retouche. These are quite ordinary examples to show how difficult it is to reproduce an object correctly.
But we come now to the worst point, that of color. Photography gives the cold colors—blue, violet, and green—too light, and the warm colors too dark. Take as an instance the photographs on sale of “Sunset on the Ganges,” by Hildebrandt. It represents a red glowing sun, with clouds of chrome-yellow on an ultramarine sky. But what becomes of all this in the photograph? A black round disk between black thunder-clouds. It looks like an eclipse at Aden. The difficulty of representing Nature is still more patent when the photographer attempts to grapple with higher artistic questions. Let us take an example. There exists a pretty genre picture called “A Mother's Love.” A mother sits reading in an arm-chair; her little darling embraces her suddenly from behind, and, delightfully surprised, she drops her hand with the book, turns to look at her little pet, and offers her cheek to the little boy to kiss.
A photographer was inspired with the idea of producing a similar picture with the help of a living model. He found a comely maiden, who agreed to personate the mother, and a good-looking boy was also found. An arm-chair for the mother, a chair, and other suitable furniture, were easily procured. The next point was the grouping. The pseudo-mother was very accommodating to the requirements of the photographer, and even assumed a look which, for want of a better, might pass as the expression of a mother's love. But the boy was not of the same mind. He was by no means attracted by the pseudo-mother—he protested against coming near her, and a good cuff was needed to make him take up the requisite position. Time was thus lost. The mother began to feel uncomfortable in the irksome position, straining her neck. The photograph was taken at last, and turned out sharp and without spot or blemish. The models were dismissed, to their great satisfaction. What was the result? The boy was embracing his mother with a face bearing evidence of the cuff he had received, and with a look as if he would have liked to murder her; and she regards him with an expression that seems to say, “Charles, you are very unmannerly,” and appears greatly annoyed that her pleasant reading has been interrupted. Can it be said that a picture of this kind correctly expresses the intention of the artist? Does the picture thus produced correspond accurately to the legend, “A Mother's Love?” The untruthfulness of such a picture will be evident to every one.
Thousands of pictures of this class are offered for sale. About ten years ago errors of this kind were committed by the thousand in stereoscopic views, and if they meet with approval this must be referred exclusively to the bad taste of the public. But it may be said in this case it is not the photographer who is guilty, but the unwilling models.
