Before attempting to pull together the various strands of the
argument, it is necessary to round out the picture on the subject
of photographic verisimilitude.
Outside Quakerism, the debate very soon passed beyond an initial
naive enthusiasm. John Ruskin concluded in 1851, in The Stones
of Venice, that photography could not be art because the
process was purely mechanical. This was echoed by Lady Elizabeth
Eastlake, in her 1857 Quarterly Review article on 'Photography,'
in which she gave her view that photography, in its lack of the
power of selection, could not be considered as an art form, and
that it was dependent on the observer's subjective interpretation;
in portraiture, she wrote, 'What indeed are nine-tenths of those
facial maps called photographic portraits, but accurate landmarks
and measurements for loving eyes and memories to deck with beauty
and animate with expression, in perfect certainty, that the ground-plan
is founded upon fact?' (1) Essentially,
these writers were accepting the verisimilitude of photography,
but arguing that verisimilitude of this kind was simply not enough.
Disdéri, on the other hand, cast doubt on photographic
verisimilitude, giving the opinion that photography was an implicitly
theatrical medium, the process itself liable to show us 'the actor
where we believed we put the man, the theatrical action where
we attempted to place the natural action'.
(2)
At a later date P.H. Emerson would advance beyond these positions:
in relation to portraiture specifically he wrote that 'nearly
all portrait photographs are . . . unlike the people they represent' (3): never mind retouching, burnishing
and vignetting, the portrait lens itself gave false drawing of
the planes and false tonality. Still later Lewis Hine was to aphorise
that 'while photographs may not lie, liars may photograph.' (4)
The Quaker view—if considered bare of any theological overlay—seems to have been much that of Lamartine, who wrote in 1858
that 'Photography plagiarizes nature by means of optics.'
(5) Beyond that already considered, there is further
evidence that Quakers saw photography as objectively truthful.
For example Samuel Tuke, writing in 1860 of the obligations of
a biographer, makes the analogy that a physiognomist would obtain
greater utility from a photograph than from an oil painting; (6) Sir Alfred Pease, describing
Friends of his father's generation, noted that 'When photography
was introduced many allowed themselves to be photographed, thinking
no doubt that such likenesses would not flatter but be correct
and truthful images.' (7)
The key figure in this debate, of course, is Francis Frith,
and his 1859 paper on 'The Art of Photography', outlined to Friends
in January that year (8). For Frith,
one of photography's 'chief peculiarities' as a pictorial art
was its 'essential truthfulness', though he qualified this by
suggesting that this was more correctly descriptive of outline
than of perspective, light and shade. Indeed, he acknowledged
that for some people photography was too truthful: 'We
are aware that ladies, of uncertain age, have discovered and pronounced
that "those photographic machines are as false and deceitful
as the rest of mankind; that the portraits which Mr. So-and-so
took of them were no more like them than nothing at all--their
own sisters would not have known them!"'.
(9)
For Frith, truthfulness was photography's 'greatest charm';
and, truth being a divine quality, it is 'quite impossible that
this quality can so obviously and largely pervade a popular art,
without exercising the happiest and most important influence,
both upon the tastes and the morals of the people.'
(10) But, as art, photography was at a disadvantage:
though art and photography insisted on the truth and nothing but
the truth, the two parted company with art's further insistence
on the whole truth. (11)
This is very much in line with the views of Ruskin and Eastlake. (12)
Pertinent to the truthfulness of a photographic portrait, of
course, are the issues of colouring and retouching. As Heighway
wrote in his 1876 Practical Portrait Photography, 'Are
the artistic and truthful qualities of a portrait enhanced or
not by retouching? . . . Too often they are not only added to,
but entirely obliterated.' (13) It is difficult to form a conclusion
here, though, because by far the greater number of Quaker photographic
portraits seen, in the course of the research, were photo-mechanically
reproduced in one manner or another, and in monochrome. Of original
photographs seen, the number of tinted images runs to single figures
only, probably all of them being collodion positives (but note that Gandy's
1869 advertisement offered a
colouring service). Three prints, only, seen at Friends'
House Library show obvious marks of some sort of retouching, in
all cases to emphasise hair or beards that do not show sufficient
contrast; given that the treatment appears to be to the print,
rather than the negative, they are probably a non-contemporary
attempt to salvage a fading image, rather than conventional retouching. (14) It is unfortunate in this context,
but conclusions cannot really be drawn, on either tinting or retouching.
