835
employment of either waxed paper or albumen on glass
into 1855. All his subsequent imagery was produced
using collodion on glass.
With collodion, he returned to Fontainebleau and
revisited his earlier works on the forest, exploiting the
greater sensitivity of the glass plate but still explor-
ing the pools of light which penetrated deep into the
woodland. In printing some of these later images he
also carried out experiments in combination printing,
combining negatives of the forest walks—exposed
correctly for the foliage—with separately exposed
negatives of sky and cloud. This technique was also
exploited in his series of seascapes from 1855, which
heightened his profi le considerably in the world of
French photography.
Le Gray’s seascapes are remarkable for a number of
reasons, not least of which is the impact they had when
fi rst exhibited. They were striking and powerful, tak-
ing landscape and pictorial photography to new levels
of sophistication both in design and execution. They
were also phenomenally popular, selling in very large
numbers—with contemporary advertisements claiming
sales of over eight hundred prints.
Very little is known of the techniques used in their
production, and they represent both a signifi cant leap
forward for photography and change of direction for Le
Gray. Researchers have determined that they fall into
two categories—those which are genuine single instan-
taneous exposures capturing sea and sky at the same time
(but perhaps manipulated in processing and/or printing)
and those which are the result of careful and controlled
combination printing.
Whilst they met with signifi cant public acclaim, their
reception in the photographic press was mixed—several
reviews citing the ‘unnatural’ relationship between
cloud and sea. Dark and often overpowering skies, shot
directly into the sun, give a moonlight effect to some,
and a sense of an approaching storm in others. One
British reviewer complained that they did not conform
to contemporary expectations that photography would
refl ect truth in nature
Measured by the photometer, a cloud, according to the
illumination, is from a thousand to a million times more
luminous than a terrestrial body. In this picture we doubt
if in any part of it a greater contrast could be found than
in the proportion of 1 to 30. (William Crookes, editor of
The Liverpool & Manchester Photographic Journal 1:6,
15 March 1857.)
Photography’s great dichotomy has always been
the distance between artistic interpretation and truthful
representation. While many of Le Gray’s architectural
studies do conform to the expectations of those who saw
photography’s role as being truthful to nature, the im-
ages which form his major contribution to photography’s
history are now rightly recognised as art.
In 1856 Le Gray moved from his studio in Chemin de
Ronde de la Barrière de Clichy in Paris, to new premises
in the Boulevard de Capucines, premises already partly
occupied by the Bisson Frères, and later by the charis-
matic Nadar (Gaspard-Félix Tournachon).
Given the high profi le of Le Gray’s architectural,
landscape and seascape photography today, it would
be easy, but inappropriate, to categorise him simply as
a photographer of the outdoors. His interest in portrai-
ture predates his engagement with photography, and
the photography of people was a consistent feature of
much of his professional life, particularly the period
between 1854–55 and his departure from Paris in the
early months of 1860.
Fine studio portraits survive of the French Emperor
and Empress, and of leading fi gures from both mili-
tary and civilian life. A small number of nude studies,
photographed on waxed paper, survive from the early
1850s.
In the summer of 1857, Le Gray was commissioned
by the French Court to photograph an innovative mili-
tary development—the creation of a special camp for
the Imperial Guard at Châlon sur Marne, presided over
by the Emperor and Empress themselves. The series of
photographs which resulted from that commission—
panoramas, military portraits and theatrically-staged
tableaux, have, in their conception and execution, much
in common with Roger Fenton’s depiction of the war
in the Crimea two years earlier. Given that the Imperial
Guard had Zouave divisions—as did the British army
in the Crimea, there are obvious similarities in some of
the group tableaux. Despite the advances made with the
wet collodion process since Fenton’s commission, the
large format of Le Gray’s plates, and the cumbersome
nature of his camera, clearly imposed limitations on any
aspirations he may have had about capturing the bustle
and spontaneity of the proceedings.
It is ironic, considering the importance of Le Gray’s
oeuvre, that by 1859 he was apparently facing fi nancial
ruin. Early in the following year, Le Gray et Cie ceased
trading, and the photographer himself left France and
his family for good. He set sail with Alexander Dumas
on a Mediterranean journey which took them into the
midst of Garibaldi’s struggle in Italy—resulting in
a remarkable series of images by Le Gray of battle-
damaged buildings in Palermo and elsewhere. There
is strong evidence that for part of this voyage at least,
he reverted to his original preference for waxed pa-
per—sacrifi cing the enhanced detail of the glass plate,
for the advantages of travelling light and preparing and
processing at leisure.
Le Gray parted company with Dumas in Malta, and
made his way to Lebanon and Egypt, again photograph-
ing extensively wherever he went, and again using large
waxed paper negatives. He remained in Egypt for the