For the past several months the IMA has been conducting a condition survey of its photograph collection, over 800 objects that span the history of the medium.  This program is sponsored by a generous grant from the Institute of Museum and Library Services (IMLS), a wing of the federal government that supports museum and conservation activities.  In addition to the inventory and conservation assessment of each artwork, the grant has also funded a study of the lightfastness of the contemporary color photographs in the collection using a technique called microfade testing (MFT), or microfadeometry.  The goal of the study is to determine the susceptibility to color change for the highest priority color photographs in the collection and to determine patterns of lightfastness among the many photographic processes.  This data in turn informs our exhibition, loan, and lighting guidelines for the collection.

Figure 1. Watercolor paint outs after artificial light aging.

In the past, the kinetics of fading were determined using surrogate materials, not actual artworks, and these were assumed to reflect the behavior of the real objects.  These so-called mock-ups were subjected to intense irradiation in light aging chambers to accelerate their natural fading rates to fit a laboratory timescale.  Periodically the color of the samples would be measured, and a fading curve would be created that would predict the amount of color change accompanying a certain dose of light.  Called the “rule of reciprocity,” fading in intense light for a short duration (weeks or months) should mimic the effects of dimmer light over a much longer time span (years or centuries).  Figure 1 shows watercolor samples of a geranium lake pigment in the museum’s light aging chamber.  The aluminum foil that covered a portion of the sample during the test has been pulled back to reveal the fading effects of simulated sunlight through window glass.  This short but intense irradiation in the laboratory would be the equivalent of just a few years of ambient exposure in a sunny room.  Geranium lake, which contains the synthetic dye eosin, was unfortunately often used by van Gogh during the last years of his life and has resulted in significant color change to some of his paintings.

Unfortunately, the vagaries of artworks are often hard to predict when assembling a mock-up. The medium, color density, substrate, admixtures, and previous fading history of a work can all change the rate of fading of a pigment or dye.  Although acceleration is present in the mock-up experiments, the correlation to real world behavior is often imperfect.  To overcome these difficulties, a microfade tester (MFT) was assembled by Dr. Paul Whitmore, conservation scientist at Carnegie Mellon University in the late 1990s.  The MFT uses a powerful xenon arc lamp and filters to focus an intense light beam through a fiber optic to a small spot – the width of a few human hairs – on the surface of the actual artwork.  A second fiber optic collects the reflected light — what we would sense as color — and delivers it to a miniature spectrometer.  As the lamp fades the surface of the artwork, the resulting color change is monitored by the spectrometer.  Because of the instrument’s sensitivity, the fading experiment can be stopped before the sample location reaches a color change perceivable to the human eye.  No mock-up experiments are needed, and all the complexities and previous history of the sample are included in these in situ measurements.  The MFT is transportable, so artworks of any size or shape can be measured, often without even having to be removed from the gallery wall.  Figure 2 shows visiting professor Mike Columbia from Indiana University Purdue University Fort Wayne (IPFW) conducting a fade test on a large Cibachrome print, Dante’s Inferno, by Andres Serrano.

Figure 2. MFT analysis of Andres Serrano’s Dante’s Inferno
(1998.39, created 1990, Gift of the Contemporary Art Society)

The fading curves from the yellow and red areas of the photograph are shown in the color coded graph below, Figure 3, along with 3 fading references.  These standards, Blue Wools 1 through 3, are used in the textile industry to test light fading, and each fades at about half the rate of the previous one.  Delta E (DE) is the color science unit of color difference, and you can see it rising slowly for all of the curves with increasing duration of exposure to the xenon light source.  The dyes used in Dante’s Inferno exhibit a sensitivity that falls between the fading rates of Blue Wool 2 and Blue Wool 3, earning them a ranking of “fugitive” and suggesting that continual exhibition under normal room lighting conditions would result in a color shift in these areas in less than 20 years.  Obviously tight controls on lighting levels and limited exposure periods are warranted to protect this artwork into the future.

Figure 3. MFT fading curve showing color change (Delta E) as a function of exposure time (minutes)
for several red and yellow areas of the Dante’s Inferno and Blue Wool reference standards 1 through 3.
The graph was created with GCI’s SpectralViewer Software.

In other instances, the MFT data suggests some photographs could benefit from occasional exhibition.  Dark storage of prints and photographs often results in yellowing of the organic substrates, residual processing chemicals, and media.  This yellowing changes the tonal relationship of the highlight areas, which are often just the uncolored white substrate of the photograph, with the rest of the color image.  Figure 4 shows a chromogenic print of New York City by Kenji Nakahashi, Good Morning Empire, which was fade tested in the white areas of the reflective puddle of water.  The resulting color change graph, Figure 5, shows a sharp decay in the yellowness-blueness parameter, called b* in color science parlance.  The small positive b* value indicates a slight yellow tone that falls off smoothly suggesting that the photograph is being photo-bleached to a purer white color.  Occasional display of the photograph under normal museum lighting conditions will restore the original white highlights of the image.

Figure 4. Good Morning Empire, 1992.73, created 1987, printed 1991,
Kenji Nakahashi, The Carl H. Lieber Memorial Fund.

Figure 5. MFT fading curve showing diminishing b* (yellowness) as a function of
exposure time in 3 white areas of Good Morning Empire.

The IMLS microfading study is nearing completion and we are learning a lot about individual photographs in the collection.  Fortunately there have been no “superfaders” (colorants that would dramatically change appearance over the course of even a single exhibition) discovered so far.  However, the results indicate that many of the early color photographic process and even some modern digital printing processes still call for caution in terms of museum lighting and exhibition scheduling. We hope that going forward our photographic images will not burn out, but only fade gracefully. . . albeit very, very slowly.

