|
My
brother, Bob, read this book before I did. He's a Harvard
graduate with a PhD and an extensive vocabulary, but he's a
populist at heart and in practice. He was animated and
enthusiastic about the book. Nodding and gesturing he said:
"She gets it."
AS
WE WERE covers its subject, American Photographic
Postcards, thoroughly and with insight, but the book does
more than that. It transcends the genre and becomes a book
about life: "We're face to face with both their moment of
reality in the card and their absolute transience." The
author's scholarly approach is laced with wisdom and
humanity. Who would think that a book about real photo
postcards (to use the vernacular) would be so
compelling?
Ms.
Vaule was introduced to photographic postcards as a child.
Her grandfather had them in albums. "For my grandparents the
card represented a souvenir of a place or a special
occasion, a status proudly attained or an expression of
delight in their son's young life. For me, the card becomes
a way of getting closer to them as they were before I
entered into the continuum."
Real
photo postcards were made by professional photographers and
amateurs alike. The cards were "unpretentious, on home
ground, cheap, and ready for mailing." Surprisingly, the
majority were not mailed but were used as souvenirs or
gifts.
Often
these photographs depict people in their everyday clothes
standing in front of the clapboards of their homes. The
author elaborates on one example: "This is such a stable
picture, all verticals and horizontals except for the collar
and windswept skirt. Rebecca, her left foot solidly at
center, is a pillar of cheerful strength." Another card
shows family in their Sunday best, out on a rural road,
standing for their portrait; curiously, one young man sits
apart from the group on a pile of stones. A delightful
photograph of a boy on the ground with his hand on a resting
pig carries the sender's message on the back: "Dear
Aunt....Joe wants to know if you know which one is
he....."
Real
photo postcards showed how people worked, and what they wore
when they worked. There is an outdoor portrait of a group of
postal workers, who hold their packages of mail like
trophies. Their humble presentation becomes our treasure. In
another scene, there's humor in the two loggers who turn the
saw blades on themselves. On another page, a huge barn with
a symmetrical slope in front defines the four farmhands who
stand in its doorway. An Ohio bootmaker looks like an actor
on center stage.
The
selection of photographs is especially rich. We see a group
of children arm in arm, running in a joyous dance on the
beach in Santa Barbara. We know it wasn't as spontaneous as
it appears, but who could've choreographed the two children
to the right who are side by side with legs raised, or the
bunching that occurred to the line at the left?
Not
all is blissful in this America. There is the photo of the
general store with a message about the sick father on
reverse. There's the interior of Mary Fletcher Hospital
where patients and nurses alike pose for the camera. The
three performers from Hornbeak Tennessee seem to gawk at us,
just as we gawk at them. We see George Schmitt's Red Devil
plane in flight, taken in rural Vermont. The plane
transforms this card from mundane to captivating, and then
we read the message: "This is Schmitt flying the day he was
killed."
In
looking through the imagery in this book, we have to abandon
the concept that all is naive, for much of the work is
informed, even if it's informed by an earlier time. There
are the Montpelier boys in front of the ruins of a still
smoldering fire. Their dark clothes provide great contrast
to the snow around them. A pedestrian is a blur and the dog
is a 'ghost' image. This depiction of action is now
perceived as a modern value, yet it's as old as photography
itself.
We
bring ourselves into these photographs. What's more surreal
than the Cincinnati flood scene showing an urban landscape
populated only by people in boats with oars? This particular
scene has added significance since Hurricane
Katrina.
One
senses the hope and changing values of the time. A small
town shows off its shiny fire engine. The store advertising
"New & Second-Hand Furniture" reminds us that the
recycling industry is not completely new. A young woman
dives off a dock to this response: "I guess by the picture
that the College girls have fully as good a time as we do."
We see people posed with machines and a couple of factory
postcards could be right out of Charlie Chaplin's Modern
Times.
Ms.
Vaule's sense of inclusion truly reflects the American
experience. While celebrating diversity with pictures, the
author points out the racist language on the reverse of an
image of people in an alfalfa field as well as a disturbing
sign above a group of Hopi and Navajo dancers. We marvel at
the beauty of 'Alaska woman' and are intrigued by the woman
holding a puppy by an empty chair.
Don't
let the title AS WE WERE deceive you. It is accurate,
but this is not a nostalgic book. It offers insight to who
we are and how the past precedes the future. My brother is
right. Rosamond Vaule does 'get it.' And while she 'gets it'
her greater gift is in the telling.
Click
the title for more information and discounted pricing
through Amazon.com
As
We Were: American Photographic Postcards,
1905-1930
|
