Recently I found a box in a file cabinet in the Smithsonian Photographic Services (SPS) cold vault labeled “nitrate.” Nitrocellulose was used as the first flexible film base and was replaced by acetate, or safety film, in the mid-1950’s. This may not seem like much of a red flag, but we tend to label this kind of material like this: Or this: Because nitrate is highly combustible. It doesn’t need oxygen to burn and will even continue to burn when under water. That whole flammable part makes it pretty much unsustainable and well, kind of dangerous, but we archivists do like challenges and heading off disasters. We took the opportunity to educate our interns about nitrocellulose and tested the negatives in our conservation lab to confirm that the contents of the box were indeed nitrate film. Many of the negatives in the box had taken on a discolored hue and a brittle consistency. For the most part, the images were still readable and we were able to take steps to ensure proper care and housing.  There were a few instances where the negatives had cracked into pieces beyond recognition of the original image content. Towards the bottom of the box we found some nitrate film that had actually melted onto pieces of broken glass plate negatives. What were broken glass plate negatives doing in a box of nitrate? Wish I could tell you, but I am glad they were. This response might seem contrary to how I should be reacting to collection material being in such a degraded state, but I immediately recognized a new raison d’être for these objects. The textures, layers, and colors generated by the fusion of film to glass resonated with me and I mentioned this experience to a friend who, being a fellow fan of the beauty of decay, wanted to shoot close ups of this phenomenon. The results, shown below, have given these objects new stories to tell and have equipped us with new lenses through which to view our content. We are in the business of providing content and we have the opportunity, if not the responsibility, to use that content to learn, to educate, and to imagine. And when I say “we,” I do not mean archivists; I really do mean all of us. Marvin’s recent post about artist Christian Boltanski, Beating Hearts, illustrates instances of archival material driving inspiration and it’s wonderful to see this kind of content taken to a new level. We, as archivists can tell you what it is and where it came from, but I encourage our audience to articulate what it could be. The example used in this post of nitrocellulose film melted onto glass is atypical of the contents we more generally make available for exploration and imagination. Check out other creative efforts on Flickr Commons:

You’ve probably noticed, in recent years, that in order to attract shoppers’ attention retail establishments have been filling both exterior and interior display spaces with big, colorful, and evocative photographic images. At venues as diverse as Abercrombie & Fitch, CVS, and the big box stores, slickly produced lifestyle photographs—of rippling abs, shiny tomatoes, sexy digital things, and smiley senior citizens—are installed and replaced often in order to catch your eye and seduce you into purchasing what you may or may not really need. In exploring how photography changes everything, and specifically the way we shop, we invited Paco Underhill, an expert in shopping behavior and merchandising, to shed some historical light on how visual displays get us into stores and move us through them.

In his piece for click!, Underhill reminds us that whether you’re in the medina in Marrakesh or trekking through the Mall of America, eye-catching presentations of goods are critical to commercial culture’s success. Today, it’s changing photo printing technology that’s making it easier and more cost-effective for retailers to communicate with and ensnare us. During much of the twentieth century, photographic images played a central and simpler role in print advertising, introducing new products and helping differentiate one brand from the next. Now, photography’s powers can be exploited in more sophisticated and subtle ways, and on a more spectacular scale. We walk by, between, or through images that create an through-the-looking-glass kind of experience in which we literally start to feel part of a picture-perfect world that results from buying the right thing.

It may seem as if photographic images have already overtaken retail real estate. They’re in display windows and on packaging. Banners dangle in atriums and over escalators. Decals are stuck to freezer doors and on linoleum floors. And yet, there’s always room for more. A few weeks ago, a company called Automated Media Sevices announced the introduction of 3GTv Networks™, a retail game-changer they claim will not only speed up the installation of multiple television monitors in retail environments, but will finally allow media agencies to buy and monitor advertising time in stores, much like they do on network and cable TV. Forget the forlorn and poorly programmed flat screen you may have seen hovering over the vegetables and a supermarket or two. In tests at nine supermarkets in Maryland and Virginia this summer, monitors of various shapes and sizes, will be attached to shelves and suspended over the aisles. As AMS describes it on their website, “art and science converge as experts from the fields of micro-electronic engineering, mechanical engineering, television metrics and analysis, retail marketing services, and graphics design collaborate to improve the television-advertising platform to create the 21st century form of television.” For a more user friendly, cartoon version of their pitch, watch below. Happy shopping!