Old photos let us stroll through past
A few weeks ago, I sat in a darkened theater watching “Sideways,” a movie steeped in the obsessive personalities of the California wine culture, feeling like a spotlight had been turned on me.
When onophile Maya, played by Virginia Madsen, began to speak softly about why she loved wine, how it brought to life a particular moment, a slice of a time and place – what the weather might have been like the day the grape was picked, or what the person was feeling as they picked it, I squirmed in my seat. I felt exposed.
That’s the same, outwardly silly, kind of thing I say when I talk about old things.
When I stop to pick up an old piece of pottery, or vintage clothing – an ordinary item like a watering can or something that was hand made, like a quilt or a pair of embroidered pillowcases - I can’t help but wonder about the story behind the object.
I imagine where it was made, who owned it and what that person might have been thinking as they used it.
To Maya, the appeal was the reminder that wine is a living thing. To me, it is the idea that an inanimate object was connected, often intimately, to a life lived in the past.
I felt that kind of connection last Sunday morning at the Museum of Arts and Culture in Browne’s Addition. It was the final day of the Picturing the Century: One Hundred Years of Photography from the National Archives exhibit.
I spent a solid hour in a room lined with photographs, most of which were taken of people going about their lives in ordinary ways. I went alone because I wanted to be able to take my time, to be able to melt into the photo.
Is there anything more fascinating, more compelling than an old photograph? Not for me. I love the idea that a moment, the merest fraction of time, was frozen, suspended forever, in the image. I’m particularly drawn to crowd scenes, showing the bustle as people go about their day, unaware that they have been photographed.
Each is different, yet there are commonalities. So often, you see a woman, her hand lifted to smooth her hair or her clothing – little actions we all make unconsciously.
Dogs and children dart in and around the crowd, and men stand in groups or are busy with their work.
In one of the photos at the MAC exhibit, titled “Hester Street, New York City,” taken in 1903 by an unknown photographer, women with their hair pinned up, wearing knitted shawls and long skirts, carrying bags to hold what they buy, walked along a street lined with people and produce.
The sun is slanting across the picture and I could almost feel the warmth on my back. Was it late spring or early fall? So many men are in shirt-sleeves, the long sleeves of their “long johns” peeking out. In fact, one man was rolling up his sleeves the moment the photograph was taken.
It must have been noisy as horse-drawn wagons and carts lurched and rolled down the crowded street, vendors calling out for shoppers to buy their wares. Shoulders would have touched and bumped as people passed one another.
It wasn’t hard to imagine the sweet, ripe, smell of the fruits and vegetables, as well as everyday odors of unwashed bodies and garbage in the gutters.
The companion exhibit, Spokane Memories: Photographs from the permanent collection, which will be up until April 17, shows early photos of the people who lived in Spokane.
I found the woman, she is always there, caught smoothing her hair as she posed for a turn-of-the-last-century photo in the ballroom of the Davenport Hotel.
Another photograph shows a room in Louis Davenport’s home with his young son surrounded by toys on Christmas morning. The room is full of beautiful things, but at the edge of the photo I could see where someone had stashed a stack of papers and a book on the shelf under a side table. Just as, so often, when I look at photographs I’ve taken in my own house I discover some bit of clutter, so familiar it has become invisible, in the background. The stuff of real life.
But it’s this glimpse of a real life that draws me into old photographs. It’s why I say sappy, sentimental, things about bits of paper and pottery, and pieces of fabric. In the end, they are the souvenirs, sometimes all that remains, of people who were here.
People like you and me, who lived and worked and loved, until they were gone.
After reading my column on listening to audio books as I work around the house, Nick Britz wrote to say that he is a fan of old radio programs and buys them on CDs. “There are a few Companies that specialize in Old Time Radio Shows in MP3 Format,” Britz wrote. “In this format, you can get a lot of Programs on one disc and they are very inexpensive.”
Britz has around 700 old radio programs for an investment of less than $20. He adds that it’s important to make sure your CD player will play discs with MP3s.
Thanks for the tip, Nick.
More at the auction
The final auction to sell the remainder of the estate of Helen South Alexander will take place Sunday at Owens & Company Auctions.
Auctioneer Jeff Owens says they discovered another wardrobe box full of furs as well as more sterling silver flatware, and paintings. Hundreds of bolts and rolls of vintage upholstery fabrics will also be sold.
Costume jewelry, more than 8,000 pieces of clothing and designer hats will go on the block. Items can be previewed today from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. and on Sunday from 10 a.m. until the sale begins at 11.
The auction house is located at 14208 E. Sprague. For more information, call 891-9935 or go online to www.owensauction.com
Remember, a buyer’s premium of 5 percent will be added to each purchase.
Jim Alto, the buyer of the exquisite French cabinet that was sold at the first auction, contacted me to say the piece has a place of pride in the foyer of his home. “Someone asked me if I was an antique dealer when I bought the piece,” Alto wrote. “I said I guess I am now.”
A real trash to treasure story
A friend who is renovating an old home on the South Hill was cleaning out a closet last weekend. She found a black plastic garbage bag full of coat hangers and an old leather purse. Inside the leather purse was a smaller evening bag. In that bag was a cache of vintage watches from the 1930s and 40s. Several of the watches were gold-plated and one was set with two small diamonds. She’s planning to sell most of the watches and have one restored to wear.
I guess the lesson here is to take a minute to look before throwing anything away. You never know “watch” you might find.