Our illustration, “Folwell’s Washington,” is a profile of the one person
characterized in our nation’s history as the “First in war, the first in
peace, and the first in the hearts of his countrymen.” Our object in
presenting this frontispiece to our readers for the current month is a
two-fold one;--first, in view of the Eleventh Annual Convention of the
Photographic Association of America, which is to be held in Washington,
August 12–15. The subject is a particularly appropriate one.
The original portrait was painted by Folwell, in 1795, while General
Washington was in the presidential chair, for Col. William Washington, a
kinsman of the General, and who in the year 1800, but a short time after
the General’s death, presented the portrait to James Henry Stevens.
The following endorsement is written on the back of the picture: “Done
1795,--Presented to--James Henry Stevens, Esqr.,--by his friend
Col.--Wm. Washington, Sept.-–9th, 1800–-Said to be a--Correct likeness
from life of--His Excellency Gen’l--George Washington-–1st President
of--the United--States of America.”
The original is now in the possession of the Historical Society of
Pennsylvania, and is classed among what are known as “rare Washington
portraits.” In Mr. Wm. S. Baker’s list we find on page 109 the following
notice regarding the portrait and the painter. “Samuel Folwell, 1795,
miniature painter, of whom little is known, was practicing his art in
Philadelphia, the latter part of last, and the beginning of the present
century. The profile of Washington in possession of the Historical
Society of Pennsylvania, inscribed ‘S. Folwell, Pinxt, 1795,’ is said to
have been taken upon a public occasion, the President being unaware of
the fact. It is drawn on paper and solidly painted in India ink, with
certain lights touched in, and as declared at the time is ‘certainly a
most spirited and correct likeness.’ There is no engraving of this
profile.”
In addition to this portrait by Folwell, there are in existence two
regular silhouettes of Washington. One was taken by Samuel Powell, an
ex-mayor of Philadelphia, by tracing on the wall a shadow thrown by an
Argand lamp, which had just then been invented. This picture is now in
the possession of the Massachusetts Historical Society. The other, a
psaligraph, or silhouette cut with the scissors, by a Miss De Hart, of
Elizabethtown, N. J., in 1783.
It will be noticed that the portrait belongs to the more advanced type
of its class; viz.: where an attempt is made to introduce detail by the
use of the brush.
Our other reason for reproducing this portrait is owing to the fact that
the solid profile has of late again attracted considerable attention in
photographic circles of Europe, and strange to say much difficulty seems
to have been experienced in obtaining desirable results. As simple as
the production of a solid profile seems to be (and is to us in
America)--if we may credit our European exchanges--just so difficult has
the process proved to some of the camera artists beyond the sea, as will
be seen from the accounts here given.
On account of the extreme plainness and simplicity of the old
silhouettes, we are too apt to pass them by as productions of but little
or no artistic merit or value, overlooking the fact that the plain
outline contour, in centuries past, was the germ from which emanated the
arts of bas-relief and portraiture, the latter passing through all the
various stages from the plain outline of the finished miniature, and
these in their turn to be supplanted by photography of the present day.
There are two traditions which have come down to us from the dim ages
past relating to this subject. One informs us that it occurred to an old
Greek to follow the contour of a friend’s shadow with a piece of coal as
it fell upon the white marble wall of the temple, thus permanently
securing the outline of his friend’s features; from this incident is
said to date the Greek School of Painting. Arkides, of Corinth, and
Telephanes, of Sikyon, improved the process by filling out the space
between the lines with a piece of coal or ruddle (an argillaceous iron
ore), from thence the transition to pigments was an easy and natural
one.
The other tradition, a still more pleasant one, would have us believe
that about twenty-five hundred years ago there lived in same city of
Sikyon, in Greece, a modeller in clay by the name of Dibutades. He had a
daughter Kora; he also had a young apprentice. As usual in these old
tales, both were young and fair, and in the course of events vows of
betrothal were exchanged. Shortly afterwards, as the pair sat together,
Kora suddenly seized a piece of coal from the brazier, and asking her
betrothed to remain still, she traced upon the wall the outlines of the
face which was so dear to her. It was an inspiration on the part of the
Greek maiden, and so correct was the likeness that when old Dibutades
saw it he recognized it at once, and thinking to please his daughter, he
filled in the portrait with clay; the result was a bas-relief, the first
that was ever made.
As crude as the silhouette appears, it certainly was the best process,
prior to the advent of photography, to reproduce the features of
persons; this applies, however, more to such as had a marked or
prominent profile, the result almost always being a recognizable
portrait, while in subjects with soft harmonic lines, especially female
faces, the identification of the original by means of the silhouette, or
profile, was more or less difficult. Yet there was a time, we will say
in the century preceding the perfecture of Daguerre’s invention, when
the silhouette was popular and common as the carte or cabinet photo of
the present day.
