Newhaven Fishwife 1843 - 1847

Curator: Looking at this image, the sepia tones give it such a wonderfully antiquated feel. What are your initial impressions? Editor: A certain wistful quality settles over me. There’s a beautiful serenity in this portrait of a working woman, even with the basket—likely filled to the brim with fish. A gentle story, whispered by the past. Curator: Exactly! It’s a gelatin-silver print from around 1843 to 1847. David Hill and Robert Adamson were pioneering photographers, known together as Hill and Adamson. This piece is called “Newhaven Fishwife," now residing at the Metropolitan Museum. What do you think of its compositional elements? Editor: Well, formally speaking, the lines in the fishwife’s skirt are strikingly modern in their graphic quality. It's like a deliberate flattening of space against the three-dimensionality implied by the woman's form and the curvature of that prominent basket. The contrast, although soft, guides the eye smoothly. The subject, caught mid-thought perhaps. It all evokes this rather deep narrative beyond the simple record of appearance. Curator: And the lighting, so gentle, it models her face and highlights the texture of the woven basket. Editor: Definitely. And there's that delicate balance between the softness of focus—a feature of early photography, of course—and the almost clinical sharpness in her face and hands. What always strikes me is how intimate it feels, despite the obvious distance of time. We glimpse a real human moment, and those are the kinds of stories that connect me to a piece. Curator: Absolutely, even more than the process! The human story resonates profoundly, even across such a chasm of years. This is far beyond just an early experiment. The way she's standing in that beautifully striped skirt adds a touch of…defiance? Editor: Or strength, perhaps. Quiet strength. We could ponder on it forever. The fishwife has captured my heart this morning; I want to learn her stories, sip some strong coffee and sit beside her, contemplating the tides...