Photos of Jean-Paul Sartre & Simone de Beauvoir Hanging with Che Guevara in Cuba (1960)

sartre che smoke

In 1960, Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beau­voir ven­tured to Cuba dur­ing, as he wrote, the “hon­ey­moon of the rev­o­lu­tion.” Mil­i­tary strong­man Ful­gen­cio Batista’s regime had fall­en to Fidel Cas­tro’s gueril­la army and the whole coun­try was alight with rev­o­lu­tion­ary zeal. As Beau­voir wrote, “after Paris, the gai­ety of the place explod­ed like a mir­a­cle under the blue sky.”

At the time, Sartre and de Beau­voir were inter­na­tion­al­ly renown, the intel­lec­tu­al pow­er cou­ple of the 20th cen­tu­ry. Beauvoir’s book, The Sec­ond Sex (1949), laid the ground­work for the fem­i­nism move­ment, and her book The Man­darins won France’s high­est lit­er­ary award in 1954. Sartre’s name had become a house­hold word. The phi­los­o­phy he cham­pi­oned – Exis­ten­tial­ism – was being read and debat­ed around the world. And his polit­i­cal activism — loud­ly con­demn­ing France’s war in Alge­ria, for instance — had giv­en him real moral author­i­ty. When Sartre was arrest­ed in 1968 for civ­il dis­obe­di­ence, Charles de Gaulle par­doned him, not­ing, “You don’t arrest Voltaire.” As Deirdre Bair notes in her biog­ra­phy of Beau­voir, “Sartre became the one intel­lec­tu­al whose pres­ence and com­men­tary emerg­ing gov­ern­ments clam­ored for, as if he alone could val­i­date their rev­o­lu­tions.” So it’s not ter­ri­bly sur­pris­ing that Fidel Cas­tro wined and dined the two dur­ing their month in Cuba.

sartre-beauvoir-and-che-in-cuba

Cuban pho­tog­ra­ph­er Alber­to Kor­da cap­tured the cou­ple as they met with Cas­tro, Che Gue­vara and oth­er lead­ers of the rev­o­lu­tion. One pic­ture (above) is of Gue­vara in his com­bat boots and trade­mark beret, light­ing a cig­ar for the French philoso­pher. Sartre looks small and unhealthy com­pared to the strap­ping, mag­net­ic rev­o­lu­tion­ary. Sartre was appar­ent­ly impressed by the time he spent with the gueril­la leader. When Che died in Bolivia sev­en years lat­er, Sartre famous­ly wrote that Gue­vara was “not only an intel­lec­tu­al but also the most com­plete human being of our age.”

Lat­er, Kor­da caught them as they were guid­ed through the streets of Havana. And as you can see (below), that icon­ic image of Gue­vara, lat­er plas­tered on T‑shirts and Rage Against the Machine album cov­ers, is on that same role of film.

When the cou­ple returned to Paris, Sartre wrote arti­cle after arti­cle extolling the rev­o­lu­tion. Beau­voir, who was equal­ly impressed, wrote, “For the first time in our lives, we were wit­ness­ing hap­pi­ness that had been attained by vio­lence.”

KordaFilmRollChe

Yet their enthu­si­asm for the regime cooled when they returned to Cuba a year lat­er. The streets of Havana had lit­tle of the joy as the pre­vi­ous year. When they talked to fac­to­ry work­ers, they heard lit­tle but par­rot­ing of the offi­cial par­ty line. Beau­voir and Sartre ulti­mate­ly denounced Cas­tro (along with a bunch of oth­er intel­lec­tu­al lumi­nar­ies like Gabriel Gar­cia Mar­quez and Octavio Paz) in an open let­ter that crit­i­cized him for the arrest of Cuban poet Her­ber­to Padil­lo.

You can read more about the life and pho­tog­ra­phy of Alber­to Kor­da in the 2006 book, Cuba: by Kor­da.

