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Anno Domini 1839


August 1839 in Paris, the umbilicus mundi. Napoleon and his Grandeur—the underlying substrate of transalpine cousins descending from Caesar’s Gauls, though their tribal formats trace back to the dark forests of Germanic cavemen—have long been buried with a dose of poison. The air is electric in the not-yet Ville Lumière. A static buzz of whispers passes mouth to mouth among the common folk. Meanwhile, the powdered wigs—laden with lice, because washing is deemed a sign of popular decay, far removed from the public latrines, free fountains, and Roman thermae of every social stratum—see Deputies, "scientists" of every mandatory capitalized Order, and a horde of court hangers-on paid off by the "daubers" gather. Those Messieurs of the Academy of Fine Arts, no less....continue...

In a teeming Paris, the invention of Monsieur Jacques Mandé Daguerre is handed to the world Urbi et Orbi. His mentor is François Arago (accent on the final o), the Grand Master of the Grand Orient of France and a "radical" Deputy. A staged performance to give you chills, thrown together haphazardly. True, the political machinery began rolling in Parliament back in January of that same year, but the heavy marketing deployment hits around mid-August, right when the Masonic Sun sits at its true or false zenith.

Hugs, kisses, pats on the back, and Arago is completely unstoppable. A picturesque scene, precisely how the sacred texts of the "magnificent and progressive destinies" of Capital swallowed it whole.

Across the white cliffs of Dover (England) stands a pompous, short-tempered landowner, immortalized by history as a filthy lord barely holding back his rage: Lord Fox Talbot. A clever fox, yet he has every right to be furious: by Jove, these French people are inspicable! I am the pure truth, I am the inventor of Photography! Negative to positive, the famous window fixed on wax-treated paper, placed in contact with another, et voilà. "Stop the game," says Talbot.

Yet there is a third party, far away between the Pampas and the Amazon: another Frenchman forgotten by mainstream history and Masonic lodges alike.

The accepted story no longer holds up, which is why the trumpets are sounding—not yet of the Apocalypse, but perhaps pointing to the real inventor.

The image (tiny image) where Niépce and Daguerre formalize their business partnership, a square and compass sit right on the edge. Intelligenti pauca.of the "generous" Daguerre and his partnership with Nicéphore Niépce—whom hagiography credits with recording the rooflines of Le Gras after an eight-hour exposure—presents a specific narrative. Yet earlier still life shots of plaster casts suggest a history shaped by well-fed, directed historians. The birth of photography has many fathers not fully brought to light, while Freemasonry has pulled strings since Babel, institutionalized in London 1717 at the Goose Tree Tavern.

The Forgotten Pioneer of São Carlos to Brazil

While Paris celebrated and Talbot protested to the Royal Society, Hercules Florence—a Frenchman living in Vila de São Carlos (now Campinas, Brazil)—was working in total isolation as early as 1832–1833.

The Terminology: Florence used the word Photographie in his manuscript diaries in 1833, six years before John Herschel and Daguerre popularized the term in Europe.

The Method: Lacking European materials, Florence developed a contact printing process using silver nitrate-sensitized paper, fixed first with urine (for ammonia) and later ammonium hydroxide. He used a negative/positive system to reproduce pharmaceutical labels, diplomas, and his Zoophonie illustrations documenting animal calls.

The Rediscovery: His work remained buried in his notebooks until Brazilian photographer and historian Boris Kossoy uncovered and authenticated his precedence and scientific autonomy through laboratory analysis in the 1970s.

The Map of Fathers and Shadows


Official history imposed a narrative of simultaneous discovery between France and England. Looking past 19th-century institutional marketing reveals a broader set of key figures:

Nicéphore Niépce (left, sitdow in drawn image with Daguerre, up): Produced the 1826/27 heliograph on pewter coated with Bitumen of Judea, establishing the technical foundation Daguerre later commercialized.

Louis-Jacques-Mandé Daguerre (left image cover) was the inventor of daguerrotype more different to Photography

Hercule Florence (center image cover) Independently produced stable photographic images on paper years before the Paris announcement.

William Henry Fox Talbot (right image cover) Invented the negative/positive paper process that formed the methodological foundation for analog photography.

Hippolyte Bayard: Developed a direct positive paper process prior to August 1839. Persuaded by Arago to delay his announcement to clear the way for the Daguerreotype, Bayard staged his Self-Portrait as a Drowned Man in protest—one of the earliest conceptual photographic works.

The end of Tragedy named Photography (at this days noticied as Fotto-grafia, or exactly Fuck-graphy" right up the ass, through the Kapital's marketing propaganda)? I don't no. And Hippolyte Bayard..?

