An Archive of Iconic Photos from the Golden Age of Jazz: William Gottlieb’s Portraits of Dizzy, Thelonious, Billie, Satchmo & More

If you’ve seen the most famous pho­tographs of Bil­lie Hol­i­day, Dizzy Gille­spie, Thelo­nious Monk, Frank Sina­tra, Djan­go Rein­hardt, or near­ly any oth­er jazz leg­end from the mid-20th cen­tu­ry, you’ve seen the work of William P. Got­tlieb. His pho­tos have graced many a clas­sic album cov­er, mag­a­zine spread, and poster. “Between 1938 and 1948,” writes Maria Popo­va, Got­tlieb “doc­u­ment­ed the jazz scene in New York City and Wash­ing­ton, D.C., and cre­at­ed what even­tu­al­ly became some of history’s most icon­ic por­traits of jazz greats.” He ini­tial­ly did so as a self-taught ama­teur, a jazz colum­nist whose pho­tog­ra­phy was “an after­thought,” notes Gottlieb’s 2006 Wash­ing­ton Post obit­u­ary,” mere visu­al accom­pa­ni­ment to his reg­u­lar work.”

As Got­tlieb once told The New York Times, “I got into pho­tog­ra­phy because The Post was stingy and wouldn’t pay pho­tog­ra­phers to cov­er my 11 o’clock con­certs.” But he devel­oped an unde­ni­ably keen eye for per­for­mance.

What’s more, his work is deeply informed by affec­tion and empa­thy. Got­tlieb was an artist who had warm rela­tion­ships with his sub­jects. He took the pho­to at the top, per­haps the most famous image of Bil­lie Hol­i­day, in 1947, when the singer “was at her peak,” he wrote, “musi­cal­ly and physically”—two years clean and sober after her time in a fed­er­al prison.

“Regret­tably,” he writes, “Bil­lie regressed.” Got­tlieb tells the heart­break­ing sto­ry of the last time he went to see her. The “audi­ence wait­ed… and wait­ed.” The pho­tog­ra­ph­er, “play­ing a hunch,” went back­stage to find her “pret­ty much ‘out of it.’”

I helped her fin­ish dress­ing, then led her to the micro­phone. She looked hor­ri­ble. She sound­ed worse. I replaced my note­book in my pock­et, put a lens cap on my cam­era, and walked away, choos­ing to remem­ber this remark­able woman as she once was.

Most of Gottlieb’s sto­ries are not near­ly so trag­ic. Take his last run-in with Louis Arm­strong, at their den­tist office’s wait­ing room. “After small talk,” he wrote, “Satch­mo looked me over, decid­ing I, too, had been gain­ing weight. He reached into his jack­et pock­et, pulled out a print­ed diet (that he kept for friends-in-need), and hand­ed me a copy. ‘Pops,’ he said, ‘try this.’ I quick­ly not­ed that it fea­tured Plu­to Water [a lax­a­tive]. But I thanked him, any­way.”

Got­tlieb retired from pho­tog­ra­phy and jazz writ­ing in the fifties and made a career as a children’s book author and edu­ca­tion­al film pro­duc­er. In 1979, he pub­lished 219 of his best pho­tographs in a book called The Gold­en Age of Jazz, and in 2010, much of Gottlieb’s work entered the pub­lic domain, accord­ing to The Library of Con­gress (LOC). You can see hun­dreds of his photographs—famous images like those of Sarah Vaugh­an, fur­ther up, Thelo­nious Monk, above, Bud­dy Rich, below, and so many more—at the Library of Congress’s online William P. Got­tlieb Col­lec­tion. The LOC describes the col­lec­tion thus:

