We already have a thread for quick links and discussions, but I might as well pop it in here.
The Strange Emptiness of Egypt in 19th-Century European Photographs
I'm not particularly sure why articles like this are published - they often seek to answer a question too obscure to make me wonder someone feels the need to answer it in the first place. In this case: why are all the old pics of Egyptian sites so empty?
I always wonder why it is that everyone waited for the Europeans to show up to excavate ancient sites. Did the Egyptians not really concern themselves with the giant megaliths they could see poking out of the rubble?
And yet looking through the collection I can access on the internet, it is pretty sparse of detail.
But with some background out of the way, this is the part I find most interesting.
Now we begin with the 21st century mind virus woke historical revision. That eerie sense that these photos were taken in a place long abandoned, in complete ruins as if destroyed and completely forgotten by time, and more importantly by its own citizens? Forget that, all you are seeing is a bunch of racist Europeans trying to get the brown people out of their photos. Never mind that there are clear photos he took with locals excavating a site (which is even featured in this article).
I'm not really sure that I'm understanding how a megalithic site so vast in scale is seen as an "empty space ripe to give meaning to". This place is anything but empty. That said, I don't necessarily disagree with the sentiment that it was ripe to give a narrative to. It makes me wonder if the very concept of Colonialism is a way to "bury" the reset narrative behind European White Male Racism. At the very least, it seems to give these "archeologists" and "professors" a way of coping with the strange look of Egypt in the 19th century.
How do they know this? The only way to know for sure is that there were two sets of pictures taken - one before and after "setting the scene". Yet as far as I can find, these things don't exist.
The caption of this photo reads:
It is difficult to track the exact population of Cairo in the 1850s, at least through english sources. 20th century Britannicas say the population was somewhere around 200k in 1800, as to how to extrapolate another 50 years of growth I'm not sure. My only experience with Cairo was in the early 2000s, and it was overwhelmingly populated.
There is an archived post that lists a large scale earthquake in Cairo in 1754, where 40k died.
https://stolenhistory.net/threads/khedive-period-architecture-in-cairo-egypt.5193/post-72594
And finally, a few more little nuggets.
It should be obvious to anyone who has been doing research on these topics that these figures who are so "important" to history are more obscure than the history itself.
Why were these photos "dusted off" in the 70s and 80s? Does this line up with the rise in popularity of historical criticism in the vein of Fomenko and historical timeline revision?
The Strange Emptiness of Egypt in 19th-Century European Photographs
I'm not particularly sure why articles like this are published - they often seek to answer a question too obscure to make me wonder someone feels the need to answer it in the first place. In this case: why are all the old pics of Egyptian sites so empty?
In the 1850s, when he was in his early 20s, John Beasley Greene packed up his equipment and headed to Egypt. From Alexandria, the young photographer lugged his supplies onto a ship bound for Cairo, and then transferred to a smaller, private vessel that could navigate the Nile’s cataracts. Greene, born in France to wealthy American parents, would go on to visit Egypt twice in total—each time, training his lens on monumental structures, sweeping swaths of desert, and the go-on-forever sky.
Greene was “probably the first photographer we know of who was trained archaeologically,” says Frederick Bohrer, an art historian at Hood College in Maryland, and the author of Photography and Archaeology.
In the 19th century, the two disciplines lurched toward a kind of maturity together. Earlier excavations had begun to investigate Stonehenge and other English megaliths, as well as the ash-covered ruins of Pompeii. But for the most part, like the medium of photography, archaeology—at least as it was practiced in Egypt, by Europeans—was an invention of the 1800s. Before that, enthusiasts of history were known as antiquarians, and many were just as invested in sifting through libraries as through dirt.
I always wonder why it is that everyone waited for the Europeans to show up to excavate ancient sites. Did the Egyptians not really concern themselves with the giant megaliths they could see poking out of the rubble?
The switch to the shovels-in-the-ground approach of archaeology happened just before the middle of the 19th century, and by the time Greene first went to Egypt, scientific societies had begun to see photography as a useful research tool for the new field. Drawing, painting, and engraving had worked well enough for the many hundreds of plates and maps in the Description de l’Égypte, the sprawling tome compiled by Napoleon’s brigade of scientists at the end of the 18th century, but the techniques were hugely labor-intensive.
