not possess one, he need not despair of producing good work. A rapid
rectilinear lens used at a large aperture will answer the purpose
well; it should always be used at full aperture, partly for the sake
of quickness in exposure, and partly to prevent accessories and
parts of the dress appearing too sharp and competing in importance
with the face. Subordination of parts is one of the essentials of a
picture; and if we examine a _good_ portrait we shall find that
probably no part of the photograph is quite sharp except the eyes
and face. Otherwise the less important details are apt to obtrude
themselves on our notice. A stop will generally be necessary,
however, with a portrait lens if a full or three-quarter length is
to be taken, and it will be found that heads only (as a rule) can be
taken at full aperture. Just as good work, however, can be done with
a rapid rectilinear as with a lens specially made for portraits,
except where rapid exposures are to be made; but it is necessary to
use one of fairly long focus. A rapid rectilinear lens used for
landscape work on a half plate would be much too short in focus for
giving good portraits on the same sized plate, for in order to get
the figure large enough it is necessary to place the camera so near
the sitter as to produce distortion. For portraits on a half plate a
lens of at least nine inches focus should be used and for a whole
plate not less than sixteen or eighteen inches, and longer if
possible.
The swing back of the camera will be found useful in portrait work
for getting parts of the figures into focus that are either too far
behind or too far in front of the plane of the face. For instance, a
full-length figure leaning back in a chair will have the feet out of
focus when the face is sharp if the back of the camera is vertical,
and this applies with even greater force to groups. A side swing too
is useful, but is not absolutely necessary. Even in bust portraits
the swing back is useful in getting the shoulders in focus when
using a large aperture, for although it is well not to have the
whole of the figure in _perfect_ focus all over, it is not advisable
to have the face sharp and the rest so out of focus as to be
blurred.
The development of a portrait plate should be different from that of
a landscape, because a different kind of negative is required. A
rapid plate developed so as to give a soft delicate image is best;
and a developer containing more alkali and less density giver is
good, and it may be considerably diluted with advantage. The image
should appear within ten seconds of pouring on the developer, and
the negative will generally be developed to sufficient density in
from two to three minutes. With a good average rapid plate the image
should show fairly well on the back of the plate, but this and the
time of development will vary so much with different developers, and
with the taste of each photographer that no hard and fast rule can
be laid down.
Developers that give a brown deposit, or that stain the film will
require shorter development than those of the newer developing
agents that give a cold black colour to the negative; another fact
to be borne in mind is that the image formed by these latter appears
to lose more density in fixing than when pyrogallic acid is used.
A perfect portrait negative should have no clear glass shadows, and
no part should be so dense as to give white in the finished print,
and some negatives which give the best results may have a decided
veiled appearance in the shadows.
The temperature of the developer is another important point; in very
cold weather the developer should be kept warm, or if in
concentrated solutions may be diluted with warm water. In cases of
known under-exposure the developer may be used quite hot with
advantage. A convincing experiment can be made by cutting an exposed
plate in two and developing one half with icy cold developer and the
other half with warm. The difference is really remarkable. If the
developer has been used hot enough to make the gelatine of the plate
feel "slimy" an alum bath is necessary, unless the fixing bath
contains chrome alum.
METOL.
1.
Water 100 parts or 10 ozs.
Metol 1 part or 50 grains
Sodium sulphite 10 parts or 1 oz.
2.
Water 100 parts or 10 ozs.
Potassium carbonate 10 parts or 1 oz.
3.
Potassium bromide 1 part or 1 oz.
Water 10 parts or 10 ozs.
For normal exposures take 3 parts No. 1 and 1 part No. 2; to each
ounce of mixed developer add 40 minims of No. 3.
PYRO AND SODA.
1.
Pyro 1 oz.
Water 70 ozs.
Nitric acid 12 drops
2.
Sodium sulphite 10 ozs.
Sodium carbonate (pure) 8 ozs.
Water 70 ozs.
Equal parts of each, for soft negatives dilute with water. To
restrain for over-exposure use potassium, not ammonium bromide.