The online col­lec­tion pro­vides access to dig­i­tal images of all six­teen hun­dred neg­a­tives and trans­paren­cies, approx­i­mate­ly one hun­dred anno­tat­ed con­tact prints, and over two hun­dred select­ed pho­to­graph­ic prints that show Got­tlieb’s crop­ping, burn­ing, and dodg­ing pref­er­ences. One can fol­low the artist’s work process by exam­in­ing first a raw neg­a­tive, then an anno­tat­ed con­tact print, and final­ly a fin­ished, pub­lished prod­uct. The Web site also includes dig­i­tal images of Down Beat mag­a­zine arti­cles in which Got­tlieb’s pho­tographs were first pub­lished. Oth­er spe­cial fea­tures of the online pre­sen­ta­tion are audio clips of Got­tlieb dis­cussing spe­cif­ic pho­tographs, arti­cles about the col­lec­tion from Civ­i­liza­tion mag­a­zine and the Library of Con­gress Infor­ma­tion Bul­letin, an essay describ­ing Got­tlieb’s life and work, and a “Got­tlieb on Assign­ment” sec­tion that show­cas­es Down Beat arti­cles about Thelo­nious Monk, Dar­d­anelle, Willie “the Lion” Smith, and Bud­dy Rich.

You can also down­load high res­o­lu­tion ver­sions of near­ly every image in the archive. (To pur­chase prints, see Got­tlieb’s online gallery, Jazz Pho­tos.) There may be no bet­ter way, short of actu­al­ly being there and meet­ing the stars, to wit­ness the gold­en age of jazz than through the eyes and ears of such a sym­pa­thet­ic observ­er as William P. Got­tlieb. Enter the col­lec­tion here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hear 2,000 Record­ings of the Most Essen­tial Jazz Songs: A Huge Playlist for Your Jazz Edu­ca­tion

Stan­ley Kubrick’s Jazz Pho­tog­ra­phy and The Film He Almost Made About Jazz Under Nazi Rule

How “America’s First Drug Czar” Waged War Against Bil­lie Hol­i­day and Oth­er Jazz Leg­ends

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Eadweard Muybridge’s 1870s Photographs of Galloping Horses Get Encoded on the DNA of Living Bacteria Cells


If you’ve ever stud­ied the his­to­ry of pho­tog­ra­phy, you’ve inevitably encoun­tered Ead­weard Muybridge’s exper­i­ments from the 1870s, which used new inno­va­tions in pho­tog­ra­phy to answer a sim­ple ques­tion: When a horse trots, do all four of its hooves ever leave the ground at once? The ques­tion piqued the curios­i­ty of Leland Stan­ford, for­mer gov­er­nor of Cal­i­for­nia and co-founder of Stan­ford Uni­ver­si­ty. And so, as Col­in Mar­shall pre­vi­ous­ly not­ed here, he “called on an Eng­lish pho­tog­ra­ph­er named Ead­weard Muy­bridge, known for his work in such then-cut­ting-edge sub­fields as time-lapse and stere­og­ra­phy, and tasked him with fig­ur­ing it out. Using a series of cam­eras acti­vat­ed by trip wires as the horse trot­ted past, Muy­bridge proved that all four of its hooves do indeed leave the ground, win­ning Stan­ford the wager.” You can watch the footage result­ing from that exper­i­ment below.

Above, you can also see the strange new after­life of that same footage. Accord­ing to the Nation­al Insti­tute of Men­tal Health:

For the first time, [Muybridge’s] movie has been encod­ed in – and then played back from – DNA in liv­ing cells. Sci­en­tists fund­ed by the Nation­al Insti­tutes of Health say it is a major step toward a “mol­e­c­u­lar recorder” that may some­day make it pos­si­ble to get read-outs, for exam­ple, of the chang­ing inter­nal states of neu­rons as they devel­op. Neu­ro­sci­en­tist Seth Ship­man, Ph.D., of Har­vard Med­ical School, explains the study.