Pho­tos above by Alber­to Kor­da.

via Crit­i­cal The­o­ry

Relat­ed Con­tent: 

Philosophy’s Pow­er Cou­ple, Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beau­voir, Fea­tured in 1967 TV Inter­view

Jean-Paul Sartre Breaks Down the Bad Faith of Intel­lec­tu­als

Wal­ter Kaufmann’s Clas­sic Lec­tures on Niet­zsche, Kierkegaard and Sartre (1960)

Jonathan Crow is a Los Ange­les-based writer and film­mak­er whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hol­ly­wood Reporter, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low him at @jonccrowAnd check out his blog Veep­to­pus, fea­tur­ing one new draw­ing of a vice pres­i­dent with an octo­pus on his head dai­ly.  The Veep­to­pus store is here.

The First Color Portrait of Leo Tolstoy, and Other Amazing Color Photos of Czarist Russia (1908)

A good few peo­ple object­ed to a recent project that col­orized old pho­tos of Walt Whit­man, Char­lie Chap­lin, Helen Keller, Mark Twain, and oth­er his­tor­i­cal char­ac­ters. Leave them alone! they grumped. The past, they want­ed left in black and white. But this is not so eas­i­ly done when some photos—whether of august per­son­ages like Leo Tol­stoy above, or of ordi­nary anony­mous peas­ants below—were always processed in col­or. The Tol­stoy image dates from 1908, two years before his death, but the process is much old­er, and suc­cess­ful col­or pho­tographs, not sim­ply hand-paint­ed col­oriza­tions, go back at least to the Lumiere Broth­ers’ Autochromes from the late 19th cen­tu­ry.

Russian Workers

The method that gave us Tol­stoy in col­or involved tak­ing three photographs—with a red, a green, and a blue filter—then pro­ject­ing the result­ing prints through fil­ters of the same col­or. It’s a pro­ce­dure that dates to Scot­tish sci­en­tist James Clerk Maxwell’s 1861 exper­i­ments, which put to the test sev­er­al ear­li­er the­o­ries. The pho­tographs you see here are the work of sci­en­tist and inven­tor Sergei Prokudin-Gorsky, who had per­fect­ed the pro­jec­tion method to such a degree that—as he wrote in a let­ter to Tol­stoy ask­ing him to pose—he only need­ed “from 1 to 3 sec­onds to take the pho­to­graph.” Thus it would not be “over­ly tire­some” for the soon-to-be eighty-year-old nov­el­ist.

Tol­stoy, of course, was a nation­al insti­tu­tion, and had war­rant­ed an ear­li­er attempt at a col­or por­trait by an anony­mous ama­teur to whom Prokudin-Gorsky refers in his let­ter of request. The first attempt, the inven­tor implies, was a botched job. Billing him­self as a spe­cial­ist in “pho­tog­ra­phy ‘in nat­ur­al col­ors,’” the self-con­fi­dent entre­pre­neur assured the writer he could pro­duce “excel­lent results” with “accu­rate col­ors.” “My col­ored pro­jec­tions,” he wrote, “are known in both Europe and in Rus­sia.” Prokudin-Gorsky was received and giv­en two days to take sev­er­al col­or pho­tographs, though whether the oth­ers have sur­vived, I do not know. We do know that the por­trait appeared in the August, 1908 issue of The Pro­ceed­ings of the Russ­ian Tech­ni­cal Soci­ety as “the first Russ­ian col­or pho­to­por­trait.” The jour­nal offered the image in trib­ute to Tolstoy’s upcom­ing 80th birth­day cel­e­bra­tion, writ­ing:

Our peri­od­i­cal, as a pure­ly tech­ni­cal one, can­not hon­or this ven­er­a­ble rep­re­sen­ta­tive of Russ­ian thought and word with spe­cial arti­cles. Desir­ing, how­ev­er, to take part in the gen­er­al fes­tiv­i­ties, the edi­to­r­i­al staff […] decid­ed to pub­lish in this, its August issue, the newest por­trait of Tol­stoy, which is the dernier mot in pho­to­graph­ic tech­nol­o­gy. The por­trait was tak­en on loca­tion and in nat­ur­al col­ors, achieved through tech­ni­cal meth­ods alone, with­out any use of the artist’s brush or tool.