The objective of
this dissertation, has been to explore attitudes to portraiture
among Quakers of the period; to consider the context for these
attitudes; to consider the degree to which attitudes changed,
the manner of the change, and the extent to which the change is
attributable to the rise of photography.
Drawing on contemporary
testimony—particularly that of Thomas Clarkson—it has been
shown that at the start of the period Friends generally deplored
both painting and portraiture, objecting to ostentatious display,
and considering that portraiture encouraged pride and self-conceit.
This was not unique to painting and portraiture, but formed one
aspect of the widely held Quaker testimony to plainness of speech,
behaviour and apparel. Furthermore the Quaker discipline, by which
London Yearly Meeting maintained control over British Quakerism,
was systematic and effective, and included provision for the disownment
of Friends who failed to adhere to Quaker testimonies or who married
out of the Society. This in turn reinforced the distinctiveness
of Friends as a 'peculiar people', inward-looking and to a degree
inbred.
By the 1830s there
were already a significant minority of Friends who were rejecting
Quaker austerity. Although undoubtedly personal affluence will
have been a contributory factor, this does not counteract the
tenor of the argument, because a degree of affluence was increasingly
a characteristic of Friends generally. It has been shown that
some Quakers (such as Hannah Chapman Backhouse, Sarah Stickney
Ellis, the Fox sisters) were taking up painting for their own
amusement, and some were even attempting portraits (Samuel Lucas).
The particular influence has been noted, through the way she brought
up her children (who themselves were to be influential in British
Quakerism), of Catherine Gurney; also of Amelia Opie and Benjamin
West.
Also, in the 1830s,
attempts were made to formulate a 'Quaker aesthetic': Bernard
Barton's was in a private letter, but Luke Howard's 1835 essay
was published in a Quaker periodical. That change was in the air
was shown by the lively debate on 'The Fine Arts', initiated by
Samuel Tuke's contribution to The Friend at the end of
1844.
In British Quakerism
the years 1859 and 1860 marked a cultural watershed. The Query
on plainness was dropped, as was disownment for marrying out.
Influential among Quakers was Mary Ann Schimmelpenninck, whose
Principles of Beauty, published that year. More directly
influential were the two 1859 prize-winning essays, in particular
John Stevenson Rowntree's Quakerism, Past and Present,
pleading for Quakers to embrace the aesthetic. For the present
writer, the Friends' Quarterly Examiner declaration that
'He that dishonoureth the creature dishonoureth the Creator' (p.
24) marks a symbolic full stop at the end
of the protracted debate.
The dissertation
has described how, while painting in oils was not acceptable at
the start of the period, Quakers found pencil drawing and even
watercolour painting increasingly acceptable when used, specifically,
to illustrate the beauties of nature. For this purpose Bootham
School appointed a drawing master in 1835, and the narrowly-conceived
Ackworth Society of Arts was founded in 1836. It has been noted
that Quakers were also particularly attracted to the observational
sciences.
In the context of
portraiture, it has been noted that the creation of silhouettes
became quite widely acceptable among British Friends from the
late 18th century; as shadow portraits, they were in
a sense created directly by nature. (15)
The acceptance of silhouettes may well have contributed to the
later acceptance of photography, but no direct evidence has been
found to support this view.
The two main Quaker
periodicals of the Victorian era both commenced publication in
the 1840s, and for the period under review reveal a fascinating
tension between conservative and liberalising trends within British
Quakerism. The Friend included advertisements for engraved
portraits right from the start of publication, but The British
Friend was still taking issue with portraiture as late as
the 1860s. Even here, though, the by then wide acceptance of photography
broke through such resistance as remained.
It has been shown
that some Friends took an active interest in photography from
the outset, and that Francis Frith was far from being the only
significant early photographer who was associated with Friends
(Richard Dykes Alexander was a member of the Society; John Dillwyn
Llewelyn had Quaker ancestry, and had close ties with Quakers).
There was a notable degree of interest in photography at the Quaker
schools (Bootham, Ackworth, Croydon).
The Friend
regularly reported on photography during this period, and took
it for granted that its readers would be interested. Francis Frith
was clearly viewed as the conduit between Quakerism and photography,
and his views on photographic verisimilitude received general
acceptance.