Ulti­mate­ly, this exper­i­ment demon­strates the “pow­er to turn liv­ing cells into dig­i­tal data ware­hous­es,” writes Wired. Ship­man does a good job of unpack­ing the study. Read more about it over at this NIH web­site.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ead­weard Muybridge’s Motion Pho­tog­ra­phy Exper­i­ments from the 1870s Pre­sent­ed in 93 Ani­mat­ed Gifs

See the First Known Pho­to­graph Ever Tak­en (1826)

Behold the Very First Col­or Pho­to­graph (1861): Tak­en by Scot­tish Physi­cist (and Poet!) James Clerk Maxwell

Free Online Biol­o­gy Cours­es

London in Vivid Color 125 Years Ago: See Trafalgar Square, the British Museum, Tower Bridge & Other Famous Landmarks in Photocrom Prints

“When a man is tired of Lon­don,” Samuel John­son so famous­ly said, “he is tired of life.” Of course, P.J. O’Rourke lat­er added that “he might just be tired of shab­by, sad crowds, low-income hous­ing that looks worse than the weath­er, and tat­too-faced, spike-haired pea brains on the dole,” but then, every­one expe­ri­ences the Eng­lish cap­i­tal a bit dif­fer­ent­ly. John­son’s Lon­don, the Lon­don of the eigh­teenth cen­tu­ry, looks to some like a city at its zenith; oth­ers might even think the same about the Lon­don O’Rourke made fun of in the 1980s. Every era in Lon­don is a gold­en age to some­one.

Today, we offer a vivid glimpse into anoth­er dis­tinct peri­od in Lon­don his­to­ry, the late nine­teenth cen­tu­ry, by way of the Library of Con­gress’ col­lec­tion of pho­tocrom prints. A few years ago we fea­tured images of Venice cap­tured with the same col­orized-pho­tog­ra­phy process, which pro­duced what the Library of Con­gress describes as ink-based images made with “the direct pho­to­graph­ic trans­fer of an orig­i­nal neg­a­tive onto litho and chro­mo­graph­ic print­ing plates.”

They may “look decep­tive­ly like col­or pho­tographs,” but “when viewed with a mag­ni­fy­ing glass the small dots that com­prise the ink-based pho­to­me­chan­i­cal image are vis­i­ble. The pho­to­me­chan­i­cal process per­mit­ted mass pro­duc­tion of the vivid col­or prints.”

The late nine­teenth and ear­ly twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry saw the emer­gence of a robust mar­ket for pho­tocrom prints, “sold at tourist sites and through mail order cat­a­logs to globe trot­ters, arm­chair trav­el­ers, edu­ca­tors, and oth­ers to pre­serve in albums or put on dis­play.” Hence, per­haps, the focus on Lon­don sites of touris­tic appeal: Tow­er Bridge, Trafal­gar Square, the British Muse­um, and even the ful­ly out­fit­ted “Yeo­man of the Guard” you see just above. But print also (and by appear­ances more cor­rect­ly) describes him as a “Beefeater,” the pop­u­lar name for the dif­fer­ent body of cer­e­mo­ni­al tow­er guardians the Yeomen Warders of Her Majesty’s Roy­al Palace and Fortress the Tow­er of Lon­don, and Mem­bers of the Sov­er­eign’s Body Guard of the Yeo­man Guard Extra­or­di­nary. (Got that?)

You can browse, and in var­i­ous for­mats down­load, the 33 images in the Library of Con­gress’ Lon­don pho­tocrom print col­lec­tion here. They all date from between 1890 and 1900, as do the near­ly 1000 images in their Eng­land pho­tocrom print col­lec­tion, whose loca­tions extend far beyond Lon­don. Go to Eng­land today and you’ll notice how much has changed in the past 125 or so years, of course, but how much has­n’t. Grum­bling being some­thing of a nation­al sport over there, espe­cial­ly in Lon­don, the trav­el­er hears no end of com­plaints about how the city and coun­try have gone to the dogs, but can also take some com­fort in the fact that, even back in the pic­turesque pho­tocrom era, peo­ple were air­ing all the same gripes.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Prize-Win­ning Ani­ma­tion Lets You Fly Through 17th Cen­tu­ry Lon­don

