A web log, an æthereal scrap-book if you will, with a somewhat vintage flavour. News items, occurrences, experiences, thoughts and opinions related to Victoriana through to Fifties Americana can all be found here.
More steam-powered goodness now, from a time before lock-down (remember those days? No, me neither), featuring one of this blogger's favourite type of stories - one of the sort that has also been long missing from Eclectic Ephemera's pages: the "vintage-machinery-triumphs-over-modern-equivalent" exploit.
The vintage machinery in this instance is Avis, a 102-year-old steam traction engine owned by Leicestershire father and son enthusiasts Robert and Richard Holt. As the accompanying article explains, in a wonderful example of serendipity the son happens to work for a local demolition firm that was in the process of dismantling some disused quarry equipment and which was having difficulty in removing parts of the old conveyor belt using its modern excavators. Having exhausted all other alternatives and knowing of Avis's existence, the M.D. of the company, clearly a sensible and open-minded fellow, approached the Holts to see if they and their beautifully-restored traction engine could lend a hand.
The result was a clear demonstration of the lasting power of a steam traction engine, a resounding success for Avis and her owners and proof that these sturdily-built machines are still more than capable of doing jobs they were originally designed for over a century ago. That once she got up a good head of steam Avis made the pulling of several tonnes of metal up a steep incline "look easy" is a wonderful testament to Edwardian engineering and just a sheer delight to see.
Kudos should also go to the management and owners of AR Demolition for their appreciation of traditional machinery, their attitude towards using it in conjunction with more modern methods and the "out-of-the-box" thinking to get the Holts and Avis involved in the first place - something not many firms, particularly those in the construction industry, would consider doing these days I'll wager. That they would happily use Avis again if circumstances called for it speaks volumes for both the machine's ability and the company's ethos.
A hearty "well done" to all concerned then, but especially to Avis for showing that century-old technology doesn't just belong in a museum and can still be a viable alternative to more modern equipment. Here's hoping she has many more jobs ahead of her with AR Demolition.
There hasn't been much in the way of Steampunk-themed articles featured on this blog of late (mind you I've only been back for three months) but this one about a beautiful home-built, steam-powered motorcycle more than makes up for it.
The creation of a steam engine enthusiast from Carlton in North Yorkshire, this fantastic machine is all the more remarkable for having been built from scratch over the course of four years - including the engine which was pieced together from various sources! It's a testament to the skill and the vision of Mr Sanderson that the end result is such a professional example of Victorian engineering in a wonderful Steampunk design and he should be justly proud of his achievement.
It does look quite a brute of a machine, though, doesn't it - and I can't get over (and no doubt wouldn't be able to see over) the size of that chimney! I imagine that it must interfere with forward visibility just a tad... What it must be like to sit astride a high-pressurised boiler full of steam and hot water I wouldn't like to guess, either; I only know I would be a little nervous - although not above giving it a go I suppose.
Still I can only express again my admiration for the thought and workmanship that has obviously gone into this incredible machine over such a long period of time. The world is a fuller place for its existence and that of skilled enthusiasts like Mr Sanderson and it can rightly take its place alongside any of the one-off and custom-made Steampunk motorbikes that are out there and mentioned in the accompanying article.
Finally, to prove it's a real runner and not just a stationary engine (ha-ha, did you see what I did there...?), here to finish with is footage of the happy owner taking his fantastic steam-powered motorcycle for its first test drive:
Lost photographs and discarded picture albums have been a recurring theme on this blog over the years - from photos of a still under construction Tower Bridge being found in a skip, 5,000 First World War photos rescued from rubbish dumps, to rare images of the British Raj from over one hundred years ago turning up in a shoe box. On each occasion we have marvelled at the wonderful glimpse into the past these eleventh-hour rediscoveries have afforded us while at the same time lamenting the fact that they have been so undervalued as to have been left forgotten for decades or more, often to the point of their near-destruction.
This latest article is no exception and once again it is thanks to the efforts of one collector that a number of old photographs - primarily picture postcards of his home town of Coventry and studio portraits of its inhabitants - have been saved for posterity. Peter Knight's attitude towards preserving these "forgotten faces" is one that we can well appreciate - the thought that they might represent all that is left of a person's life, that they are the last surviving visual documentation of their existence and the travesty that would result if they were just left to gather dust (or worse).