Prokudin-Gorsky expressed his grat­i­tude to the nov­el­ist by mail­ing him a pho­to­graph­ic peri­od­i­cal con­tain­ing “many pic­tures pro­duced in my work­shops from my pho­tographs.” Per­haps the oth­er pho­tos we see here were con­tained in that jour­nal. Prokudin-Gorsky had every rea­son to be proud of his work, and the Russ­ian Tech­ni­cal Soci­ety every rea­son to endorse it. The pic­tures are stun­ning.

1911 Cathedral

Some of the pho­tographs, like the Tol­stoy por­trait, have a painter­ly, almost impres­sion­is­tic qual­i­ty. Oth­ers, like the 1911 vil­lage scene with the Niko­laevskii Cathe­dral in the dis­tance, have almost the depth of field and fine-grained clar­i­ty of 35mm film. And some, like that of the already car­toon­ish struc­ture below, have an almost hal­lu­ci­na­to­ry CGI qual­i­ty. The method wasn’t perfect—even with such short expo­sures, sub­jects had to remain absolute­ly still. If they moved, the result was an eerie dou­ble expo­sure effect you see in the mid­dle dis­tance of the field work­ers pho­tographed above. But over­all, these pho­tographs sim­ply aston­ish in their crisp­ness and fideli­ty.

Russian Mill

You can see many more of Prokudin-Gorsky’s images at this online gallery, which includes over a dozen ear­ly-twen­ti­eth cen­tu­ry pho­tos of Russ­ian labor­ers, land­scapes, and self por­traits. Prokudin-Gorsky’s work also pre­serves images of var­i­ous East­ern Euro­pean peo­ples in tra­di­tion­al dress—like the final Emir of Bukhara, now Uzbek­istan, below in 1910. Many of these groups were on the verge of cul­tur­al extinc­tion in the com­ing years of Sovi­et impe­ri­al­ism. Unwit­ting­ly, Prokudin-Gorsky man­aged to beau­ti­ful­ly cap­ture the very end of tsarist Rus­sia, most poignant­ly sym­bol­ized for so many Rus­sians by their aged lit­er­ary hero, whose birth­day we cel­e­brate again today. Google decid­ed to do so in full col­or as well, with fan­cy doo­dles of his major works. You may accuse them of tam­per­ing with the past, but those who find these col­or pho­tographs too mod­ern may need to expand their def­i­n­i­tion of moder­ni­ty.

Last Emir

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Col­orized Pho­tos Bring Walt Whit­man, Char­lie Chap­lin, Helen Keller & Mark Twain Back to Life

Rare Record­ing: Leo Tol­stoy Reads From His Last Major Work in Four Lan­guages, 1909

Vin­tage Footage of Leo Tol­stoy: Video Cap­tures the Great Nov­el­ist Dur­ing His Final Days

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

Yale Launches an Archive of 170,000 Photographs Documenting the Great Depression

dorothea langeDur­ing the Great Depres­sion, The Farm Secu­ri­ty Administration—Office of War Infor­ma­tion (FSA-OWI) hired pho­tog­ra­phers to trav­el across Amer­i­ca to doc­u­ment the pover­ty that gripped the nation, hop­ing to build sup­port for New Deal pro­grams being cham­pi­oned by F.D.R.‘s admin­is­tra­tion.

