works; but in the foreground O'Sullivan has included the photographer's little boat, with his black-cloth-covered makeshift darkroom. It's as if he's showing us that with such modest means he can make himself and all of us the owners of the whole visible world.
The same sense of joy and pride in use of the medium and its ability to immortalize the moment comes through just as strongly in pictures of subject matter less obviously awesome. A sense of occasion and dignity permeates an unidentified artist's "Two Workmen Polishing a Stove" (about 1865). In another unidentified photographer's "Artists' Excursion, Sir John's Run, Berkeley Springs" (1858), the group of artists are gathered around and on a locomotive -- as if they are there to introduce locomotive and camera, those recent inventions, to each other.
Gain and loss
Advances often bring with them a sense of loss. The printed book is not the unique work of art that an illuminated manuscript was, and when we can all go out and snap photographs at will (whatever the quality) we necessarily lose the sense of accomplishment that must have accompanied the creation of an image a century and a half ago.
Even technical advances, as this show reminds us, are not without their downside. The image produced by a salted paper print, such as Franklin White's "Trapped Boulder, White Mountains" (1859) is not as crisp as that produced by the albumen print, such as William Bell's "Perched Rock, Rocker Creek, Arizona" (1872). But the earlier work possesses a certain tonal subtlety and elegance that eludes the later one. And how often do we achieve today the astonishing clarity of detail that was possible with the daguerreotype, as in "The Ohio Star Buggy" (about 1850), by an unidentified artist?
This exhibit of some 160 photographs, dating from the mid-19th century to about 1935, offers an assemblage of many individual pleasures rather than a complete overview of the period covered. That's only natural, since it reflects one person's taste. It represents about half of the collection of Charles Isaacs, a Philadelphia photographer and collector, which the museum acquired by purchase and gift two years ago.
In his brief essay in the accompanying catalog, Isaacs states that he began collecting photography in the mid-1970s, and soon concentrated on American work both because it was more affordable than European photography and because he was drawn to certain qualities of American pictures.
"American pictures were, to a great extent, made for straightforward commercial or prosaic reasons by camera operators with few pretensions to being artists," he writes. "At their best, a heightened sense of the power of the vernacular permeates them. To my eye, something in their unadorned, if sometimes surreal, honesty makes them appealing. At the same time, some photographers made pictures that are sublimely beautiful, inspired perhaps by the idea of art but just as surely by the beauty of their often still-wild and natural surroundings. This combination of understated lyricism and romance, with the oddball leavening of the commonplace, is what, to me, makes American photographs so unique."
To appreciate Isaacs' observations, one need only compare the American photographs in this show with the European ones in New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art show of 1993 covering the same period, "The Waking Dream: Photography's First Century."
Before the period of the turn-of-the-century pictorialists, whose concern was to elevate photography to the status of an art form, there is little in these American photographs to match the self-conscious artistry evident in much of the early work from England and France: the drama of lighting and composition, the stage-like poses, the symbolic juxtaposition of objects. What was there seems to have been remarkable enough for the Americans; they didn't have to make more of it.
And they rarely looked back, no doubt because there wasn't that much behind them to look back to. Europeans often photographed the monuments of earlier ages -- Greek temples, Egyptian pyramids, Roman ruins, the Taj Mahal. Americans, at least judging by this collection, were content with the here and now.
What they photographed is organized here into sections by subject matter, including early photographs, the Civil War, the .. Western surveys, railroad pictures and photography as art. Some of these sections are much better than others: There are impressive Western views by some well-known names, including Carleton E. Watkins, Charles Leander Weed, Eadweard Muybridge and William H. Jackson. But the few railroad photographs seem an arbitrary grouping -- these are really landscapes, in some of which it is difficult to make out where the railroad is.
The 20th-century part of the exhibit is dominated by soft-focus pictorialist works by Anne Brigman, Clarence H. White, Gertrude Kasebier, George Seeley and others. Many of the finest American photographers of more modernist sensibilities who were working well before the end of the first century (the history of photography is dated from 1839) will not be found here, among them Alfred Stieglitz, Man Ray, Walker Evans, Edward Weston, Paul Strand and Dorothea Lange.
But no collection can be exhaustive, and this one adds significantly to the National Museum's growing photography collection, which now numbers more than 3,300 images. The real disappointment of this enterprise is curator Merry A. Foresta's introduction to the catalog. Frustratingly discursive and vague, it begins by announcing that the show provides "a reconsideration of the medium as a powerful force in the development of American visual culture an opportunity to reconstitute the meaning of photography in nineteenth and early twentieth century America [and] an opportunity to reconsider and revitalize the way we look at photographs." But it never gets around to explaining all of that, or really any of it, in a clear and meaningful way. It was, perhaps, just too large an order for a 14-page essay.
What: "American Photographs: The First Century"
Where: The National Museum of American Art, Eighth and G streets N.W., Washington
When: 10 a.m. to 5: 30 p.m. daily (except Christmas Day), through April 20
Call: (202) 357-2700
Pub Date: 12/22/96