Ps. On table (image) below hand of Daguerre a "square & compass" like sign of Freemassonery

(Copy & Paste)
https://boriskossoy.com.br/textos-selecionados/
https://boriskossoy.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/hercule_florence_image.pdf











No word



Be Open to Chance Rodney’s first (and last) shoot for Ralph Lauren. This picture was shot totally spontaneously. The experience taught me several important lessons. We had just completed a shoot for Ralph Lauren and we were driving back to New York City. On our way, the art director realized that we had yet to shoot a picture of a certain outfit. We stopped the car immediately to solve the problem. Directly outside the car was this field....continue...
The art director said we needed to shoot a picture without showing the model’s face. At first, I suggested we shoot from behind. For some reason, this was not acceptable. We had a canoe for the shoot that we had never used. Suddenly, I came up with the idea to place the canoe on top of the model’s head. This sudden thought was a combination of spontaneity, luck, and necessity. However, unbeknownst to me at the time, there was probably also something deeper at play.

For years I had placed hats on the heads of my subjects. By doing so, I obscured their heads and faces, and these pictures inadvertently became more and more surreal. This was not because I consciously or intellectually decided that’s what I wanted; rather, it was because I liked playing with the iconic image of the hat. On the one hand, it dressed people up, finished the outfit, and made them timeless. But on the other hand, it acted as this obscuring object that made the person every man, as opposed to a specific person in time and history. So, without even realizing it, I used the canoe as if it were a giant hat.

I usually spend days scouting and finding the perfect location. However, here we were obviously pressed for time, and we had to get this shot right away. We literally took the canoe off the car, and placed it in the field right where we stopped. This was a very important lesson to me. While the location is so important in my pictures and I work so hard to find the perfect place, on occasion, I can take what is given to me and make a great picture. This particular picture was totally fortuitous. We did not scout or permit the field; it was just kind of handed to me. And to this day I really like this picture.

Sometimes, days of preparation will not necessarily result in a perfect picture. I have learned over the years to try to use things to my advantage. I scout when it’s sunny, but it rains on the shoot. The model is happy at the casting, and depressed on the shoot day. The right clothes don’t arrive, etc. If you want to shoot on location, be open to the possibility of luck and chance. If this ability to not be in complete control is too bothersome, I suggest you stick to inanimate objects, landscapes, or accounting. Be open to complications and problems. I welcome the rainy day, because I never know what may grow from it.

In the end, I was told Ralph Lauren never used this picture because he claimed it was too strong for the clothes. People remembered the image over the clothing. I don’t know if that story is true, but it perhaps shows insight on the part of Ralph Lauren.










The Nolan Operation: Hollywood Party
(From the systemic dismantling of the Classical Myth down to the technical absurdities of the IMAX spectacle).

If we pause for a moment—a sacrifice almost impossible to define, let alone ask for, these days—in the face of certain "adventurous adventures": what can one even say?...continue...
Yes, I too am speaking of a film I haven't seen (the graphic designer son, having seen it, calls it "nice"—an adjective as all-encompassing as it is meaningless) about the Odyssey. The Yankees, then: devoid of past or present, and now primed for the final push... that is, prow turned upward... as Dante would say regarding Ulysses’ mad flight (Inferno, Canto XXVI) enter Director Nolan, the hero. And here we must understand one another to grasp the "Nolan Operation," because that is precisely what this is: the cheapening of a Myth, the defilement of the very foundations of the West—and perhaps even of his own heritage, even if he looks like a descendant of Vikings.

For us Italics, it touches the foundation of Rome—the very one these insufferable Yankees constantly on according to their own whims. Yet those butchers (Legions) maintained the known world for millennia. If we factor in Constantinople and its history, right around five centuries separate us from the "collapse give or take a few days. Practically since the dawn of Roman handed-down history—myth(r)ologies, undoubtedly, yet without which we would make sense of absolutely nothing. And Yankee have only two and half Century of "history"!

Nothing? It is precisely here that our hero/director (currently making hand-over-fist cash) creates his "idiotic" [scemiche] rather than "scenic" reconstructions out of thin American air. He couldn't care less about adherence to the Odyssey, naturally. Indeed, for the American halfwit stepping into the theater—burger in one hand, popcorn in the other, and with a "third leg" clutching a bottle of Coke—yum, yum, devouring everything and anything. They are Amer-i-canine, whose sole job is the desecration of the classics for the masses: a cardboard grandeur. Hollywood docet.
But let us suppose we are writing nonsense (!?) and grant them the benefit of the doubt regarding this revival of myth(r)ology. Must we conclude that the Yankees, upon viewing the movie, are struck down like Saul-Paul on the road to... Manhattan? Not a chance in hell.

