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Paris in Transition: Photographs from the National Gallery of Art
We look at the façade of a five-story building with a pitched roof as if from a building across the street in this square sepia photograph. Vertical rectangular windows are spaced along the lowest two levels of the building, which appears to be constructed with large rectangular stones. There is a squat, arched window over a dark opening at the bottom center. The façade of the next two stories is smooth. Tall, narrow arched windows line the third story and the fourth story has smaller rectangular windows with shutters. Columns frame the central bank of windows in the third and fourth stories. Dormers of the fifth level protrude from the low pitched roof, which nearly reaches the top edge of the photograph. Another house is visible through a narrow alleyway to our right and another shorter house is cropped by the right edge. Some details of the three horse-drawn carriages lining the street in front of the houses are blurry. The image is surrounded by a wide black band with uneven edges.

Upon his arrival in Paris in May 1843, the photographer William Henry Fox Talbot wrote to his mother that "I never saw Paris look so well and gay." In this photograph, Talbot's composition balances the elegance of the architecture with the blur of passing carriages and the intrusion of lampposts to demonstrate the camera's capacity to capture fleeting motion and to chronicle, as he wrote, "whatever it sees...with the same impartiality."

William Henry Fox Talbot, British, 1800–1877, The Boulevards of Paris, 1843, salted paper print from paper negative, New Century Fund, 1997.97.4

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By designing his own lenses that reduced exposure time, Nègre was able to achieve nearly instantaneous photographs, prompting one critic to exclaim:

His lens is as fast as movement. He has seized with an incredible vitality a market scene...the dockers walk, the merchants raise their hands, the chickens tremble under the hand that holds them....It is life itself, and Nègre has stopped it in a hundredth of a second.

Charles Nègre, French, 1820–1880, Scène de Marché au Port de l'Hôtel de Ville, Paris (Market Scene at the Port of the Hotel de Ville, Paris), before February 1852, salted paper print from paper negative, Patrons' Permanent Fund, 2003.74.1

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We seem to stand on a paved walkway running alongside a river as we look across the placid water towards a bridge spanning two banks of an elegant city in this horizontal sepia-toned photograph. Printed in warm, rich tones of brown and ivory, the horizon line comes almost halfway up the composition. A few low, blocky barges and boats line the river in front of us and along the opposite bank. The span of the bridge ahead of us is supported by three shallow arches with descending circles where the arches meet the pillars and flat top of the bridge deck. A long building with rows of windows leading to a high peaked roof runs parallel to the river to our right. More buildings face the river to our left in the distance. A few shadowy forms near the left edge of the photograph, close to us, were created as people moved during the long exposure time needed for the image.

An extraordinarily talented photographer, Gustave Le Gray worked in many genres, including landscapes, portraits, marine views and cityscapes. This photograph lucidly conveys both the spacious and elegant grandeur of this stretch of the Seine and describes the intimate details of daily Parisian life, such as the book and newspaper sellers at left who hawk their wares to passersby.

Gustave Le Gray, French, 1820–1884, The Pont du Carrousel, Paris: View to the West from the Pont des Arts, 1856-1858, albumen print from collodion negative, Patrons' Permanent Fund, 1995.36.94

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In 1859, Nègre embarked on a series of photographs sculpture in the Tuileries, the palace and formal garden complex next to the Louvre. This seventeenth-century garden sculpture represents the abduction of the Athenian princess Orithyia by Boreas, the North Wind. Nègre’s low viewpoint captures the dynamism and spiraling movement of the sculpture, while his use of a large-format glass negative yielded a print with brilliant, sharp detail and richness of tone. The Tuileries gardens and palace, which had suffered damage during the revolution of 1848, were extensively and lavishly restored under Napoleon III.