As I have written about in previous posts (here, here, here, and here), the IMA is very fortunate to have photograph conservator Paul Messier on site with us to conduct a conservation condition survey of all of our collection photographs. This initiative was made possible through a generous grant from the Institute of Museum & Library Services (IMLS) in recognition of IMA’s significant holdings of historic and contemporary photographs. With the information gained from this survey, the IMA hopes to design a program of optimal care that will allow us to responsibly study and exhibit our photographs within the highest standard of preservation.

Paul has recently surveyed our collection of Weegee photographs, which came to the IMA in 2009. Weegee is a pseudonym for Arthur Fellig, who immigrated with his family at the age of 10 to New York from the Ukraine in 1909. He began his work in photography as a darkroom assistant for Acme Newspictures (which became United Press International Photos) before striking out on his own as a freelance photographer, concentrating on crime photography. He would often arrive at crime scenes before the first responders, which led to a joking reputation for prescience. This earned him the nickname of “ouija” (from the future-predicting board game), which was phonetically reinterpreted as “Weegee.” Weegee became well-known as a hard-boiled, scruffy, street-smart individual. He was also a natural self-promoter, who began signing his work “Weegee the Famous.” He is considered one of the first street photographers, as opposed to the traditional studio photographer who worked with staged compositions and tightly controlled content. His approach paved the way for the work of later notable photographers, such as Diane Arbus and Robert Frank. Weegee developed and printed his own photographs, and his work was published in all of the prominent New York City newspapers. He became widely known for his gritty, unvarnished views of crime, but perhaps he is best appreciated today for his capture of NYC life in high and low places—glimpses of ordinary moments frozen into significance as unselfconscious documents of time and place.

Paul called my attention to two particular photographs that struck him as singular, both of which are portraits of Weegee: one is a gelatin-silver print by photographer Larry Block and the other is a color Polaroid self-portrait by Weegee. These images, while very different from each other, are praiseworthy for their success within their respective techniques in conveying a strong sense of personality. They are also beautifully rendered, aptly utilizing the aesthetic parameters of the materials servicing these processes.

Larry Block “Portrait of Weegee,” undated. Gelatin Silver Print.Caroline Marmon Fesler Fund, Gift of the Alliance of the Indianapolis Museum of Art, Roger G. Wolcott Fund, Nancy Foxwell Neuberger Acquisition Endowment Fund, Mr. and Mrs. Theodore P. Van Vorhees Art Fund, Cecil F. Head Art Fund, James V. Sweetser Fund. 2009.272.

The undated portrait of Weegee by Larry Block is a study of the photographer in a pensive moment, fueled by a focused intensity. He is slouched informally, yet commands great presence; the setting is casual but dramatically rendered. This is clearly an individual that deserves our attention even as he ignores the camera, seemingly alone with his thoughts and his trademark cigar.

According to Paul’s survey description “…the image is printed on a double-weight gelatin silver paper, which offers an unusually matte surface that somewhat compresses the tonal range and inhibits a sharp rendering of detail. These characteristics are used to great effect in the broad passage of velvety black in the upper left quadrant. The highlight tone, a moderate reddish/yellow, is an original attribute [of the photographic paper] and was also deliberately chosen by the photographer. The color is applied by the paper manufacturer using pigments and dyes added to the baryta coating. Likewise, the pulp used for the paper base has not been overly whitened.” This type of paper and many other photographic papers with diverse, finely tuned visual characteristics were abundant from the 1920s – 1940s. The Weegee portrait is printed on a paper similar to Geveart Velours paper (produced by the Geveart Company of Antwerp, Belgium, beginning in 1933). This paper was advertised as “the most beautiful paper ever made,” due to a unique surface texture that enabled extraordinarily black shadows “unlike any photographic paper before or since” (P. Messier’s 20^th Century Black and White Papers). Such papers were typically used for display and in instances where the expressive intent of the image required a surface evoking other graphic arts media. The 1950s saw a distinct decline in the variety of choices in photographic papers, which worsened considerably in the 1960s. It is common for us now to recognize the look of these early custom surfaces and unique tonalities with a surge of nostalgia and an admiration for how the papers contributed to the emotional interpretation of the images.

It was noticed at the IMA that this portrait of Weegee seems to have a perceptible kinship with a much earlier portrait technology – the intaglio printing technique known as “mezzotint.” This printmaking method first appeared in the 17^th c. as an offshoot of the engraving process. Creating a mezzotint entails the use of special gouging tools called “rockers” that impress tiny, ordered pits into the metal plate surface while raising a soft edge of displaced metal around the depressions. This surface captures an extraordinary amount of oil-based printing ink as it is applied across the plate with a rolling brayer. The plate is selectively burnished to minimize the pitted texture to form the lighter areas within the design. When printed, the ink deposited in the rocker pits is offset to the paper and the result for the areas with a high concentration of pits is a deep, atmospheric black that can look like a dense velvet curtain. The mezzotint technique made possible such a range of tonal values that it was used extensively for copying oil paintings into a print idiom, making wide distribution of the image possible. Mezzotint was most often employed to copy portraits, as this intaglio method offered the most latitude for the tonal subtlety needed to render garment fabrics and facial expression.

William Strang “Portrait of John Masefield,” 1909. Mezzotint chine collé.Carl H. Lieber Fund. 73.98.2.

