Salvation

There is some faded writing on the back of this cabinet card, but there were only two words I could reliably translate. "Armi," obviously army and "uniforma," uniform. It's when I got out the magnifying glass and strained to read the print on the lady's sashes that I was able to infer some answers. "For Synders Frelse" fed into the Google translator, Danish came up as the language and the actual translation, "For sinners salvation." The best explanation is that these three ladies are members of The Salvation Army and that, if I could read what's actually written on the back, it would come up as either "3 Salvation Army members in uniform or "3 Salvation Army women in uniform." And the photographers name, "F. Lind Kabelvaag."

A Nineteenth Century Wedding

EBay can be an expensive way to collect old photos. Believe me, I've found that out the hard way. But, if you're willing to spend time scrolling through page after page of old photos, from time to time something interesting and affordable will come up. I hadn't really been looking for cabinet cards, but there they were. Nine, starting price of 99 cents, two bucks for shipping and not a single bid. Anyway, this was one of the ones I liked for a rather perverse reason. I'm a big believer that as photographic technique improved over the years, so did the subject's relationship to the camera. Stiff and formal was the standard, lively with a sense of movement a rarity. It took decades for the people being photographed to learn to relax and show some humanity. I'm fascinated that these people looked so stark on the big day. There is a studio mark embossed on the card, "D. A. Frommeyer -HANOVER, PA-" All I could dig up on Mr. Frommeyer is that he had a studio in Hanover from 1886 to 1911.

Alfalfa, Sr. Cabinet Card

I dare anyone to tell me that this guy doesn't look like Alfalfa from The Little Rascals. All that's missing is the cow lick and a few freckles. This card was probably made in the nineteenth century, so it is possible that this man could be an ancestor of little Al. Nice tie, too.

What Makes a Great Cabinet Card Part 2?

Yesterday I asked the question, with millions to choose from, what makes a great cabinet card. Well, here is an example. The photographer, M.J. Streuser from Bellevue, Iowa had a great eye for composition, the subject matter, a group of guys out having a good time, the sense of movement one gets from Arnie brandishing his club. Wow. I feed the name M.J. Streuser into Google, not expecting much, and found another example of his work on the Cowan Auctions site, of a photographer and his assistant posing with their wares. Probably a self portrait and it was wonderful too. I really recommend that others visit and take a look. The very first post I put up on this blog was a group of prints I made from a set of glass negs, all from the same photographer, and the thought of picking up more Streuser prints, well it's the same. Written on the back, "Arnie, Geo. Zentiner, Frank Kegles, Charles Hartley, Ed Kamp, Phil, Joe Brandt, From one of Arnie's birthdays." Go punch in M.J. Streuser into Google before the Cowan Auctions site takes down the cabinet card I mentioned, and please use the archives section to the right to navigate back to Montana Glass Negatives, pubished on June 9. 2009.

What Makes a Great Cabinet Card?

There are millions of cabinet cards out there, so why buy one over another? A great pose, interesting face, unique clothing or a particular skill on the part of the photographer are all great reasons to buy an image. Sometimes, as was the case with this card, it's the back. I saw all of the medals and assumed that photographer Dabbs was a multi award winner, but when I got home and looked at them with a lens, I was a bit surprised. Three are identical logos for The Pennsylvania State Agricultural Society, three are basically advertising marks, a couple of things in Latin that could be anything and one, and only one, award medallion. Well, I guess that means that false advertising is nothing new. It reminds me of the old story of how P.T. Barnum got people to move out of his venues. He put up big signs that said "This way to the Egress." Egress is just a fancy way of saying, this way out.

The German American Collection, Cabinet Cards and CDVs

Here's the story on this collection. I bought it from an online dealer from Florida. He had picked up a large group of photos, albums, and ephemera from an estate, sold of a number of images, separately, and then took what was left and put together some lots for sale. I tried to buy a number of these groupings, and this was the only one I was able to get. There are some really nice photos, some dull ones, and some that are just plain bad. Because I think context is important, I'll eventually put all of them on line, but because so much of it is missing from the collection, I'll be putting them up intermittently, rather than all at once. Because I have some photos taken in Germany I've decided to label them all The German American Collection. Not a lot of labeling on these ones. The old man has a studio mark, "L. Rogers, PHOTOGRAPHER, TARRYTOWN, N.Y." Written, "Pops mothers father-Lewis" The young boy, "Seeley, 292 Main Street, Po'keepsie, N.Y." and written, "Katie Mortimer" And no, that's not a mistake, he's identified as Katie.

