“Coining Silver.” Afterimage, vol. 3, no. 9, Mar. 1976, pg. 14.

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Images and Enterprise: Technology and the American Photographic Industry, 1839 to 1925
By Reese V. Jenkins
John Hopkins University Press/371 pp./$20.00 (hb)

The evidence is mounting: the most sizeable contributions to our understanding of photographic history during this next stage of its study will not come from the current establishment of “fine arts”-oriented historians. The framework of their view of photography has already been constructed and, with all its faults, will probably stand for some time. Though there will be alterations—variations on the theme of photography as art—the basic principles have been laid down and future work must consist of adding to, subtracting from, supporting, or refuting what we already have. But study of the medium as effect and cause of a broad range of social, psychological, technological, economic, and even political forces has barely begun, though the promise is of a more complete, and therefore more accurate, understanding of the process and its products. The new perspectives provided by these disciplines allow us very different perceptions and, coupled (or contrasted) with what we already know about the history of photography, may force some considerable—not to say radical—changes in our thought about it.

The most recent case in point is Reese V. Jenkins’ Images and Enterprise, the latest offering in the series, “John Hopkins Studies in the History of Technology.” This is a book which seems to fit well into a series that includes titles like The Mechanical Engineer in America, 1830-1910: Professional Cultures in Conflict and histories of American locomotives and the Franklin Institute, for it is an examination of a technologically complex industry—the photographic industry—and that industry’s fight for a position in the American marketplace. As such, it will undoubtedly have a function in providing a generic example to students of various aspects of American history. At the same time, Jenkins’ straight-on view of photography as a business, pure and simple, will be extremely useful to those of us who, while recognizing the influence of the tool upon the craftsperson, have virtually ignored those who shaped the tools.

Images and Enterprise is refreshing as photo history in that it is more than a simple litany of facts, intoned in chronological order. The facts are there in quantity, but the conceptual underpinnings of the book are Jenkins’ discernment of recurring patterns in the industry and within individual companies, stretching across periods brought on by what he calls the “four ‘triggering’ technological changes.” The four changes Jenkins emphasizes are those which necessitated major shifts in the production technologies of photosensitive materials: the shift from the daguerreotype to collodion negatives and paper prints, that from the wet collodion plate to the dry gelatin plate, the change to roll film, and the coming of cinematography.

It is interesting to compare these proposed central axes of technological change with some of those propounded by earlier writers. For instance, Beaumont Newhall sees gelatin emulsions mainly as a landmark in “the conquest of action,” while to the Gernsheims the gelatin plate was only a step (albeit an important one) in “the evolution of dry plates” (the quoted phrases are chapter titles from their respective books).

So what we have is Jenkins telling us that the introduction of the gelatin dry plate is one of the most important innovations in photographic technology, from the point of view of the market and as a centrally influential technical development, because gelatin preserved photosensitivity and thus allowed factory production of negative material. Newhall and the Gernsheims, on the other hand, see the essential question as one of increased emulsion speed or portability, with gelatin as one element in what each of them sees as the important shift. Clearly, we are not talking about these historians’ choice of words here, or subtle differences in emphasis, but about entirely differing conceptions of photographic history. For to accept the interpretations of Jenkins’ predecessors is to invest the agency for change in the dictates of picture-making concerns, whereas to believe him is to consent to the unromantic view of the photographer as a conservative businessman who resisted the technological advances developed by the producers to increase profits and insure the photographer’s increased dependence upon the industry. The point is that the exact same event in history takes on different degrees of importance relative to the perspective from which we view it.

This picture of photographers as pawns of the business which ostensibly served them is definitely not directly fostered by Jenkins, who maintains a mechanically objective tone throughout the book, and whose major theses have to do with the importance of certain business tactics, introduced late in the nineteenth century, to the growth of the photographic industry as we know it. Yet, most important among these tactics was the widespread use of the merger either to eliminate competition and control prices, or to gain access to auxiliary sectors of the industry (supply, distribution, etc.) in an effort to increase profits. While the author never spells it out, it is obvious not only that the consumer pays (we already knew that), but that considerable pressure was brought to bear on the shape of historical developments and the kinds of pictures produced, the processes used, etc.