1927 Lon­don Shown in Mov­ing Col­or

Lon­don Mashed Up: Footage of the City from 1924 Lay­ered Onto Footage from 2013

2,000 Years of London’s His­tor­i­cal Devel­op­ment, Ani­mat­ed in 7 Min­utes

Venice in Beau­ti­ful Col­or Images 125 Years Ago: The Rial­to Bridge, St. Mark’s Basil­i­ca, Doge’s Palace & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

See What Happens When a Camera’s Shutter Speed Gets Perfectly Synced with a Helicopter’s Rotor

Ger­man cam­era­man Chris Fay recent­ly post­ed on YouTube a neat video show­ing what hap­pens when the frames per sec­ond on a cam­era and the speed of a heli­copter rotor are per­fect­ly aligned. The heli­copter blades appear not to rotate at all. And the heli­copter hov­ers mag­i­cal­ly in the air. Even if you know the mechan­ics of the illu­sion, it’s still fun to watch!

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via PetaPix­el

Relat­ed Con­tent:

An Intro­duc­tion to Dig­i­tal Pho­tog­ra­phy: Take a Free Course from Stan­ford Prof/Google Researcher Marc Lev­oy

Vis­it a New Dig­i­tal Archive of 2.2 Mil­lion Images from the First Hun­dred Years of Pho­tog­ra­phy

Hol­ly­wood by Heli­copter, 1958

Watch Karl­heinz Stockhausen’s Great Heli­copter String Quar­tet, Star­ring 4 Musi­cians, 4 Cam­eras & 4 Copters

Visit a New Digital Archive of 2.2 Million Images from the First Hundred Years of Photography

Loya: Val­ley of the Yosemite (The Sen­tinel), c. 1867 – c. 1872. Ead­weard Muy­bridge. Rijksmu­se­um. Pub­lic Domain.

Inter­est­ed in pho­tog­ra­phy? You’re in the right place. Over the years, we’ve com­piled free class­es on dig­i­tal pho­tog­ra­phy, hun­dreds of pho­tog­ra­phy lec­tures, cours­es on pho­tog­ra­phy appre­ci­a­tion, and doc­u­men­taries on famous greats like Alfred Stieglitz, Diane Arbus, Edward West­on, and Hen­ri Carti­er-Bres­son. You can learn the his­to­ry of pho­tog­ra­phy in “five ani­mat­ed min­utes,” see the ven­er­a­ble art of tin­type recre­at­ed, and vis­it archives from the Sovi­et Union, the col­lec­tion of George East­man, and the work of pio­neer­ing motion pho­tog­ra­ph­er Ead­weard Muy­bridge (ani­mat­ed in 93 GIFs).

Still not enough? How about a dig­i­tal library of 2.2 mil­lion images from the his­to­ry of pho­tog­ra­phy? Euro­peana Col­lec­tions just launched its “lat­est the­mat­ic col­lec­tion,” Euro­peana Pho­tog­ra­phy, which, notes Dou­glas McCarthy at the site’s blog, “includes images and doc­u­ments from 50 Euro­pean insti­tu­tions in 34 dif­fer­ent coun­tries.”

Stun­ning land­scapes like that of Muybridge’s Loya: Val­ley of the Yosemite, above, and work from oth­er inno­va­tors like Julia Mar­garet Cameron, below, rep­re­sent high­lights of the archive’s dig­i­tal scans from the first 100 years of pho­tog­ra­phy.

Lilie, 1898–1903. Wil­helm Weimar. Muse­um für Kun­st und Gewerbe Ham­burg, CC0

The col­lec­tion promis­es, “future exhi­bi­tions on spe­cif­ic themes… telling com­pelling sto­ries with stun­ning images.” Cur­rent­ly, you’ll find there themed “expo­si­tions” like “Indus­tri­al Pho­tog­ra­phy in the Machine Age” and “Vin­tage Post­cards of South­east­ern Europe,” among oth­ers. A gallery on “The Mag­ic Lantern” offers a tour of a pre-cin­e­ma enter­tain­ment tech­nol­o­gy. One on pho­tog­ra­ph­er Johan Wil­helm Weimar intro­duces view­ers to incred­i­bly strik­ing work from his 1901 Herbar­i­um.