It was about the middle of last century when the rage for profiles broke
out in France. It is said the style was introduced by the Pompadour,
then at the zenith of her power. Be that as it may, it struck the
popular fancy, as it was a branch of portraiture which came within the
reach of all classes. Paris was soon flooded with profile artists, and
the black profiles became known as “à la Pompadour.” With the decline of
her power, and the appointment of one Etienne de Silhouette as Minister
of Finance, who on account of a system of retrenchment inaugurated by
him had become an object of derision with the court favorites and the
populace, a reaction set in; and so great a butt had the Minister become
with the populace, that everything that savored of retrenchment, or was
cheap, poor, or shopworn, was “à la Silhouette.” Our profiles, on
account of their inexpensiveness, came under the same category, and
strange to say thus immortalized, for all time to come, the name of the
honest Minister of Finance.
Towards the end of the last century the art of profile painting reached
its highest development, of which our example is a good specimen. In our
own country, the demand for these pictures was so great that a special
machine was invented for the purpose of producing correct outlines in
miniature. This apparatus was one of the features of Peale’s Museum,
then in Independence Hall. The process was first to outline the shadow,
then the machine was brought into play; this consisted of a tracer,
which moved on a universal joint on the standard, the respective ends
being adjustable as to length, so as to suit the required relative
proportion between the shadow and the miniature copy. In using, one end
of the tracer was caused to follow the line of the profile, while the
other marked upon the paper which was presented in a frame. The paper
was then removed, and the portrait cut out by the scissors. The
silhouette portrait also came into vogue for book illustrations, and
specimens from copperplates are frequently found in old volumes.
Towards the close of the last century the silhouette for a time was
superseded by pastel portraits. However, it was not long before the art
was again in favor, and practiced by numerous artists. The brush, which
had heretofore been almost exclusively used, was now supplemented by the
knife or scissors, resulting in the art of “Psaligraphy,” in which the
portrait was either cut out of glossy black paper and then pasted on a
white card, or the reverse, where the outline was cut with a knife from
a sheet of white paper and then backed with a piece of silk, thus
showing a black profile on a white ground. Specimens of the latter
process are very rare, as it required an artist of no mean order for
their execution.
Owing to the popularity of the silhouette it soon became elevated to the
rank of meritorious art. Noteworthy among the exponents of this school
we will mention the late Paul Konewka, Ströhl, and others, who produced
effects of a surprising degree of naturalness in solid black. Half a
century ago silhouettes of prominent persons, actors, danseuses,
soldiers, orators, etc., were as common an article of commerce as the
photograph of a professional beauty is at the present day.
The advent of photography eventually proved the death blow to the
silhouette, as a picture with all the detail and expression was far
preferable to the simple profile. Yet at first, in many cases, on
account of poor posing or defective lighting, the photograph showed less
similarity to the sitter than the well-executed silhouette. At the
present day, with the great advances in the photographic art, all
necessity for the silhouette has ceased to exist, nor is there any
special reason why that style of portraiture should be made by use of
the camera, except as a pastime. Yet, strange to say, this subject has
excited so much attention in Europe that it was made the special order
of business at the April meeting of the Photographische Gesellschaft, in
Vienna, where Herr Eisele, a prominent member, stated that he had
experimented for the last two years in producing photographic
silhouettes. Professor Luckhart and the artist Herr Schuer had also
devoted much time to the subject without, however, succeeding as well as
the first speaker.
The details of Herr Eisele’s experiments certainly make interesting
reading for us on this side of the water. He states that at first he
covered a frame with tracing paper, then placed his principal between
the sun and the screen, thus throwing a shadow on the paper. The
camera was set up on the other side, so as to photograph this shadow,
the lens, of course, pointed direct to the sun. He then made the
attempt to shade the lens with an umbrella. He neglects to state how
often he got the outline of the parapluie on his plate. Then he tried
Blitz-pulver--sitter, camera, and screen in same position. Result as
might have been foretold--a miserable failure.
Next the screen was placed in a doorway with a bright light back of the
screen. The subject was placed in front of the screen, the room
darkened, the camera being placed in front of the sitter and screen. A
Blitz-lamp exposure of five to six seconds was then made. Result--not a
single specimen that equals our old silhouette. So much for our Viennese
photographic cousins. In these great United States we simply tack a
piece of muslin in front of a window, place the subject directly in
front, shut off all other light in the room, focus, fire, and develop.
Result--a good sharp profile almost all the time.