_By _HENRY HOYT MOORE
We cannot claim for our art any outstanding phenomenon like the interest
in the radio that has swept the country this year, or any remarkable
development in the science of photography like the invention a few years
ago of the Lumière plate. The day may come when our exhibitions will show
masses of color on their walls which will make the water-colorists and the
miniaturists green with envy, but that day is not yet. And I for one
would be sorry to see it come. There is to me a charm about good monotone
photography that is all its own and that puts it on a plane with etching,
engraving, lithography, and other monotone processes. Of course some
artists, strictly so called, object to regarding photography as anything
but a mechanical process, but the number of those who would make art a
close corporation is happily diminishing.
In fact, the recognition that photography is receiving from accredited
representatives of the fine arts makes its position no longer a doubtful
one. Any of the arts may be used for commercial purposes, but that fact
does not take away from them their rightful place when they are used by
competent hands for aesthetic purposes. The increasing number of museums
that are opening their exhibition halls to good photography is an evidence
that is obvious to all observers. Caustic critics like Joseph Pennell may
decry photography, but many able artists and critics, attending
exhibitions of photography that are being held in many of our centers of
art, are having their eyes opened to the beauty of lens work in the hands
of men and women who use the camera with feeling and insight. Then, too,
we must not forget the fact that some well-known artists, beginning with
D. O. Hill and continuing with Mrs. Kasebier, Frank Eugene, Steichen, and
others, have found in the practice of photography a more lasting fame than
in any other line of their effort.
Among notable exhibitions of the past year several should be mentioned. Of
course there are what might be called the historic exhibitions that have
won an established place, like the London Salon, the Royal Photographic
Exhibition, the Pittsburgh Salon, the Los Angeles Salon, the Portland
Exhibition, and others. More recently established exhibitions that are to
be noted are those of the San Francisco Pictorialists, the Oakland Salon,
the Canadian National at Toronto, the Buffalo Salon, and that of the
Pictorial Photographers of America at the opening of the Art Center in New
York City. At many of these exhibitions pictures from the same exhibitors
were hung, and as the judges at practically all of them were different men
(and women), including professional artists, it is evident that there was
a consensus among the competent critics that these exhibitors at least are
doing worthy work. But in that fact there is no cause for discouragement
to the novice, for new names are to be found in the catalogues of all the
exhibitions, and there is no league to keep out any individual’s pictures
anywhere. That is one of the triumphs of our art—that, while judges may
sometimes err and exclude a good picture or select a poor one, there is a
general open-mindedness in recognizing merit wherever it exists. A
well-known worker is pretty sure to have his photographs declined by the
judges in most of the photographic exhibitions if he falls below his
standard, and, on the other hand, a gifted beginner will quickly get a
place in the seats of the mighty if he can produce the photographs that
entitle him to distinction.
Some notable one-man exhibitions have been held since our last Annual was
published. Among them should be mentioned those of the veterans Alfred
Stieglitz and Rudolph Eickemeyer in the Anderson Galleries in New York—and
it is a significant testimony to the lure of our art that these masters of
it have “come back”; those of Dr. H. B. Goodwin, of Stockholm, at the
Brown-Robertson Gallery, and E. O. Hoppe, of England, at Wanamaker’s, in
New York; that of Clarence H. White, of New York, at the Art Center; the
joint exhibition of prints of W. E. Macnaughtan and William A. Alcock, of
Brooklyn, at the New York Camera Club, and of F. J. Mortimer and Alexander
Keighley of England at the same place; and by Mrs. Antoinette B. Hervey,
Miss Sophie Lauffer, Nicholas Muray, and F. O. Libby, with numerous
others, that show the popularity of this method of placing good work
before the public. Such exhibitions should be encouraged, for not only do
they stimulate the exhibitor to show worthy work, but they are in the
nature of spurs to the activity of every serious worker who has the
privilege of seeing them.
As to processes that are in favor, the bromoil and the bromoil transfer
still continue to attract a host of workers. European workers seem still
to have access to better and cheaper materials for this work than we in
America, as is evidenced by the number and quality of the prints that are
produced in the Scandinavian countries and in Germany, where bromoil work
has even acquired a commercial status among professional photographers.
The question is sometimes raised whether the general public who attend
photographic exhibitions are interested in processes as such. I think the
question must be answered in the negative. It is the general effect that
interests the outsider, and he cares not whether the print is a gum, a
bromoil, a bromide, a platinum, or a palladiotype. We must beware lest we
get enamored of a process rather than the result. I say this with no
disrespect to the bromoilists, many of whom are gifted workers and endowed
with art feeling. But we must remember that we are working to popularize
photography as an art as well as to demonstrate our own artistic feeling
and technical skill, and we ought not to lay too great stress on a
difficult branch of our work, to the discouragement of those who would
seek to share the delights of a beautiful recreation. The problem must be
left to each individual. The beauty of a bromoil print, for instance, is
supreme to its devotee: is its superiority to other processes worth the
time and the toil necessary to make it, which might be devoted to the
study of composition, of a wider range of subject, or to the mastery of
simpler processes? Picture construction and print quality are after all
the main things in photography, not the medium we use.
There is no royal road to distinction in photography, but each year sees
some helps devised for the earnest worker, whether amateur or
professional. For the amateur there is now an increasing variety of
cameras and photographic material. New cameras are coming from abroad,
among them a small French moving-picture machine, the “Sept,” which can be
carried in the hand and with which, it is claimed, good “stills” may be
taken as well as good regulation movie pictures. An auto-focus enlarger,
at a comparatively small price, has also been put on the market for
amateur use; and with the increasing use of small cameras and the adoption
of simpler methods this may prove a boon to those who wish to make bromide
enlargements more easily than they could by the older methods. It is to
be regretted that platinum paper is not being manufactured in America for
photographic purposes, for the quality of a choice platinum print is still
regarded by many as unsurpassed, and many workers wish to see platinum
resume its old place among the photographer’s resources. Many “spotlight”
machines and artificial illuminating devices have been put on the market,
and with these the photographer will be equipped to play on his sitters
the “light that never was on sea or land,” if he so desires. But the
ingenious photographer who is quick to seize good lighting effects will
not need the aid of artificial lighting, anymore than did the early master
of photography, D. O. Hill, whose simple effects reached almost the
finality of lens art.
Just here I might add a word as to the increasing coalescence of the
amateur and the professional photographer in America. Strictly speaking,
an amateur may be said to be one who gets no return in money for his work,
while the professional’s work is mainly financial in its object. The
amateur photographer, however, finds his expenses heavy and the temptation
strong to sell his pictures; while in America the professional
photographer is frequently so much in love with the pictorial
possibilities of his work that he loses sight of the financial end of it.
For the worker to get the real enthusiasm and benefit from photography,
the thing now necessary to mark a distinct note of progress, or to make an
outstanding year, is to have a great international exhibition, similar to
the one held in Buffalo in 1910. This, I am glad to say, is already
planned for next year, to be held in New York City, which, although the
great center of activity, has never had an exhibition of this kind.