The col­lec­tion is search­able, down­load­able, share­able, and you can choose from 23 dif­fer­ent lan­guages, includ­ing Eng­lish. Its mis­sion is inter­na­tion­al, but also very much built on the idea—some might say polit­i­cal fiction—of a cul­tur­al­ly uni­fied Europe, allow­ing peo­ple to “con­nect with their past, with fel­low Euro­pean cit­i­zens, explore remote eras and loca­tions, and bet­ter appre­ci­ate the val­ue of their con­ti­nen­tal, nation­al and local cul­tur­al her­itage.”

Grand Canal, Venice, 1929. Nico­la Per­scheid. Muse­um für Kun­st und Gewerbe Ham­burg, CC0

Lofty goals, but one need no such larg­er pur­pose to sim­ply enjoy casu­al­ly brows­ing, and mak­ing the kind of odd dis­cov­er­ies one might on a con­ti­nen­tal walk­ing tour, with no par­tic­u­lar des­ti­na­tion in mind.

Vis­it the Euro­peana Pho­tog­ra­phy archive here.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Thou­sands of Pho­tos from the George East­man Muse­um, the World’s Old­est Pho­tog­ra­phy Col­lec­tion, Now Avail­able Online

Down­load 437 Issues of Sovi­et Pho­to Mag­a­zine, the Sovi­et Union’s His­toric Pho­tog­ra­phy Jour­nal (1926–1991)

School of Visu­al Arts Presents 99 Hours of Free Pho­tog­ra­phy Lec­tures

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

NASA Releases a Massive Online Archive: 140,000 Photos, Videos & Audio Files Free to Search and Download

Last sum­mer, astronomer Michael Sum­mer wrote that, despite a rel­a­tive­ly low pro­file, NASA and its inter­na­tion­al part­ners have been “liv­ing Carl Sagan’s dream for space explo­ration.” Sum­mers’ cat­a­logue of dis­cov­er­ies and ground­break­ing experiments—such as Scott Kelly’s year­long stay aboard the Inter­na­tion­al Space Station—speaks for itself. But for those focused on more earth­bound con­cerns, or those less emo­tion­al­ly moved by sci­ence, it may take a cer­tain elo­quence to com­mu­ni­cate the val­ue of space in words. “Per­haps,” writes Sum­mers, “we should have had a poet as a mem­ber of every space mis­sion to bet­ter cap­ture the intense thrill of dis­cov­ery.”

Sagan was the clos­est we’ve come. Though he nev­er went into space him­self, he worked close­ly on NASA mis­sions since the 1950s and com­mu­ni­cat­ed bet­ter than any­one, in deeply poet­ic terms, the beau­ty and won­der of the cos­mos. Like­ly you’re famil­iar with his “pale blue dot” solil­o­quy, but con­sid­er this quote from his 1968 lec­tures, Plan­e­tary Explo­ration:

There is a place with four suns in the sky — red, white, blue, and yel­low; two of them are so close togeth­er that they touch, and star-stuff flows between them. I know of a world with a mil­lion moons. I know of a sun the size of the Earth — and made of dia­mond. There are atom­ic nuclei a few miles across which rotate thir­ty times a sec­ond. There are tiny grains between the stars, with the size and atom­ic com­po­si­tion of bac­te­ria. There are stars leav­ing the Milky Way, and immense gas clouds falling into it. There are tur­bu­lent plas­mas writhing with X- and gam­ma-rays and mighty stel­lar explo­sions. There are, per­haps, places which are out­side our uni­verse. The uni­verse is vast and awe­some, and for the first time we are becom­ing a part of it.

Sagan’s lyri­cal prose alone cap­tured the imag­i­na­tion of mil­lions. But what has most often made us to fall in love with, and fund, the space pro­gram, is pho­tog­ra­phy. No mis­sion has ever had a res­i­dent poet, but every one, manned and unmanned, has had mul­ti­ple high-tech pho­tog­ra­phers.