There is a mezzotint portrait in the IMA collection that fully exploits the capabilities of the technique to produce a print with a broad range of soft tones with subtle transitions, all due to variable densities of ink. The Portrait of John Masefield was brought from storage to compare with the Block photograph of Weegee. Photomicrographs were taken of two similar image passages on the print and the photograph to see if the visual characteristics of the smoky depth achieved by the photograph background and the deepest black of the mezzotint figure’s jacket would prove to be visually similar under high magnification.

Detail of background on Weegee’s portrait. Photomicrograph by Aaron Steele.

Detail near the jacket area of. “Portrait of John Masefield.” Photomicrograph by Aaron Steele.

Both details show a dense, unmodulated field of deep black that allows the texture of the underlying paper fibers to show through. In the figure details (Weegee’s hair and John Masefield’s hand), transitions from one tone to another are soft and form is rendered insubstantial under high magnification. Considering that these are completely dissimilar art processes, it is interesting to observe that the two images share a kindred atmospheric sensibility that favors artistic tonal interplay over a need for documentary precision and hard-edged clarity.

Weegee “Self-Portrait” 1964 Dye Diffusion Transfer Print – Polaroid peel apart system from the early-mid 1960’s.

The second Weegee portrait is was taken by Weegee himself and radiates a side of the photographer that is commonly remembered by his contemporaries: the playful bon vivant, the unabashed voyeur, the individual unafraid of taking the City by the horns and revealing a gleeful undertone to commonplace persons and events parading through his photographs. This small color Polaroid (4 ¼” x 3 ½”) is highly expressive and extroverted, and these qualities are in harmony with the vibrant color pulsing in glossy exuberance from this photographic print. It is mounted on a presentation card provided by Polaroid with a window mat and advertising by Willoughby’s—the photography supply store that provided access to the Polaroid camera that Weegee evidently found irresistible. Willoughby’s is New York City’s oldest camera and photographic supply store, with extant records of founder Charles Willoughby’s business dating back to 1899.  The survival of the commercial presentation card cradling the small Polaroid adds to the appeal of this portrait, placing it in a geographical and historical context that offers an additional layer of meaning in regard to the photographic milieu of this time period.

Image courtesy of Willoughbys.

In 1963, American physicist Edwin Herbert Land developed Polacolor technology, which enabled a full color film to be processed in less than a minute. Weegee worked almost exclusively in black and white, and this small, perhaps impulsive self-portrait (1964) is the only Polaroid and also the only color photograph in the IMA’s Weegee holdings. It is in surprisingly excellent condition, showing clear, intense color, even though “dye stability for Polaroid prints is fairly poor in this period” (P. Messier, IMA Photograph Survey). Our portrait has only a slight hint of the yellowing that is a common occurrence in the white highlights of aging color Polaroids, however the surface is admittedly plagued with numerous oily fingerprints, some of which may have been deposited by Weegee himself.

These two portraits amply reward close observation, and the viewer is easily drawn into tangential musings about Weegee, his legacy, his legend, and the world of 20^th c. photography. The IMA is committed to bringing our photograph collections forward for display more often in the coming years in the hope that our visitors will be repeatedly inspired to meaningful contemplation of the art of photography.

When you look at a photograph in the IMA galleries, do you ever notice the mounts? Maybe not consciously, but your viewing experience is significantly nuanced by the manner of presentation. This is why a great deal of effort and expense goes into preparing photographs for display on our walls. Photographs in the IMA’s collection are usually presented to the public mounted in mats and framed on the wall behind Plexiglas glazing. This is the same way that works on paper, such as prints and drawings, are displayed and this tradition, with some variation, has a history going back several hundred years. Mats serve to both physically support and visually augment the photograph by surrounding it with a serene expanse of paperboard that will focus your attention properly on the power of the photograph held in the center. A frame surrounds the mat and a front pane of glazing, such as glass or acrylic sheeting, offers formidable protection against a variety of ills, including rapid changes in temperature and humidity, air-borne pollutants, and fingerprints deposited by curious visitors. The very large, contemporary photographs are usually not matted, but set directly into frames that are equipped with “spacers” – strips of mat board, or small squared sections of  plastic or painted wood that hold the photograph a respectable distance away from the glazing. It is worrisome when a large photograph sags forward within its frame to touch the glazing; the emulsion (or media surface) could eventually conform to the rigid, textureless material, resulting in an altered sheen in the contact area. Or worse, the photograph could adhere to the glazing, and disengaging the two always carries a high risk of wounding the image surface. But the newest generation of contemporary photographs often dispense with frames altogether – they seem to float on the wall like magic windows into other worlds. These photographs are hovering courtesy of a relatively new presentation system called “face-mounting.”

Face-mounting permanently marries the photograph to the glazing with an interface of synthetic adhesive. Usually, a rigid backing material is similarly adhered to the verso of the photograph, creating a unified package that encases the work completely, supplying strength, support, and unfettered edges. There are visual advantages to this system that are very appealing to artists. With face-mounting, the colors of the photograph appear saturated and lush, and the images are appreciated by viewers as “crystal clear.” As air between a photograph and the glazing has been eliminated, there are no issues of multiple light-reflecting surfaces that can confuse the clear perception of the image. The absence of air can also be considered chemically beneficial to a photograph, both in relation to traditional gelatin emulsions with their cyan, yellow, and magenta dyes and the pigments and dyes deposited in digital printing. The oxygen component of the air has a destabilizing effect on organic molecules, and this includes cellulose (paper) proteins (gelatin) and some classes of colorants. In addition, humid air will cause the damaging reactions to proceed at an accelerated rate. Finally, face-mounted photographs are prevented from distorting, tearing, or suffering from casual accidents that would ordinarily mar its surface; it will never be directly handled again.

