The first forms of photography made their appearances between the late 1820s and early 1840s. By the 1860s, developments in camera technology had advanced the photograph from scientific experimentation into something offering high potential to be art. Its fate, however, was yet to be decided.
Artists weighed in from all angles. Compared to the time required to paint a portrait or a landscape, a photograph was almost instantaneous, with exponentially higher ability to capture detail. In light of this speed, many felt that it was impossible for photography to be true art, driven by true human emotion in the manner traditional artworks had. Instead, they saw the photograph’s unprecedented precision as reason to use it as a tool for rigid documentation with scientific accuracy. Others, however, felt that this efficient representation of detail simply served to broaden the horizons upon which artistic creativity could be expanded, and argued that photography should be considered an unexplored branch on an already-hefty artistic tree.
Today, photography is a commonplace part of life, and it would be safe to argue that much of society welcomes it as a rich and beautifully diverse form of art. Clearly, however, it wasn’t always this simple.
This gallery offers a glimpse of the many elements at the height of society’s mind when photography was first emerging, offering its fruits alongside more established genres of art. It explores the question that circulated among artists of that time: is photography a true art, or simply a scientific process to be perfected?
Baron Jean-Baptiste-Louis Gros, The Salon of Baron Gros, c. 1850-57, Daguerrotype, 2010.23
This daguerreotype by Gros fits well into a visual archive of the Victorian mid-19th century for many of us. Both the image itself and the objects within it are crisp, stiff, and slightly overbearing. Together, they capture the atmosphere that many photographers of this time period aimed for: namely, accurate and organized representation of the world around them through the advanced means provided by the camera. There is little that can be seen in this image that demonstrates creativity on the part of the photographer. Instead, they are simply using the tools at hand to document, and - while there are faint echoes of Dutch Still Life paintings of previous generations - few signs of true artistic creation can be found in this work in the traditional sense.
John Beasley Greene, Medinet-Habu, 1854, Salted Paper Print from Paper Negative, 1989.1063
Greene used photography as a tool to document elements of notable archeology. The detail his photographs captured far surpassed anything a journal entry could offer, and was both far more efficient and far more accurate than a painting or sketch. It left little room for question as to the visual details of the artifacts, allowing scientists and historians a fantastic resource. His Medinet-Habu is a prime example of the practical usage of photography, and it’s easy to see the appeal that this held for those first encountering it.
Antoine-Francois-Jean Claudet, Middle-aged Man with Glasses Holding Pocket Watch, c.1844-59, Daguerreotype with Applied Color, 2015.400.67
A prime example of Victorian-era portraiture, this daguerreotype by Claudet is stiff and starchy. Rather than giving the photograph’s sitter elements of humanity - ie. a familiar background or a symbolic object - he plops his subject down and poses him to perfection, directing him to look away from and beyond the camera. While this hints of commissioned portraits of royalty from the past, such as The Amanda Portrait (artist unknown), Claudet’s artistic involvement appears fairly limited. It can perhaps serve as a bridge for the gap between the more calculated, scientific photographers and those who saw the field as an art, made for expression.
Rembrandt van Rijn, Self-Portrait, 1660, Oil on canvas, 14.40.618
This oil painting by Rembrandt is a well-known classic in the world of traditional art. Dating back to the mid-17th century, it stands as a sturdy example of an art genre that has influenced many subsequent generations. His use of contrast and chiaroscuro creates emphasis on the sole character (himself) in the center of the painting. Although there are no additional objects or backgrounds to give context and guide the viewer towards a specific narrative, the softly knit brow and the open gaze with which Rembrandt paints himself sway the interpretation of the viewer and essentially make a glimpse of his soul visible. Instead of conventional posing, he conveys a subtle point of his own humanity through the artistic choices he made in painting this self-portrait.
