Volume contains "6 plates: 1 Woodburytype of the moon, 2 Lichtpaus specimens on 1 plate, 1 Scamoni Relief Heliogravure, 1 Scamoni Intaglio Heliogravure, 2 Glazed Obernetter Collotypes on 1 plate, [and] 1 Photolithograph of a map by S.H. Parkins. The plates are printed by the Woodburytype Permanent Photographic Printing Co., London; Obernetter, Munich; Scamoni, St. Petersburg."--Hanson Collection catalog, p. 54.

This popular, well-illustrated publication of 1883 explains the history and science of photography in a comprehensive but accessible way.

Carried in wallets and displayed in homes, photographs are a common, but often an overlooked feature of modern life. And, with the advent of digital technology many believe that the so called 'wet chemistry' behind old fashioned photography is a thing of the past - but is it? The Chemistry of Photography endeavours to unravel the mysteries of picture taking and reflects on the diversity and complexity of the science. It gives readers an insight into the chemistry needed to generate pictures, spanning all mediums including still and motion picture as well as digital imaging. Beginning with the components of conventional photography such as films and papers, the book also looks at light capture and amplification, negative films, processing solutions, colour transparencies, the chemistry of colour and motion picture films. The book concludes with a discussion of digital technology and new innovations in photography. This fascinating book will appeal to scientists and those with a general interest in both the new and the old science behind photography.

How would you go about rebuilding a technological society from scratch? If our technological society collapsed tomorrow what would be the one book you would want to press into the hands of the postapocalyptic survivors? What crucial knowledge would they need to survive in the immediate aftermath and to rebuild civilization as quickly as possible? Human knowledge is collective, distributed across the population. It has built on itself for centuries, becoming vast and increasingly specialized. Most of us are ignorant about the fundamental principles of the civilization that supports us, happily utilizing the latest—or even the most basic—technology without having the slightest idea of why it works or how it came to be. If you had to go back to absolute basics, like some sort of postcataclysmic Robinson Crusoe, would you know how to re-create an internal combustion engine, put together a microscope, get metals out of rock, or even how to produce food for yourself? Lewis Dartnell proposes that the key to preserving civilization in an apocalyptic scenario is to provide a quickstart guide, adapted to cataclysmic circumstances. The Knowledge describes many of the modern technologies we employ, but first it explains the fundamentals upon which they are built. Every piece of technology rests on an enormous support network of other technologies, all interlinked and mutually dependent. You can’t hope to build a radio, for example, without understanding how to acquire the raw materials it requires, as well as generate the electricity needed to run it. But Dartnell doesn’t just provide specific information for starting over; he also reveals the greatest invention of them all—the phenomenal knowledge-generating machine that is the scientific method itself. The Knowledge is a brilliantly original guide to the fundamentals of science and how it built our modern world.

Photography emerged in 1839 in two forms simultaneously. In France, Louis Daguerre produced photographs on silvered sheets of copper, while in Great Britain, William Henry Fox Talbot put forward a method of capturing an image on ordinary writing paper treated with chemicals. Talbot’s invention, a paper negative from which any number of positive prints could be made, became the progenitor of virtually all photography carried out before the digital age. Talbot named his perfected invention "calotype," a term based on the Greek word for beauty. Calotypes were characterized by a capacity for subtle tonal distinctions, massing of light and shadow, and softness of detail. In the 1840s, amateur photographers in Britain responded with enthusiasm to the challenges posed by the new medium. Their subjects were wide-ranging, including landscapes and nature studies, architecture, and portraits. Glass-negative photography, which appeared in 1851, was based on the same principles as the paper negative but yielded a sharper picture, and quickly gained popularity. Despite the rise of glass negatives in commercial photography, many gentlemen of leisure and learning continued to use paper negatives into the 1850s and 1860s. These amateurs did not seek the widespread distribution and international reputation pursued by their commercial counterparts, nearly all of whom favored glass negatives. As a result, many of these calotype works were produced in a small number of prints for friends and fellow photographers or for a family album. This richly illustrated, landmark publication tells the first full history of the calotype, embedding it in the context of Britain’s changing fortunes, intricate class structure, ever-growing industrialization, and the new spirit under Queen Victoria. Of the 118 early photographs presented here in meticulously printed plates, many have never before been published or exhibited.