Henri Cartier-Bresson.  1908-2004.

Today, the 5^th of August 2004 we got news that the greatest 20^th century photographer was buried yesterday after an unannounced death two days ago.  He was 93 and had simply stopped eating and died. 

This news triggered off a train of thought and I went into my files to see whether I could find a piece I had written about Magnum, the picture agency founded by Cartier-Bresson and others after WW2.   All I could find was a short sentence in my memoirs about the day I door-stepped the Magnum office and kissed Eve Arnold’s hand before going out to lunch with Philip Jones-Griffiths.   

The problem about this is that there is a story connected with this which I am sure I’ve already written but can’t find it.  There is only one sensible thing to do, write it down again for posterity.   

GEORGE RODGER, DAVID HURN AND THE LEICAS. 

George Rodger was one of the founding members of Magnum and knew Cartier-Bresson well.  Like him, he favoured the Leica 35mm camera because of it’s small size, quality of image and simplicity.  As Magnum grew in importance Leica saw an opportunity to promote their camera by making sure that the best images were being made on their cameras. 

At some point, I don’t know the date, they brought out a special edition camera called the Leica ‘P’ which I don’t think was ever put on general sale, it was given by Leica to famous Leica users.  Cartier-Bresson and George Rodger were two of these. 

Sometime in 1982 David Moore , the Principal of Nelson and Colne College, asked me to arrange a seminar on photography for students on a course run by his private company, Sovereign Education.  I can’t remember what the connection was but I came up with the idea of getting George Rodger to do the seminar.  As far as I know he had never spoken publicly about his photography but I contacted him at his home in Smarden, near Ashford in Kent and went down to visit him.  He agreed to do the seminar but tragically the course never happened because not enough students signed up for the course.  However, during my stay he told me a story about his days at Magnum. 

He said that Leica gave him two Leica ‘P’ bodies and a full set of lenses to go with them and he used them for years with no problems at all.  One day he was asked to do a picture of Harold Wilson for the front cover of Time Magazine so he arranged a meeting, trotted off, blew two rolls of Tri-X off and headed back for his office where he gave the films to his technician for developing. 

Shortly afterwards the technician came in and suggested that George might like to view the films as there was a problem.  George told me he went in and was astounded to see that he’d cut off the top of Harold Wilson’s head in every frame bar the last one.  This frame was sent off to Time, they printed it and George got the fee but he was left with the puzzle as to what had gone wrong.  Eventually George found out that the problem was that his new tri-focal glasses were interacting with the viewfinder on the Leica in such a way that he was getting a false picture of what he was framing in the camera.   

George said that as this happened he had an offer laid on his desk from Olympus Cameras offering him a full outfit of their new 35mm camera and lenses if he would use them exclusively.  They were after the same deal that Leica had wanted.  He tried one of the cameras, found that the framing suited him and his glasses, liked the lens quality and the decreased weight and so went over to using the new cameras. 

As his Leicas were redundant he eventually sold them second-hand to a friend of his and forgot about the matter until he was talking to someone one day who noticed he was using Olympus cameras and asked him what he had done with his Leicas.  George told him and was astounded when the man pointed out that the Leicas were unique and worth far more than he had sold them for.  George got on to the friend to whom he had sold the cameras only to find that they had been stolen from a hotel room in New York.  End of story and two disgruntled snappers. 

Now life can be very strange and it is a constant source of wonder to me the way connections become re-activated years after an event. 

In July 2001 in an entirely different context I was invited to take part in a week long workshop in the Elan Valley in Wales run by the BBC to test the technology of digital storytelling.  One of the other participants was a man called David Hurn who is, in my mind anyway, one of our best contemporary photographers and who works very much in the same way that the original Magnum agency was founded.  We got on well and had some very interesting conversations during the course of which I told him my George Rodger story.   

I noticed that he was paying particular attention and when I finished he said that he was amazed.  It turned out that he was the man who had bought the cameras off George and had them stolen in New York.  He knew nothing about the previous history and so between us we finally arrived at the complete story.   

