Walt Whitman and Photography

Walt Whitman, New York, 1871.

“No man has been photographed more than I have,” Walt Whitman once said, and with the exception of Mark Twain, this was true. Whitman held a fascination with portrait photography since its introduction in the United States in the early 1840s. He sat for numerous portraits over the course of his life, and 130 survive today. Taken together, they document an idea that Whitman had tried to capture in his poetry: the identity of the self as it changes over time and space.

Portrait photography also addressed Whitman’s concern with the creation of a truly democratic art form. His own poetry often sought to capture the experience of the marginalized and overlooked, dealing with moments and people that had not been previously thought about in poetic terms. For Whitman, photography captured this same honesty: “I find I often like the photographs better than the oils. They are perhaps mechanical, but they are honest.” Indeed, unlike the painter’s brush, the camera could not freely edit its subject matter. As a portrait technique, it was also much more readily available to the masses, which perhaps made it democratic in the truest sense.

Stereographs were a Victorian novelty that sought to transform standard photographs into dynamic, “three-dimensional” landscapes. By taking a photo from two slightly different angles and viewing them side-by-side through a lens, the images would combine and appear to have depth. Although the idea had existed as early as 1838, it was not until the Great Exhibition of 1851 at the London Crystal Palace that a portable version of a stereoscope was popularized. Soon thereafter, stereographic images became ubiquitous in American homes, and were used to transport the viewer to locations all around the world without having to leave their parlor. In addition to exotic locales, popular figures and celebrities were common stereographic images, including Walt Whitman. This technology certainly contributed to the widespread proliferation of Whitman’s visage, which only served to reinforce his fascination with photography’s democratic appeal.

Around 1876, Whitman penned a poem that addressed his fascination with photography, specifically its ability to allow one to confront the self. According to the Walt Whitman Archive, it was written in response to an engraving by William J. Linton based on a photograph of Whitman taken by George C. Potter in about 1871.

OUT FROM BEHIND THIS MASK
(To Confront a Portrait)
1
OUT from behind this bending rough-cut mask,
These lights and shades, this drama of the whole,
This common curtain of the face contain’d in me for me, in you
for you, in each for each,
(Tragedies, sorrows, laughter, tears—O heaven!
The passionate teeming plays this curtain hid!)
This glaze of God’s serenest purest sky,
This film of Satan’s seething pit,
This heart’s geography’s map, this limitless small continent, this soundless sea;
Out from the convolutions of this globe,
This subtler astronomic orb than sun or moon, than Jupiter, Venus,Mars,
This condensation of the universe, (nay here the only universe,
Here the idea, all in this mystic handful wrapt;)
These burin’d eyes, flashing to you to pass to future time,
To launch and spin through space revolving sideling, from these to emanate,
To you whoe’er you are—a look.
2
A traveler of thoughts and years, of peace and war,
Of youth long sped and middle age declining,
(As the first volume of a tale perused and laid away, and this the second,
Songs, ventures, speculations, presently to close,)
Lingering a moment here and now, to you I opposite turn,
As on the road or at some crevice door by chance, or open’d window,
Pausing, inclining, baring my head, you specially I greet,
To draw and clinch your soul for once inseparably with mine,
Then travel travel on.

Use the VR goggles attached to this kiosk to view these stereographs!

Brooklyn Library.

Brooklyn ferry boat.

Broadway, opposite St. Nicholas hotel, looking north.

Fulton Street, Brooklyn.

Bowling Green, foot of Broadway.

Looking down Broadway, from above Howard Street.

Fulton Ferry House.

Broadway from Fulton Street – St. Paul’s Church on the left.

Looking up Hudson St., from Chambers St.

Fulton Ferry and Brooklyn, N.Y.

Broadway, from Barnum’s Museum, looking north.

Broadway on a rainy day.