Face-Mounted photograph “Yellow Hallway” by James Casebere, 2001 (IMA2003.78). This is one of the earliest face-mounted photographs to enter the IMA collection. It has been shown in our galleries with some regularity, and it remains in excellent condition.

With these virtues in mind, it seems that the conservation community should welcome face-mounting with open arms. However, conservators are a cautious folk, and they never fully trust innovations that have not been observed and judged over significant periods of time. Their first concern is the obvious drawback of having a glazing material that cannot be removed. If the acrylic sheeting becomes scratched or clouded, it cannot simply be replaced – these problems become a permanent part of the artwork, compromising the prized aesthetic qualities expected from face-mounted images. The “protective” nature of glazing the front of the artwork is tempered by the fact that it is now also the aspect of highest vulnerability and it must be zealously protected from harm.

Secondly, there are many questions about the long-term aging behavior of face-mounted photographs that currently have no reliably researched answers within the conservation community:

• How will the adhesives age in response to light and heat?
• Will these adhesives eventually fail?
• Will the different adhesives developed for face-mounting vary in their interactions with the aging images themselves?
• How will all of the components that are in in close, inescapable contact (the acrylic sheet, adhesive, image media, paper [or other material] substrate, and various rigid backing materials) interact with each other over time?
• Will close contact diminish or magnify the effects of damage-inducing catalysts, such as light and heat?
• Does the drying time allowed for a printed image (an hour, a day, a week, a year) before it is face-mounted affect the overall stability of the package?
• Based on aging characteristics, which digital processes are the most or least compatible with the face-mounting adhesives?
• What are the future ramifications of this process for images made with older, less stable digital technologies that collectors decide to have face-mounted?

It could be that the answers to most of these questions would turn out to be encouraging. But the state of not knowing is uncomfortable for conservators. Fortunately, the IMA has received a generous grant from the Institute of Museum and Library Services (IMLS) to fund a detailed condition survey of the state of preservation of all of its photographs, including a significant number of large sized, face-mounted contemporary works. Contracted Photograph Conservator Paul Messier is charged with conducting this survey, and he will also work with IMA scientist Greg D. Smith to launch a microfadeometry study of our Contemporary photograph collection. This analytical technique will help us to understand the fading propensities of digitally printed media in reaction to light, and we will have the opportunity to compare the results for traditionally framed photographs to the data for face-mounted photographs. The testing protocols will be somewhat challenged for the face-mounts, as readings must be taken through the acrylic glass and adhesive layer, but it is expected that this exploration will be a much needed first step in the conservator’s quest to understand the properties and potentials of face-mounted works of art.

In February of 2012, the Indianapolis Museum of Art mounted a works on paper exhibition created by IMA Prints, Drawings & Photographs Curator Marty Krause entitled “Looking West.” This exhibition featured collection prints, drawings, photographs and watercolors by artists of the 19^th & 20^th centuries who were captivated by the scenery and culture of the American West. Two of the photographs chosen for this exhibition were taken out of storage for the first time since their acquisition in 1988. They were listed in the museum’s database as works by Edward Sheriff Curtis and identified as “orotones.”

Edward Sheriff Curtis, “Three Chiefs Piegan,” 1900. Gift of Mrs. Charles E. Rogers. 1988.65

It is one of my responsibilities to inspect every artwork prior to display in our galleries to make sure that there are no compelling condition problems that would require treatment before the installation. The orotones were stored with the oil paintings, hanging high on massive wire mesh storage racks suspended from the ceiling. I had to climb a ladder to reach them, and at the top I leaned forward to remove the archival foamboard light shields that were fitted around their frames to protect them from unnecessary light exposure. What I uncovered were two gleaming images, casting a quiet golden glow that seemed slightly miraculous given the cold illumination provided by the overhead fluorescent lights. The orotones shone as if lit by internal church candles, and I was immediately intrigued by the beauty and presence achieved by this esoteric photographic process.

Edward Sheriff Curtis, “The Vanishing Race,” 1904. Gift of Mrs. Charles E. Rogers. 1988.66.

Edward Sheriff Curtis was both prominent and prolific in the history of orotone images. His most famous endeavor involved amassing a documentary record of Native American cultures through staged scenes and portraiture, and the use of this particular technique enhanced the romantic appeal of this body of work. The IMA photographs are entitled Three Chiefs, Piegan and The Vanishing Race. They were in identical frames of gilded wood with decorative corner elements, and I came to learn that these were a common type of frame associated with Curtis’s work, personally selected to properly enhance and dignify his images.

Detail: lower left corner of the frame belonging to “Three Chiefs Piegan.”

What are orotones? This turned out to be a much more complicated question than anticipated. Other names for them include Goldtones and Curt-tones, the latter term coined by Curtis himself. The Latin word for gold is aurum, approximated by the prefix ‘oro’ which seems an obvious reference to the golden appearance of the images. This has lead to the misunderstanding that all orotones utilize actual metallic gold within the process. In truth, Curtis’s orotones were created by projecting a photographic negative onto a glass plate that had been pre-coated with a silver-gelatin emulsion, thereby creating a ‘positive’ image. The image was developed and fixed, and the emulsion was then coated with a layer of ‘bronzing powders mixed with banana oil’ to produce a backing color that enabled the highlights and shadows to be discernible, thus rendering the image readable. The ‘bronzing powders’ (metallic powders in a liquid carrier) were probably variable mixtures, but in Curtis’s work, they have been found to contain copper and zinc (note: bronze is technically defined as an alloy of copper and tin; copper and zinc are the components of brass). This metal combination was confirmed at the IMA through a brief scan using a handheld X-ray fluorescence spectrometer. The ‘banana oil’ is amyl acetate in acetone and benzene, with the addition of a small amount of proxylin, which is a cellulose nitrate lacquer. The amyl acetate solvent is produced synthetically, but it has the distinct smell and taste of bananas, which explains the persistent use of the term ‘banana oil.’ It takes a great deal of skill to lay this coating over the emulsion flawlessly, which may help to explain the relative rarity of this process and Curtis’ justifiable pride in his mastery of the technique. He is even thought to have modified the materials to gain the precise aesthetic that he wanted, although this speculation has not been well documented.

