The idea of finding out about a previously-unknown-to-me industrial site in a city in Ithaca, where I spent four happy years, and knew like the back of my hand, was exciting to me. And what a cool stereoview I got! Unfortunately, that's about all I got...
In which Wilfred Owen's poem is paired with and analyzed beside one of the images from the A. O. Fasser Collection.
The Tranchée des Baïonnettes - where 21 men of the 137th Infantry's 3 Company were supposedly buried alive, with only their bayonets poking out above the earth - was photographed after it was excavated during the planning phases of the 1920 monument built on the site.
Three random glass stereoviews that came with (yet another) stereoscope - an artist's studio, the artist himself, and the artist "painting" a nude art model.
An examination of how one can take a century-old Great War negative in rough shape and recover as much detail as possible to provide a salvageable archival digital positive.
An American surgeon left for France in October 1915, returning six months later with stories, knowledge, a sense of horror - and about 500 Great War stereoviews, taken by him with a camera he bought while there and quickly learned to use quite well.
A digital reproduction of a stereoview of a filmmaker filming the possible corpse of a soldier, probably at the Somme.
One hundred years ago today, Wilfred Owen, a Lieutenant in the 2nd Manchesters - and an as-yet unknown poet - fell to German guns in the crossing of the Sambre-Oise Canal in the Second Battle of the Sambre. Here's a brief account of the final three years of his life, with 3D photographs that show the gritty reality of the Great War.
I recently acquired 9 new Great War glass stereoviews from a very generous eBay seller - and present them with captions here.
In a stack of random amateur stereoviews that accompanied a recent Great War purchase on eBay, I was delighted to find this photo that reminded me of some of Diane Arbus's early portraits.