NASA has long had “a trove of images, audio, and video the gen­er­al pub­lic want­ed to see,” writes Eric Berg­er at Ars Tech­ni­ca. “After all, this was the agency that had sent peo­ple to the Moon, tak­en pho­tos of every plan­et in the Solar Sys­tem, and launched the Hub­ble Space Tele­scope.”

Until the advent of the Inter­net, only a few select, and unfor­get­table, images made their way to the pub­lic. Since the 1990s, the agency has pub­lished hun­dreds of pho­tos and videos online, but these efforts have been frag­men­tary and not par­tic­u­lar­ly user-friend­ly. That changed this month with the release of a huge pho­to archive140,000 pic­tures, videos, and audio files, to be exact—that aggre­gates mate­ri­als from the agency’s cen­ters all across the coun­try and the world, and makes them search­able. The visu­al poet­ry on dis­play is stag­ger­ing, as is the amount of tech­ni­cal infor­ma­tion for the more tech­ni­cal­ly inclined.

Since Sum­mers laud­ed NASA’s accom­plish­ments, the fraught pol­i­tics of sci­ence fund­ing have become deeply con­cern­ing for sci­en­tists and the pub­lic, pro­vok­ing what will like­ly be a well-attend­ed march for sci­ence tomor­row. Where does NASA stand in all of this? You may be sur­prised to learn that the pres­i­dent has signed a bill autho­riz­ing con­sid­er­able fund­ing for the agency. You may be unsur­prised to learn how that fund­ing is to be allo­cat­ed. Earth sci­ence and edu­ca­tion are out. A mis­sion to Mars is in.

As I perused the stun­ning NASA pho­to archive, pick­ing my jaw up from the floor sev­er­al times, I found in some cas­es that my view began to shift, espe­cial­ly while look­ing at pho­tos from the Mars rover mis­sions, and read­ing the cap­tions, which casu­al­ly refer to every rocky out­crop­ping, moun­tain, crater, and val­ley by name as though they were tourist des­ti­na­tions on a map of New Mex­i­co. In addi­tion to Sagan’s Cos­mos, I also began to think of the col­o­niza­tion epics of Ray Brad­bury and Kim Stan­ley Robinson—the cor­po­rate greed, the apoc­a­lyp­tic wars, the his­to­ry repeat­ing itself on anoth­er plan­et….

It’s easy to blame the cur­rent anti-sci­ence lob­by for shift­ing the focus to plan­ets oth­er than our own. There is no jus­ti­fi­ca­tion for the mutu­al­ly assured destruc­tion of cli­mate sci­ence denial­ism or nuclear esca­la­tion. But in addi­tion to map­ping and nam­ing galax­ies, black holes, and neb­u­lae, we’ve seen an intense focus on the Red Plan­et for many years. It seems inevitable, as it did to the most far-sight­ed of sci­ence fic­tion writ­ers, that we would make our way there one way or anoth­er.

We would do well to recov­er the sense of awe and won­der out­er space used to inspire in us—sublime feel­ings that can moti­vate us not only to explore the seem­ing­ly lim­it­less resources of space but to con­serve and pre­serve our own on Earth. Hope­ful­ly you can find your own slice of the sub­lime in this mas­sive pho­to archive.

 

via the Cre­ators Project

Relat­ed Con­tent:

How the Icon­ic 1968 “Earth­rise” Pho­to Was Made: An Engross­ing Visu­al­iza­tion by NASA

NASA Releas­es 3 Mil­lion Ther­mal Images of Our Plan­et Earth

NASA Its Soft­ware Online & Makes It Free to Down­load

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Photos of 19th-Century Black Women Activists Digitized and Put Online by The Library of Congress

A cou­ple days ago, a visu­al­ly com­pelling thread on Twit­ter explod­ed with thou­sands of shares and likes and dozens of users sub­mit­ting their own con­tri­bu­tions. The thread (a series of con­nect­ed tweets for the Twit­ter unini­ti­at­ed) has become an evolv­ing pho­to essay of women activists stand­ing up to walls of mil­i­ta­rized riot police and mobs of angry big­ots. The pho­tos fea­ture sub­jects like Tess Asplund, Leshia Evans, and Saf­fiyah Khan, and his­tor­i­cal inspi­ra­tions like Glo­ria Richard­son and Bernadette Devlin. Many of the sub­jects are unknown or unnamed, but no less icon­ic. These images, from all over the world, of women stand­ing defi­ant­ly and often alone, against heav­i­ly armed and armored, most­ly male pow­er struc­tures inspire and, in the case of chil­dren like Ruby Bridges, can break your heart.