Now that we understood what orotones were, we knew that we needed to re-examine our stewardship practices surrounding them to make sure that we were giving them the care they needed in order to survive into the distant future. It is very fortunate that we have the advice of visiting photograph conservator Paul Messier (which I wrote about here), contracted by the IMA for a condition survey of all collection photographs through a generous grant from the Institute of Museum and Library Services (IMLS). The following information is excerpted from Paul’s survey of The Three Chiefs, Piegan:

About Orotones

The object is properly described as an “orotone.” The photographic image is rendered as a positive transparency on the glass plate. The image is silver-based, bound to the glass with a gelatin emulsion. The unprocessed / unexposed gelatin glass plate would have been commercially prepared. Once the positive image was exposed onto the plate and then developed, fixed and dried, the emulsion surface was coated with bronze powders evenly dispersed in a binder [this would be the ‘banana oil’ so often mentioned in the literature; however, Paul suspects that other substances were sometimes used]. The binder medium varies and, at times, it can remain somewhat tacky. Quite often the plates are backed with a lightweight paperboard sometimes affixed to the plate with a paper tape. The Art Nouveau/Arts and Crafts frame is typical for Curtis orotones and is original and intrinsic to the piece.

What Can Go Wrong

Typical problems with orotones are separations or flaking of the bronze powder layer from the reverse. Attempts at consolidating such defects can be disastrous and should be avoided at all costs (the consolidating medium penetrates into the gelatin and between the layers, altering the refractive index of all layers and causing a dark, irreversible, stain). Careful handling and leaving any backing board found on the reverse undisturbed are crucial for avoiding such separations.

Cleaning the Glass Surface

An important and often neglected fact is that the glass surface is the primary support for the photograph. To the extent possible, the glass surface should be cleaned using dry methods, as liquids can seep around the edge of the plate and disturb the adhesion between the various layers.

Transporting Orotones

The object is extremely fragile. The glass is intrinsically delicate and the adhesion between the bronze powder layer and the gelatin emulsion is easily disturbed. Orotones should not travel unless it is absolutely necessary [due to the dangers of travel-induced vibration]

Storage

Rack storage with required light shields. [Note: temperature and humidity extremes should be avoided]

Display

5-7 FC (footcandles, about 50 LUX) with limited duration. Light intensity and duration of exposure should be recorded [as light-induced damage is cumulative].

I am personally delighted to have discovered the world of orotones. They have a beauty that is unique and captivating, and a look at several photographic forums online reveal that contemporary photographers are beginning to stride into the challenges of this process. I would like to give Edward S. Curtis the last word in this blog: he described the wonder of orotones [here called Curt-tones] in this famous passage that he penned for a brochure advertising his studio in 1903:

“The ordinary photographic print, however good, lacks depth and transparency, or more strictly speaking, translucency. We all know how beautiful are the stones and pebbles in the limpid brook of the forest where water absorbs the blue of the sky and the green of the foliage, yet when we take the same iridescent pebbles from the water and dry them they are dull and lifeless, so it is with the ordinary photographic print, but in the Curt-tones all the translucency is retained and they are as full of life and sparkle as an opal.”

As the sunlight faded, the music started and the lanterns were lit. The large crowd gathered on the south side of the lake to watch the lanterns be released. Some had messages written on them to honor a “ghost” such as, “We miss you Grandpa,” while others were decorated with colorful illustrations. I documented this animated GIF (Graphics Interchange Format)as the lanterns were being launched into the blue night.

Typically at this time of year, I am planning April and May photography dates for our historic grounds and gardens, 100 Acres Art and Nature Park, and the Miller House and Garden in Columbus, Indiana.

The absence of any substantial winter weather in the state, combined with spring temperatures ten to twelve degrees higher for the month of March, has produced an accelerated blooming and photography season.

The transition to daylight savings time on the 11^th, in conjunction with the vernal equinox on the 20^th, and summer like heat of the past two weeks, has created a perfect storm of urgency for photographers.

The most pressing concern was the quick budding and blooming of our lovely magnolias on the east and south locations of the Miller House. A missed blooming season, albeit a short one, means waiting another year to capture these lovelies at their peak and the threat of a cold front or good spring rainstorm made my decision an easy one. April be damned, I’m all in.

Timing, patience, and good light are everything in photography, and my early morning visit to Columbus this week provided another uniquely pleasant experience to photograph a visually diverse residence, inside and out.

Each visit is more compelling and interesting than the previous and I can’t help but imagine how wonderful it must have been to live and flourish as children in these spaces.

These images of the magnolia blooms were captured on the first day of Spring. The Miller House and Garden is now open for tours, so get down there and experience this all-too-fleeting moment for yourself.

