How to Make Good Pictures: A Book for the Every-Day Photographer

I often can’t resist delving into the history of photography. There are few ways to do that better than getting one’s hands on a good book that was published in the era of interest.

In this case, a photographer friend of mine lent me his copy of Eastman Kodak’s How to Make Good Pictures: A Book for the Every-Day Photographer. Presenting itself in all of its Art Deco design panache, it’s a fascinating look into the state of photography in the late 1930s or early 1940s.

The exact date of publication is a little ambiguous since no year is indicated in it. The particular copy I had in hand is the 25th edition. The 28th edition, which is available on archive.org, appeared in 1943, so this edition was clearly published before then.

The book gives the modern reader other clues about its vintage. It describes various Kodak camera models including the Duo Six-20 (1933), Kodak Retina I (1934), and Kodak Retina II (1936), among several others. It also lists various Kodak film stocks: “Kodak Film (Regular),” which I presume was Kodak’s plain consumer-grade offering of the day, Verichome (1931), Panatomic-X (1933), Plus-X Pan (1938), and Super-XX Pan (1940).

Paging through this book, I got confirmation of what I suppose is the rather obvious assertion that amateur photography during this era was, at least technically speaking, rather unlike what it would become after World War II. Although the Leica and Contax “miniature” rangefinder cameras raised its prominence in the 1920s and 30s, the 35mm film format was not quite as ubiquitous as it would become during the following decades. Since viewfinder cameras lacked focusing aids, one had to obtain an accessory rangefinder or become good at judging distances by eye and using the distance markings on the lens to focus. And accurate light meters were still far off in the distant future.

But value still exists in some of the older techniques of the craft. One page in this book (54) stood out in particular:

Here was an expression of the Sunny 16 rule during an era when one had to shoot by eye as a matter of necessity. But for someone like me who is developing his shooting skills without the aid of a light meter, it was neat to see this chart.

I imagine this book was often sold as part of a new camera purchase by someone with no experience with photography whatsoever. Even if you were a complete imbecile, Kodak wanted your money. To establish and maintain a regular flow of cash from folks across the spectrum of skill levels, the company used this book to offer helpful tips (pp. 34-35) such as:

• Avoid tipping the camera sideways.
• For clear and sharp pictures, keep the lens reasonably clean.
• Don’t put your finger in front of the lens when making an exposure.

Eastman Kodak clearly assumed nothing about the reader’s photographic skill or general wherewithal.

Beyond the basics, though, I smiled when I saw a brief chapter entitled “Street Photography and Architectural Studies” (pp. 72-74).

I understand that street photography became a distinct genre only recently. What we today would use the term to describe was, in decades past, more frequently called reportage photography, among other things.

But here was a piece of writing from the late 1930s or early 1940s advising the photographer who was interested to take pictures on the street that “he will have to work quickly and quietly, attracting as little attention as possible where people are to be included, and he must be able to take in an interesting situation at a glance.” That advice applies just as much to street photography in today’s digital age as it did to its practice generations ago.

I enjoy the challenge of using my 1960s-era Nikon F to do street photography. I can only imagine what the experience must have been like with, say, a Kodak Brownie.

All in all, How to Make Good Pictures: A Book for the Every-Day Photographer is a fun look back into the way photography was practiced around the midpoint of the 20th century.