Colored views
DeCordova's hand-colored photographs
by Leon Nigrosh
NEW REALITIES: HAND-COLORED PHOTOGRAPHS, 1839 TO THE PRESENT At the
DeCordova Museum, 51 Sandy Pond Road, Lincoln, through May 25.
Throughout the 19th century, color tinting was employed in an attempt to make
photographs look more like the real world. Today, many photographers and
artists apply paint directly onto photo prints to escape realism and
create their own vision of reality.
Prior to Daguerre's introduction of his permanent image process in 1839,
personal portraiture was the province of only the wealthy. Through the use of
the daguerreotype as well as Talbot's new paper-negative process, just about
anyone could afford to have an accurate likeness made. The only drawback to
this early photographic method was that although the process recorded an
extremely accurate image, it could not reproduce color. Painters and colorists
immediately rose to the challenge, and hand-painted photographs soon became
quite the rage. Although color photography had been successfully developed in
1869, it was not until after World War II that the process became commercially
viable. Throughout the ensuing period, hand-painted photographs continued to
grow in popularity, including landscapes as well as portraits.
The DeCordova Museum has sheltered 12 examples of early photo portraits with
small velvet curtains. These pieces are hand-colored with crayon, pastel,
watercolor, or oil paint, providing an arresting introduction to this
fascinating photo odyssey, which includes a total of 78 photos. While most of
the images remain anonymous, there is a profile of a woman made in 1855 by the
famous Civil War photographer, Mathew Brady. Printed on paper and enhanced with
oils and watercolor painted by one of Brady's many well-paid female retouchers,
all of the subtle colorations remain remarkably intact.
Another section of the exhibit includes nearly a dozen examples of painted
American tintypes. This particular method of portraiture was well suited to the
taste and pocketbook of Americans from the mid-1800s right up to the 1940s.
More physically durable than paper prints and less expensive to produce, the
tin plate photos lent themselves well to overpainting -- by almost anyone. In
Tattersall Girl, except for the young girl's face, the entire plate has
been overpainted with oils -- and none too well. If we didn't realize that the
girl was seated, the flat pattern painted by the unknown amateur colorist makes
it appear that she is standing. (In retrospect, this image could be thought of
as an unwitting precursor to many of the contemporary images on view.)
Hollywood publicity stills, travelogue photogravures, photograms, and tinted
family photos from the '20s to the '60s lead us to the display of contemporary
photography with all of its bizarre appearance and novel experimentation. Two
differences from the earlier pictures are immediately apparent -- scale and
intent.
Freed from the constraints of sheet film or plate size, the vast majority of
recent works are enlargements which can be six feet or more. And the
contemporary artists are much less concerned with coloring an existing image,
than they are with creating an entirely new concept.
Bob Wade presents us with a transitional piece. He has airbrushcolored a
direct reproduction of a 1900s risqué French carte-postale with typical
pastel shading. The difference is that Wade's image is six feet tall. Works
like Judith Golden's Julia's Spiral Braid: Butterflies at Midnight
depart completely from mere colorizing to create singular images. In this
instance, the artist has enlarged a color photograph of a woman's profuse
hairbraid and painted a bird's nest with hungry baby chicks within.
While Jane Gottlieb and Robert Yarber take advantage of all the latest bells
and whistles of computerization to develop their striking surreal images, Lynn
Hershman relies on the simpler multiple negative technique to produce her
Freud/Monroe from her "Hero Sandwiches'' series. In this 2-by-3 foot
print, we see the ubiquitous smiling face of Marilyn with her luscious red
painted lips and liquid blue eyes. But where is the good doctor? It takes an
extra moment to discover that the piercing eyes are shared, that Freud is
topsy-turvy, and that the implications are all the more scary for it.
This exhibition is much more than a collection of interesting photographs.
While it traces the historical path of hand-colored photography from its
inception and accurately portrays its evolution, it also serves to stimulate
discussion of the future of both painting and photography. Will they continue
to co-exist as separate entities? Will the combination of the two, at last, be
recognized as a legitimate art form? Where will the computer fit into the mix?
And most important, how much further can artists take this technique to bring
their unique imaginations to reality? We can only wait with interest to see.
The DeCordova Museum is open Tuesday through Sunday from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Call (781) 259-8355.