A personal exploration of the American West and the work of one of America’s greatest photographers.
Timothy O’Sullivan is America’s most famous war photographer. You know his work even if you don’t know his A Harvest of Death , taken at Gettysburg, is an icon of the Civil War. He was also among the first photographers to elevate what was then a trade to the status of fine art. The images of the American West he made after the war, while traveling with the surveys led by Clarence King and George Wheeler, display a prescient awareness of what photography would become; years later, Ansel Adams would declare his work “surrealistic and disturbing.”
At the same time, we know very little about O’Sullivan himself. Nor do we know―really know―much more about the landscapes he captured. Robert Sullivan’s Double Exposure sets off in pursuit of these two enigmas. This book documents the author’s own road trip across the West in search of the places, many long forgotten or paved over, that O’Sullivan pictured. It also stages a reckoning with how the changes wrought on the land were already under way in the 1860s and '70s, and how these changes were a continuation of the Civil War by other means. Sullivan, known for his probing investigations of place in the pages of The New Yorker and books like Rats and My American Revolution , has produced a work that, like O’Sullivan’s magisterial photos of geysers and hot springs, exposes a fissure in the American landscape itself.
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
Robert Sullivan is the author of Rats, The Meadowlands, A Whale Hunt, and most recently, The Thoreau You Don’t Know. His writing has appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Times, New York magazine, A Public Space, and Vogue, where he is a contributing editor. He was born in Manhattan and now lives in Brooklyn, New York.
An excellent book - thoroughly researched and very enjoyable.
As a photographer, I found the historical details about the technical challenges faced by O'Sullivan, trying to capture even a single image during that era, incredibly interesting and insightful. Carrying all that equipment in a wagon, no less! Learning about the historical context of the surveyed areas was a further plus.
The author examined the enigmatic life of O'Sullivan, uncovering how he might have captured the landscapes and towns during his expeditions. I found that there were many thoughtful reflections on the historical and cultural significance of the period, and this, of course, led me to slow way down in my reading. If I'm given a very strong narrative and/or 'picture' to imagine, I need to sit with it awhile before continuing... It's one of those kinds of books.
If you, like me, love learning about the history of the American West, enjoy photography, or introspective travel writing, "Double Exposure" is a must-read. I enjoyed the book very much. Five stars plus. (I'd love to have it on Audible as well!) Thank you to NetGalley for the opportunity to read this!
This book begins with the author letting us know this is not a biography of Timothy O'Sullivan, and that is correct. He makes a point to remind you various times that there's not much to go on about his life except the photos he had taken so he has to use a lot of history of the people he worked for, specifically Clarence King and George Wheeler, as well as going into detail about how he as the author found some of this information and how he perceived the changes made to the landscape since O'Sullivan took his pictures of the west.
It's interesting but its longer than it needs to be.
New Yorker's short take: https://www.newyorker.com/best-books-... "Beginning in 1867, the photographer Timothy O’Sullivan explored the American West as part of government-sponsored geological surveys. He was already known for his images of Civil War battlefields, which defined the conflict for many Americans, and the photographs he took during his later travels attest to the nation’s transformations following the war. Retracing O’Sullivan’s itinerary more than a century later for this study, Sullivan deftly takes up such themes as the political power of both photography and geology, the United States’ tortured racial hierarchies, the exploitation of natural resources—including land, gold, and silver—and the dispossession of Indigenous communities."
Progress report 9/15/24: I started reading (then skimming ) this last night, and it's not what I was expecting. The author is not a photographer, and most of what I read is the author's rather half-baked efforts to revisit the current-day scenes of some of O'Sullivan's historic 19th-century photos. My main interest is in the western US photos, taken 1867-69 with Clarence King's 40th Parallel geological survey. There's a nice gallery of these here: https://www.theatlantic.com/photo/201... Which is good, since the only photos in Sullivan's (no relation) book are small, dim halftones.
So. There's some interesting stuff here, especially about O’Sullivan's working techniques: this was very early days for photography, wet-plate collodion photos, a slow and tricky process. So I'm not sure how much of this I'll actually read.
The book came due, and I have no plans to return to it. Not rated, since I only read and skimmed maybe a third of it. Not really what I was hoping for.
Timothy O'Sullivan was an American photographer in the 19th century. Some of his photos are among the most iconic of the American Civil War. After the war, O'Sullivan traveled to the American West, raising photography to an art form with his pictures of what was still considered to be unusual locations. His work had an impact on photographer Ansel Adams.
Despite the longevity of his work and his obvious skills, very little is actually known about O'Sullivan, which in many ways mirrors the locations he's photographed - unusual and sometimes forgotten locations that evoke strong emotions.
