Sunday, 6 April 2008

My Town Monday - Part 7

In this age of technology when any scene can be digitally reproduced at the press of a button on our mobile phones, it's easy to forget photography's beginnings and the evolution of the process that brought us to this point.

Many names have been associated with the invention of photography but, generally, just three names come to the fore: Louis Daguerre, William Henry Fox Talbot and George Eastman of Kodak fame.

One name that certainly won't spring to mind is Frederick Scott Archer, born the son of a Bishop's Stortford butcher in 1813 and, arguably, the man responsible for bringing photography to the masses.



He was orphaned at an early age and brought up by distant relatives and friends. As a boy he was apprenticed to a bullion dealer and silversmith in London, where his love of beautiful antique gems and, more especially, coins of all nations led him to the study of numismatics.

He specialized in coin appraisals, but his fascination with their artistic qualities led him into sculpture and eventually his own studio in Henrietta Street, London, where he sculptered busts of the rich and famous – including the Marquis of Northampton, Lord Albert Conyngham, and William Smith, of the National Portrait Gallery.

William Henry Fox Talbot had invented a photographic process called the 'calotype' from the Greek words kalos for 'beautiful' and typos for 'impression', the only flaw in the process being that images were fuzzy and soft due to poor quality paper.

To aid his work Frederick Scott Archer turned to photography and in 1847 was taught the calotype process by his medical attendant, Dr Hugh W. Diamond.

Like many other amateurs he was keen to perfect Fox Talbot's new art-form, although its greatest drawback of long exposure times didn't suit portrait photography.

Experimenting with collodion and various other substances to try and perfect an image printed on paper, he was soon devoting all of his time to photography in a studio at the rear of his new house in Great Russell Street, London.

His breakthrough finally came in 1849 when he coated a glass plate with a mixture of collodion and potassium iodide and immersed it in a solution of silver nitrate. This allowed for both the exposure and development to be made within the camera whilst the plate was still wet, and by using glass as the base the result was a near-perfect negative image. More importantly, exposure time was reduced to a matter of seconds as opposed to the many minutes required by Fox Talbot's calotype process.

In May 1850 he wrote an article about the use of pyrogallic acid for The Chemist, and in September that same year showed details and photographs made by the wet-plate collodion process to his friends. But not until March 1851, when he was one hundred percent sure his results were consistent, did he publish a treatise in The Chemist discussing the advantages of collodion and offer up detailed instructions on the process.

His friend, W.J. Taylor, encouraged him to patent the process before publishing it, but Archer had no desire to make money from his discovery. His only concern was to make photography readily available and affordable to the general public. He also dismissed the suggestion that his collodion images should be termed 'Archerotypes'.


Just in case Archer should have second thoughts about applying for a patent, Henry Fox Talbot ruthlessly and immediately claimed that any modification of his calotype process was covered by his own patent and issued public warnings that anyone found using the collodion process without first obtaining a licence from him, would be sued.

To back up his threat he brought suits and injunctions against many photographers but in 1854 one man, Martin Silvester La Roche, a London photographer, went to court to defend his right to use the collodion process. The case proved to be a legal milestone. He was found not guilty of infringing Fox Talbot's patent rights and as a result all photography was now free from restriction.

After this legal judgement, Archer published a manual on the process in 1854 entitled: 'The Collodion Process on Glass'. This ultimately made him the inventor of the collodion process because he was the first to publish a formula and method that others could follow. And follow they did; the process becoming so popular that Fox Talbot didn't even bother to renew his calotype patent.

Photographers were quick to see the commercial possibilties of Archer's process, for not only was the collodion wet-plate process cheap, uncomplicated and incredibly quick to perform, the images were sharp and clear and unlimited paper prints could be made from the glass negative. But despite its ease of use the process wasn't perfect. Photographers working outdoors needed to take a portable darkroom laboratory with them, and not without reason was it called the black art. The chemical make-up of collodion was explosive in a confined space if subjected to an open flame, and as a consequence of working in the dark, stains from the silver nitrate turned hands, fingers and clothing black.

