A few years ago during a Mother’s Day trip to a hidden
antique shop in the Sunshine Coast hinterland, I came across a wicker basket of
old photographs. Each photo (a little larger than a credit card) was sealed
individually in a plastic sandwich bag and marked at the attractive price of
$5. Along with my raspberry scones and tea I purchased two prints, both of chubby
babies donned in the day’s attire which no doubt reflected the wealth of the
families to which they were born. These little babes in their sandwich bags
have been stowed in my pyjama draw for some time now, with the promise of a
sketch in the future; a promise finally fulfilled this week.
I chose the younger of the two babies as the image was less
tarnished by time and the baby’s subtle smile seemed to offer a slightly
rebellious nod towards the stern poses and expressions more familiar to
portrait photography of that era. I’ve only offered up a modest sketch in
Derwents using a minimal pallet and coarse pastel sketch paper to keep in tune
with the simplicity of the original image. Drawing in such a small scale
presented a challenge as Derwent colours refuse to sharpen to a fine point. I
admit to cheating a little with the eyes by introducing my Progresso Graphite
pencils for extra detail.
Queen Street Brisbane in the late 1800s |
The photograph was taken by prominent Brisbane-based
photographers John and Thomas Matherson who owned Matherson & Co which was
based in now popular Queen Street in central Brisbane between 1870 and 1889.
Although the photo did not come with a date, I estimate it to have been taken
in the early 1880s based on similar photography presentation of the time. This
era saw Brisbane grow as a commercial city with trams and the world’s first
publicly available electric street lighting. As such, our baby likely came from
a family employed in architecture, engineering or commerce. Originally Ipswich was marked out to be
Queensland’s capital which is interesting given Matherson & Co moved their
business there in 1890; narrowly escaping the Queen Street floods in 1893. The
photograph itself is known as a Carte
as it was printed from a glass negative and mounted onto cardboard and then produced
in sets of twelve to make them convenient for swapping or sending overseas.
Possibly there are 11 more of my bonny baby across the world somewhere. This
style of photography was popular with the middle classes and represented one of
the first times babies could be photographed with greater ease and in greater
clarity. New camera technology and a faster shutter speed had finally caught up
with baby’s restless nature. Subjects also started to be photographed with
props that reflected their wealth, hobbies or personality. Our bonny baby is
clearly holding a treasured toy but as it’s obscured by a chubby hand I can’t
determine what it is (though most probably a small boat, animal or doll made of
tin). Something else which leaves me pondering is the baby’s gender. Both boys
and girls were dressed identically during this period – lace, flowers, bows and
all. Unfortunately this would complicate things in the search to uncover the
complete identity of this little one, but I do admire how the attire of the
1880s was more about practicality than signifying a rigid gender division.
That’s where the search ends for now. A small sketching
project has momentarily brought to the fore a little life from long ago which
will only ever be known as the mystery bonny baby from Brisbane. Perhaps
serendipitously in 130 years’ time, my baby portrait from the early 1980s will
be found protected in a sandwich bag in a wicker basket in the nook of an
antique shop for $5, purchased by an inquisitive artistic over raspberry scones
and tea.
A lucky find in the year 2112 |
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