What gives this story added inspiration is that Mr Knight has been able to use modern technology to restore the images to a startling degree of freshness, colourising them and in some cases even employing the much talked-of computer trickery that is "deep fake" to slightly animate the photos. While I am not convinced about the latter technique, the colourisation does go some way to adding to the immediacy of the pictures, to reinvigorating the subject and, indeed, bringing them back to life. Mr Knight's idea of incorporating these photographs into a virtual online world of an historical Coventry is also an intriguing project and one that I hope succeeds.
There has been some degree of backlash from certain quarters recently regarding how far "restoration" of old photographs and cine-footage should go following the colourisation, addition of sound effects and 4K HD & frame rate upscaling applied to the famous Lumière brothers' 1896 filmL'Arrivée d'un train à La Ciotatand other late 19th-/ early 20th-century footage on YouTube. As a student of history I can well understand the disquiet that is felt at the perhaps unnecessary meddling with things that were products of their time and should be understood and appreciated as such but equally I can appreciate the thinking behind it and in particular the benefits to the originals and their history that may result. For example, is Peter Jackson's recent excellent WW1 film They Shall Not Grow Old just "showmanship" or a legitimate attempt to modernise important historical footage for a new, 21st century audience? As I have said we as lovers of times gone by can appreciate black & white pictures and films as windows to the past but to many [young] people it is as alien and as relevant as another planet - noiseless, colourless, oddly-dressed people long since dead. If adding colour, realistic movement and other modern technological features can help get new generations more interested and perhaps lead them back to the unadulterated original, with a better understanding and appreciation of what it represents, it might well help to avoid further examples of photographic abandonment like those mentioned and ensure the endurance of classic early cinema and historic photographs such as those saved from oblivion by the likes of Peter Knight and others.
***What do you think? Can film or photographs ever be over-restored? Let me know your thoughts in the comments below.***
A poignant yet remarkable story this - an incident one can scarcely imagining still happening but which I suppose we will keep seeing as more historical material from the period is unearthed, despite the lengthening passage of time since the end of the war.
An intriguing concatenation of circumstances looks to have led to this wartime letter and several others turning up after a prolonged period of time - first in the attic of a German ex-officer almost 30 years after first being written and now over 50 years later finally finding their way back (at least in part) to the families or villages of the senders, thanks to the work of the Suffolk Regiment Museum and later the Suffolk County Council's Archives.
In the instance of Private Harry Cole the archivists at Suffolk County Council also managed to locate surviving relatives in the persons of his two younger brothers, a quite incredible achievement after all these years made even more so by the fact that one of the brothers and an SCC archivist both live in the same village.
The fact that the siblings are still alive and remain in the same part of the country from which their brother would have left to join up brings a whole new level of immediacy to this particular story and serves as a welcome reminder that for all the time that has passed since the end of the Second World War 75 years ago it remains a relatively recent event in our history with people still alive today who were directly affected by it. All the more reason then to applaud Suffolk Archives for its work in trying to return these letters to their rightful owners and, where that has not been possible, to produce an excellent online exhibition featuring some of them. It is a fine example of local history within the context of a global war, which I look forward to delving into in detail and which hopefully might reunite a few more families with these long-lost reminders of relatives and their sacrifices during the Second World War.
This article from last month once again serves as a reminder that there are still many lost or misattributed films from the early years of cinema just waiting to be discovered - and in this particular case not only examples from the usual English-speaking sources of Hollywood or British productions.
The film in this instance is an early example of a tourism documentary featuring as it does fascinating footage of the Spanish Balearic island of Mallorca, still famous today as a holiday hot-spot. Originally assumed to be a 1926 silent film directed by a man, this 8-minute "æsthetic documentary" - simply titled Mallorca - had been gathering dust on the shelves of the Filmoteca Española's archives for the best part of 40 years until lock-down gave archivists the opportunity to review and re-evaluate it.
The result is one of those remarkable rediscoveries that often come with the fresh re-examining of a film that has been left in storage, often wrongly-labelled, for a prolonged period of time. Far from being a minor piece of 1920s local tourism footage by a male director it has now more or less been identified as an early 1930s example complete with soundtrack and by female director Maria Forteza (although how they came to miss that on the credits is anyone's guess) - making it possibly the first sound picture directed by a woman in Spain.
