Alfred Seaman and the PCUK

"COSMOS" AT THE CONVENTION. (British Journal of Photography July 24 1896)

Between the hours of one and three o'clock on Sunday afternoon, July 12, Kirkstall Abbey, near Leeds, was almost entirely given over to the occupation of the writer of these lines. Provided with pencil and note-book, I sat where the great high altar once stood, and the only interruption I suffered in my imaginative efforts to people the ruined and restored Cistercian abbey with the monks of the olden time—to call back the glitter, the glory, and the dim religious light that once filled its stately aisles and transepts—came from a colony of quarrelsome birds that had found lodgment in its walls. I shall not soon forget that pleasant and lonely hour, for, during an eventful busy week, it was at once the most peaceful and the only one to which I was able to lay undisputed claim,

You will infer from the foregoing, dear reader, that the members of the Leeds Convention found plenty with which to occupy their time. Speaking for myself, and I believe for others, I can say that last week, for sheer, physical, hard work, would be difficult to beat in the ordinary way -that is in a week devoted to the pursuit of one's usual avocation. As an idea of what we went through, I give the tale of [my own] Friday's proceedings: Called at 6.30; 7.50 train to Ripon. Drove to Fountains Abbey. Five hours photographing and being photographed. Walked and drove back to Ripon. Lunch at 4.30. Train back to Leeds at 6.20. Arrived at 7.45. Meeting 8.30' to 10.30. Smoking concert till midnight. Then a visit to ———— but that, besides being another story, was not on the programme;so we will let it pass.

For all that, the week was enjoyable as well as bustling. They are good men of business at Leeds; and so things went without a hitch. The reception in the beautiful and well-filled picture galleries delighted the ladies, and gave them and the men the opportunity of looking their best. The civic dignitaries were affability itself, and the Deputy-Mayor (Mr. J. Gordon) pleasantly talked photography without boring us, or betraying signs that he had crammed up the article on photography in the Encyclopedia Britannica for his speech. The President's address gave ninety-nine out of a hundred Conventioners the opportunity of disagreeing with him, and so the week commenced in a most promising way.

Of the papers read, that delivered by Mr. Haddon, on The Fixing and Washing of Paper Prints, was the one that met with the greatest amount of attention. It was highly appreciated by all who heard it, as being full of sound, useful information on the subject. It was listened to with marked interest, and evoked a good dis­cussion. One such paper, which appeals to every photographer, is sufficient to redeem a Convention meeting from the charge of doing nothing for photography. We all, or most of us, fix and wash silver prints; few of us do it properly, and Mr. Haddon tells us how it should be done. He hints at pursuing the subject, and I may therefore remind him that the Convention possesses a Research Fund of which he should take advantage.

Some fifteen or sixteen years ago a friend and I were having a humble tintype photograph of ourselves taken by the aid of magnesium, and when the operator had replaced the cap I ventured to suggest to him that the use of gelatine dry plates, which were then making headway, would enable him to shorten his exposures. Regarding me with an expression of savage contempt, he intimated, in emphatic but utterly unprintable language, that in his experience those people who knew something of photography always made the worst sitters, and he expressed bitterly ironical surprise that they condescended to be photographed by anybody but themselves. The moral of this has never been lost to me, and the incident rose in my mind on Wednesday morning of last week, when Mr. Mclver, of Leeds, was taking the Convention group at the rear of the Yorkshire College.

The light was dull, the wind was blowing hard, the focussing cloths swirled and waved, one or two members thought they knew better than the photographer where they should stand, and, when the first, exposure was made, somebody loudly and confidently expressed the opinion that it was underdone. Then one of the cameras appeared to be not quite level and somebody else obligingly informed the photographer of the fact. The reply of Mr. Sellman of Huddersfield, who was assisting Mr. Mclver, was simply, " Would you like to come and look for yourself?" and, not wishing to be out of the group, the interrupter was silent. Other very photographic criticisms were met by the stern request, emanating from some sensible photographer in the crowd, to "give the man a chance!" and at last the chance was given. Notwithstanding all these obstacles, a really admirable group resulted, a fact upon which Mr. Mclver is to be congratulated. The background is not very pictu­resque, but the group contains 136 very good portraits. The 136 members that figure in the group form considerably less than half of the total number that attended the Convention; this fact deserves mention as otherwise an erroneous idea might be formed of the attendance. Hard work, occasionally punctuated by pleasure, was the distinguishing feature of the week. Observation would lead me to think that there was far less than hitherto of that silly snap-shotting of one another in positions which, when the slides are publicly shown, are calculated to raise a laugh or provoke ridicule. Bolton Abbey, the woods, and the river; York with its Minster gates, walls, and other old buildings ; Ripon Cathedral, Studley Royal, with the incomparably beautiful ruins of Fountains Abbey gave opportunities for careful and well-considered work that were taken full advantage of. A crop of good results may assuredly be looked for as the weather on the occasions named left nothing to be desired. Messrs. Watkinson’s portable dark room, which accompanied us on our travels, was largely used, and a word of thanks is distinctly due the firm for its thoughtfulness.