Unless an acid fixing bath is used the negatives are rather green in
colour.
RODINAL AND HYDROKINONE.
A.
Sodium sulphite 1 oz.
Water 20 ozs.
Citric acid 1 crystal
Potassium bromide 1 dram
Hydrokinone 2 drams
B.
Potassium carbonate 2 ozs.
Water 20 ozs.
Rodinal 1 fluid oz.
Use 1 part A, 1 part B, and 1 part of water.
The question of retouching is a difficult one. There is no doubt
that a certain amount of it is necessary on nearly all portrait
negatives and even on those of children. But it is equally certain
that the great majority of portrait negatives are over-retouched, so
much so that their value both as portraits and pictures is nearly
destroyed. Yet a certain amount is necessary even for pictorial
effect, and perhaps still more when the question of likeness is
considered. For as a rule the untouched negative is no more a true
likeness than the over-retouched one. The truth lies somewhere
between the two. Even if isochromatic plates are used the little
differences of colour in the face, and the incipient wrinkles are
exaggerated in an unpleasant way. Under-exposed negatives will show
these defects in a very marked manner, full exposure will greatly
reduce them. Large heavy patches of shadow may be lightened by
coating the back of the negative with matt varnish, and when it is
quite hard "hatching" upon it with a soft lead. Harsh lights may be
reduced by scraping away the matt varnish with the point of a knife.
In some cases the matt varnish may be stained with a little aurine
or uranine. Exaggerated lines and small shadows must be worked upon
from the front and a retouching desk is necessary. The film of the
negative will not take the pencil without some preparation. The best
surface is obtained by spreading a little retouching medium with the
tip of the finger on the part to be touched. A thin film of soft
resin is left upon the plate which takes pencil marks readily. A
hard lead, No. 4 Faber or Hardtmuth, should be used. The loose leads
used in what are called the "ever-pointed holders" are most
convenient. The point must be very long and fine, like a large
darning needle, and is best made by rubbing the lead on a piece of
fine glass-paper. The pencil must be held very lightly and the lines
touched away with short _light_ strokes, a heavy stroke only rubs
the medium up.
The little shadow at the end of the mouth often has to be reduced,
often at the risk of spoiling the shape of the lips, but sitters
_will_ insist upon it being done, and say "You have made my mouth
much too large." Freckled faces are perhaps the most difficult to
retouch, as it is well nigh impossible to remove the black patches
caused by the freckles without at the same time destroying the
modelling of the face. Yet it must be done, for probably the most
severe stickler for truth would not insist on the black blotches
that freckles produce in a photograph.
A great deal can be done to improve a hard negative as soon as it
leaves the fixing bath, by applying a mixture of hypo solution and a
solution of ferricyanide (not ferro) of potash with a piece of cotton
wool to the dense parts. The proportions for this reducing bath are
as follows:--To each ounce of the ordinary hyposulphite of soda
fixing bath add a few drops of a 10% solution of ferricyanide of
potassium or red prussiate of potash, making the whole about the
colour of pale brandy. By adding more of the ferricyanide solution
the reducing action is quicker, but there is a greater liability to
stain the film. The work should be done over a sink with a tap of
running water at hand. The solution should be of a deep lemon colour
(it is almost impossible to give exact quantities), and after a short
application must be washed off under the tap, and the negative may
then be examined, and the reducer applied again and again till the
desired reduction is obtained. It is advisable to make a few trials
on spoilt plates. For if any really good work is to be done there
will be plenty of rejected negatives. Probably, of all the plates
exposed on portraits by first-rate professional photographers, not
more than one-fourth ever get as far as the printing-frame.
Moral: Do not be chary of exposing plates, they are cheap enough
now. Don't feel, "Oh! this will be good enough. I won't do another."
On the other hand don't expose carelessly and recklessly and say,
"It will all come right in developing." Good work is not done that
way. Use every opportunity of seeing good work. Study the work of
great portrait painters, but don't neglect the photographers. Go to
all the exhibitions of pictures and photographs within reach.
