Seaside Photographer at Work

Between the wars every seaside town and resort would have at least one photographic business that specialised in selling visitors their photographic likenesses.  With large plate cameras they would record the departure of every charabanc tour and have prints of the participants ready for them to purchase on their return.  Others would haunt the esplanades and deck chairs taking photos on spec in the hope of selling prints later.  Often they would hand a docket to their subjects with a reference number and an address where the finished prints could be purchased. Another strategy was to gather the largest possible crowd of trippers at a point where a camera could record the scene from an elevated position.  They were then directed to a nearby shop where prints were on sale in less than hour.  The legal right to a week’s paid holiday was only established by the Holidays with Pay Act of 1938 but since the 1870s major employers had been closing factories and mills annually for a week enabling the workforce the luxury of an unpaid summer holiday commensurate with whatever they had saved during the winter. So there was no shortage of customers for the photographer’s services and photos like this must survive in hundreds of thousands if not millions.

What’s especially fascinating is the high definition that the plate camera supplied, leaving us with images that reward close scrutiny with remarkable clarity of detail. A rich variety of physical types and expressions turn up alongside a wealth of information about contemporary fashion trends. I counted only 16 hatless adults in this image. This camera confronts a mostly happy multitude of holidaymakers, it’s undated (the time is inscribed as 6.45pm) but on the reverse is the address of a Bournemouth photographic studio by the name of Bailey. Bournemouth with its origin as a Spa resort cultivated an image of respectability reflected in its Invalid’s Walk and the Russell-Cotes Art Gallery while they made the most of endorsements from the likes of Thomas Hardy and JRR Tolkien.  Many proud fathers, often in collar and tie, hold their offspring high for the camera and there’s an air of prosperity apparent in many other faces suggesting that the middle class is well represented here.  These aren’t the sort of people you might see on a Jarrow Hunger March.

A few details are selected here - faces that jump out of the crowd, some that are almost instantly recognisable, others that look like nobody we’ve ever seen before. There’s no lack of traditional British grumpiness to be seen but there’s also an impressive level of equanimity and good cheer - testament to the healing powers of a day at the seaside. These were the last decades of White British domination - pre-diversity Britain. After the war this would begin to change and a new and very different pattern of ethnicity arrived on the scene.  People who came to Britain because Britain had come to them.

 

Rundfahrten

The tour bus never goes away - every major city has fleets of these vehicles, usually open-topped, finished in garish colour combinations and accompanied by teams of outriders roaming the streets to sign up new customers.  It’s sightseeing at its most basic,  sit back and let the sights come to you.  Seconds later your photos can be glowing on Instagram.  In the interwar years the tradition was for a jobbing photographer to capture the tour bus and its passengers before its departure.  Darkroom technicians would swiftly do their magic and sparkling prints would be sold to passengers on their return.  The results were often surprisingly good considering the time pressure and as you might expect, these examples from German cities achieved a remarkable degree of definition.

We begin with the Berlin tour guide posed in front of the bus on the Unter Den Linden - like everyone else she squints into the glare of low autumnal sun. Hats, overcoats and furs offer protection from the cold, the date is October 6th. 1922. Most passengers make the effort to smile for the camera and have the air of belonging in upper income groups.  A potential subversive loiters second from the right, his prominent facial hair indicative of a non-conformist nature.  Moving on to Cologne in 1910 we meet a horse drawn charabanc outside the west doors of the cathedral. Uniformed staff in top hats are in charge and the group are perched high on upholstered benches. Not so many smiles in 1910 and some notably grumpy veiled faces. Three further examples from Cologne, all posed outside the cathedral and examples from Munich and Nuremberg complete the selection. 

 

Mass Transit in Victorian Britain

There are 20 visible passengers, including the coachman, piled high in defiance of gravity on this horse-drawn carriage.  Some look sullen, some apprehensive while others appear quite pleased with themselves.  Another 17 bystanders, plus a groom, line the foreground and face the camera. More socially diverse than the passengers behind, they look as if they just drifted into the frame. There are no clues as to location anywhere on the card but the buildings, with their extensive rustication, suggest a business district in a substantial city around the turn of the twentieth century.  The camera operator has achieved a remarkable degree of focus enabling each of these faces to be seen in surprising detail.  I read somewhere that Apple has a team of 6,000 employees working on the development of the iPhone camera yet they might struggle to produce a better image than this.