Pages from Newcastle on Glass

Introduction: about glass plate photography
The word “camera” meant “chamber” in Latin, and long before the now-familiar devices for capturing and
reproducing images were devised, people invented their forerunner, the “camera obscura”.
A camera obscura (literally, “darkened room”) was typically a box or room with a small hole in one side
through which light <strong>from</strong> the outside world could enter, casting an inverted image on the opposite wall
inside. The ancients correctly deduced <strong>from</strong> camera obscuras that light travels in straight lines, and in more
recent centuries some artists used large portable camera obscuras to help them create two-dimensional
pictures by allowing an image to be projected onto canvas and tracing it with pencils or paint.
From time to time, would-be inventors wrestled with the challenge of permanently fixing the images
projected into camera obscuras, but it wasn’t until the 19th century that this goal was finally achieved.
Experimenters tried all sorts of chemical mixtures before managing to produce recognisable photographs
in the 1830s. Early systems using glass plates to support the light-sensitive emulsions were cumbersome and
difficult to use, but eventually a dry-plate system evolved, bringing photography within reach of enthusiasts.
Glass was ultimately supplanted by flexible film, which has now mostly given way to digital technology. But
for a number of decades glass negatives were the standard, and many photographers in the Hunter Region
produced images using this technology. Despite their seeming fragility, large numbers of glass plate negatives
have survived. Collections are regularly “rediscovered” in garages, under houses and in attics, and although
they are often affected by damp and poor storage, they usually yield at least some worthwhile images.
Modern scanning techniques have made it much easier to reformat the images <strong>from</strong> physical negatives
to digital positives, and powerful image manipulation software has replaced dark-room techniques for
enhancing digitised pictures.
This book is designed chiefly as a nod to the days of glass plate photography, in the context of the local
history of <strong>Newcastle</strong> and the Hunter. It follows in the footsteps of earlier books - particularly those by Norm
Barney and Bert Lovett - that showcased the prolific output of Novocastrian photographer Ralph Snowball.
The Hunter had numerous other photographers in the glass plate years, however, and this book goes some
small way towards presenting a portion of the work of some of them. The kernel of this collection came to us
<strong>from</strong> the estate of the late Ken Magor, whose accumulations of photographs were the basis of our first books.
We have tried to avoid too much repetition of photographs that have appeared in our earlier books, even
though that has meant omitting some of our best and favourite glass plate images. A handful, however, have
been republished. A very small number of the images in the book are taken <strong>from</strong> film negatives or prints, but
only where we felt their inclusion was important for one reason or another.
One of the virtues of glass plate negatives is their potential for producing images of great detail that
are capable of being magnified many times. That’s partly due to the size of the negatives, but also to the
emulsions used and the quality of the cameras and lenses used to make the photographs. Much also depends
on the photographers, of course, and the skill they brought to the issues of exposure, framing and focus.
We have tried to highlight these virtues of the negatives selected by enlarging details of interest and
presenting them alongside the uncropped full-plate images.
Apart <strong>from</strong> the images <strong>from</strong> the Ken Magor estate, other collections were given or loaned <strong>from</strong> a variety
of sources. Norm and Betty Mead provided some stunning plates, as did Daphne Barney, Phil Warrren, Col
Skelton and Lyn Merrilees. Brian J. Andrews at the Sir Edgeworth David Memorial Museum at Kurri Kurri
kindly let us use some images <strong>from</strong> the rediscovered collection of photographer Alexander Galloway. Still
more were loaned to us by Peter Barden.
The astonishing panorama of <strong>Newcastle</strong> in the early 20th century came to us <strong>from</strong> Bruce Mullen, who
bought the plates at a garage sale and passed them on. They were a mystery for some time until we realised
the images joined at the edges!
Some of the most beautiful and technically superb images are <strong>from</strong> plates loaned by Anne Hudson. These
plates are the work of her grandfather, William Fraser of Hamilton.
Gionni Di Gravio, at the University of <strong>Newcastle</strong>, has been - as always - obliging and generous with his
knowledge and with access to items in the university’s extensive archives. To all these donors and lenders we