Over the years that I've been
writing these articles, the constant refrain when submitting them to our local paper has been
"Do you have any pictures to go with this?", to which the usual
answer is either "No", or "Yes, but they're not up to much". The reason for this being that taking a
photograph in the 1950s and 1960s was a difficult and expensive task, not to be
entered into lightly. It seems hard to
believe, when we now live in a time in which virtually everything you buy
contains a camera of some sort.
Delving back into the snaps that
have survived over the years, it is apparent that the few pictures taken in the
post-war period are the result of the ubiquitous Box Brownie. I remember this camera, which still lurked in
a wardrobe 'just in case' for years. it
was a black cube, about six inches or so square. I seem to recall that the thing you looked
through (note my command of the technical jargon) to see your intended subject,
showed the image upside down. The only
other apparatus was a silver slider which, when depressed, exposed the film and
took the picture. The whole thing was
encased in a tight fitting tan-brown canvas case. As a child, I couldn't make head nor tail of
it, and probably couldn't now, but it had clearly done sterling service in its
day.
Our next technological leap
forward came in the late 1950s when I won a fancy dress competition in All
Saints Church Hall as Wee Willie Winkie.
I'm delighted to say that I have absolutely no recollection of this
event. I was probably too traumatised to
remember. My Auntie Vera was responsible
for the costume, a white smock and an old fashioned nightcap with tassel,
complete with a candle holder and candle.
You may recall that "Wee Willie Winkie ran through the town,
upstairs and downstairs in his nightgown", with the express purpose of
checking whether "all the children were in their beds as it was past
eight-o-clock". Nowadays he would
probably be employed by Social Services, or facing criminal charges for indecent
exposure. Anyway, the costume won a
prize (I doubt that it was down to my dramatic skills) and the prize was a
Kodak camera.
This was another all black
affair, but much smaller. You could put
this camera in your pocket without looking as if you had some hideous
disfigurement. It took rolls of film,
and I was always terrified of inadvertently exposing the film by opening the
back up. You framed your subject in a
little metal rectangle that folded up from the camera casing and pressed a
silver shutter slider to take the picture.
Of course, in the absence of any flash apparatus or exposure settings,
the only pictures you could take had to be in relatively bright conditions, out
of doors. Nevertheless, this camera
served as the photographic recorder of all Whiteland family events for many
years.
The limitations of the camera
(and its operator) can probably be best illustrated via the picture above. I had taken
the camera with me on the first camping trip that our Anglesey class went on,
to the Manifold Valley. One of our
expeditions took us up to Thor's Cave. I
had arrived at the cave entrance, exhausted and mildly terrified (I hate
heights) but determined to have some photographic record of this event. As we all settled in the cave for a talk on
its history and formation, I edged my way to the mouth of the cave to try to
get a picture that would capture the enormity of the height and the sweeping
vistas. It was an image that you would really have needed a 3D, High Definition
video camera to do it justice, but nevertheless I waited eagerly for the result
to come back from the chemist when we returned home. This was the outcome. I remember my Mum laughing out loud when she
saw it. I guess I had probably raised
her expectations a little too much.
Clearly Patrick Lichfield and Lord Snowdon had nothing to fear from me.
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