A few boxes of memories
Back in the mid 1980’s when my photographic passion was really taking off, my Gran gave me an old biscuit tin and two small boxes when she came to stay, as she often did back then. She knew I was interested in photography and wanted me to be the custodian of her late husband’s photographic legacy. Yep, this legacy was a biscuit tin and 2 small boxes, but inside each was a glimpse to what had gone before and a little bit of magic.
What I had inherited was all Arthur Phillip Jacobs, ‘Phils’ negatives from the 1930’s to 1960’s, a box of lantern slides that he had made from these, a couple of sun printing frames from his childhood, a book on photography (with the cover stained from photographic chemicals) and his notebook that catalogued the images he had made. The cameras he had owned had long gone, but this box of memories was far more important than any of that.
What I quickly learnt, was that Grandad was incredibly methodical. The negatives had all been cut into single images and carefully saved in little bank envelopes with locations and dates recorded, alongside his photographic notebook that listed everything from locations to printing details. In terms of a photographic legacy, compared to what we have now it is relatively small at just over 800 images in total. But each of those images has been taken with care and love and it was easy to see that he wanted them to outlive him.
These special boxes remained largely untouched until around 10 years ago, when I commenced the job of scanning each negative. This was quite an undertaking, but it taught me more about everything he loved and how he didn’t let the restrictions of his equipment limit his photographic abilities. Looking at his notes, most of the pictures from the 1930’s were taken with a 127 film ‘Vollenda’ camera (which would have either been made by Nagel or Kodak). During the war circumstances were such that he had to sell this and replace it shortly after with a 120 film ‘Zeiss Box Tengor’ (taking images 6cm by 4.5cm). I think of all the images, the ones taken using this camera in the 1940’s are perhaps the most special – especially the portraits he took of my Gran. I have picked up an identical camera in recent years and whilst it has been a lot of fun to experiment with, I have yet to come close to the quality and creativity of the images he produced from that period.
I learnt from my Gran that money had always been very tight for them as a family unit. One of his close friends in the 1930’s had a Leica and evidently, he always wanted one too, but unfortunately for him it was never to be. However, he never allowed a lack of money to limit his own creative abilities. For example, he wanted to be able to print his pictures and make his own enlargements. He was never able to afford an enlarger, so he ended up building his own, which I would have loved to have seen! I am lucky enough though to be the custodian of his home-made microscope, the main section of which was constructed from one of my Grans knitting needle tubes!
As you can see from the small selection of images included here, a lot are of family which makes perfect sense for the time. What stands out most to me though is the care and love that has been taken to create these images – especially some of the portraits of my Gran. I am also particularly fond of the images he took of the Thames the month before World War two commenced.
One of the biggest lessons I have learnt from my Grandad in photography is around the cataloguing of work. When it comes to cataloguing work, you could say I am extreme. This isn’t something new, I think I’ve always been this way. It’s the one thing I’ve stuck with since my very earliest days of taking pictures. The cameras, lens and equipment have been on a constant cycle but the cataloguing system has remained consistent.
My Grandads level of detail and ordered approach was impressive to say the least. Before seeing his work, I had just kept photos and negatives in the packets from the lab, which were all casually tossed into the midst of a standard teenager’s chaotic life. To put it simply, I had no system to keep track of any of work, and this was going to be a big problem If I wanted to take this hobby seriously. I needed a system and I needed it to be future proof for all the years ahead and all those images I was going to be taking.
So shortly after inheriting my Grandads legacy, I paid a visit to a large Jessops store and picked up some A4 negative sleeves and a ring folder and set to work. Films were recorded with numbers, dates, locations and equipment using these sleeves and I wrote a list of films with content which I kept at the front of the folder. My work began to make some kind of sense and with all these notes my photography slowly began to improve. When I started to do my own printing, I could find the negatives I needed easily and the system worked.
Fast forward to the age of digital age and how does this look now? Well, I’ve kept shooting film, so this continues to be a series of folders with catalogued sheets for all my negatives. Over a period of years though all the negatives were scanned, and the handwritten sheets became spreadsheets. The system still works well for me, and I can still find everything I need. I’ve even added folders by month for any digital images.
When I break it all down, I think the one person I can thanks for this is my Grandad. Despite never meeting him, his work, passions and processes have remained a huge influence on me since the very beginning.
