Floating World

Just because I like the image.

And lily pads. And reflections.

Photograph by Claude Vosburg, Ellake, Michigan, 1911.

Swept Away

Family Portrait

Framed group of photo portraits, as found.

American Gothic - Vinyl Pillow

I'm unsure why someone would choose to preserve their family photo portrait on a vinyl pillow. Or why she had her hair done and he donned his Sunday suit, then were lighted as subtly as in an interrogation cell for the picture. But they did.

Unsigned, unfortunately.

Exposed

Keeping a blog, and reading those of others, is interesting both for what is revealed and what is concealed. I suppose that we're all practicing some form of self-portraiture. Thinking about that today reminded me of a real photo postcard in my collection that has a single scrawled word on it, "Me." I bought it for two reasons: first, for that lonely, concise and assertive inscription, and second, because it's a portrait of the photographer himself, who, for once, has stepped around in front of the camera. Leaning against his leg is a large case, and against it, a film holder with the word Exposed clearly visible.

The Wonderful World of Color

While there's something to be said for accurate rendition of color, I'm not here to say it. Nope, today I come to sing the praises of extravagant, preposterous color, especially that seen in hand-colored and tinted photographs. Sometimes the artist/photographer seems to have intended to achieve something realistic; other times they're just making an image that pops.

Did you notice that both these images have the same background?

Happy Valentine's Day

"bowlegged mamma all way from yumyummer."

Unmailed real photo postcard, c. 1925.

Rabbits Against Snow

This image is from a real photo postcard, and was taken on today's date 98 years ago. The contrast of black rabbits against the snowy landscape is lovely, I think. It's somewhat reminiscent of the work of the contemporary photographer Masao Yamamoto.

However, there's something else going on here besides just being visually compelling. The rabbits are running, ears alert, agitated. Scratched into the negative is "Rabbit Drive 2/5/11, Near Lakeview Ore, 1811 Rabbits Killed in Pen."

The Nevada-California-Oregon Railroad, in an attempt to develop the land that its railroad served, hired a Russian man who relocated 25 Russian families to this outlying area. Rabbit drives became a regular winter occupation, with whole carloads of meat being shipped to a tamale factory in San Francisco. The enterprise gradually failed.

The postcard was mailed to someone, and the message on the back is about renting a saddle, making no mention of the photograph or the event.

All Torn Up

Among my favorite vernacular photo images is a group of worn and defaced photos that were then reassembled. These were found together in a small album, with notes indicating they were all from a small town in southwestern Virginia. They look almost like stamp-size photobooth images, torn up and then pasted down on cardstock. With them was a photo of a young man on a donkey with a tripod, and I've always thought he was the (itinerant) photographer and the maker of the assemblages.

The last one, from another source, is a cheap tin cigarette case with six half-tone pictures of, I assume, the owner. He added a little flair with the red paint at the edge.