On March 29, the temporary exhibition Through a Different Lens: Three Connecticut Women Photographers will be wrapping up, which means that the various events and presentations and tours that I’ve been doing are also just about over. Continue reading
History of photography enthusiasts might recognize the quote above, generally attributed to Arthur Fellig, a photojournalist in the 1930s and ‘40s. His advice – half technical, half philosophical – was based on the method he found worked best for him, when all cameras were manually operated. The first half refers to the aperture setting on a camera lens; f/8 is an aperture that typically provides optimum sharpness, plenty of depth of field for quick focus, and flexibility to adjust the shutter speed. Setting his camera lens to (f)8 gave him the ability to capture fleeting moments, without wasting time to make technical adjustments. Perhaps in the second half Mr. Fellig (nicknamed Weegee for his uncanny ability to be first on the scene) was suggesting that while it’s always good to be ready for a moment, it’s better to be there when it happens. Continue reading
Our newest exhibit, “Through a Different Lens: Three Connecticut Women Photographers”, will be open October 11, 2013 – March 29, 2014. That’s next week! You’ve got 5 months to check it out, but please tell me why you would wait. You might think you have time to roll in some lazy Saturday afternoon in the hazy near-future, but have you already forgotten the snow-mountain blizzard of February 2013? The tree-attack ice storm of October 2011? This is New England, people. It’s October. Get out while you can. (And I don’t mean move to Arizona. Or maybe I do.)
These three Connecticut women knew photography and they knew storms. Marie Kendall and Harriet Thorne hauled heavy tripods and viewfinders before you had a cell phone. Rosalie McKenna developed film before you could annoy your friends with social media. They came from different times and different places, but like all of us hardy (resigned) New England folk, when the snow started flyin’ they strapped on their boots and started snappin’.
Blizzard of February 2013, Bristol, Connecticut. Photograph by a five-year old female photographer from the top of a snow mountain created by an ineffective, rusty old snow blower that almost ran over her dad.
Ben Gammell is the Coordinator of Interpretive Projects at the Connecticut Historical Society
In this age of smart phones and Instagram, photography and sharing photos is all within the palm of our hands. Most of us are equipped with cameras on our phones that eclipse the bulky cameras of yesterday on many levels. Continue reading
Nothing is more ephemeral than a garden, unless it’s a person. Gardens change from season to season and most often die with their creators, leaving nothing but memories. Photography has the magical ability to bring back lost gardens and people long dead. Helen Keller had a garden full of fragrant flowers at her home, Arcan Ridge, in Easton, Connecticut, where she lived for more than thirty years following the death of her companion and teacher, Annie Sullivan. Deaf and blind, Keller was able to pursue an active career as a writer and humanitarian. In this photograph by Rosalie Thorne McKenna, which was given to CHS in 2011 by the Rosalie Thorne McKenna Foundation, we can see how Keller, who died at Arcan Ridge on June 1, 1968, was able to experience and appreciate nature through the fragrance of the flowers with which she surrounded herself. To find out more, go to YourPublicMedia.
inside the CHS 