Although it sounds like there is still some work to be done to definitively date and ascribe this short film it is nevertheless a welcome find and I am pleased to see the specialists at the Filmoteca Española finally taking a proper interest in it - thanks in part to lock-down of all things! It's importance to the history of Spanish cinema and women in film generally is obvious and I'm glad to see its rediscovery is prompting discussion about the importance of keeping - and more importantly regularly checking - a film archive. Unfortunately the entire film is no longer available to view on their website but there are snippets on YouTube as part of Spanish news coverage (habla Español?) here and here. Once again this find gives hope for the future of other early films presumed lost and with luck this won't be the last one to be rediscovered as a result of the coronavirus lock-down.
Museums, art galleries, heritage sites and the like are regrettably having a tough time of things at the moment, with lock-down having seriously impacted many excellent institutions. Despite this risk to their very existence the vast majority seem to have stepped up to the crease with remarkable initiative, with some superb online curatorial videos and similar displays available on YouTube and the like. The exhibition mentioned in this article, although photographic rather than audiovisual in nature, is no less fascinating featuring as it does the first photographic record of a royal tour of the Middle East.
This was Edward, the Prince of Wales' (later to become King Edward VII) 1862 trip to Greece, the then Ottoman Empire, the Holy Land and finally to Egypt - partly designed to bolster Britain's relations with those countries and but also it seems to deflect attention from one of Bertie's many flings with a female member of the British theatre scene(!). In a very modern and what would nowadays be called a "damage-limitation exercise", the experienced and highly-respected photographer Francis Bedford was sent along as one of the party to document the tour in the new medium of photography.
Now thanks to the Barber Institute of Fine Arts the photos from that tour are available to view online as part of its Sights of Wonder exhibition. Originally intended to be a physical display at the Institute's Birmingham location it has been swiftly and expertly switched to a web-based digital exhibit and jolly well done it is too. Not only does it showcase Bedford's remarkable pictures of historic sites that had previously only been seen (if at all) as paintings or drawings, but it also includes excerpts from Edward's personal diary and contemporary news reports - all of which add to the overall fascination immeasurably.
Everyone involved is worthy of congratulation on creating such an interesting and absorbing exhibit during these difficult times and I'm particularly pleased to note the involvement of some University of Birmingham history students - I hope this will benefit and inspire them to future endeavours in preserving these important aspects of our history. In the meantime although it is heartening to see how well some museums are adapting to the ongoing situation there are of course many that are still closed and facing an uncertain future. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you how important it is that we support those institutions that are struggling through these hard times, if only by visiting them again when circumstances are such that they are able to reopen.
To show that modern technology can work hand-in-hand with vintage, and, as in this case, perhaps even enhance it, comes this clever idea for classic cars that reintroduces a small, forgotten aspect of motoring - the tax disc.
Phased out in 2014 with the advent of automatic number-plate recognition and automated databases, the tax disc had existed for over 90 years as legal and tangible proof that car owners in the UK had paid their Road Fund Licence (or more properly Vehicle Excise Duty) for a period of 6 or 12 months. First introduced in January 1921 as part of the Roads Act 1920, the tax disc evolved over the decades to become ever more sophisticated to combat counterfeiting, but always contained the core information about the vehicle it was displayed on (on the nearside of the front windscreen, or in a special holder in the case of motorcycles) - namely the make and registration number, plus details of the amount paid, expiry date, issuing authority and later a barcode containing all such information and more.
Since their discontinuation in October 2014, following the introduction of a centralised online database, the windscreens of cars up and down the country have seemed all the barer for the loss of this little circular piece of paper (and the government's coffers upwards of £100m per year emptier with road tax evasion reportedly trebling as a result - proof again that maybe modern technology isn't always the best answer to everything and perhaps reason enough to reintroduce the humble tax disc to all cars again... Sorry, rant over.)