As a birthday present to IMA photographers, we are giving those of you purchasing a one year pass the gift of FREE parking! Did you say FREE??? Why, yes, yes I did!!

We know that the first year had a few bumps and bruises along the way, so, we’ve listened to your feedback and are making changes that we hope will make the second year run smoothly. Many photographers noted how inexpensive the one year rate was and that they would be willing to pay a higher rate for the opportunity to use the lovely backdrop of the IMA. Crazy talk, I know, but in comparison to many other locations across Indianapolis and the country, $250 for the entire year, with virtually no restrictions on when or how many times you could be here, was a steal. A number of photographers also expressed concern when paid parking was announced this past fall that you would have to pay not only for your photo pass, but also pay to park every time you had a shoot here. With both of these points in mind, the one year fee has been increased but will have the added benefit of FREE parking.

A few highlights and things to keep in mind about the Photo Policy:

• One Year Photography Pass rate is increasing to $400.
• The pass will still cover two named photographers from a single company.
• Each additional photographer will still cost $100 to add.
• Badges will be changing to include a head shot of the pass holder.
• FREE PARKING: With the rate increase to $400, one year pass holders’ badges will now include a barcode that permits them to park for free in the pay lots. Your clients arriving in separate vehicles will still have to pay for parking, unless they are a member of the Museum or are utilizing one of the over 170 free parking spots at the Museum.
• One Day Photography Passes will remain at the rate of $50 per day.

As always, please feel free to contact the Rights and Reproductions Department if you have any questions, concerns, or would like to send a birthday present to the Photo Policy (it particularly likes chocolate).

Happy First Birthday to the Photo Policy (and Theo)!

For those of you who have a taste for the technical and an appreciation of process, begin reading here:

Art Directed Photography

Unfortunately for me (and I would argue the patron), this is what I get to do the least.

Art Directed photography requires a fair amount pre-planning and time to explore an approach to photography of an object or setting.  It requires the input of multiple parties, is of high quality, and has a distinct “look” to the final image.  These images are generally intended for more targeted uses in magazine and catalogues.

The images below of Alberto Meda’s Light-Light chair were taken with a Mamiya 645D and a Phase One P45 digital back. The inspiration came from our Senior Curator of Design Arts Craig Miller, who wanted to focus on the texture of the material. The silhouette of the chair legs emerges from the darkness to reveal the back and the carbon fiber texture.

Alberto Media, "Light-Light chair (prototype)," 1988, carbon fiber and Nomex composite. Purchased with funds provided by James E. and Patricia J. LaCrosse.

Here’s another example of an art directed photo shoot:

Allesandro Mendini and Alessandro Guerriero, "Side chair from Ollo Collection,"1988, plastic, laminate. Frank Curtis Springer and Irving Moxley Springer Purchase Fund. © Alessandro Guerriero.

Publication Photography

Occurring much more frequently than art directed projects, publication photography is what you will typically find me doing day to day. It generally consists of high quality documentation photography, which requires more setup time and use of higher end equipment. The background may be white or gradated. Publication photography fulfills the need of catalogues and other external requests that require large image sizes.

Below are images of a more straightforward nature.  A generic gradient background is used rather than something more dramatic. Therefore the background or lighting does not become a distraction or a more obvious component of the image.  We have recently moved away from using the gradients.  Much of our work is shot on a plain white background to give all the attention to the art object.

Documentation Photography
This approach is similar to publication photography, however the intended results are more focused on a specific collection.  The drive behind this type of photography is to get a clear visual record of the object.

 Documentation photography is a systematic approach to photographing objects in the collection. The image is captured in a very generic setting (usually with a white background). Although quick snapshots can also be utilized as documentation, the goal of the Publishing & Media department is to acquire a clean, representative image of the work of art.  The resulting image can then be utilized for 80-90% of image needs (small press, newspaper, online, magazine, some catalogue uses).

We tend to create these images with Canon 5D Mark IIs and similar full frame digital cameras. A group of photographers are usually involved with any systematic documentation of the collection, along with staff from other departments coordinating the object movements.  See image below:

The role of the museum photographer is an exciting and rewarding one, and – as with many jobs in the museum – you frequently have the opportunity to get up-close with a variety of artwork.  And as a photographer, we get to see the work in its best light.  Future posts from me will be dealing with specific objects and how we shoot them, including images of our setup and some trial and error photographs, if I can get them by our editor.  Stay tuned!

As one of the two photographers here at the IMA, I am responsible for capturing the IMA galleries in a similar fashion.  At times I capture galleries alive with its patrons.  At other times I document for posterity the space free of human distraction.  I, as those participating in my questionnaire, enjoy seeing the galleries in various degrees of these states – the sole visitor reflecting on a work of art, the mass of humanity flowing between its walls, the gallery alone asking us to reflect on the images presented, or the gallery free of any artwork or person and completely desolate.

Below are a few of those images and the responses from the photographers.  If you are interested in the photographs presented, please follow the gallery series on Flickr.

 Witold Riedel:
Witold Riedel is a creative director at one of the largest advertising networks in the world. He is responsible for a worldwide campaign, which “involves a good amount of travel.”

This image was included in the “Trapped In The White Cube” series. An excerpt from Witold’s responses to the questionnaire is below:

(via Flickr)

 What made you capture and share the image you created?

Are we talking about the picture of the nun and the dinosaur? Oh, it was just a very sweet moment at the Museum Mensch und Natur in Nymphenburg, in Munich. I had missed my flight to Moscow on that day and after visiting the BMW Welt, Nymphenburg felt like the perfect contrast. The room was very small, I had to be close to the nun to take the picture. I only had one chance to expose the photograph without disturbing the composition. I was lucky. I had set the exposure and aperture and the focus on my Leica correctly. I like that there are some parallels in the expression of the dinosaur and the nun. The picture is certainly not intended as cultural criticism. I have nothing against dinosaurs or the Catholic Church.