Had Scott Archer patented his discovery he would most certainly have been a very rich man, but in the event he died penniless in May 1857, aged 44, and was buried in a paupers' grave in Kensal Green Cemetery, London. Afterwards a fund was set up for the benefit of his wife and three children by the Photographic Society, raising £767, and a civil list pension of £50 per annum was awarded.

He did have some of his collodion glass negatives displayed at the Great Exhibition at Crystal Palace in 1851 alongside calotypes and daguerreotypes, and made significent contributions in optics and camera design, patenting several of his inventions. But not once in his lifetime did he get the credit due to him for making such an advance in photography.

He was though, by nature, a selfless man with no ego to maintain. The British Journal described him as 'a man of very obliging disposition', and an unattributed quote says of him ' A very inconspicuous gentlemen, in poor health, with a somewhat sorrowful look and an angel wife'. Sadly, his 'angel' wife, Fanny, died in March 1858 leaving their three children orphaned. Of these only Alice survived to adulthood, but it is not known if she ever married.


The following tribute was paid to Frederick Scott Archer in Punch magazine, June 1857

To the Sons of the Sun.

'The inventor of Collodion has died, leaving his invention, unpatented, to enrich thousands, and his family unapportioned, to the battle of life. Now, one expects a photographer to be almost as sensitive as the Collodion to which Mr. Scott Archer helped him. A deposit of silver is wanted (gold will do) and certain faces, now in the dark chamber, will light up wonderfully, with an effect never before equalled by photography. A respectable ancient writes, that the statue of Fortitude was the only one admitted to the Temple of the Sun. Instead whereof, do you, photographers, set up Gratitude in your little glass temples of the sun, and sacrifice, according to your means, in memory of the benefactor who gave you the deity for a household'.


The collodion wet-plate process lasted into the 1880s, but by then the development of an emulsion based on gelatin had emerged. It retained its speed while dry but, more importantly, it could be applied to a flexible backing – rolls of film – instead of glass.

It was George Eastman who revolutionised photography by introducing roll film, and in June 1888 introduced the Kodak – a camera that was light, inexpensive and simple to operate. He also brought photography to the masses in the commercial sense, but it was Frederick Scott Archer's unselflessness that ultimately allowed him and others to prosper.


11 comments:

Terrie Farley Moran said...

Hi DebbieLou,

This Frederick Scott Archer is my kind of guy. Do what you love!

Great post.

Terrie

Sam said...

That's sad that he dies a pauper's death. Lovely post!

Barrie said...

My 12 y.o. did a powerpoint (what has the world come to?!) presentation on photography earlier this year. So, this post was particularly interesting to me (and him).

Sad how many inventors end up dying penniless..

Monnik said...

i agree that it's sad that amazingly bright and creative people die before their contribution to the world is truly realized.

great post!!

Travis Erwin said...

It's a shame he didn't get to reap the benifits of his labor and love.

pattinase (abbott) said...

Love the music too.

Lana Gramlich said...

Very interesting! I have to kind of laugh about "long exposure times didn't suit portrait photography," considering sitting times involved in having someone paint!

Lyzzydee said...

Debs, I am worried about you, where are you digging up all these famous Bishops Stortfordian people from??? I mean I realise that you are intimatly related to three quarters of the folk in town, including several mad aunties, but I had no idea Stortford had so many famous sons. I am at the point where I am wondering just what else there is to say about my home town when you have only managed to get as far forward as the 1880's !! Wanders off worried about her friend who has obviously been talking to too many loony blackbirds!!!

Debbielou said...

Thank you everyone - I'm really enjoying writing these posts - I'm learning SO much!

Lyzzy - Loads more to come yet !- I did tell you that insanity runs in my family??

WordVixen said...

That's incredible- what a guy. A genius and selfless! I have to wonder how photography would have evolved without that important step.

Debbielou said...

Thanks for dropping by Word Vixen x