Leg­endary pho­tog­ra­phers like Dorothea Lange, Walk­er Evans, and Arthur Roth­stein took part in what amount­ed to the largest pho­tog­ra­phy project ever spon­sored by the fed­er­al gov­ern­ment. All told, 170,000 pho­tographs were tak­en, then cat­a­logued back in Wash­ing­ton DC. The Library of Con­gress became their even­tu­al rest­ing place.

walker evans

We first men­tioned this his­toric project back in 2012, when the New York Pub­lic Library put a rel­a­tive­ly small sam­pling of these images online. But today we have big­ger news.

Yale Uni­ver­si­ty has launched Pho­togram­mar, a sophis­ti­cat­ed web-based plat­form for orga­niz­ing, search­ing, and visu­al­iz­ing these 170,000 his­toric pho­tographs.

arthur rothstein

The Pho­togram­mar plat­form gives you the abil­i­ty to search through the images by pho­tog­ra­ph­er. Do a search for Dorothea Lange’s pho­tographs, and you get over 3200 images, includ­ing the now icon­ic pho­to­graph at the bot­tom of this post.

Pho­togram­mar also offers a handy inter­ac­tive map that lets you gath­er geo­graph­i­cal infor­ma­tion about 90,000 pho­tographs in the col­lec­tion.

And then there’s a sec­tion called Pho­togram­mar Labs where inno­v­a­tive visu­al­iza­tion tech­niques and data exper­i­ments will grad­u­al­ly shed new light on the image archive.

Accord­ing to Yale, the Pho­togram­mar project was fund­ed by a grant from the Nation­al Endow­ment for the Human­i­ties (NEH). Direct­ed by Lau­ra Wexler, the project was under­tak­en by Yale’’s Pub­lic Human­i­ties Pro­gram and its Pho­to­graph­ic Mem­o­ry Work­shop. You can learn more about the gen­e­sis of the project and its tech­ni­cal chal­lenges here.

rothstein 3
Top image: A migrant agri­cul­tur­al work­er in Marysville migrant camp, try­ing to fig­ure out his year’s earn­ings. Tak­en in Cal­i­for­nia in 1935 by Dorothea Lange.

Sec­ond image: Allie Mae Bur­roughs, wife of cot­ton share­crop­per. Pho­to tak­en in Hale Coun­ty, Alaba­ma in 1935 by Walk­er Evans.

Third image: Wife and chil­dren of share­crop­per in Wash­ing­ton Coun­ty, Arkansas. By Arthur Roth­stein. 1935.

Fourth image: Wife of Negro share­crop­per, Lee Coun­ty, Mis­sis­sip­pi. Again tak­en by Arthur Roth­stein in 1935.

Bot­tom image: Des­ti­tute pea pick­ers in Cal­i­for­nia. Moth­er of sev­en chil­dren. Age thir­ty-two. Tak­en by Dorothea Lange in Nipo­mo, Cal­i­for­nia, 1936.

lange bottom

h/t @pbkauf

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Found: Lost Great Depres­sion Pho­tos Cap­tur­ing Hard Times on Farms, and in Town

Down­load for Free 2.6 Mil­lion Images from Books Pub­lished Over Last 500 Years on Flickr

The Get­ty Adds Anoth­er 77,000 Images to its Open Con­tent Archive

The Fin­land Wartime Pho­to Archive: 160,000 Images From World War II Now Online

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Andy Warhol’s 85 Polaroid Portraits: Mick Jagger, Yoko Ono, O.J. Simpson & Many Others (1970–1987)