What type of museum objects do you enjoy the most?

I like to return to some not very loved paintings, just to discover that I have changed more than they have. And I also like to see that they are still there, in their own place. Or maybe in a new place.

I  used to stand next to the Mona Lisa at the Louvre sometimes and just look at the people coming to visit. I actually have two photo series about this on my old website. It was interesting how many visitors were not actually interested in the work, they were more interested in having a picture taken with the work. It really is about that connection sometimes. The Mona Lisa is now in a different place within the Louvre. It is now easier to take pictures with her. But it is much more difficult to see her. That might be one of the reasons why I prefer the not so loved paintings sometimes. Though they obviously must be incredibly special already, just to make it to the galleries. What percentage of the work never makes it out of storage? Some museums have created galleries that feel almost like open storage. I like that idea quite a bit.

XAM+ANNA:
XAM+ANNA are actually Massimiliano Matera and Annalisa Pilati, two aspiring architects, and a couple in life and work.  They live in Rome, which is its own “open-air museum.”

This image was included in the “Trapped In The White Cube” series and here’s an excerpt from XAM+ANNA’s responses to the questionnaire below:

(via Flickr)

What made you capture and share the image you created?

The photo creates a relation between the space and the visitors, with specific references from the art world (see works of contemporary artist such as Vito Acconci and Michelangelo Pistoletto, for example). For us, the link between spectator and artwork is fundamental and our research tends to show the reactions of the spectator, making him an integral part (then actor) of a new form of art, in which he’s the protagonist.

Vileinist:
Vileinist, a.k.a. Jonathan O’Reilly is a Faculty Researcher at University of Maryland lives in Washington D.C.

(via Flickr)

What made you capture and share the image you created?

It was an interesting piece of work. You can expect avant-garde art at the Hirshhorn Museum, but this was something quite unique. When I turned the corner into the room, I was taken aback by the visual display – swirling curves of light were dancing across the wall to a soundtrack of pure silence. There were no distractions in the room, just the projector and the wall. There was a lone person looking at the piece in a state of wonder. Her placement in the frame helped me create an image that helped to reflect my own feeling of awe. An image of the piece by itself would not have been as surreal. In general, I like to photograph humans not as primary subjects, but rather as accessories to accentuate proportions or my own feelings in a given setting.

I first became aware of Hanneorla around 2007 when I was looking for Flickr users that were photographing artworks on the grounds of the IMA.  The set made for the IMA has 61 images in it and most of the contemporary outdoor artworks are documented. Although the sheer number of photos is impressive, what also interested me is the way the photos were taken: many of the works are shown from multiple sides, demonstrating that Hanneorla is skilled at looking carefully at art.

It was also around this time when Clay Shirky was getting a lot of attention for talking about how the Internet was ideally suited for us to spend our cognitive surplus doing something productive, rather than just watching television in the evening (Shirky estimates today this cognitive surplus is around a trillion hours a year for the adult population in the developed world).  Trying to harness but a sliver of a thumbnail of this surplus, we created the Wikipedia-and-Flickr-based project Wikiproject Public Art. While this continues to slowly grow, I’m always on the lookout for museum-based projects that tap into the cognitive surplus in a meaningful way.

So, to get to know the most productive art photographer in world better, I invited Hanneorla here for a discussion.

Richard McCoy: Will you tell me about your user name?

Hanneorla: We are a wife/husband team, so Hanneorla = wife (Hanne) + Orla (husband).  Original name, eh?

RM: What is your training as photographers?

HO: Well, we don’t have any. Our work has really been learning by doing all along.

We got our first digital camera in 2002 as a wedding present (a somewhat bulky Canon thingy) and were fascinated by the then-novel prospect that you could just shoot away, transfer, save, and view the images on a PC.  I remember taking our first digital pictures at a Gay Pride Parade in San Diego, standing on a chair in front of a café and trying to focus on the floats and (of course) the spectators.

Gay Pride Parade, Hillcrest, San Diego, California. Image: Hanneorla.

But we really got into photography when planning a trip to Santiago, Chile. Hanne was trying to find good images on the web of Santiago, but could only come up with old grainy ones.  We decided to take matters into our own finger-clicking hands, only to have our camera stolen on the last day in Santiago by a couple of very fast running teenagers. So from our debut as awesome globe-trotting photographers we don’t have a single shot!

RM: Can you talk about your favorite subject or photographic theme?

HO: We started out with a deep interest in modern architecture, especially skyscrapers and we still photograph those if they are spectacular enough.  Having been to places like Hong Kong, Singapore, and of course Shanghai, we have seen a few really breathtaking examples. Of course we also have images of a lot of boring bank buildings.

We have often been seen squatting on the pavement in front of a building pointing the camera towards the sky—and enduring people looking at us like we’re cuckoo.

UOB, Singapore. Image: Hanneorla.

RM: Do you remember when and why you first started uploading images to Flickr?

HO: That’s easy; it was in August of 2005. And why Flickr? Well, a friend found the site and thought it might be a good idea, so we checked it out and have been using it ever since.

RM: I really love the fact that you spend so much time creating detailed captions and descriptions for every single photo you upload, which makes your images tremendously useful to folks interested in the arts, and easy to find through search.  Can you talk about your methodology and purpose for this?