David was very pleased to get the cameras off George and had taken them all to New York to use on an assignment.  I say ‘all’ but that’s not quite true, he had sold one body to Philip Jones-Griffiths, another Magnum photographer and added incidentally that he though Philip had put it straight into a safe deposit and that with hindsight, he should have done the same! 

When David arrived in New York he had to go out for an appointment immediately and left all his baggage in the hotel room.  When he came back he had been robbed and the cameras and lenses had gone.  However, he said there was something very strange about it as his money, credit cards, passport and travel documents were with the cameras but they hadn’t been touched.  It was almost as if someone knew exactly what they were after.  He informed the police but the cameras were never seen again as far as I know. 

So there you are, I’ve recorded the story for posterity in less time than it would have taken to search for it.  Isn’t it marvellous how the long arm of coincidence reaches out over the years and can eventually fill in the gaps for you.  Truth can be stranger than fiction….. 

[As usual, the mind plays tricks over the years.  Here’s mail I received from David which corrects some of my mistakes.] 

Dear Stanley.

Thank you for your thoughts.

I must say I heard of the death of Henri with incredulity, he seemed immortal - his work is.

For your future reference, a few minor corrections. Cartier-Bresson was 95 at his death. The camera you talk about was the original MP camera not P. (they have just made another MP copy). George sold me three cameras not two - I sold one to Phillip. The advantage of the MP at that time was that it was the only Leica that took a rapid wind on the bottom. It is true that Phillip did put the camera into a safe but I suspect that was much later. I am sure he originally used it. The cameras at the time were not really worth that much as people were not collectors at that time. Certainly George would not have phoned me - re the value of the camera - he was far to much of a gentleman to do such a thing.

Life is good for me - I never seem to stop working. - I really should slow down but there seems so much to do and so little time to do it in. Everything I have to carry seems to be getting heavier.

Best David. 

SCG/05 August 2004


Stanley Challenger Graham




Barlick View
stanley at barnoldswick.freeserve.co.uk

(1819-1869)
Born in Rochdale in 1819, the son of a Lancashire mill-owner and banker, Roger Fenton is now best remembered for his definitive photographs of the Crimean War. But, Fenton had a much broader portfolio, which often misses public attention.
After studying at London University, Fenton studied art in London, and later in Paris under the painter Paul Delaroche. However, having had little success as a painter, in 1844 he returned to London and studied law.
In 1851 he went to Paris and was immediately impressed by the work of French photographers. In 1852 he visited Russia, and his photographs were amongst the first ever to be seen in England and immediately earned him artistic notoriety.
It was he who proposed the setting up of a London Photographic Society, and in January 1853 the origins of what was to become the Royal Photographic Society were set in place, with Fenton acting as its secretary for the next 3 years.
As a now distinguished proponent of the new art form, Fenton photographed Queen Victoria's family, and was appointed as the official photographer to the British Museum.
Soon after the outbreak of the Crimean War in 1853 the inadequacy of medical provision became evident, more troops dying though disease than injury, and in 1855, in response to disastrous criticism of the government's handling of the war, Fenton was commissioned to photograph it, and produced over 350 pictures of the conflict, which are largely responsible for his abiding reputation. Later, criticisms of the legitimacy of his photos were made, as it was perceived to be little more than a propaganda exercise, as he was bound to show the wellbeing of the troops, and in any case he wanted to sell his pictures, and the more gruesome realistic ones were not thought to be commercially viable.
After the war he published bound volumes of his prints, but they did not sell as well as he had hoped. From a commercial viewpoint, photographs were not yet permanent enough and tended to fade over time, as an adequate "fix" was not yet available.
Fenton also produced a number of Stereoscopic images, a popular format at the time. His pictures of architecture, landscapes, cathedrals and still life subjects proved much more popular. Inexplicably, his series of photographic prints from an expedition to the Scottish highlands were never published and by 1861 he had given up photography completely and returned to practicing law.
Roger Fenton died in 1869 at the age of forty-nine. Over 800 of Fenton's photographs are known to exist and 600 prints are kept in the Royal Photographic Society archives.

Leaders of industry who used home life as symbol of power