Lot 302
  • 302

WHITMAN, WALT. SIGNED CARTE-DE-VISITE PHOTOGRAPH BY BENJAMIN GURNEY, 1875

Estimate
1,000 - 1,500 USD
Log in to view results
bidding is closed

Description

  • Signed Carte-de-visite photograph by Benjamin Gurney, 1875
Mounted albumen photograph (4 1/4 x 2 1/2 in.; 105 x 50 mm). signed in ink in the print "Walt Whitman" with Gurney Studios 17 Union Square address printed on card mount; minor toning.

Condition

Minor toning.
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.

Catalogue Note

An evocative image of the poet later in life. Benjamin Gurney was the son of Jeremiah Gurney, the noted jeweler turned daguerreotypist from Saratoga Springs, NY. Their Manhattan studio on Broadway became one of the most active portrait studios of the 19th century. The address on the card, 17 Union Square, is recorded as Benjamin's studio that he relocated to after his father's death and also that of George Rockwood, the photographer who helped popularize celebrity carte-de-visites.

Whitman was the likely the most photographed writer of the 19th century and his relationship with the camera started early in his career – indeed the famous portrait frontispiece of Leaves of Grass was taken from a daguerreotype. As cabinet cards became more accessible to the public, Whitman’s image became incredibly popular and thrust him into the status of a celebrity author, a writer who everyone felt they knew as they were so familiar with his likeness.

Interestingly, Whitman eventually tired of so many images of himself being available:"my head gets about: is easily recognized.... I meet new Walt Whitmans every day. There are dozens of me afloat. I don't know which Walt Whitman I am." (Horace Traubel, With Walt Whitman in Camden, vol. 1. Boston: Small Maynard, 1906. p 108)