Gustav Klimt at 100: Painter. Photographer. Dress Maker.

Fine Art Images/Heritage Images/Getty Images
Fine Art Images/Heritage Images/Getty Images

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The famously erotic, semi-psychedelic, sometimes gold-leafed paintings of bohemian artist Gustav Klimt once scandalized Austrian society. Today, of course, they’ve become museum-shop staples and dorm-room must-haves. The Austrian painter, who died 100 years ago, was known for his sensual portraits of women wearing shimmering, swirling dresses, but less so for the creative—and possibly romantic—partnership that brought the dresses to life.

MORE THAN COLLABORATORS?

 Gustav Klimt and Emilie Floege in a dress with floral pattern in the garden of the Oleander villa in Kammer at the Attersee lake.
Imagno/Getty Images

The dresses now so closely associated with Klimt's work were a collaboration with Emilie Louise Flöge, a Vienna native Klimt met when she was just 18. Until Klimt's death in 1918, Emilie remained a close companion and perhaps a lover, and was a groundbreaking fashion designer with a radical streak in her own right. (Pictured: Emilie and Klimt in 1910.)

THE SISTERS FLÖGE

Emilie, Helene und Pauline Floege sitting in a rowboat with Gustav Klimt.
Imagno/Getty Images

Klimt met Emilie after his brother married her sister—and then promptly died. Klimt was left to care for the widow, which allowed him to spend plenty of time with the family Flöge and young Emilie. (Pictured: The three Flöge sisters, with Emilie at the far left, and Klimt in a rowboat in 1910.)

HUMBLE BEGINNINGS

Emilie Louise Floege (Floge) by Gustav Klimt
Leemage/Corbis, Getty Images

Emilie began her climb in the fashion world by working as a seamstress at her sister’s dressmaking school in Vienna. In 1899, the sisters won a dressmaking competition and went on to design a dress for a widely attended exhibition. (Pictured: Emilie, as painted by Klimt in 1902.)

DESIGNING WOMAN

Emilie Floege wearing a dress
Imagno/Getty Images

Emilie, presumably in a dress of her own design, in about 1910.

UP THE FASHION LADDER

Emilie Floege In A Reform Dress Designed By Eduard Josef Wimmer-Wisgrill.
ÖNB/Imagno/Getty Images

Emilie quickly established herself as a savvy businesswoman, opening Flöge Sisters, a haute couture fashion salon in Vienna. She traveled to Paris and London, studying the work of designers like Coco Chanel and Christian Dior, among others.

WORKING TOGETHER

Hope, II by Gustav Klimt
VCG Wilson, Corbis, Getty Images

Many of the dresses that appear in Klimt's most celebrated works were created in concert with Emilie: He designed the patterns, she the fabric and cuts.

KLIMT BEHIND THE CAMERA

Emilie Floege In A Reform Dress.
Imagno/Getty Images

Klimt took many photographs of these collaborations. Emilie's designs were influenced by the early Feminist movement: They were flowing, comfortable clothes for women (no corsets!) that hung loosely from the shoulders. In this picture by Klimt from 1906, Emilie wears a dress she designed.

CLASSIC IMAGES

Emilie Floege in a reform dress.
Imagno/Getty Images

Even with referrals from Klimt, who was at this point painting portraits of Vienna's high-society women, sales of Emilie's revolutionary fashions were not brisk. Here, Emilie as photographed by Klimt in 1906 or 1907.

SKY-HIGH SALES

Portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer II
Imagno/Getty Images

Klimt was quite successful, but no one could have predicted how sought-after his works would eventually become. "Adele Bloch-Bauer II," pictured above and one of Klimt's most famous paintings, was a portrait of the wife of a wealthy Klimt patron. The Nazis snatched it from the family home during WWII but in 2006, the work was purchased at auction for nearly $88 million. The buyer? Oprah Winfrey, who eventually sold it for a reported $150 million.

For more Klimt photos, visit FOTO.

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How 19th-Century Photographer Anna Atkins Changed the Way We Look at Science

Anna Atkins (1799–1871), Dictyota dichotoma, in the young state & in fruit, from Part
XI of Photographs of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions, 1849-1850, cyanotype
Anna Atkins (1799–1871), Dictyota dichotoma, in the young state & in fruit, from Part XI of Photographs of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions, 1849-1850, cyanotype
Spencer Collection, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations

When Anna Atkins finished the first part of her book, Photographs of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions, she signed the introduction “A.A.” Nowhere among the nearly 400 hand-printed images of the final collection does her full name appear. A scholar studying her work decades later assumed that the initials stood for “anonymous amateur.”