Don't be satisfied with what you have done, but make a resolve to do
something better next time. Remember, what is worth doing at all is
worth doing well.
_Harold Baker._
[Illustration: Off Boulogne. By A. Horsley Hinton.]
_Pictorial Photography._
[Illustration]
Unlike the subjects of the other articles in this book, in pictorial
photography we are not brought to consider one of the many processes
which go to make up the photographic craft, but merely a special and
exceptional application of any and all means known to the
photographer.
The particular end to which this application is made will be
explained as far as the limits of space will permit, and some of the
methods of such application will be described. Beyond this I have no
intention of going. I do not present pictorial photography as a
branch of photography especially worthy of study--I am not concerned
in making converts. It is for the photographer who has already
formed a desire to give his attention to the pictorial side of
photography and who is seeking help, that this chapter is designed.
First let us come to a mutual understanding as to the term Pictorial
Photography. Picture-making by photography would perhaps be a
simpler phrase, but that to my mind the word "picture-making" is too
similar in idea to boot-making, lace-making, etc., all of which
imply a mechanical manufacturing, whereas a picture--a real
picture--like a musical composition, a poem or a beautiful thought,
grows or is evolved rather than made to order.
Art photography would be a better term, but that in photography the
word "art" has been so often coupled with things the very antithesis
of artistic and might hence be misleading, moreover the photographer
will show discretion rather than weakness if he be not too hasty to
claim for photography a position among the arts, and whilst its
claims to that dignity remain as yet in dispute, we may be content
with "Pictorial Photography" as a less assuming title, yet one which
will sufficiently differentiate between what we may call the
ordinary photographic production and---- Well, what?
That is the first thing I have to try and explain.
Look at the illustrations in this book on pages 72, 136, and 120,
and, making due allowance for some loss of quality due to
reproduction by a "half-tone" block, try to imagine what the
originals were like. Then say if they please you. If you say no, you
do not care for them, they do not appeal to you, you do not mind if
you never saw anything of the kind again from this day henceforth;
very well, doubtless there are other things in the world in which
you can find pleasure, but so far as my present subject is
concerned, here you and I part company. These illustrations are more
or less successful reproductions of pictorial work, and if you do
not like them, making as I have said due allowance for their being
reproduced and reduced, then it is certain you do not want to hear
anything about them, and it is not my intention to persuade you, so
please pass on and make room for those who do care for these things
and wish to learn all they can concerning them, or at most stand
aside and peradventure some stray word dropped unintentionally may
quicken your interest and discover in you a sympathy of which you
were previously unconscious.
[Illustration: MISS LILY HANBURY--A PORTRAIT. HAROLD BAKER.]
Referring now again to the illustrations which in the absence of
anything else we take as fairly typical of pictorial photographs and
assuming that one or the other, if not all, do please some of my
readers, I will ask them to endeavour to analyse their feelings when
confronting such productions.
Take now an ordinary commercial photographic view such as one may
purchase from any sea-side stationer, and compare the sensations
awakened by each. In the case of the topographical view we feel some
satisfaction at being able to recognise a familiar spot, or the view
reminds us of some other place, or it may be quaint buildings, or
rugged mountains, or miles of foliage, or what not inspire curiosity
or interest because we know the photograph to be a true record of
facts, that is to say we accept the photograph in lieu of the actual
presence of the objects represented, and experience nearly the same
feelings as we should were we to visit the spot represented. We know
that the wonderful, curious, or unusual things portrayed have an
existence, otherwise we could not have a photograph of them.
In all such cases our interest and value of the photograph would
vastly diminish, were it possible for a photograph of this kind to
be made simply by the photographer's hand and imagination without
any original at all.
You look at a photograph of this or that sea-side place and remark,
"Ah, yes, that's dear old Yarmouth, many a time, etc., etc.," or
else, "Dear me, I wonder what place that is, it's so like----" such
and such a town, or it may be you enquire "Where's that?" and you
express or think to yourself you would like to go and visit the
spot. These and kindred sensations are those kindled by the average
photograph, but there is yet another, for you may be impelled to
exclaim, "How wonderfully clear and bright that photograph is,"
"What a good photograph." In this case you are interested purely in
the execution as an example of clever manipulation and skilful
craftsmanship.
