When This You See, Remember Me

Verso of a William F. Sawtell photograph. Author's collection.

Verso of a William F. Sawtell photograph. Author’s collection.

One of my earliest posts was a small grouping of images taken by local photographer William F. Sawtell. I have continued to collect samples of his work while writing this blog, and I thought it would be enjoyable to feature a few more portraits in this entry.

Undated photograph by William F. Sawtell. Author's collection.

Undated photograph by William F. Sawtell. Author’s collection.

This little beauty has an unknown substance sprinkled across her surface, but I like her both because I think it is a charming composition, and also because she is the only example I have that features the photographer’s identification on the front of the card. Sawtell clearly used at least two variant spellings of his last name during his career.

Undated photograph by William F. Sawtell. Author's collection.

Undated photograph by William F. Sawtell. Author’s collection.

Ladies far outnumber gentleman in my small sampling. This is one particularly strong image of an older man.

Verso of a William F. Sawtell photograph. Author's collection.

Verso of a William F. Sawtell photograph. Author’s collection.

The style of the back of a portrait is sometimes as compelling as the photograph itself. I particularly like the two versos that I have featured here. Both include a camera as well as an artist’s paint palette. While this is likely a visual allusion to the photographer as artist, I like that it also calls to mind Sawtell’s actual talents as a painter.

Undated photograph by William F. Sawtell. Author's collection.

Undated photograph by William F. Sawtell. Author’s collection.

This young lady is a stunner. The verso of her image is identical to the one shown at the top of the post. Note the similarity in backdrops to the gentleman above.

I wish there was a way to determine the identities of any of these individuals. They might be the relatives of someone reading this blog. As much as I love collecting these old photographs, it also makes me a tiny bit sad. When I visit local antique shops, and search through endless piles of such pictures–keepsakes once so precious to their original owners–I can’t help but think of them as orphans. They are cut adrift in time. Remembrances, without the remembering.

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