Cabinet Card-Two Children

Two little girls? Very likely, but not a sure thing. There was a custom among the upper classes of the nineteenth century of keeping little boys in dresses and long hair until they were three or four years old. Then it was knee pants, and not until a certain age, long trousers.

Clearfield Cabinet Card

When I first started collecting old photos, my main emphasis was on old. The older the better. While I still look for interesting cabinet cards, carte de visites, and tintypes, as well as more modern studio shots, press photos, and postcards, my focus has shifted to snapshots from the twentieth century. This is one of my first purchases. Clearfield, the county seat of Clearfield County is in central Pennsylvania, about a two hour drive from my home town. Nothing on the back of the card.

A Little Girl From Altoona

I'm in a cabinet card kind of mood. The cabinet card like the carte de visite was an early attempt to come up with a standardized format. Cabinet cards were approximately 4.25x6.5 inches. The back of this card was textured and I had to use the descreen setting on the scanner to get rid of the Newton rings. Altoona is a small city in west central Pennsylvania.

The Patriarch of East Liverpool, Ohio

This guy is the stereotype of the stern family patriarch. Hard to believe that this man's life might have overlapped the life of Thomas Jefferson.

Foltz & Fowler Cabinet Card

Go back through the collection and there will be a lot of photographs that have a brown tone to them. Most are brown because the printer did not give the print an archival wash. Fix, or hypo, is the chemical used to harden the print emulsion. If the printer doesn't wash the print long enough, the hypo that remains behind leaches out of the print and turns a yellowish brown. An albumen print, a nineteenth century medium that used egg whites as a solution, mixed with the light sensitive salts and applied to the paper that was then used for printing had a natural rich brown tone. Sepia tone.

McKeesport, Pa - Egyptian Cabinet Card

The cabinet card, like the smaller carte de visite was an attempt to make a standard sized, universal format that could be given and collected in albums and frames. This rather stern looking lady, trussed up in her corset was made far more interesting by the Egyptian themed card. It's hard to read, but "Mrs. Mary and Bowers Grandma, Grandma Bowers" is written on the back. And yes, it does read "and" rather than the far more likely Ann.

In Mourning

Cabinet cards were one of the first attempts at standardization in photography. While the size of the actual print might vary, the card mount itself was 4.25 x 6.5 inches and could fit into pre-made albums and frames. This style was popular, in the 19th century, as a mourning card. Stamped on the back, "Wm. L. Cornell. South Amboy, N.J."

Cabinet Cards

I've noticed that a lot of dealers seem to be confused about cabinet cards. The cabinet card is standardized format. A cabinet card is 4.25x6.5 inch cardboard with a print mounted on the front. While the image may vary somewhat, the image is usually around 4x5.25 inches. The borders on the front and the back of the card often have photographers marks, identifying the photographer and the location of his studio. Both of these images are somewhat different in that they do not have any advertising on the reverse of the card, and the image of the woman has no identifying marks on the front borders, either.

Swiss Soldier

A nineteenth century cabinet card of a soldier, from Switzerland. On the back, "Alb. Ramstein FRIBOURG (Suisse) Diplome Geneve 1896. Les Cliches sont conserves. Die platten bleiben zu Nachbestellungen aufbewahrt."

A Little Boy In Curls

It was one of the stranger customs of the second half of the nineteenth century for little boys to be kept in effeminate clothing and long curly hair until they got to be a certain age. It was a big deal for these young boys to get that first hair cut, and move onto more masculine clothing. It's very hard to read from the scan, but stamped on the border, "Durand Wisconsin, and Raitts" Raitts is probably the name of the photo studio where this picture was taken. This is another example of some digital repairs that I had done when I worked at the photo lab. There was a bit of foxing and some other very minor flaws corrected, and then I had a fine black & white negative made, and then I made a conventional print.