Nowhere is this loss more marked than in the classic car world, however, where the denuded windscreen looks even more out of place - so much so, in fact, that many classic car owners in my experience have kept back or otherwise recreated period tax discs so that they may display them correctly (and did you know that collecting tax discs is a recognised hobby with its own name - velology). Now a fellow motoring enthusiast has come up with a wizard idea that kills two birds with one stone, not only providing a suitably vintage-looking tax disc-like device to display in the time-honoured place but one that also incorporates modern technology in the form of the now-ubiquitous QR code (nowadays found on pretty much everything from clothes labels to bus stops, it seems) that allows the owner to upload information on the car to an online portal, which can be accessed by and downloaded to any interested party's smartphone. This can include everything from the car's history, restoration story, right down to whether the car is for sale or available to hire - with pictures, video, the works.
The claim is that this innovation will benefit classic car owners and fans alike by allowing the former to quickly and easily upload all the vehicle's details to one place, so keeping its provenance centralised, while giving the latter easier access to information on the car's history that might not otherwise be obviously available. Anything that inspires owners to display their pride and joy more regularly and in greater detail or encourages new generations to take an interest in the history of motor cars is to be applauded, although one hopes that this doesn't spell the end for the still welcome display board and badge bar, nor of interesting and enjoyable chats with the owner. Knowing classic car buffs as I do, however, I foresee this new app working in collaboration with the more traditional display elements and I certainly expect to see a few of these jolly nice-looking Car Facts Discs in evidence when I next visit a vintage car rally.
Another good news lock-down story now, featuring an A-level Electronics student with an obvious enthusiasm for vintage radios. Although the article makes much of young Mr Martins' use of lock-down time to maximise his restoration work, clearly this has been a long-term hobby for him and certainly something that he seems intent to continue - and more power to him!
It is splendid also to encounter such a welcome attitude towards old technology as that displayed by this 19-year-old chap - quite a rare thing amongst his generation in fact, I would venture to suggest. Where most teenagers would be gushing over the latest piece of black or white "smart" tech this lad is [rightly] lamenting about their "sterile" and overly slick design and enthusing about the "endearing charm" of vintage radios and the style they represent. It is a view that has long been championed both here on Eclectic Ephemera (and again recently) and elsewhere in the blogosphere and I find myself nodding in agreement with everything young Diogo says. It's equally wonderful to see him talk with obvious appreciation about the social history and "ritual" of listening to the radio and encouraging to note that he sees the legacy in it all as something to be preserved for future generations.
With traditional analogue radios under threat from the more modern digital platforms (which do have their place, don't get me wrong, but not at the expense of AM and FM) it is good to know that there are young people out there still demonstrably interested in conserving this tried-and-tested technology and ensuring that classic radios from the past are given a new lease of life. Well done to Diogo, I say, and long may he continue to follow his passion providing sanctuary for discarded wirelesses.
Since restarting Eclectic Ephemera in March this year I haven't been able to help but perceive a dispiriting trend within the vintage blogosphere - something that I first began to notice a few years prior but which has now reached such a point that I feel moved to record my own thoughts on the matter. It is simply this - there seems to be far fewer active vintage blogs (and by blogs I mean the traditional written "web logs" hosted by the likes of Blogger, Wordpress and LiveJournal) than there once were. So many vintage bloggers appear to have vanished into the æther that it seems as though there are only a handful of us left. My blog roll and reading list of what I call "vintage lifestyle blogs" are now at least two-thirds smaller than they were ten years ago.
This is something that I'm glad to note I am not alone in observing, as fellow bloggers Harlow Darling and RetroCat have both mentioned the fact in recent posts of their own and it is that which has also inspired me to write this post (and I apologise for the stream of consciousness that is about to follow!).
What, then, may be the reasons behind the demise of so many once excellent vintage blogs and the dearth of any new ones? Well I think HD and RetroCat both touch upon the main one in their posts - the inexorable rise of social media sites and apps such as FaceBook, Instagram, Twitter and TikTok and in particular the instant, quick-hit, image-heavy element therein that seems to appeal to so many people these days. RetroCat hits the nail on the head in describing this as "rapid consumption" - the internet equivalent of "fast food".