Now, compare such feelings as these with those stirred by an example
of good pictorial work. In the first place your esteem for it, if
you value it at all, is quite as great whether you know the place
where it was made or not. If it pleases you, that pleasure is not
dependent upon the fact that it does represent some place. In the
case of paintings and drawings as often as not they do not pretend
to represent any place at all, but are pure fiction, yet we do not
value them the less. To what then is the pleasure we feel when
looking at a good picture due? Is it not that a picture stirs up,
that is, _creates_ pleasant or beautiful thoughts and ideas--by
pleasant I do not mean necessarily merry or joyous ones, for some
hearts feel profounder pleasure in the grandeur of storm or the
majesty of the mountain than in the sweet wilderness of flowery
wastes, but notice that such beautiful ideas are _created_ by the
picture. You were thinking of something totally different before you
came upon the landscape picture which instantly made you feel the
glowing light, the stirring breeze, and hear the rustling corn and
noisy brook, and yet it cannot be said it is because we _recognise_
these things in the picture that we receive these impressions, at
least it is not the kind of recognition which takes place when we
see a photograph of Brighton Pier or Haddon Hall.
Notice, it is not the exact and faithful portrayal of objects that
creates the emotions instanced, for if you closely observe the
manner in which a good painting is done you will find that rude
splashes of paint, broad brush strokes, and the like stand for
foliage or water, or corn stalks as the case may be, when we know
that had the painter desired he _could_ have produced his likeness
of nature with a good deal more of the precise detail and fidelity
to outlines which photography excels in, _had he wished_. But if the
painter or other pictorial artist needs not to trouble about
accuracy to details to secure the effect aimed at he must be
faithful to general facts. There is a great difference between not
recognising things or having no particular wish to do so, and
feeling conscious that a portrayal is so utterly unlike anything in
our past experience of nature that we should not recognise the
objects even if we _were_ acquainted with them. To take an extreme
case--our enjoyment of the effect and sentiment of a beautiful
landscape picture is not enhanced by our being able to recognise
whether the trees are oaks or elms, but it would be distinctly
disturbed if the palm trees were represented as growing on the
slopes of a Welsh mountain. Innumerable examples and instances might
be given to show that the artist, whatsoever his medium, be it
colour or monochrome, may depart from truth, or may be indifferent
to precise details, _only so far as he avoids palpable untruth_.
Why is this?
When we look at a powerful and impressive picture we feel at once
the sentiment, our emotions are at once stirred, subsequently we
recognise objects and facts portrayed, but only when we begin to
look for them or think about them; but a gross exaggeration or a
very obvious error strikes us at once before we begin to receive
sentiments and ideas, and that error or exaggeration once seen is
never lost sight of, and whole enjoyment of the picture is
hopelessly marred.
Now, from the foregoing (for want of space I am aware that the
argument is incomplete, and must therefore ask the student to think
the matter out and grasp the side issues by reading between the
lines) we may formulate the broad definition that a picture does not
depend for its excellence on the faithful representation of objects,
and is not chiefly valuable on account of our immediate recognition
of things portrayed, yet on the other hand it must not let us feel
that there is obvious inaccuracy.
Here then we have two opposite positions in both of which the mere
objects employed to build up the picture are subordinated to the
effect or impression of the picture. In one case the spectator must
not be allowed to feel that the representation is _wrong_, in the
other success will not directly depend on the representation being
very _right_, neither startling rightness or truth nor the obvious
wrongness or untruth should thrust the objects composing the picture
upon the beholder's attention, he should be left free to receive the
expression or sentiment of it.
I hope the reader is following me in this line of thought closely. I
am aware that it may seem dry and uninteresting, but I see no other
way of placing the student in a proper position at the outset than
by explaining the essential elements of pictorial work, and I will
make this introductory part as brief as possible.
