Early photography in New Orleans as part of a history of looking in transit
Before the daguerreotype process entered New Orleans as an apparatus, or even as a cased image transported by the postal system, it arrived as an idea. An initial report on the technology was published in the âLate from Europeâ column during June 1839, two months before the daguerreotypeâs official unveiling in Paris but months after unofficial lectures held to reveal its properties.4 New Orleansâ Daily Picayune reported that: âAnimal magnetism and the Daguerreotype are exciting great sensation in the scientific world â Men of acknowledged talent are delivering lectures on them to crowded and respectable audiencesâ.5
This coupling, in a column otherwise routinely concerned with summarising news of English political intrigue and European trade treaties, grafted together the daguerreotype and âanimal magnetismâ, or mesmerism, to imply a shared sense of novel spectacle. The âgreat sensationâ alluded to the watershed embodied by the new technologies, but did not deride the âcrowded and respectableâ European audiences in the same way that Maurissetâs Parisian caricature of the same year had cast them as hysterical hordes. In many ways, this simple sentence foretold the reception and evolution of photography in the American South. Rather than being anticipated as a threat to established art, or a technology to police, the daguerreotype entered as a subject of playful banter with elusive properties.
During the year that followed, the unprecedented verisimilitude of the invention was a point of focus for media reports, not just about the daguerreotype itself, but beyond it as well. The perfect facsimile of the daguerreotypeâs technology provided a language through which to convey repetition and doubling in other aspects of public life. For example, in January 1840 the editor of New Orleansâ Daily Picayune was accused of plagiarising editorials from a small North Carolina paper. He appealed to his readers, asking rhetorically whether the charge could be reversed and had, âMaster Lemay [from North Carolina] been propping daguerreotype reflectors at us while we were writingâ.6 The curious compilation of âreflectorsâ and âdaguerreotypeâ betrays only a partial knowledge of the technology. Daguerreotype operators were, in fact, beginning to employ reflectors to focus additional light onto their sitters, and mirrors to reverse the inverted image that entered their cameras. These accessories were not generally used to surreptitiously take a picture, with any level of candidness impossible to achieve due to lengthy exposure times. The editorâs retort highlights how, even before the daguerreotypeâs widespread commercial use, knowledge of the cameraâs technical processes of inverting, capturing and imprinting reality were being metaphorically evoked as a literary device, in this case to deflect vexing allegations.
The daguerreotype was understood in New Orleans, as it was in Europe, by calling on a vocabulary already established in a diverse spectrum of traditional picture formats.7 The daguerreotype was discussed through the language of drawing and engraving; its physical palm-sized portrait presentation was conceptualised in terms of the modalities of miniature painting and, perhaps more particular to New Orleans, its ability to âcaptureâ a scene was theatricalised. Alexander Wolcottâs 1840s experiments with the media in New York were described alternately in the New Orleans press as âDaguerreotype likenessesâ and âDaguerreotype miniaturesâ.8 Daguerreotypes made by the Philadelphia-based chemist Dr Goddard, in the same year, were similarly described as âlikenessesâ; this term had already been widely employed for realist painted portraiture for half a century and had become inextricably tied to photography.9 These brief and early despatches about East Coast American studios, succinct and straightforward, were followed by journalistic flourishes in the form of a series of New Orleans columns entitled âDaguerreotype Drawingsâ. The unattributed author(s) of these textual, rather than pictorial, vignettes regaled readers with exhaustively detailed accounts of the cityâs (presumably already familiar) landmarks. They described front and side views of structures such as the Old Cathedral and Carrollton House, detailing qualities of the light and including fleeting quirks such as: âyou may catch a glimpse of half a dozen young fellows in round jackets flirting decantersâ.10 Such prose aimed for the same style of unselective scrutiny the contributor imagined the yet-to-be experienced daguerreotype process might provide. Yet, the carnival city was also a place where innovation was the topic of playful repartee. The daguerreotypeâs famous verisimilitude was gently mocked in reports such as that relaying news that Herr Driesbach in Boston had exposed a portrait of a circus tiger: âThe likeness is so perfect that those who look at it seem to hear the animal growlâ.11 Bourgeois East Coast experiments with the daguerreotype were the subject of mockery in a topsy-turvy column on new inventions: âa Yankee has thrown the Daguerreotype in the shade by an artificial sun, which he carries about with him and takes likenesses at nightâ.12
This speculative discussion of photography in New Orleans represents the technologyâs first â often overlooked â reproduction and dissemination: its forward travel as an idea that preceded its circulation and arrival as a physical apparatus.13 This context is significant because it fed a growing curiosity, manifest in concerted efforts to comprehend photography through second-hand knowledge. In New Orleans during 1839 and early 1840, the daguerreotype was anticipated for its almost unbelievable capacity to replicate sight. Its playful handling and derision in the press points to a mounting appetite for the process to be seen and experienced.
It is hard to say who took the first photograph in New Orleans or from which direction the first camera arrived, whether overland or by sea. Certainly, the Frenchman J.B. Pointel du Portail advertised daguerreotype demonstrations and an exhibition in Lâabeille de la Nouvelle-OrlĂ©ans as early as February 1840. He notified the public that he would âexpose several beautiful specimens of local sceneryâ, but it is unverifiable whether these plates were ever made or the exhibition hung.14 A very early, if not the first, advertisement for a daguerreotype camera was posted, not by an optician or fancy goods store, which would have usually carried such technologies, but by a hairdresser. Mr Theodore, for reasons undisclosed, was selling a daguerreotype apparatus from his 150 Chartres Street salon in July 1840. He invited the public to come and âviewâ the camera, but notice of its sale was brief suggesting his ignorance of its operation or an absence of the component plates and chemistry.15 In early August, Theodore seems to have found a way around earlier obstacles and his listing was revised to announce that he was opening his premises to the public to see an âexperiment [âŠ] made by Mr Lion [âŠ] the drawing remitted therefr...