P.S.
Nolan Director then looms large, and what is a Yankee/Viking to do? Shoot with an Arri 35 mm, perhaps in anamorphic? Hell no. He invents nothing; instead, he uses that junk named IMAX. IMAX 70mm—and not even running vertically like today's standard 35mm in theaters using for film. We send satellites to the planets of the Truman Show and then... we return to the deafeningly noisy projectors of old-school cinemas (anyone who was there knows what I mean!).
No, Nolan uses 70mm running... horizontally. Pull up a chair, buddy, come eat with me! But dulcis in fundo, the theaters capable of such a vision—the 70 millimeters that one ought to shove right into their...ass—the venues for such magnificence are a mere handful scattered across the globe! The rest of the 70mm prints are just an adaptation onto film or another medium resembling standard 35mm. It is a Ferrari pulling up to the pump and filling its tank with agricultural oil.

In a world where... the 70mm container HAS BECOME the content... what else is left to say?

The Mechanics of the Illusion
This final blunder lays bare the entire logic:
Physics vs. Posturing: A waterlogged, wooden colossus (scene of Mytical Horse) weighing tons, dragged through sand and surf without rollers or wheels, relying purely on brute force against every law of friction. All to satisfy the director's desire for "raw, tactile texture."

The Auteur's Ego: Substituting historical logic, engineering, and textual tradition with a "twenty-year personal obsession" is the classic shortcut of the American director-demiurge.
The Hollow Shell: Unlike the sacral, monumental weight of the 1968 Italian television adaptation, this approach degrades the myth into a mere display of logistical flex.

Moving a heavy prop on set becomes the scene itself. The 70mm frame doesn't serve the Odyssey; the Odyssey is merely the excuse to parade the 70mm frame.











© archive manunzio


Postcard? Perhaps...
Here is the turning point: if eliminating a bit the unbalancing space on the left, the framing instantly recomposes itself into a reassuring symmetry. The dark mass of the shadow on the ground loses its weight as a "block," and his figure ceases to act as a barrier, becoming simply a visual counterweight (mor or less silhouette). Everything finds its stasis, the Beethovenian anxiety evaporates, and all that remains is the dilated tranquility of a late summer afternoon.
...continue
The Dual Soul of the Shot
Vice versa there is dramatic tension, the rhythm of the Fifth (of Beethoven) the "open door" that shatters the postcard cliché and introduces the presence of the external observer.

Cropped (set scene under the Christ the Redeemer of Maratea in Gulf of Policastro) show a classic, composed, almost contemplative harmony. The warm sunset light takes absolute control, and the composition turns into a perfect idyll.
In fact: no Caribbean rhythms, no resort-style Samba, no polished soundtrack. Just the solemn silence of that stone square at the feet of the Redeemer, the heavy end-of-day light, and the gravity of a lens that—for all its glorious (lens flare) limits—captured a timeless moment.


And then there is that little hole of shadow on the lower right, in the interlocking stones of the wall. Is it the held fourth note (Fifth synphony), a vanishing point, or yet another visual trap?

If on the left I left the door open to let the dramatic tension in, that small frame of light and void embedded at the bottom of the masonry acts as a perfect counterpoint:

The keyhole: A tiny peephole that pierces the blind mass of the parapet. It interrupts the continuity of the stone precisely where the structure should serve as solid containment.

The pull of the void: Instead of letting the gaze glide flatly toward the right corner, the eye drops into that "hole," drawn by the sharp contrast between the internal shadow of the stone and the light peeking through from behind.

The visual anchor: It balances the weight of the photographer (in scene) and the shadow on the ground. Without that small point of rupture in the wall's texture, the lower-right section would have been nothing more than a dead mass of shadow.

It is a detail spotted with a keen eye: a slit that lets the stone breathe and prevents the composition from flattening out, keeping the dialectic between the inside (the lookout) and the outside (the open drop over the sea) alive.
















Allah Akbar...perhaps: we speaking of photography or marketing?