The early interest
in photography shown at Bootham school was doubtless awakened
by their science master William Pumphrey, who left the school
to become the second professional photographer in York. Pumphrey
did not advertise in the Quaker press, but others of this profession
did, and the number of professional photographers who appear to
have been Quakers has been one of the most notable surprises of
the research (the other was the extent of interest in photography
generally, shown in the columns and advertising of The Friend).
No fewer than eleven individuals, representing ten studios, have
been identified, all known to have been in business prior to 1870
(Robert Thomas Morgan Allan, John Charles Constable, Samuel Fry,
Charles Alfred Gandy, T.B. Latchmore, Samuel Francis May, Alfred
Pumphrey, William Pumphrey, Charles F. Ravis, Lambert Weston,
& Sidney Cooper Weston).
At an early stage
of research the author was advised that he was likely to have
to draw on negative evidence, as he was likely to find little
direct evidence relating to Quakers and photography.
Whilst he has certainly, however, found a great deal of direct
evidence, it is true that much of this is circumstantial, and
the case for the degree to which changing attitudes to portraiture
among British Friends can be attributed to the rise of photography
needs largely to be inferred.
In the light of
the developing views of a Quaker aesthetic, from the 1830s onwards,
and especially in view of the revolutionary changes of the watershed
years of 1859-60, it seems likely that change would have occurred
sooner or later, with or without photography. However, it is also
clear that Friends welcomed photography with open arms. One senses
that the editor of the British Friend was as fierce in
his resistance as he was because he already knew he was fighting
a lost cause.
Evidence has been
given for a real yearning for portraiture among Friends, as much
as anything to provide mementoes to their loved ones (Bernard
Barton's ecstatic response to discovering a portrait of his father;
Joseph Pease submitting, like Robert Goodbody's grandmother, to
having portraits made for their children). When photographic portraiture
became practicable, not only was it possible to argue that there
was no conceit or flattery, because photographic truth was incontestible,
but also there was the sense that, like silhouettes, photographs
were created directly from nature, without human intercession;
the speed of the sitting (even a slow photographic sitting was
far quicker than sitting for a painted portrait) was such that
opportunities for vanity were seen as minimal.
What seems to have
happened, then, is that photographic portraiture fell into the
lap of a generally eager and ready Quaker public. Whilst changing
attitudes to portraiture cannot be solely attributed to photography,
it seems reasonable to conclude that photography enabled, facilitated,
and expedited the change.
9. Frith (1859): 116. That this is no exaggeration
can be borne out directly from independent Quaker testimony: Anne
Ogden Boyce recorded, of Elizabeth Richardson, that 'One summer
evening, when a party of young people were assembled at the sisters'
house, the conversation turned on photography, and Elizabeth denounced
in no measured terms the unflattering character of the presentments
which that art, then in its infancy, had made of some of her relatives.
"Do you call this thing a likeness of that nice-looking woman?
why it is some ugly old witch!" was her unsparing criticism
of one portrait.' Boyce (1889): 233-34.
10. Frith (1859): 117.
11. loc. cit. Michael Wigg has rightly
shown how the gradual process of beginning to question photographic
veracity may have contributed to Frith's reconsideration of Biblical
infallibility—Wigg (1998): 6
12. Interestingly, as recently as the 1970s,
in an article in Quaker Religious Thought, the question
was mooted as to whether photographic veracity might not be a
contributory factor to the prevalence of contemporary Quaker photographic
art over Quaker paintings (Palmer 1972-73: 9).
13. Heighway (1876): 55-56; the work is
generally positive about retouching, however.
14. None of the prints is precisely datable.
Two are cartes de visite, normally regarded as too small to merit
retouching; the third is a cabinet, and is therefore no earlier
than 1866, which is both the date when the cabinet format was
introduced and that when retouching in the negative became the
norm in Britain (Linkman 1993: 77-79; Gernsheim 1988: 190). It
is interesting to note that when retouching entered its second
lease of life at this time certain apologists used verisimilitude
as an argument in favour, arguing that since photography
could itself be untruthful in some situations—as when red hair
was rendered black in the finished print, or freckles reproduced
as coarse black spots—retouching 'could legitimately be employed
to rectify technical untruthfulness in order to achieve artistic
verity' (Linkman 1993: 80).
15. This comes across particularly clearly
in the 1843 welcome given to photography by the (non-Quaker) Mary
Russell Mitford: 'It is not merely the likeness which is precious—but the association and the sense of nearness involved in the
thing . . . the fact of the very shadow of the person lying there
fixed for ever!' (Gernsheim & Gernsheim 1971: 64).