HO: That’s the hard and time-consuming part. Before we go anywhere, I (Hanne) spend many (really many!) hours researching the location, especially about sculptures (public and private), art museums, private galleries, and architecture.

I eventually collect the pictures and descriptions of all these objects in our own “guidebook,” so we know what to look for and where.  At this point, Orla usually groans when seeing this phonebook-sized guide book, or “to do list,” but usually ends up appreciating the research when we are on location!  But on many occasions, we have been out driving for hours and getting lost a lot before we find some measly piece of rusty iron that looked like a cutting-edge sculpture in our homemade guidebook!  After having gotten used to GPS technology we now find the artworks a lot faster. We often thank God (or whoever it is) in the sky for leading us in the right directions.

One thing that really irks us though (start of rant!): If you are a city, business, or person that commissions an outdoor sculpture or architectural masterpiece: maintain it and keep it clean!  In other words: TAKE CARE OF IT!  Many South American countries fail at this, as do several Southern European ones. For example, the absolutely magnificent Oscar Niemeyer-designed capital, Brasilia.  It’s a daring beauty in concrete.  A true wonder.  But it is dirty, unkempt, and really a disgrace. I think I’ll write to the new female president Dilma Rousseff and complain. Hey, they have enough money now, and certainly also well-deserved national pride. Asian countries are much better at this and they also have the courage to ask the most progressive artists (yeah, we know about Ai Weiwei and censorship), but modern Chinese art is a unique experience. And we cannot forget: The U.S. also generally has good maintenance of its outdoor artworks.  (Okay, end of our rant on that.)

RM: According to your Flickr stats, you’ve taken and uploaded 41,491 items.  This is beyond impressive.  Can you talk about why you like photographing art and museums?

HO: Allow me to quote from the Flickr profile:  “I am fascinated by contemporary visual art, cutting-edge sculpture, modern architecture, and futuristic designs.  To me the power of art is that it creates concepts and ’becomings’ intellectually and aesthetically. I’m always searching for the shock and delight of the new.”

About our ridiculously high number of photos: Well, it almost looks like a neurotic obsession, doesn’t it?  But it’s driven by pure delight and excitement.  Case in point: after having walked, and in the end crawled, for many miles in Valencia, Spain, we were suddenly dancing, footloose and fancy free, when we saw the contours of Santiago Calatrava’s City of Arts and Sciences.

Here are some more numbers: this week we passed 7,100,000 view counts of our images on Flickr. Boy, that’s more people than live in our own country of Denmark!

Hemisférico, Museo de las Ciencias Príncipe Felipe, Ciudad de las Artes y Ciencias, arquitecto Santiago Calatrava 1998 y 2000, Valencia, Spain. Image: Hanneorla.

RM: Will you talk a little more about the division of labor in your documentation work?  Who takes the photos, who uploads the images and who writes about them?  Do you each do a little of this or does one person?

HO: Well, Hanne is the slave. She does all the hard work pre and post. I play the Nietzschean part of the mastermentality while really being the slave. When we started out I usually said, “Why are you taking pictures of THAT, I already photographed it.” And she (very sensibly) replied, “Yeah, but sometimes your images are better than mine, and (most often) mine are better than yours”. So we both take pictures of the same pieces of art and then select the best shots to put up on Flickr.

RM: What if there were, say, 25 Hanneorlas out there documenting art and museums?  That would mean right now there would be approximately 1 million images about art and museums.

HO: That’s a great idea. Google Art Project is trying something, and they are to be commended for their efforts, but so far they have only about 12 museums.  It’s a good start. I guess we are trying to create a global, virtual universe of art. Presumptuous? Yes, of course! But we’re doing the best we can. We just need the 24 other Hanneorlas.

(Another rant!) Why, oh, why is it that so many museums around the globe are stuck in the digital Stone Age? Why don’t they allow visitors to take photos of their art? Instead they have these clueless bosses and guards clumsily preventing excited people (the Hanneorlas of the world) from sharing and spreading the pleasure of art!  We will drive MORE PEOPLE to visit your museums and boost your ticket sales and reputation by wetting the appetite of the more than 7 million people who have looked at our pictures from YOUR museum on our Flickr site. (Yes, we’re exaggerating a bit, but a LOT of people will get to know your museum—think about it).  We just don’t get it!

RM: Do you think it possible for there to be a kind of crowd-sourced documentation project in which all of the world’s art is documented by individuals?

HO: Oh, yes. Let’s just corral a couple of dozen Hanneorlas.

RM: Okay, this is a cruel question, but what would happen if Flickr suddenly went away and your account ceased to exist (as rumors have suggested might happen)?

HO: OMG! You mean a virtual Armageddon? Well, we have about 80% of our Flickr pictures on DVDs, so we might survive.

RM: Another tough question: Out of all of your photos can you come up with a top 10?

HO: Any of our many photos of the works of Claes Oldenburg, Fernando Bottero, Santiago Calatrava, Oscar Niemeyer, photorealistic painters, Chinese sculpture, and Tom Otterness. Plus a few more hundreds.

Claes Oldenburg 1976 "Clothespin," Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Image: Hanneorla.

RM: Care to say where you are going next?

HO: We’re already packing. We’re off to Paris, France. And probably thousands more photos.  And the hard part we forgot to mention: The demanding work after we get home. We have to do a lot of organizing, indexing, and captioning of the pictures which takes up an enormous amount of time. We are always two or three trips behind. Let’s see, there are Sao Paulo, Brazil, Dallas, Texas, and Iowa plus a few other states to do.  We need another holiday!