Pho­tos like these serve as pow­er­ful and nec­es­sary tes­ta­ments to the fact that in social move­ments through­out his­to­ry, women have held the front lines. And pho­tog­ra­phers have cap­tured their activist spir­it since the ear­ly days of the medi­um. In the 19th cen­tu­ry, long expo­sures and frag­ile, finicky equip­ment made action shots dif­fi­cult-to-impos­si­ble, and for a vari­ety of cul­tur­al rea­sons, many women were far less like­ly to con­front armed men on the streets. There­fore, the por­traits of women activists from the time tend toward tra­di­tion­al seat­ed pos­es. But as famous pho­tographs of Har­ri­et Tub­man and Sojourn­er Truth demon­strate, these images do not show us pas­sive observers of his­to­ry.

Pic­tures of Tub­man and Truth have made their way into every ele­men­tary school his­to­ry text­book. Far less well-known are the many oth­er African-Amer­i­can women activists of the late-nine­teenth and ear­ly twen­ti­eth cen­turies who fought for the rights of black Amer­i­cans in edu­ca­tion, at the vot­ing booth, and every­where else. Dur­ing Recon­struc­tion espe­cial­ly, many such activists rose to promi­nence in acad­e­mia, jour­nal­ism, and civic lead­er­ship. Women like Fan­nie Bar­ri­er Williams, at the top, whose wise, direct gaze illus­trates her fear­less­ness as an edu­ca­tion­al reformer and suf­frag­ist, who, despite her maid­en name, broke sev­er­al bar­ri­ers for black women in high­er edu­ca­tion and promi­nent pub­lic events like the 1893 Columbian Expo­si­tion. Against pater­nal­is­tic claims that for­mer slaves weren’t ready for cit­i­zen­ship, writes the Rochester Region­al Library Coun­cil, Williams “called on all women to unite and claim their inalien­able rights.”

Above, we see Lau­ra A. Moore West­brook. Of the first gen­er­a­tion to grow up after slav­ery, West­brook received a master’s degree in 1880, the only woman in a class of four. She went on to teach and fight fierce­ly for for­mer­ly enslaved stu­dents in Texas, earn­ing admi­ra­tion, as Mon­roe Alphus Majors wrote in 1893, “in con­spic­u­ous instances and under very flat­ter­ing cir­cum­stances” from con­tem­po­raries like Fred­er­ick Dou­glass. Majors’ char­ac­ter­i­za­tion will sound patron­iz­ing to our ears, but in the rigid terms of the time, it offers near­ly as vivid a por­trait as her pho­to­graph: “Her motive to do good far sur­pass­es her van­i­ty, except when her race is attacked, then, man­like, she with the pen strikes back, and even goes beyond her loy­al­ty to serve, but makes last­ing impres­sions upon those who are so unfor­tu­nate to get with­in her range.”

These images come from a Library of Con­gress archive of nine­teenth-cen­tu­ry African Amer­i­can activists from the col­lec­tion of William Hen­ry Richards, a pro­fes­sor at Howard Uni­ver­si­ty Law School from 1890 to 1928 and a staunch cam­paign­er for civ­il rights and lib­er­ties. Most of the por­traits are of the for­mal, staged vari­ety, but we also have the more relaxed, even play­ful series of pos­es from activists Eliz­a­beth Brooks and Emma Hack­ley, above. Richards’ col­lec­tion, writes cura­tor Bev­er­ly Bran­non at the LoC site, includes many “peo­ple who joined him and oth­ers work­ing in the suf­frage and tem­per­ance move­ments and in edu­ca­tion, jour­nal­ism and the arts.” The pho­tographs “show the women at ear­li­er ages than most por­traits pre­vi­ous­ly avail­able of them online.”