The humours of a Convention meeting would provide matter for an entertaining book. I have only space and time for the narration of one, which gave a deal of innocent pleasure to all who figured in it. On the Thursday afternoon, in St. Mary's Abbbey York, a party of about a dozen, headed by the President, had gathered together. It occurred to somebody to have a group taken which was done by means of a pocket Kodak. Then a member with a quarter-plate was pressed into service, and so we passed to 5x4, 6x4, 7x5, 8x6, and ultimately to 9x6. In all about ten separate photographers were cajoled, forced, bullied, or inveigled into exposing on the Presidential group, under the inducement of obliging Mr. Robinson, helping trade, immortalising them selves, and giving one of the party an opportunity of showing how a group should be taken. The confidence, the nervousness, the astonishment, the self-deprecation, the reluctance of more than one of those who were called upon to photograph groups in which such photographic notabilities as Robinson, Lange, E. K. Ashton, and others figured was most amusing to contemplate. The triumph of the afternoon was reached when two ladies were persuaded to take the group, which they did in a thoroughly cool and workmanlike manner

The music of “broad Yorkshire” the irrepressible animal spirits of the Leeds Camera Clubbers; the tact and distinction of Godfrey Bingley, Herbert Denison, W. J. Warren, and J. H. Walker, kept us company throughout, so that the proceedings never flagged. I have referred to the animal spirits of the Leeds Camera Club. They gave us a smoking concert one night, under the chairmanship of their President, Mr. J. Green Hirst, and the determined manner in which they set about the business of enjoying themselves and ministering to the comfort of their guests not only astonished the languid London contingent, but filled us with envy. Yorkshire folk do not appear to know what rest, repose, or sleep, means. They work hard; they play hard; and they seem to be always doing one or the other.

Some former Conventioners, such as Watmough Webster, Mr. and Mrs. Werner, Thomas Mayne, Hepworth, J. A. C. Ruthven, Child Bayley, and Mrs. Mason, were missed, but some interesting new blood put in an appearance. The late J. Traill Taylor—to whom the Convention, in its early days, owed so much—was not forgotten, as was evidenced by the vote of twenty guineas to the fund now being raised to provide a memorial to him. This was the right and proper thing to do, and the applause with which the sug­gestion was greeted indicated that his name will long find a warm place in the hearts of his former colleagues

To the tale that is told elsewhere I have little more to add, except that Mr. Drage was, as usual, absolutely unselfish and tireless in ministering to the wants and wishes of the Conventioners. He was wholly unsparing of himself, and if ever a man toiled hard for other people, and met with success in his single-minded efforts, that man was Drage. With the assistance that he is entitled to receive, it is to be hoped that he will guide the Convention for many years to come.

To sum up, the Leeds Convention was an all-round success. Everything was of the best; the attendance, the papers, the weather, the places visited, the harmony, and the dinner; while good fellow­ship reigned throughout. At the beginning of the week a little

cloud appeared on the horizon, but the wind changed, the sun burst forth, and the rest of the week was bright and fair. And so good­bye to grimy, smoky, noisy, bustling Leeds, and the enjoyable, earnest, thoroughgoing Convention of 1896.

The last four non-Leeds Conventioners remaining in the town on Saturday afternoon made their way to the 5.30 express for London, pleased and tired with their week's experiences. When the train started, one of them softly removed his Convention badge from the lapel of his coat. "'Is the Convention ended?" asked a second, in a tone of voice expressive of surprise at the rapidity with which the week had gone. The others nodded, silently and somewhat sadly, and then the mighty express sped on its way south.

cosmos.