warhol polaroids

Polaroid pho­tog­ra­phy, which looked about to fade out for­ev­er for a while there, has in recent years made a come­back. Chalk it up, if you must, to a grand revalu­ing wave of the phys­i­cal­ly ana­log in our age of dig­i­tal ephemer­al­i­ty — the same tide on which enthu­si­asm for vinyl, zines, and even VHS tapes has risen again. But we must acknowl­edge that Andy Warhol, in a sense, got there first. It hard­ly counts as the only mat­ter on which the mas­ter­mind of the Fac­to­ry showed pre­science; take, for instance, his quip about every­one in the future get­ting fif­teen min­utes of fame, a pre­dic­tion which, as Jonathan Lethem put it, has in our present hard­ened into “drab pro­ces­sion­al.” Some of these very 21st-cen­tu­ry peo­ple now enjoy­ing (or endur­ing) their own fif­teen min­utes — most of them pre­sum­ably not even born with­in Warhol’s life­time — sure­ly keep a Polaroid cam­era at hand. They acknowl­edge, on some lev­el, what the con­sum­mate 20th-cen­tu­ry “pop artist” sensed: that the osten­si­bly cheap and dis­pos­able, includ­ing self-devel­op­ing film used for untrained vaca­tion snap­shots and mere ref­er­ence mate­r­i­al for “real” works of art, has its own kind of per­ma­nence.

Here we have a selec­tion of Warhol’s own works of Polaroid pho­tog­ra­phy, a medi­um he took up around 1970 and used to fur­ther his inter­est in por­trai­ture. The Uni­ver­si­ty of Cal­i­for­nia, Berke­ley Art Muse­um, just one of the insti­tu­tions to put them on dis­play, says that “these images often served as the basis for his com­mis­sioned por­traits, silk-screen paint­ings, draw­ings, and prints.” The wide sub­set they showed “reveals that super­stars were not the only fig­ures that Warhol pho­tographed with his Polaroid Big Shot, the dis­tinct plas­tic cam­era he used for the major­i­ty of his sit­tings. Over half of those who sat for him were lit­tle known or remain uniden­ti­fied.” Whether of Mick Jag­ger, Yoko Ono, O.J. Simp­son, Deb­bie Har­ry, him­self, a row of bananas, or some­one faint­ly rec­og­niz­able yet ulti­mate­ly unnam­able, each of Warhol’s Polaroids remains “ful­ly iden­ti­fied with the art­work that ulti­mate­ly grew out of it; the face depict­ed becomes a kind of sig­ni­fi­er for larg­er cul­tur­al con­cepts of beau­ty, pow­er, and worth.”

You can see at least 85 of Warhol’s polaroid por­traits at a site called These Amer­i­cans.

Now what would Warhol, a known ear­ly enthu­si­ast of com­put­er art, have said about the arrival of Insta­gram fil­ters meant to make our instan­ta­neous, high-res­o­lu­tion dig­i­tal pho­tos look like Polaroids again?

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Andy Warhol Dig­i­tal­ly Paints Deb­bie Har­ry with the Ami­ga 1000 Com­put­er (1985)

Andy Warhol’s Lost Com­put­er Art Found on 30-Year-Old Flop­py Disks

The Mas­ter­ful Polaroid Pic­tures Tak­en by Film­mak­er Andrei Tarkovsky

Watch Lau­rence Olivi­er, Liv Ull­mann and Christo­pher Plummer’s Clas­sic Polaroid Ads

Ital­ian Pho­tog­ra­ph­er Mau­r­izio Gal­im­ber­ti Cre­ates Cubist Polaroid Col­lages of Artists & Celebri­ties

A Cel­e­bra­tion of Retro Media: Vinyl, Cas­settes, VHS, and Polaroid Too

Col­in Mar­shall hosts and pro­duces Note­book on Cities and Cul­ture and writes essays on cities, lan­guage, Asia, and men’s style. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Paris Through Pentax: Short Film Lets You See a Great City Through a Different Lens

http://vimeo.com/104088954

Mai­son Carnot, an ad stu­dio in France, has pro­duced a delight­ful short film that lets you see Paris through the viewfind­er of the clas­sic Pen­tax 67 cam­era. Antoine Pai, one of the film­mak­ers, told Petapixel, “As Parisians, we are so used to the charm of our city that we for­get some­times to take a minute and observe.” “Mar­cel Proust once said, ‘Mys­tery is not about trav­el­ing to new places but it’s about look­ing with new eyes.’ That is total­ly what we felt while shoot­ing this film.” To see Paris through a dif­fer­nent lens, watch Paris Through Pen­tax above. To get the back­sto­ry on the con­trap­tion Mai­son Carnot jer­ry-rigged to shoot the film, head over to Petapix­el.