These por­traits date from a time, notes Alli­son Meier at Hyper­al­ler­gic, when “rights and oppor­tu­ni­ties for African Amer­i­cans, espe­cial­ly women, remained severe­ly lim­it­ed.” Many “obscure black women writ­ers,” jour­nal­ists, and teach­ers “await their biog­ra­phers,”  argues Jonathan Daniel Wells, and per­haps the redis­cov­ery of these pho­tographs will prompt his­to­ri­ans to recon­sid­er their promi­nence. While they did not phys­i­cal­ly stand up to armed mobs or police bat­tal­ions, these activists, writes Meier, “spoke out bold­ly against gen­der inequal­i­ty, while at the same time remain­ing cog­nizant that espe­cial­ly in the so-called New South, racism, vio­lence and mur­der were ever-present dan­gers for African Amer­i­can women and men.”

Hyper­al­ler­gic/Library of Con­gress

Relat­ed Con­tent:

1.5 Mil­lion Slav­ery Era Doc­u­ments Will Be Dig­i­tized, Help­ing African Amer­i­cans to Learn About Their Lost Ances­tors

W.E.B. Du Bois Cre­ates Rev­o­lu­tion­ary, Artis­tic Data Visu­al­iza­tions Show­ing the Eco­nom­ic Plight of African-Amer­i­cans (1900)

Watch the Pio­neer­ing Films of Oscar Micheaux, America’s First Great African-Amer­i­can Film­mak­er

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

School of Visual Arts Presents 99 Hours of Free Photography Lectures

FYI: Last week, pho­tog­ra­ph­er Dan Cul­ber­son flagged on Red­dit a trove of free pho­tog­ra­phy lec­tures avail­able on School of Visu­al Arts’ rich YouTube chan­nel. Elab­o­rat­ing, the pho­tog­ra­phy blog Petapix­el writes:

Tons of hour-long lec­tures can be found on the channel’s Images, Ideas, Inspi­ra­tion playlist, most of them pho­tog­ra­phy relat­ed and all of them fas­ci­nat­ing.

You’ll find some­thing for every­one on this channel—from a lec­ture by gallery rep Mar­git Erb talk­ing about her close per­son­al and pro­fes­sion­al rela­tion­ship with the great Saul Leit­er, to a talk by Dancers Among Us pho­tog­ra­ph­er Jor­dan Mat­ter, to Jack Hollingsworth’s fas­ci­nat­ing talk titled “Small Cam­era Big Results.”

There are a total of 99 videos in that playlist alone—approximately 99 hours of edu­ca­tion, inspi­ra­tion, and ideas.

Above you can watch Jack Hollingsworth’s lec­ture, “Small Cam­era Big Results.” He has “trav­eled to over 20 coun­tries and shot over 400,000 images with his iPhone,” and here he dis­cuss­es his iPhone pho­tog­ra­phy tech­nique, and all the apps he uses.

Find more lec­tures on this Images, Ideas, Inspi­ra­tion playlist. Also find cours­es on dig­i­tal pho­tog­ra­phy in our col­lec­tion, 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via Petapix­el

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Google Makes Its $149 Pho­to Edit­ing Soft­ware Now Com­plete­ly Free to Down­load

An Intro­duc­tion to Dig­i­tal Pho­tog­ra­phy: Take a Free Course from Stan­ford Prof/Google Researcher Marc Lev­oy

Learn Dig­i­tal Pho­tog­ra­phy with Har­vard University’s Free Online Course

The His­to­ry of Pho­tog­ra­phy in Five Ani­mat­ed Min­utes: From Cam­era Obscu­ra to Cam­era Phone

How to Take Pho­tographs Like Ansel Adams: The Mas­ter Explains The Art of “Visu­al­iza­tion”

1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties

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