Rembrandt van Rijn, Isaac and Rebecca (The Jewish Bride’), c.1669, Oil on canvas, Rijksmuseum Collection
Isaac and Rebecca is a lesser-known piece of Rembrandt’s work, tenderly depicting human love and relationship. Much like Cameron’s The Parting of Lancelot and Guinevere - a photographic piece to follow centuries down the road - this painting utilizes body language, physical touch, and the gaze of the two characters’ eyes to give the viewer a glimpse into a moment in this narrative. Rembrandt uses a wealth of extra details to express his own creativity, as found in the rich folds of cloth, the silkiness of the hair, and the overlap of Isaac and Rebecca’s hands. His careful artistic curation of elements throughout the creation of this painting is evident, and leads to an intuitive experience of the work as a whole.
Julia Margaret Cameron, The Parting of Lancelot and Guinevere, 1874, Albumen Silver Print from Glass Negative, 52.524.3.10
The Parting of Lancelot and Guinevere holds echoes of painters of days of old, especially those depicting a narrative. Here - much like Rembrandt's Isaac & Rebecca - a glimpse of storyline is conveyed through elements like body language and emphasized through chiaroscuro. The clasped hands and downcast eyes of the two figures make it evident that this is only an instant's worth of what is clearly a longer tale. And indeed, it is: Cameron was commissioned by Alfred Lord Tennyson himself to photograph illustrations for his writings on Arthurian times. He knew Cameron personally, delighted in her creative works, and wanted that same creativity to pour into his own volumes of fiction. Although this is a photograph, taken in the span of no more than ten minutes, Cameron gave high levels of attention to all the details within the setup in order to most effectively highlight the elements of the story she wanted to tell. She took creative liberties to emphasize the humanity of and love between these two characters even though more Victorian tellings of their story would perhaps focus more on the evils of their adultery, and in doing so, was arguably creating art.
Julia Margarget Cameron, Julia Jackson, 1867, Albumen Silver Print from Glass Negative, 1996.99.2
Julia Jackson was Cameron's niece, and one of her favorite subjects in her images. She is present in a number of Cameron's most famous works, and - as a result - can be seen at various stages throughout her life. Here she is 21, photographed just one month before the first of the two marriages in her lifetime.
This hazy portrait holds little in common with other Victorian portraits done at the time. Daguerreotypes like Claudet's present stiff, highly posed half-body shots, where the figure stares off into the distance to the left of the camera. Cameron's image, on the other hand, has the subject looking directly into the camera with a quiet gaze. It is taken in a manner so simple and unaffected that one could imagine themselves to be sitting across from Julia herself, and harkens back to Rembrandt’s own works - his Self-Portrait especially. This comparison is a fair one to make, as Cameron readily acknowledged her love of Rembrandt and his contemporaries. The hazy quality of the image in itself demonstrates that Cameron’s aim was artistic experimentation - not scientific perfection of exposure and stillness - intended to illuminate the soul of the subject, much like Rembrandt’s own works generations before.
Roger Fenton, Reclining Odalisque, 1858, Salted Paper Print from Glass Negative, 1997.382.34
Known as one of the first-ever war photographers - and in that sense, one of the first documentary photographers as well - much of Roger Fenton’s career centered around beautifully composed images of the Crimean war. The image above, however, is part of a smaller series engaging in a Victorian depiction of Orientalist themes. Here, Fenton intentionally imitates an age-old character throughout broader art history: the odalisque. She is traditionally a reclined female of some sorts, with sensuality accentuated to indicate her position in the royal harem. Fenton’s odalisque does the same. He uses creative expression within the realm of photography to claim his own version of this classic theme, drawing inspiration much like many other painters before him.
REFERENCES:
Rosen, Jeffrey. 2016. Julia Margaret Cameron’s “Fancy Subjects.” Manchester University Press.
Lubow, Arthur. 2025. “Julia Margaret Cameron, Portraitist Who Broke the Rules.” The New York Times, June 19, 2025.
Trachtenberg, Alan, et al. Classic Essays on Photography. New Haven, Leete’s Island Books, [Post], Cop, 2005.
Hirsch, Robert. Seizing the Light : A Social & Aesthetic History of Photography. 3rd ed., New York, Ny, Routledge, 2017.
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