Charles Nègre, French, 1820–1880, Statue des Tuileries: G. Marsy et A. Flamen: Borée enlevant Orythie, 1859, albumen print from collodion negative, Patrons' Permanent Fund, 1995.36.109

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Named official photographer of the city of Paris in 1862, Marville was commissioned in 1865 to record the streets and buildings that the urban planner Baron Haussmann had slated for destruction. In this photograph of a small street in the Latin Quarter, Marville sensitively captures the light glinting off the water in the gutter, the dampness of the paving stones, and the play of light and shadow against building façades. While these picturesque details charm contemporary viewers nostalgic for a premodern Paris, to planners like Haussmann they served as pictorial evidence of the insalubrious conditions of the city, with its inadequate sanitation and narrow, crowded streets that prevented proper circulation of air.

Charles Marville, French, 1816–c.1879, Rue de la Bûcherie, du cul de sac Saint-Ambroise, 1866-1868, albumen print from collodion negative, Horace W. Goldsmith Foundation through Robert and Joyce Menschel, 2002.144.1

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Although gas lamps were in moderate use in Paris by the end of the eighteenth century, more than twenty thousand new lamps were installed in the 1860s and 1870s, thus effectively turning Paris into the City of Light. Marville was commissioned to photograph each of the ninety-six prototypes for the new lamps, including this one located in the courtyard of the Navy headquarters. In Marville’s formal yet lyrical composition, the lamp bisects the picture plane, creating an exquisite balance between light and dark and between surface and interior depth, beautifully conveying the theme of illumination.

Charles Marville, French, 1816–c.1879, Hôtel de la Marine, c. 1870, albumen print, Diana and Mallory Walker Fund, 2006.23.1

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From the late 1890s to his death in 1927, Eugène Atget made over ten thousand photographs of Paris and its environs. Using a cumbersome, nearly obsolete tripod-mounted view camera, he recorded the myriad facets of urban life at the turn of the century, including old store signs and shop windows; desolate parks; architectural motifs; the narrow streets of old Paris; and the colorful characters who lived and worked there.

Eugène Atget, French, 1857–1927, A la Grappe d'Or, 4 place d'Aligre, 1911, albumen print, Patrons' Permanent Fund, 2002.73.11

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During the last five years of his life, Atget photographed Notre Dame regularly, usually in the early spring before the trees bloomed. Selecting a vantage point that downplays the magnificence of the cathedral, in this photograph Atget creates a pictorial link between the cathedral's spire and flying buttresses and the tree's delicate skein of branches.

Eugène Atget, French, 1857–1927, Notre-Dame, 1922, matte albumen print, Patrons' Permanent Fund, 2002.73.18

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Atget continued to photograph well into the 1920s. Shortly before his death, his work came to the attention of surrealist artists who appreciated his ability to evoke meaning from the seemingly commonplace and banal. In Atget's photographs of desolate streets of old Paris and shop windows haunted by eternally gesturing mannequins, the surrealists recognized their own vision of the city as a dreamscape shot through with desire, memory, and anxiety.

Eugène Atget, French, 1857–1927, Magasin, Avenue des Gobelins, 1925, gelatin silver print, Patrons' Permanent Fund, 1995.36.4

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In this black and white horizontal photograph, an urban street corner is busy with life on a rainy day. The photograph is roughly divided in half horizontally so the lower half shows a the wet pavement of a wide intersection, momentarily clear of people, where two streets meet. The upper half shows shops and buildings along a tree-lined street that runs from the right and recedes at a low angle into left side of the picture, while the intersecting street, which occupies foreground and the bottom half of the image, comes from the left to form a T with the other street. Along the street, there are about 10 people are on foot, while several horse-drawn carriages with large, spoked wheels, driven by caped and top-hatted men, pass through or are parked alongside the curb. Most of the pedestrians hold up dark umbrellas and start to cross the intersection across from us, while only one man, without an umbrella, crosses the street walking away with his back toward us. All of the men wear dark suits with jackets, vests, white shirts with bowtie, and formal hats. A woman accompanied by an umbrella-less man wears a long skirt and matching thigh-length coat over a contrasting buttoned bodice. She holds up her skirts in one hand and her umbrella in the other. A pair of boys, one in a hooded cape and the other in a miniature version of the mens’ suit and umbrella look down as they walk side-by-side, their heads angled toward each other, probably in conversation. Other people, farther back in the scene, move toward us along a wide sidewalk that wraps around the curved façade of a storefront at the left side of the image. Clothing and other wares are displayed outside under an awning, while another display is covered over with a tarp. At the corner, several tall multi-paneled kiosks with domed tops are papered with posters. Across the street is an uninterrupted row of buildings and shops with rows of shuttered windows above. A small triangular slice of sky can be seen between the building at the left and the trees lining the street; its reflection is mirrored on the wet street.