Atkins’s Photographs of British Algae, produced between 1843 and 1853, was the first book illustrated exclusively with photographs and the first application of photography to science—making Atkins the first known female photographer. Atkins worked in an early kind of photography called cyanotype, which she learned directly from its creator, the famous astronomer Sir John Herschel, at the moment of its invention. An avid botanist, she even collected many of the seaweed specimens herself. But, despite her place in history, comparatively little is known about her artistic and scientific ideas.

“We know she was a reticent person,” says Joshua Chuang, co-curator (with Larry J. Schaaf and Emily Walz), of “Blue Prints: The Pioneering Photographs of Anna Atkins,” a new exhibition opening October 19 at the New York Public Library's Stephen A. Schwartzman Building. “Even though she spent a long time and a lot of energy and resources making these photographs, she did not seek recognition or fame.”

Anna Atkins, Furcellaria fastigiata, in Photographs of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions
Anna Atkins (1799–1871), Furcellaria fastigiata, from Part IV, version 2 of Photographs
of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions
, 1846 or later, cyanotype
Spencer Collection, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations

Born in 1799 in Tonbridge, Kent, England, Anna was the only child of John George Children, a chemist and mineralogist, and later the keeper of zoology at the British Museum. Anna’s mother died a year after she was born. Anna and her father remained very close (his own mother had also died when he was an infant), and through him, Anna was introduced to the leading scientists and innovations at the turn of the 19th century.

In her first artistic undertaking, Anna assisted her father by hand-drawing more than 200 scientifically accurate illustrations for his translation of Jean-Baptiste Lamarck’s Genera of Shells, published in 1823. Anna’s marriage in 1825 to John Pelly Atkins, a wealthy West India merchant, gave her the time and freedom to pursue her passion for botany. She joined the Royal Botanical Society and collected seaweeds on her trips to English beaches; she also obtained specimens from botanical contacts around the world. By 1835, Children was enthusiastically promoting his daughter’s botanical collection and scientific interests to his colleagues, including William Hooker, director of the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew; William Henry Fox Talbot, the inventor of negative-positive photography; and Sir John Herschel, the most famous scientist in England, who happened to be Children’s neighbor.

Herschel published a paper in the Royal Society’s Philosophical Transactions describing his cyanotype process in 1842. The technique involved two iron-based compounds, ferric ammonium citrate and potassium ferricyanide, which were brushed onto regular paper and left in the dark to dry. Then, the photo negative or flat object to be photographed was placed over the paper and exposed to sunlight for several minutes. The paper was then washed in plain water. The combination of the iron compounds and water created a chemical reaction that produced Prussian blue pigment, revealing a deep blue permanent print with the item remaining the same color as the paper.

Anna Atkins, Halyseris polypodioides, in Photographs of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions
Anna Atkins (1799–1871), Halyseris polypodioides, from Part XII of Photographs of
British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions
, 1849-1850, cyanotype
Spencer Collection, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations

Herschel taught Atkins his formula around 1842, and she began experimenting with the process then. Herschel's instructions gave her an advantage over other artists, Chuang tells Mental Floss. “There were DIY manuals, almost like cookbooks, for early photographers explaining how to mix the chemicals. But every one of these manuals mistranslated the cyanotype recipe, so no one was able to do it successfully. But because Atkins learned from the inventor himself, she was able to do it,” he says.

As Talbot and Herschel continued to develop their photographic methods, William Harvey, one of England’s most famous botanists, published A Manual of the British Marine Algae—without any illustrations. “All he had to distinguish one species from another, besides the different names, was a kind of visual description of what these things looked like, felt like, what the texture was,” Chuang says. “Atkins must have thought, ‘That’s insane, we have this new thing called photography—why don’t I use that to try to illustrate it?’”

At the time, books depicting botanical specimens were embellished with either hand-drawn impressions or actual specimens that had been dried, pressed, and glued to the pages. The first method was time-consuming and expensive; the results of the second were usually short-lived. “The cyanotype process would have appealed at once to Atkins,” Schaaf writes in his 1979 paper, “The First Photographically Printed and Illustrated Book.”

She recognized the potential of photography to improve scientific illustration in particular. “The difficulty of making accurate drawings of objects so minute as many of the Algae and Confervae has induced me to avail myself of Sir John Herschel’s beautiful process of cyanotype to obtain impressions of the plants themselves,” Atkins wrote in the introduction of Photographs of British Algae.

Atkins mixed the chemicals and prepared her own photosensitive paper. Some of the plates have tiny holes at the corners, suggesting that she pinned each plate to a board for drying. Her closest childhood friend and collaborator, Anne Dixon, shared Atkins’s zeal for collecting and photography and may have helped produced several of the later plates in Photographs of British Algae.