Jenkins does not ignore the reciprocal demands and pressures placed by photographers upon suppliers. For example, he contends that it was their conservativism which required direct-positive intermediate steps—the ambrotype and the tintype—between the daguerreotype process and paper photography. Early objection to photographic patents and, much later, antitrust sentiments among the public, are also seen as important considerations for manufacturers. But the final power rests, always, in the hands of the manufacturers, and their hold becomes ever tighter with each new development. The questions which come to mind thus revolve around their influence.

How important was it, for instance, that Scovill and Anthony, the two major photographic jobbers, did not participate in the promotion of the tintype until the early 1870s? Does this fact explain the slowness of the acceptance of that form of photography, as compared with the rapid adoption of the ambrotype (invented about the same time)?

What effect could the price fixing “cooperation” of Anthony and Scovill, of early tintype manufacturers, dry-plate manufacturers, and/or the early movie companies have had?

What was the significance of George Eastman’s calculated development of an entire system of photography which could be completely protected from competition by a dense network of patents and trade secrets, and the subsequent wide promotion of the camera (the first Kodak) and roll film to a mass amateur market? Did we (and our parents and grandparents) create our “snapshot world,” or did Eastman?

In fact, this book deals directly with none of these questions. The author describes, instead, the repeated cycle from limited competition in a newly introduced technology, through intense competition as knowledge spreads and the market grows, and back to oligopoly as businesses consciously organize to halt rampant price cutting and overproduction. He also gives numerous examples of the great value of technological and marketing innovation in this industry. The emphasis is continually—and, one is finally convinced, rightfully—upon the producers.

The reappearance of similar patterns again and again—or the fact that the book grew out of a doctoral dissertation—should not be held against it. It is, actually, a remarkably absorbing volume, laced as it is with scandalous (in their own way) tales of collusion between manufacturers, and extended treatment of George Eastman’s determined pursuit of his goal to “make millions,” if not fairly, at least with originality. (Perhaps the most interesting in this vein is the story of Eastman Kodak’s development of an acetate safety film, in response to fears of government restriction of the dangerously inflammable cine film first used. When a non-inflammable film was finally achieved, Kodak not only eliminated such legal worries for themselves, but actually tried to influence legislators to outlaw the fireprone nitrocellulose film base, hoping to be the only producer of legally acceptable film. The plan failed, and Kodak soon removed the safety film from the market under complaints that it was not as strong as the older film base.)

Other valuable contributions of the book include the readable and comprehensible sorting-out of important patent and antitrust litigation, a portrait of C.E. Kenneth Mees (first director of the Kodak Research Laboratory) as a man with a vision of a better social order to be achieved through the aid of science, and an engrossing account of the successful battle of early independent movie companies against a powerful combine of equipment and material manufacturers and film production companies. Though he never mentions George Eastman’s suicide, the facts of Eastman’s last years as Jenkins presents them (a gradual withdrawal from management coupled with his philanthropic divestiture of most of his ownership of Kodak) are in keeping with the businessman’s farewell to the world (“My work is done”), and add to our understanding of the shift at Kodak from an anachronistic de facto proprietorship under Eastman to its more modern corporate structure. Another essential point of the study is the importance of European technological discovery, with subsequent popularization in the United States through mass production and mass marketing techniques, in the early years of the industry. (Later institutionalization of the research and development functions brought about a better balance in innovation.)

Images and [Enterprise] places overwhelming emphasis on George Eastman and the long series of companies led by him. Author Jenkins recognizes this emphasis in his preface, and provides justification for it in the fact that the Eastman companies were the most important, in economic terms, during the period of greatest mass consumption of photographic supplies. Yet in spite of this, and even with full realization of the value of Kodak as the specific example of general principles, one wonders whether what seems to be more than half of the book need have been devoted to a single company. This mild objection Jenkins’ sense of proportion aside, the latest history of photography must be welcomed as an indispensable addition to that small shelf of standard references on the subject.