This links to my next theory on why classic blogs might be declining - a generational shift. Now on the face of it this might seem at odds with the whole vintage blogosphere ethos, inasmuch as those of us (of any age) with an abiding interest in vintage would - if we dip our toes in the online world at all - tend to be the sort who gravitate to the more traditional media such as blogs like these. But in line with the decline in traditional bloggers comes the thought that the next generation - the teenagers and those in their early twenties who, although they may well be genuinely interested and enthusiastic about vintage, are much more tech-savvy and have, dare I say it, been brought up like so many of their generation on instantaneous online gratification - are generally less interested in writing long or even middling posts about their lifestyles, their vintage finds, their thoughts and feelings on the subject; preferring instead to simply post picture after picture, "tagging", "liking" and thumbs-upping" all and sundry - they are the so-called "influencers" that HD and RetroCat so rightly mention.
I have seen a similar situation affecting another once-thriving but now seriously under threat corner of the internet - the online chat-room. Now almost an extinct species, the chat-rooms I still visit that were once teeming with interesting discussion almost all lie largely silent and dormant as everyone seems to have migrated to the behemoth that is FaceBook, with the rise in modern technology - specifically smartphones - aiding this move away from the traditional online media. In either case there sadly seems little that one can do to stem the tide, except to keep plugging away making regular appearances in the forlorn hope that it inspires others to engage in online conversation of more than a few letters and symbols. Of course every now and again one of the younger generation comes along who will embrace these older internet ways and it is up to us to encourage them where we encounter them in the hope that they will inject new blood into what is fast becoming a dying art form.
A further thought in a similar vein is the simple fact that as people age (sorry to have to bring it up, but there it is) they do change. Their views may alter over time; their likes and interests change and evolve to the point where they may no longer have the desire to follow a certain lifestyle. New paths may open up for them to explore, and who are we to begrudge them that? Family life, work commitments, or other changes in personal life may all conspire to alter someone's personality to the extent that they don't want to blog about their lives any more or if they do they do so through more modern social media because of the aforementioned instantaneousness and ease of use.
The other thing I have noticed, which may be in part linked to the above but which in fact I do feel has more to do with other factors, is the apparent decline in friendly camaraderie and interaction that used to so characterise the vintage blogosphere. Looking back to when I - and many others - started blogging 11 years ago it seems to me that we were writing in a much more positive and upbeat style, as well as commenting freely on posts, linking to each others' blogs and generally making encouraging noises to one another. Now I'm not saying this has stopped being the case entirely, nor do I mean to shame anyone into feeling that they're "not doing enough" - far from it! However I cannot get away from the fact that there does seem to have been a drop off in online interaction between remaining bloggers and while the reasons outlined above are likely involved I am given to wonder if society as a whole may not be playing a part as well.
No-one can deny that we have seen massive social as well as technological changes in the last decade and, sad to say, some of them (especially the former) have not always been positive. In the four years alone that this blog was on hiatus there have been some sea changes throughout the world, the ripples of which will have been felt by all and sundry. We only have to look at the current Covid crisis and the deplorable situation in America to note but two recent areas of massively negative social upheaval. How could one not expect that to have a wider influence on people's interactions, views, health and happiness? Who would want to blog about, say, 1930s fashion, or a classic film, when the world is in such a mess? Even when we do, it would be unreasonable not to expect some negativity to make its way - even subconsciously - into our posts.
That, however, is what I created Eclectic Ephemera for and although I still find myself at times wondering if I ought to put this place to bed once and for all I do genuinely enjoy stretching my writing muscles on here in combating the all-pervading media negativity with vintage-inspired items that interest me (and, I hope, by extension, you the readers) and I hope to be able to continue doing so for a long time to come, instant social media or not. I also hope and look forward to reading many an absorbing vintage blog both old and - hopefully! - new, with the fervent wish and belief that tomorrow will be a good day and that with everyone's help the vintage blogosphere will continue to flourish.
***What are your thoughts on the state of the vintage blogging scene? Let me know in the comments below.***
.jpg)
_from_OCE3_(LJ14_SZR)%2C_Regent_Street_Bus_Cavalcade.jpg)
.jpg)
#/media/File:Francis_Bedford_-_The_Sphinx,_the_Great_Pyramid_and_two_lesser_Pyramids,_Ghizeh,_Egypt_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg){kind=link}
_from_OCE3_(LJ14_SZR),_Regent_Street_Bus_Cavalcade.jpg){kind=link}