.jpg?w=1)
Lot Essay
'The Debussy of the camera' was the apt description given to Baron de Meyer by Cecil Beaton, who greatly admired de Meyer’s ability
to create such seductive e.ects of light – impressionistic, soft, diffused yet somehow alive, sparkling, as in the present image – just
as he admired the haloes of light that added a spectral glamour and magic to his portrait or fashion studies.
De Meyer's Water Lilies is a masterful demonstration of his distinctive aesthetic, which might effectively be described as using his camera and lenses to paint with light. We are reminded of his admiration for the work of Claude Monet, whose portrait he was later to make. Perhaps de Meyer’s Water Lilies was inspired by Monet's nymphéas series, initiated in 1899, and of which the photographer was surely aware.
De Meyer was a member of the key associations – first the Linked Ring in Britain, then the Photo-Secession in New York – whose members saw themselves, at the close of the 19th century, as the champions of photography’s place among the noble arts in the face of the medium’s increasing popularisation and potential debasement. The Secessionists favoured recherché printing techniques that involved much skill in pursuit of subtle, painterly textures and effects. Platinum printing was one such process: the light-sensitive chemicals absorbed into the paper rather than contained in a layer of emulsion and offering a matte surface with a very subtle tonal range. It is telling that the two recorded platinum prints of Water Lilies, an image greatly admired and celebrated in its day, were acquired by Alfred Stieglitz, the foremost American champion of photography, and Karl Struss, a distinguished fellow Secessionist. The Stieglitz print was gifted to the Metropolitan Museum of Art; the present print is the one owned by Struss.
De Meyer's predominant subject matter was the beau monde that so fascinated him – exemplars of beauty, glamour and elegance – he built a highly successful career as a photographer for Vogue and for Harper's Bazaar, where his images set new standards of creativity. His reputation has to some extent been coloured, and his brilliance not always fully acknowledged, as a consequence of his engagement with the commercial world.
A thoughtful introduction by esteemed MoMA curator John Szarkowski to a fine book on de Meyer published in 1994, reminds us of the high respect accorded the photographer by pre-eminent and influential collector Sam Wagstaff, when he observes that ’Sam Wagstaff
had spent half a lifetime in the arts before becoming interested in (passionate about) photographs; he was intimately familiar with
contemporary art, and also confident not only with older painting and sculpture but with a wide range of decorative arts, and also with
those arts that are too seldom seen in museums... It is not surprising that Wagstaff should have recognised the virtue in the work of Baron de Meyer, when the photography world in general saw him as a minor character in an ephemeral Edwardian operetta. Wagstaff’s own mother, Olga Piokoska, is said to have been a fashion artist. Perhaps she knew de Meyer. In any case Wagstaff might have learned at her knee that not even the characters of the most artificial worlds are beyond the reach of art.’ (J. Szarkowski, W. Hartshorn and A. Ehrenkranz, A Singular Elegance. The photographs of Baron Adolph de Meyer, San Francisco 1994 (illustrated, pp. 50-51).
NOTES ON THE PROCESS
Platinum printing, the finest monochrome printing type, produces a large tonal range that is unobtainable in silver prints. This is achieved through the combination of light sensitive ferric oxalate and image-forming platinum metals (or palladium metals, after World
War I when platinum became quite expensive). The Pictorialists experimented with photographic processes such as platinum printing, to achieve painterly affects, as well as choosing different paper types – the work they produced was a counterargument to the belief photography was purely mechanical and could not be high art.
to create such seductive e.ects of light – impressionistic, soft, diffused yet somehow alive, sparkling, as in the present image – just
as he admired the haloes of light that added a spectral glamour and magic to his portrait or fashion studies.
De Meyer's Water Lilies is a masterful demonstration of his distinctive aesthetic, which might effectively be described as using his camera and lenses to paint with light. We are reminded of his admiration for the work of Claude Monet, whose portrait he was later to make. Perhaps de Meyer’s Water Lilies was inspired by Monet's nymphéas series, initiated in 1899, and of which the photographer was surely aware.
De Meyer was a member of the key associations – first the Linked Ring in Britain, then the Photo-Secession in New York – whose members saw themselves, at the close of the 19th century, as the champions of photography’s place among the noble arts in the face of the medium’s increasing popularisation and potential debasement. The Secessionists favoured recherché printing techniques that involved much skill in pursuit of subtle, painterly textures and effects. Platinum printing was one such process: the light-sensitive chemicals absorbed into the paper rather than contained in a layer of emulsion and offering a matte surface with a very subtle tonal range. It is telling that the two recorded platinum prints of Water Lilies, an image greatly admired and celebrated in its day, were acquired by Alfred Stieglitz, the foremost American champion of photography, and Karl Struss, a distinguished fellow Secessionist. The Stieglitz print was gifted to the Metropolitan Museum of Art; the present print is the one owned by Struss.
De Meyer's predominant subject matter was the beau monde that so fascinated him – exemplars of beauty, glamour and elegance – he built a highly successful career as a photographer for Vogue and for Harper's Bazaar, where his images set new standards of creativity. His reputation has to some extent been coloured, and his brilliance not always fully acknowledged, as a consequence of his engagement with the commercial world.
A thoughtful introduction by esteemed MoMA curator John Szarkowski to a fine book on de Meyer published in 1994, reminds us of the high respect accorded the photographer by pre-eminent and influential collector Sam Wagstaff, when he observes that ’Sam Wagstaff
had spent half a lifetime in the arts before becoming interested in (passionate about) photographs; he was intimately familiar with
contemporary art, and also confident not only with older painting and sculpture but with a wide range of decorative arts, and also with
those arts that are too seldom seen in museums... It is not surprising that Wagstaff should have recognised the virtue in the work of Baron de Meyer, when the photography world in general saw him as a minor character in an ephemeral Edwardian operetta. Wagstaff’s own mother, Olga Piokoska, is said to have been a fashion artist. Perhaps she knew de Meyer. In any case Wagstaff might have learned at her knee that not even the characters of the most artificial worlds are beyond the reach of art.’ (J. Szarkowski, W. Hartshorn and A. Ehrenkranz, A Singular Elegance. The photographs of Baron Adolph de Meyer, San Francisco 1994 (illustrated, pp. 50-51).
NOTES ON THE PROCESS
Platinum printing, the finest monochrome printing type, produces a large tonal range that is unobtainable in silver prints. This is achieved through the combination of light sensitive ferric oxalate and image-forming platinum metals (or palladium metals, after World
War I when platinum became quite expensive). The Pictorialists experimented with photographic processes such as platinum printing, to achieve painterly affects, as well as choosing different paper types – the work they produced was a counterargument to the belief photography was purely mechanical and could not be high art.