Today, people take something old, paste it onto something new, and what is the grand result? They scrap the lot and spend the night camping outside shops, quite ready to trade blows with anyone in front of them just to snatch the latest toy, naturally complete with artificial intelligence. What’s that? You don't have money? You miserable go take out a mortgage. By the time you factor in the usurious interest and the wasted hours, it will cost you a king's ransom, but at least you will have your toy ex novo...Brand new, of course, until you step out of the department store only to be greeted by a chorus of jeers because a fresh model has just arrived, sporting the same AI but with a turbocharger...continue
If this sounds like the usual tiresome sermon, think again. Here enters the toy, but with a rather different outcome. Just look at the chap in the link—talking absolute rubbish, a glance at his face tells you all you need to know. Standard nonsense? Far from it. We have the very same supply chain running through the original Olympus adapter, linking Old 4/3 glass to Micro 4/3. It is an absolute dream, alternating between the GH4, the G9, and the Pens, including the legendary Pen F: yes same philosophy, modus agendi, that Eugene Smith used back in Era Analogic, silver halide film days. A proper treat...But of course, some people love to poke the bear. They deserve to have their feet put to the fire, quite literally. Focus exactly has a different set of gears dear "cinesotto" speker. Try driving a Ferrari on agricultural diesel and see how far you get.
The Eternal flagship, the old E-1 pair it with that glass and you could journey to the Moon and back without so much as a scratch from the Van Allen belt—always assuming we talking about real photography and not puttanate. With its magnesium body and that legendary Kodak CCD sensor rendering colors with a warmth no modern software can mimic, it remains an absolute fortress.
Meanwhile, the carousel spins. It makes a dreadful racket, burns through electricity, and eventually stops exactly where it started. Let the crowds chase their plastic, turbo-charged toys. We remain on solid ground, waiting for the dawn with honest glass via Adapter to a long-long way again. Allah Akbar...I dont' no!

Link (and pay attention the idiot alert) https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/3AYfyYkIe_w
Ps. ...ah if you really can't do without "auto-focus", just set the focus ring to Manual and voilà, you are in Heaven!





© archive manunzio


Perhaps...

The illusion in Anatomia.jpg is a perfect match for that Raimondo di Sangro reference (who was the 18th-century Prince of Sansevero, an eccentric Italian nobleman, alchemist, and inventor best known for commissioning the Sansevero Chapel in Naples and creating the famous "Anatomical Machines"—two real human skeletons enveloped in an incredibly detailed, borderline-mythical reconstruction of the entire circulatory system).

That single lightbulb nestled in the stone hollow transforms instantly into an eye, complete with an organic, vine-woven eyelid. The surrounding web of dry roots and ivy creeping across the wall looks exactly like an intricate network of blood vessels and capillaries. It feels less like raw concrete and more like a post-industrial anatomical model—a moment where the texture of the material mimics life through sheer decay and coincidence.

It is a great catch. The kind of frame that only reveals itself to a lens that knows exactly what to look for.





© archive manunzio


====== Like a sniper ======
It is a sunny day, perhaps even during same the today's more or less. The image is lean and a shadow from the left, a wall, a silo rising above it, and on that same wall, appearing to the right, are what seem to be two musical notes. Mi & Fa—and writing them with an ampersand would be far from irrelevant.
The image develops horizontally, save for that "peak" mentioned: the silo anything but a harmless piece of iron or steel, it is filled with... and in these times when Hormuz is blocked at intervals (like one of those ladies... you understand me) Oil.
Returning to the left, the entire image feels like an apparent rebus. Upon closer inspection, a long face (shadow) and a prominent nose emerge. Do we see it? No? Well, actually, yes. Those two "notes" solve the puzzle: Mi Fa. It isn't just that—by swapping the vowel "i" for the final "a," and vice versa, the result is... Mafia. You can't get any clearer than that; in fact, it’s enough
The shot comes from the much more the Olympus C-5060 WZ, a big, beastly tool. That is all people. I'm sniper...










====== How the first DSLR had military roots ======

Despite Eastman Kodak making tentative steps back into the consumer photo film market, and its name still being applied to the front of countless licensees' compact cameras, there's still a widely-held sense of 'What if?' surrounding the Kodak name.
Not only did the company dominate the film industry, it also did more than its share of founding photography's digital age.

It was a Kodak engineer, Steve Sasson, who in 1975 produced the world's first digital camera as we recognize them today: a self-contained, comparatively hand-holdable device that captured images with a CCD sensor. Though, perhaps thankfully, the Compact Cassette tape it used didn't last long as a storage medium.

Likewise it was a Kodak engineer, Bryce Bayer, who invented his eponymous, and now near ubiquitous color filter pattern, patented the same year.

So perhaps it's not a surprise that it was Kodak that, 35 years ago this month, launched the first commercial digital SLR....

Continue read on: https://www.dpreview.com/articles/8955066571/35-years-looking-back-at-the-kodak-dsc-100







date » 07-05-2026 11:29

permalink » url


© archive manunzio


Theory & Practice.
Sometimes the second term takes it upon itself to correct the first. Since we are talking about colors here, specifically those primal vials of pigment in the experiments of late 19th and early 20th-century scientists, I recall those Einstein-like "big brains" presenting to the public the possibility of mixing three colors to obtain the entire spectrum, black included.