Reverting now to our argument, I have in other words suggested that
obvious violation of truth will prevent the sentiment or effect of
the picture from being paramount, and now I will submit that an
excess of accuracy to detail is equally detrimental to the success
of a picture as a picture.
If by now the reader is prepared to admit that the chief purpose of
a picture is the feelings, emotions, ideas which it suggests or
creates, and not the facts it portrays, he will be able to go
further and perceive that in a landscape, for instance, cottages,
trees, or what not are introduced, not for their own intrinsic
interest but as vehicles of light and shade, which go to express the
picture's sentiments.
If we stand before a good picture with closed eyes and suddenly open
them, our first impression (precluding any question of colour) is
that of masses of light and shade pleasingly and harmoniously
arranged; if we retreat to such a distance that the objects
constituting those lights and shades are unrecognisable the balance
and pleasing arrangement should still be felt, and our æsthetic
sense is satisfied, although we do not see fully of what the picture
is composed. This is the quality which is termed breadth and which
is admittedly of very great value.
If on the other hand the shadow masses are filled with innumerable
details, and are thus broken up into tiny lights and shadows they no
longer exist as broad masses of dark, but if before retreating as
proposed from the picture, the lights or shadows appear so blank as
to prompt particular investigation, and upon examination we find
detail absent which we know must have been present, then we
encounter an instance of untruth and exaggeration which is obvious
and which disturbs our appreciation of other fine qualities. Thus we
require _sufficient detail to avoid giving the idea that detail is
left out_.
The delineation of sharp outlines and redundance of detail is not
wrong in itself, but it is usually inexpedient when considered with
respect to the effect to be produced, similarly the suppression of
sharp focus both as regards outlines and details has no artistic
merit of itself except as it assists the picture to impress the
beholder first with the general effect.
The painter and photographer start from two opposite standpoints.
The painter, or draughtsman, starts with nothing but blank paper,
and having built up his picture and produced his desired effect he
elaborates no further; the photographer with his more or less
mechanically produced _facsimile_ starts from the opposite extreme
with a transcendentally elaborate image, from which he will require
to eliminate all such excess of truth as is likely to force the mere
facts of the view upon the beholder's attention.
Photography, so faultlessly complete in its delineation, gives us
_more than the pictorial worker needs for the expression of an
idea_, and this is why I would remind the student that pictorial
photography is not photography in the full sense of the word, but
the application of some of its powers, just as much as we need and
no more, to a definite end.
As just hinted the purpose of a picture is to express ideas, hence I
will fall back on a kind of definition which I have used on a
previous occasion that a picture is the portrayal of visible
concrete things for the expression of abstract ideas.
To give an example by way of exposition we may look upon a picture
and be made to feel by it the calm and luminous atmosphere of
evening; we feel at once the restfulness, and almost feel the warmth
of the humid air, giving place to the chill gathering mists of
night; but the same objects, the same tangible materials, paper,
pigment, metallic salts, etc., in another picture give us the sense
of angry turbulent storm or perhaps bright joyous sunshine
frolicking with the fresh breezes on the hill-tops. These are
abstract ideas expressed or created by the manner in which concrete
things, commonplace facts, are portrayed and rendered.
Finally, let me enunciate that a very excellent photograph may not
necessarily be a good picture, because it may contain more than is
required for the expression of its idea, and the surplus will
overwhelm it; again, a good pictorial photograph may be but a poor
photograph, because if we claim the right to apply photographic
means to pictorial ends, we may find it convenient to leave out the
very qualities which the scientific or technical expert considers
most precious.
And now I think we may proceed to more practical matters.
COMPOSITION AND SELECTION.
In all matters from which the eye expects to derive pleasure,
symmetry of design seems essential. In the formation of the letters
that we write, in personal attire, in the decoration of our homes,
in buildings, and practically in everything which is not of a purely
utilitarian character, a sense of proportion and a symmetrical
disposition of parts is observed. Hence it is no source of surprise
that in a picture which as much as anything should aim at pleasing
the eye, design, otherwise Composition, is with Expression a
co-essential.