Author Robert Sullivan sets out to learn more about both - O'Sullivan and his chosen vistas. Along the way, Sullivan reflects on America, the changes that have occurred over the past century, as well as how poorly Indigenous People were treated in O'Sullivan's time and how things haven't changed much there.
I really thought I'd find this book to be more enjoyable than I did. I have a strong interest in photography (especially stereo photography - more on that in a moment) and also in good nature writing, so this looked appealing based on the cover and the description. But Sullivan notes in the beginning that this isn't a biography - which is true - but then what is it? Is it a 448 page essay?
Sullivan's reflections get a bit long and tedious and we get the impression that he's reflecting very much for an audience rather than for himself. When he was a bit more casual his writing is more sincere and interesting.
I feel like a great opportunity (or two) was missed here. O'Sullivan was a photographer and while Sullivan the author explains, sometimes at length, the work O'Sullivan went to in order to create his photo. It would have been nice to have more than a small handful of photos to accompany the book - a very poorly/tiny printed to boot.
But the book is called Double Exposure, and we can see that the photo on the cover is part of a stereo pair. Stereo photos (two photos printed side by side which, when viewed through a special viewer, brought the scene into three dimensions) were quite popular in O'Sullivan's time. More explanation of this process would have been nice and more reflection on how the stereo cards brought the viewers closer to O'Sullivan's subjects might have livened up the narrative.
I think one must be truly invested in the subject to really enjoy this book. While not invested, I was hoping to learn a few things, but I couldn't stay interested long enough each time I sat down to read this.
Looking for a good book? If you're interested in historical photography or exploration of the American West, you might enjoy Robert Sullivan's Double Exposure: Resurveying the West with Timothy O'Sullivan, America's Most Mysterious War Photographer. But you need to be really interested before you dig in.
I received a digital copy of this book from the publisher, through Netgalley, in exchange for an honest review.
I'm giving a "gentleman's two stars" to a disappointing, and error-laced, book, that could have been so much more.
The concept was good — retrace the post-Civil War Western travels, on government exploration expeditions, of pioneering photographer Timothy O'Sullivan, who had worked for Matthew Brady and Alexander Gardiner, and when in the latter's employ, shot "my link text" on the field of Gettysburg just days after the battle. The idea of doing so while also offering a travelogue, noting government mistreatment of American Indians in the area of these expeditions, and a bit of memoir all in the mix? Sounded better, especially when Sullivan talks about what he hints as being some sort of personal chronic illness in the opening chapter; I kind of wanted to root for him.
The execution was horrible. I stayed sympathetic in the first half of the book, even with some of its "issues," but eventually gave up.
First, Sullivan is geographically challenged. He puts Mono Lake south of Death Valley, at least when Jedediah Smith is coming upon it. Cañon de Chelly, Aridzona, is more like 75 miles from Fort Defiance than 20. It's no wonder he got lost multiple times near Fallon, Nevada. (He also calls US 50, the fabled "Loneliest Road," State Road 50.)
Geographically challenged shading into error? Using "endothermic" when he meant "endorheic" will do that.
Outright error?
Calling John Hay Lincoln's Secretary of State rather than personal secretary, tho he later corrects that to Sec'y of State for McKinley.
The last error? And one that "cut"?
Coronado did NOT sign Inscription Rock at El Morro, though there is some evidence, in horseshoe nails and other bits of iron, that his expedition passed by. Oñate is the first European to leave his mark. Having grown up just an hour away, and having returned there multiple times as an adult? This was just too much.
I was already grokking by then; the rest was a light skim.
(Edit: Add that while the Sullivan photos are presented as shot, uncropped, on a standard hardbound book page, that means they're small and since there are no slick plates pages, detail gets lost even when it's big enough you might otherwise see it.)
Add in that the book doesn't have an index, and, no — skip this.
Robert Sullivan surveys the work of the eponymous early photographer Timothy O’Sullivan, who photographed the Union Army during the Civil War and then continued his field photography as, after the war, the Army marched west, northerners and southerners together, to ‘pacify’ the west for settlement and development. Re-visiting and re-framing O’Sullivan’s most famous photographic sites, one of our most interesting writers has given us a new appreciation of the American conquest of its western empire. The book is structured around photographs, so is best read in hard cover.
As much as an introspective into Robert Sullivan as it is a study of Timothy O'Sullivan's photography and the West's history, this book almost felt like reading someone's diary at points. It felt like I was traveling the west with both O'Sullivan and Sullivan, and I really enjoyed Sullivan's more casual than academic approach to discussing history.