The Photographed Life

Photography evolved from professional service to democratic tool. The Kodak Brownie camera, introduced in 1900, cost one dollar and made everyone a photographer. "You press the button, we do the rest," promised advertisements. Suddenly, ordinary people could document their lives, creating visual histories previously reserved for the wealthy.

The snapshot aesthetic differed radically from formal portraiture. Blurred figures, cropped compositions, casual poses—technical "failures" that captured life's spontaneity. Family albums filled with beach vacations, Sunday picnics, children's birthdays. The visual democracy had implications: servants photographed employers unaware, citizens documented police brutality, affairs left photographic evidence.

Professional photography also transformed. Eugène Atget systematically documented disappearing Paris—old streets before demolition, traditional trades before mechanization. His pictures, sold to artists as reference materials, unknowingly created the documentary tradition. "I photograph only what is about to vanish," he explained. In the Belle Époque's rush toward tomorrow, he preserved yesterday.

The illustrated press exploded. Photographic reproduction in newspapers and magazines made everyone famous for fifteen minutes. Society matrons competed to appear in fashion spreads. Politicians learned to manage their images. Criminals became celebrities through mugshots. The private sphere shrank as cameras invaded everywhere.

X-ray photography, discovered by Röntgen in 1895, fascinated the public. Department stores installed fluoroscopes for fitting shoes. Society women had their hands X-rayed wearing jewels, creating ghostly portraits of wealth. The ability to see through flesh to bone suggested science's power to penetrate all mysteries. That X-rays could damage tissue remained unknown; progress's dangers often appeared later.