“To copy the millions of hieroglyphics which cover even the exterior of the great monuments of Thebes, Memphis, Karnak, and others would require decades of time and legions of draftsmen,” grumbled mathematician and physicist François Arago, who tried to persuade his peers at the Académie des Sciences that photography was the cataloguing tool of the future. The Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres agreed, Keller writes, and dispatched Du Camp to Egypt, with instructions to “take advantage of every favorable moment” and “to always apply himself, as much as location and time permits, to complete the general views and the details of a monument, whether an entire legend of a complete hieroglyphic tablet.” The idea was to capture everything he could.
And yet looking through the collection I can access on the internet, it is pretty sparse of detail.
But with some background out of the way, this is the part I find most interesting.
It’s not that it was impossible to include people in images. Exposure times could be less than a minute (but were often much longer), meaning that while movement was impossible to capture as anything other than a blurry, ghostly streak, subjects could sit, stand, or sprawl long enough to show up clearly. But even when figures are present in the images, Press points out, Greene’s captions ignore them. An 1854 image featuring a clearly defined, contemporary structure and blurry figure is titled “Etudes de dattiers” (or “Studies of Date Palms”), Press notes, “as if the person and their domicile were invisible or incidental.”
Some contemporary scholars suspect that Greene’s compositions were informed by artistic choice, and the European perspective that sidelined or erased indigenous residents of other countries. His sweeping landscapes borrowed from the atmospheric style of his teacher Gustave Le Gray, who pioneered a technique of waxed paper negatives and salted paper prints, Press writes. But portraying these landscapes as vast and empty also affirmed a colonial agenda, suggesting that that these were places just waiting for Europeans to stroll in and make their mark.
Now we begin with the 21st century mind virus woke historical revision. That eerie sense that these photos were taken in a place long abandoned, in complete ruins as if destroyed and completely forgotten by time, and more importantly by its own citizens? Forget that, all you are seeing is a bunch of racist Europeans trying to get the brown people out of their photos. Never mind that there are clear photos he took with locals excavating a site (which is even featured in this article).
“Photographs like these are engaging with conventions of artistic representation in many areas of the world, and the Middle East in particular, that were being seen as empty spaces ripe for Europeans to go in and give meaning to,” says Christina Riggs, a historian of archaeology, photography, and ancient Egyptian art at Durham University and a fellow at Oxford’s All Souls College. “Colonialism is a crucial factor in considering the circumstances in which such photographs were being made in the first place.” Later photos taken by the English photographer Francis Frith featured many more people, but they were there for scale, as proxies for traveling Europeans or armchair adventurers, or as local representations of the titillating and ‘exotic,’ Keller writes.
I'm not really sure that I'm understanding how a megalithic site so vast in scale is seen as an "empty space ripe to give meaning to". This place is anything but empty. That said, I don't necessarily disagree with the sentiment that it was ripe to give a narrative to. It makes me wonder if the very concept of Colonialism is a way to "bury" the reset narrative behind European White Male Racism. At the very least, it seems to give these "archeologists" and "professors" a way of coping with the strange look of Egypt in the 19th century.
As archaeology and photography continued to develop in tandem, Bohrer explains, crews would sometimes literally sweep aside the people who lived in a place before they photographed it. At the Acropolis in Athens, he says, archaeologists removed homes, military barracks, and a mosque before snapping photographs. A site “never looks the way it did when these photographs were taken,” he says.
How do they know this? The only way to know for sure is that there were two sets of pictures taken - one before and after "setting the scene". Yet as far as I can find, these things don't exist.
The caption of this photo reads:
Greene’s photographs of homes in Cairo don’t include many traces of the people who lived there.
It is difficult to track the exact population of Cairo in the 1850s, at least through english sources. 20th century Britannicas say the population was somewhere around 200k in 1800, as to how to extrapolate another 50 years of growth I'm not sure. My only experience with Cairo was in the early 2000s, and it was overwhelmingly populated.
There is an archived post that lists a large scale earthquake in Cairo in 1754, where 40k died.
https://stolenhistory.net/threads/khedive-period-architecture-in-cairo-egypt.5193/post-72594
And finally, a few more little nuggets.
Greene’s life was short, and details about him are hard to come by. Many of his photographs were exhibited before he died of an illness in Cairo in 1856, at the age of 24, but then his work “languished in almost total obscurity for a hundred years,” Keller writes. It was dusted off in the 1970s and 1980s “as part of a resurgent interest in the medium’s early history.”
It should be obvious to anyone who has been doing research on these topics that these figures who are so "important" to history are more obscure than the history itself.
Why were these photos "dusted off" in the 70s and 80s? Does this line up with the rise in popularity of historical criticism in the vein of Fomenko and historical timeline revision?