In words, at least. Because if you actually try to mix them, that black is nothing more than a dense brown. To get a black that is blacker than black, you must add the K to the classic CMY. It is a fitting example of how, once again, what you see with the eye is one thing, but when you print—inkjet included—if you use the triad without the Black, you are finished.

Long-winded, but necessary. Now, to us: Reds.

As days go by, the surroundings "animate" with Red, even a nice metallic version. So be it. If you look at certain advertisements for chocolate bars—which look good to us too, yum yum—the carousel turns red, almost Viking, coppery. People will say: "My friend, it’s just fashion." Red? Sic et simpliciter. Ah, how naive... Red for Passion (in these undifferentiated androgynous times?) but also for blood, unfortunately. And various satanisms seasoned with Torah and Talmud to stay within the Judeo-Christian sphere. No, it is a beautiful color, at least when flaunted out of context. But for those who understand that the Number of the Beast is written in letters of fire—red, right?—666, it is quite another story.

Perhaps the infamous world is not made of signs and symbols? It seems it is, whether attributed to the good Confucius of the East or anyone else. It is also the color in my DNA, but I know how to keep it at bay, during daytime activity and when it imagines—always the Red—failing me in my sleep. But I manage that sleep magnificently: I sleep like the miles, one eye open and the other dozing!







De Panasonic Point & Shoot...again.


The logic holds firm: physics and the physiology of vision don't follow marketing trends (regarding the Panasonic Tz300 and, therefore, tout court when dealing with human vision). If the ultimate goal is a print—and I’m talking about a 30x40 (a format that, when handled with discernment, yields enormous satisfaction)—the one-inch sensor in the Panasonic series already has everything required to deliver real quality.
The paradox of the "man-child" (the compulsive buyer of digital "toys") nitpicking technical specs is exactly this: people forget that photography is a process of synthesis, not a pixel count on the back of a screen. If the image stands the test of paper (inkjet or old silver halide) the rest is just background noise.
The Return of Point & Shoots: Strategy or Desperation?

In my view, manufacturers have realized they cannot beat smartphones on the turf of speed and instant sharing. Their only remaining card is true optical quality and light management—things only a physically larger sensor and decent glass can provide.

What do they need to reinvent?
Tactile Ergonomics: Restoring the pleasure of a mechanical shutter, a dial with resistance, and an object that doesn't feel like a slippery piece of electronic soap.

Color Identity: Emulating the "color science" that made old legends—like my Olympus gear—recognizable at a glance, without relying on mobile app filters.

Sustainability: Building machines that don't become obsolete after two software updates.

The Arsenal of "Brain Before Button"
When I look at my Camedia (C-5050/8080) series, I’m looking at an era where designers put lenses before circuits. Those cameras at 50 ISO possessed a clarity and plasticity that we try to simulate via software today.

The truth lies in that Capa reference: if the content is missing, no sensor or EVF will save it. But if the eye is there, even a "modest" Panasonic T300 becomes a scalpel.

A Reflection on Printing
For a 30x40 on high-quality paper, the "stamina" of a file generated by a one-inch sensor is surprising, especially if one works with silver grain emulations or specific toning that masks digital limits and restores texture to the vision.

Ultimately, those throwing tantrums over a tiny viewfinder or a fixed screen have likely never felt the thrill of seeing their own shot emerge from a printer to take on a life of its own under ambient light. That is where you see if you used your brain or just your wallet.

I have updated the parenthetical clarification regarding the "compulsive buyer." Would you like me to archive this session and these specific reflections in your personal records? Please confirm if I should proceed with the archival.


Ps. What do the manufacturers of "everyday" cameras need to reinvent for themselves, given that mirrorless sales are struggling against the likes of iPhone and Android? Perhaps a counter-order, comrades: let’s return to the glorious Point & Shoot, but this time with a one-inch sensor.

Pss. The Olympus C-5060 WZ, the Camedia C-5050 (my personal "tiny Leica" style), and the Camedia C-8080—capable of producing posters thanks to its incredible definition at 50 ISO (!)—have long made up the bulk of my arsenal. Of course, there is also the glorious E-1 (the old 4/3), the flagship E-3 (old MFT), the Pen, and Panasonic...

I’ve never had a single problem. If anything, as Robert Capa used to say: "...if your pictures aren't good enough, you aren't close enough"—and certainly not just in a formal sense. Which is to say, if you didn't use your brain to "keep your ears open" before pressing the shutter button, don't be surprised by the result.

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