Dennis Hopper’s Photography, Now On Display in London, Documents a World “On Fire With Change”

Ear­ly in his long career, Den­nis Hop­per found time to “do his­to­ry a favor,” using his cam­era to doc­u­ment a world “on fire with change.”

Good tim­ing. The peri­od from 1961 to 1967 was a less than fer­tile peri­od for him as an actor after some less than pro­fes­sion­al behav­ior land­ed him on the Hol­ly­wood naughty list. His inter­est in pho­tog­ra­phy may not have kept him out of trou­ble, but it did help him main­tain a sense of artis­tic pur­pose whilst pick­ing up a healthy num­ber of guest appear­ances on TV.

Busy busy busy. (Some­thing tells me James Fran­co and Ethan Hawke would approve.)

Hav­ing redeemed his rep­u­ta­tion with The Trip and Cool Hand Luke, Hop­per was back on track for movie star­dom, but not before he chose the most stir­ring of thou­sands of images for a solo exhi­bi­tion at the Fort Worth Art Cen­ter, held in 1969–70.

In the esti­ma­tion of cura­tor Petra Giloy-Hirtz, who recre­at­ed this show for the Lon­don Roy­al Acad­e­my of Art’s “Den­nis Hop­per: The Lost Album,” the work that cap­tured the aver­age Joe’s expe­ri­ence dur­ing this peri­od of upheaval places him among the best pho­tog­ra­phers of the peri­od.

He also did pop cul­ture a favor, by turn­ing his lens on cer­tain glit­tery sub­jects from the art and film worlds, includ­ing Andy Warhol, the Rolling Stones’ Bri­an Jones, and actress Jane Fon­da and direc­tor Roger Vadim on their wed­ding day.

If you can’t make it to the exhib­it at the Lon­don Roy­al Acad­e­my of Art, you can view some of Hop­per’s 400 pho­tographs in this online gallery host­ed by the BBC.

via Laugh­ing Squid

Relat­ed Con­tent:

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

The Big Ernest Hem­ing­way Pho­to Gallery: The Nov­el­ist in Cuba, Spain, Africa and Beyond

David Lynch Talks About His 99 Favorite Pho­tographs at Paris Pho­to 2012

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, and the Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the award-win­ning East Vil­lage Inky zine. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

Colorized Photos Bring Walt Whitman, Charlie Chaplin, Helen Keller & Mark Twain Back to Life

whitman color

When dis­co pio­neer Gior­gio Moro­doer released a col­orized ver­sion of Fritz Lang’s Metrop­o­lis – fea­tur­ing a sound­track with Bil­ly Squier, Pat Benatar and Adam Ant, no less – film purists every­where howled with dis­be­lief at how the film’s moody black and white had been turned into East­er egg pinks and blues. It felt like a gim­mick and, worse, it just didn’t look real.

Col­oriza­tion has come a long way since then. In the hands of the right Pho­to­shop wiz­ard — like artist Dana Keller — a col­orized pho­to­graph of, say, the Okla­homa dust bowl or turn-of-the-cen­tu­ry Coney Island gives view­ers the chill of the uncan­ny. Peo­ple and things that have long since depart­ed this world sud­den­ly seem vital and alive. It makes that for­eign coun­try called the past feel eeri­ly famil­iar.