A fierce defender of photography's artistic merit, Alfred Stieglitz often experimented with different printing processes. In this photograph of the busy intersection of the Boulevard des Italiens and the Rue Scribe — the heart of Haussmann’s new Paris — Stieglitz used textured watercolor paper in order to convey the rippled and shimmering appearance of a rain-soaked street.

Alfred Stieglitz, American, 1864–1946, A Wet Day on the Boulevard, Paris, 1894, carbon print, Alfred Stieglitz Collection, 1949.3.108

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Born in Hungary, André Kertész moved to Paris in 1925 and immediately began to explore the city with his camera. In this photograph, a wooden carousel horse in an otherwise deserted Luxembourg gardens seems to oscillate between objecthood and animation, and points to the photographer’s playful sense of humor.

André Kertész, American, born Hungary, 1894–1985, Luxembourg Gardens, Paris, 1925, gelatin silver print, Gift of The André and Elizabeth Kertész Foundation, 1997.123.3

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This print is part of a series of photographs Krull took of the famous Parisian monument, then the world’s tallest building. While the other pictures in the series investigate the structure itself, this image is unique in that it represents the tower using nothing but its shadow, a transient mark on the surrounding landscape made indelible by the camera.

Germaine Krull, French, 1897–1985, Shadow of the Eiffel Tower, 1928, gelatin silver print, R. K. Mellon Family Foundation, 2003.10.1

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Bing, who had studied mathematics and physics before turning to photography in 1929, worked exclusively with the 35 mm Leica camera, which came on the market in 1925. Thanks to its small size, fast shutter speed, and 35 mm film roll which could be rapidly advanced, the Leica enabled her to respond quickly to fleeting events and to experiment with unusual, technically difficult compositions—such as this aggressively cropped view through the tower's ironwork.

Ilse Bing, American, born Germany, 1899–1998, Eiffel Tower, Paris, 1931, gelatin silver print, Gift of The Circle of the National Gallery of Art, 1999.24.1

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In 1929, Kertész as photographer and Brassaï as journalist collaborated on an article devoted to the fortieth anniversary of the tower’s construction. Rather than celebrating the structure’s technological complexity, Kertész’s photograph—originally published with the caption "The Ants"— focuses on the tiny figures that scurry between the shadows cast by the building’s intricate ironwork.

André Kertész, American, born Hungary, 1894–1985, Under the Eiffel Tower, 1929, gelatin silver print mounted on paperboard, Gift of The André and Elizabeth Kertész Foundation, 1996.149.1

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Brassaï was drawn to Paris's boisterous nightlife, chronicling both high society and bohemian revelers. Famous for its transvestite balls, Magic City Dance Hall fascinated Brassaï. He relished the impromptu of an "immense, warm, impulsive fraternity" without regard to class, race, or age.

Brassaï, French, born Transylvania, 1899–1984, Magic City Dance Hall, Rue Cognacq-Jay, Paris, c. 1932, gelatin silver print, Gift of the Collectors Committee, 1998.52.9

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Attracted to their louche atmosphere, Brassaï frequented popular dance halls that were located in a working-class neighborhood. In this photograph, Brassaï's compositional skill is evident in the way he has framed his subjects, with the woman's profile reflected in a mirror. The combination of artifice, playfulness, and formal elegance suggests that, despite the air of spontaneity, this photograph—like many by Brassaï—may have been staged.

Brassaï, French, born Transylvania, 1899–1984, Couple at the Four Seasons Ball, Rue de Lappe, Paris, c. 1932, gelatin silver print, Gift of the Collectors Committee, 1998.38.2

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