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Friday, December 15, 2017

The Great Nadar

The Great Nadar: The Man Behind the CameraThe Great Nadar: The Man Behind the Camera by Adam Begley
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The Great Nadar--The Man Behind the Camera



That is the subtitle of the Great Nadar--The man behind the camera--but Gaspard-Felix Tournachon, born in Paris in 1820 to a book publisher from Lyon and his young mistress, became so much more. While it is true that photography may have been the profession in which he made his mark, Nadar, as he was known then, came to his renown through many paths. But I get ahead of myself in this review, since the book really begins with its interesting cover--a checkerboard of pictures of Nadar taken from many angles. He is a Frenchman but he does not look like a stereotypical Frenchman--he is not the dark, sensuous Louis Jordan nor is he the suave bon vivant, Maurice Chevalier. His hair appears much lighter than either of them, it is bobbed and curls under. He sports a bald spot not unlike a monk's tonsure and his has a Santa Clause moustache that curls just perfectly around a mouth, that even in repose seems to smile--as it does quite impishly in one of the shots. He appears to have a couple of hairy moles or growths on the side of his face near his jawline. All in all, a pleasant, inviting face that seems to gaze back at the camera with interest, as though studying the studier. Once into the book, we learn that Nadar did not become Nadar immediately--he actually was known as Felix within his family and in his early adulthood, when he decided to study medicine to support his widowed mother and younger brother, It was not until he left his medical studies, finding them much too constraining and structured, to pursue journalism that he entered the world of the Bohemians and became a starving artist that he was anointed with the nickname by some of his fellows. Initially, he found himself a caricaturist but in a short time found an interest in the more realistic portrayal of people by use of a camera. Throughout his life he rubbed elbows with the famous of Paris--artists, poets ,actors, politicians, novelists--with some he made friends early in life-some of them fellow bohemians--but others he encountered once he'd established himself as the foremost photographer of Paris. The book takes us through the early years and through the heyday on into his retirement. Along the way he supported, competed with, sued, reconciled and fought again with his younger brother, Adrien. He married a woman considerably younger than himself, Ernestine, whom he called, and others called, Madame Bonne. And she was--good to put up with his many impulsive interests that became obsessions and good for him, a settling influence on his mad pursuit of some of these interests. One of his most consuming pursuits was the development of a huge air balloon called Le Geant among other smaller versions. The descriptions of his flights in these balloons is as hair raising as the actual event must have been. He was a great proponent of air flight though he did not anticipate nor propose the concept of an airplane--he thought the lighter than air approach was the key to flight. He was a self-promoter with an ability to make lifelong friends, he was a defender of his name and brand against all comers, including his brother and, later in life, his son. He was grandiose and proposed a publication of a Livre d'or which would contain pictures and biographies of all the famous of France--he started the project but lacked the financial backing to complete it. Perhaps the most interesting part of the book is the final section which is a series of autographs in a studio livre d'or-- a guest book which Nadar asked various people whom he photographed to sign. The entries range from poetry to simple signatures, musical notation to pen and ink sketches. It is fascinating in both the type of entry and the authors who made them. A birds-eye view of Nadar's comtemporaries and friends. This tall, lanky, ever curious red head died fourteen months after his beloved Ernestine a few weeks before turning 90 in 1910. I received a copy of this book to review from Blogging for Books

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