Above is a pic­ture of poet Walt Whit­man. His trade­mark long hair and Karl Marx beard would look right at home in cer­tain cor­ners of Port­land. Apart from that, there is both a sen­si­tiv­i­ty and fero­cious­ness about this pic­ture. Whit­man def­i­nite­ly looks like he’s capa­ble of deliv­er­ing a bar­bar­ic yawp. You can see what the pic­ture looked like in its orig­i­nal black and white here.

chaplin and keller color

This pho­to­graph of Helen Keller draw­ing a hand over Char­lie Chap­lin’s face from 1919 looks like it could be a still from an upcom­ing Oscar bait biopic. In fact the pic­ture was tak­en in Hol­ly­wood while Keller was on one of her speak­ing tours. (See orig­i­nal here.)

twain color

Like­wise with this por­trait (orig­i­nal here) of Mark Twain. You can almost hear him make some pithy com­ment like “A pho­to­graph is a most impor­tant doc­u­ment, and there is noth­ing more damn­ing to go down to pos­ter­i­ty than a sil­ly, fool­ish smile caught and fixed for­ev­er.” As you can see from the pic­ture, Twain didn’t take that risk, opt­ing for more of a whiskery scowl.

goebbels color

This pic­ture of Joseph Goebbels (orig­i­nal) star­ing down a Jew­ish pho­tog­ra­ph­er is sim­ply ter­ri­fy­ing. It’s the sort of death stare com­mon among psy­cho-killers, death row inmates and, appar­ent­ly, Nazi pro­pa­gan­da min­is­ters.

burger color

And this pic­ture of a hum­ble burg­er flip­per from 1938 is so crisp that it looks like it might have been tak­en yes­ter­day.

If you have an hour to kill, you can see many, many more col­orized pics from the past over at Inspire 52.

A big H/T to Natal­ie W. G.  for send­ing these our way.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Hand-Col­ored Pho­tographs of 19th Cen­tu­ry Japan

1923 Pho­to of Claude Mon­et Col­orized: See the Painter in the Same Col­or as His Paint­ings

Mark Twain Writes a Rap­tur­ous Let­ter to Walt Whit­man on the Poet’s 70th Birth­day (1889)

Mar­i­lyn Mon­roe Reads Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass (1952)

Jonathan Crow is a Los Ange­les-based writer and film­mak­er whose work has appeared in Yahoo!, The Hol­ly­wood Reporter, and oth­er pub­li­ca­tions. You can fol­low him at @jonccrow. And check out his art blog Veep­to­pus.

Archive of 5,000 Images Document the History of San Francisco and the Vehicles That Put It in Motion

Ferry Showing Present Track Layout

Tak­en at the fog-shroud­ed Fer­ry Build­ing in San Fran­cis­co in Jan­u­ary 1906, just months before a mas­sive earth­quake lev­eled the up-and-com­ing city, the strik­ing image above comes from The San Fran­cis­co Munic­i­pal Trans­porta­tion Agency Pho­to­graph­ic Archive, an archive that pro­vides a “visu­al his­to­ry of the city’s pub­lic trans­porta­tion his­to­ry dat­ing back to the ear­ly 20th Cen­tu­ry.”

FIllmore Hill Cars Air Coupling

Fea­tur­ing a col­lec­tion of glass plate, nitrate and acetate neg­a­tives, the liv­ing archive tells “the sto­ry of San Fran­cis­co, its tran­si­tion from a stretch of sand dunes to an inter­na­tion­al­ly acclaimed city, it’s rise from the rub­ble of the dev­as­tat­ing earth­quake of 1906 and the vital role pub­lic trans­porta­tion played and con­tin­ues to play in revi­tal­iz­ing the city.” The archive con­tains near­ly 5,000 images, all neat­ly divid­ed into 14 col­lec­tions. You can enter the archive and start perus­ing here.

via Metafil­ter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The 1906 San Fran­cis­co Earth­quake: Before and After

Design­er Mas­si­mo Vignel­li Revis­its and Defends His Icon­ic 1972 New York City Sub­way Map

Vin­tage Video: A New York City Sub­way Train Trav­els From 14th St. to 42nd Street (1905)

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