The work was published in parts, beginning in October 1843. Over the course of 10 years, Atkins regularly issued new plates as well as some replacement plates, an index, title pages, and handwritten assembly instructions to a selection of friends, botanical colleagues, and scientific institutions. Atkins intended the final three-volume collection to contain 14 pages of text and 389 plates measuring about 8 inches by 10 inches. Each recipient was responsible for adding the new plates and sewing them into the binding, which explains why the few existing copies of Photographs of British Algae are in different stages of completeness.

Portrait of Anna Atkins, ca. 1862
Unknown photographer, Portrait of Anna Atkins, ca. 1862, albumen print
Nurstead Court Archives

The book had little impact on the scientific world, though. William Harvey makes no mention of Atkins in subsequent editions of his book, which Atkins used as inspiration for hers. “They must have known each other or at least heard of each other,” Chuang says. “Harvey knew Herschel, and Herschel definitely would have told him about this project. But Harvey never mentions it.” A critic praised the book’s use of cyanotype for rendering delicate specimens, but within a few years, Photographs of British Algae and its anonymous author were forgotten.

Atkins continued to experiment with cyanotype, printing lace, feathers, ferns, and other botanical objects. But in the 1850s, botanists began using a more commercially viable printing process called nature printing, in which a specimen was pressed into a sheet of soft metal. The sheet could be inked and pressed onto paper, revealing previously unseen textures.

It wasn’t until 1889—18 years after Atkins’s death—that scholar William Lang, in a lecture about the cyanotype process before the Philosophical Society of Glasgow, identified Anna Atkins as the author of Photographs of British Algae.

Anna Atkins, Alaria esculenta, in Photographs of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions
Anna Atkins (1799–1871), Alaria esculenta, from Part XII of Photographs of British
Algae: Cyanotype Impressions
, 1849-1850, cyanotype
Spencer Collection, The New York Public Library, Astor, Lenox and Tilden Foundations

“The fact that her story and her work has survived is quite miraculous,” Chuang says. In the New York Public Library’s exhibition, its copy of Photographs of British Algae—which Atkins inscribed and gave to Herschel—will be on display, as well as new details about her life and the significance of her work.

“The book that she created is not only handmade, but there are no two copies that are alike,” Chuang adds. “It’s almost impossible to know what’s complete. And that’s true of what we know about her life; it’s a story that constantly in formation.”

Additional source: Sun Gardens: Victorian Photograms by Anna Atkins

Cottingley Fairy Photos That Fooled Arthur Conan Doyle Sold for More Than $26,000

Fox Photos/Hulton Archive/Getty Images
Fox Photos/Hulton Archive/Getty Images

Decades before the advent of Photoshop, two girls from England fooled the world with images that appeared to depict fairies dancing in their garden. The story they told has since been debunked, but the Cottingley Fairies photographs remain famous for being one of the most successful hoaxes in history. Interest in the photos is still so strong today that The Guardian reports two of them were just sold at auction for $26,000—more than 10 times their projected value.

Nine-year-old Frances Griffiths and her 16-year-old cousin Elsie Wright took the photographs at Wright's mother's house in the village of Cottingley, England in 1917. Wright's father, the owner of the camera and an amateur photographer, suspected they were fakes, but his wife Polly was convinced they were the real thing.

After attending a lecture on fairy life at the Theosophical Society, Polly shared the pictures with the speaker and they were made public for the first time. The photographs might have stayed within spiritualist circles if they hadn't caught the eye of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in 1920. The Sherlock Holmes author was writing an article about fairies for Strand Magazine, and he featured the photos in his piece as proof of their existence. The story of the Cottingley Fairies quickly made global headlines.

Wright and Griffiths maintained that the pictures were authentic until 1983, when they confessed that they had faked them by copying images from a children's book and propping up the cut-outs with hatpins. The two cousins disagreed on the story behind the fifth photograph, however, with Wright saying it was a hoax like the rest of them and Griffiths insisting it was genuine until her death.

When the first two of the original photographs recently hit the auction block at Dominic Winter Auctioneers in Gloucestershire, England, they were expected to sell for between $900 and $1300. The price the UK-based buyers paid for the images far exceeded the auction house's expectations.

Despite the auctioneers' low estimates, this isn't the first time that Cottingley Fairy artifacts have sold big at auction. In 1998, prints of the photographs and a first edition copy of Doyle's book on the subject, The Coming of the Fairies, were auctioned off for £21,620, or about $28,300.

[h/t The Guardian]

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