The Sudek Negatives

Guest post by V.I. Voltz

Found things often have good stories. In 1997 I was working in a darkroom in Prague. I was really working: when doing enlargements, I had three minutes per standard print and six minutes for "custom" prints with dodging and burning across a seven-and-a-half-hour work day. When developing, it was not uncommon to have to develop three Nikor ten-roll tanks at a time, all day. In busy periods I would load the rolls of film back-to-back.



Cleaning a dusty forgotten corner (all old darkrooms had these) one day, I found some old negatives, a mixture of 13x18cm and other big sheet film sizes and quite a few glass plates, all in sleeves. They looked beautiful. Out of hours, I got them out for a look. I recognised them instantly: Sudek.



I made two sets of contact prints, the very best I could, on Foma fibre base paper, with my best dodging and burning, printed the highlights a little dark and bleached them back for contrast, hot developer where they needed it, every trick I knew. I dried them slowly, taped to glass with gum packing tape, so they dried totally flat. They were really magnificent, even if I do say so myself.



I then gave the negatives to Sudek's archive. They weren't sure if they were the originals or copy negatives, but they had them. Pleased with myself, I gave one set of the prints I made to my cleaning lady, a native of Prague born during the World War II occupation who should have been able to retire but had been left close to destitute by the Velvet Revolution. I had the prints valued, and explained to my cleaning lady what the prints were worth and how and where she could sell them.



Plaque in Prague in memory of Josef Sudek

A few weeks later, with my departure from Prague imminent, my travel wallet went missing in my flat, with a lot of US dollars in cash in it. No sign of a break in. Worse, my passport and paper plane tickets were missing. I had no idea where they had gone. Just before I was about to go to the embassy to get a new passport, the Czech police (fairly scary) arrived at my work with my tickets and passport, but no cash.



In 2012 I got an email from the daughter of my cleaning lady, telling me my cleaning lady had died and asking if I wanted my photos back. I was busy with work and a young family, and I was not thinking, so I said yes. Some weeks later the second set of prints from the Sudek negatives appeared, beautifully packed, in my post box. In a letter, her daughter said her mother could never bring herself to sell them, but looked at them often. Her mother had also mentioned me occasionally and said what a "big favour" I had done her.



I am still not sure if my cleaning lady stole my cash, but I suspect so. I like the circularity of the story, and that I now have a set of those prints for looking at, and one to keep pristine on the shelf. And the negatives ended up where they should be.

V.I. Voltz

[Ed. note: Josef Sudek, 1896–1976, Czech photographer known as the "Poet of Prague," lost an arm in the First World War, and his army disability payments allowed him to pursue art. His pictures are atmospheric, romantic, frequently lyrical and lovely. Often taken in low light or shrouded with rain and mist, many of them have an undercurrent of mystery and a hint of melancholy. They almost never include people. He was widely celebrated, the subject of major exhibitions at home and abroad. He was personally something of a hoarder, and managed to amass a large classical record collection despite living under communism. He published 16 books in his lifetime. The first in English was Sudek by Sonja Bullaty (1978, reissued 1986). She was an early assistant of Sudek's and later became a lifelong friend; she went on to become an accomplished photographer in her own right. He often wrote letters to her on the backs of photographs.]

Original contents copyright 2023 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. (To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below or on the title of this post.)

Featured Comments from:

Mike Plews: "I have the Bullaty Sudek book. It has been a joy to me for decades. If you love photography you need to own a copy. Enchanting."

Kenneth Tanaka: "What an excellent story! I love these personal connection stories with renowned photographers of old. In addition to Sudek's moody, atmospheric imagery, he's equally known for his commercial illustration work. Wonderful examples of the modernism that was sweeping Europe in the late '20s and into the '30s. The collection at the Art Institute of Chicago has some excellent examples of Sudek's range of notable work. Thank you for sharing that terrific story!"

Comments

[Jeff]

I thoroughly enjoy my 1956 book, Josef Sudek Fotografie, still in fine condition, with dust jacket, despite many viewings. The pictures are wonderful, as is the tactile experience. One of my favorites.

[Mike Chisholm]

I ordered a copy of Sudek's "Smutna Krajina / Sad Landscape" direct from the Czech Republic a few years ago (a wonderful book of panoramic images of the "Black Triangle"). It comes in a robust clamshell box, which is just as well, as mine was delivered in a huge Czech postal sack, of the sort you might deliver potatoes or coal in.

My personal favourite, though, is "The Window of My Studio", published by Torst, which collects those rain and condensation streaked views of Sudek's garden from indide the studio. A beautifully made book.

Mike

[Bob Johnston]

Mr Voltz and Mike,
Thanks for sharing this wonderful story.

[DaveB]

Mike….this is why I love the Blog. More of these, the better. Thank you!

[Bob Johnston]

I forgot to mention. There is another little book, Joseph Sudek, by Anna Farova, published in 2002 by Fototorst. The reproduction is good and it has an English translation.

[Kenneth Tanaka]

Addendum: I found an excellent brief video on Josef Sudek made by Christie’s six years ago. Well worth your time if you’re not familiar with him.

[David Drake]

What a great story! But how did the negatives end up in a random darkroom in Prague? Or was it a random darkroom? I seem to recall that he worked in an old shed off his house? I guess that’s the big question.

[scott kirkpatrick]

Yes!! to the Bullaty Sudek book. I don't know the commercial work that Ken Tanaka singles out for additional scrutiny, but the plates in Bullaty's compilation have a wonderful, old fashioned and perhaps Eastern European mystery to them that is quite uniqueor at least Steiglitzian. Her introductory picture of Sudek's overflowing desk captures this mood perfectly:
https://flic.kr/p/2iXzX29

[CalvinAmari]

So where are the images, Mike? Awesome story, but you are kinda leaving us hanging.
I love the way Sudek cannot easily be characterized. Commentary sometimes pegs him as a romantic pictorialist and other times as a modernist, with his work fundamentally about the nature of the medium itself — or even a forerunner, like Blossfeldt, of the school of precision-tooled objectivistism. A large percent of his magnificent oeuvre are photos taken in his small ramshackle home, and pretty much all of it was taken within a small distance from that. I have one of the photos of a simple ridged water glass, of which there are many variants. I love his type of obsessiveness. Sudek shows that one need not travel to the Grand Canyon to photograph. Dilate what’s under your nose or in your neighborhood. My best photography by far was when I was living for a few years in a warehouse district in NYC (since developed) and I took a few photos every day while walking my dog, always in the same four to five block radius, but an inexhaustible wellspring nonetheless.

[jp41]

What an interesting story and exposure to a new (to me) photographer.

I contribute to the support of TOP for virtual gold nuggets like this article.

[Daniel]

All the angst for some of whether to carry a lighter Fuji or a way heavy Nikon... Sudek had one arm and carried an 8x10, len, film holders and tripod around for decades.
When confined to his home by the Nazi invaders he made great images of his windows, kitchen and garden.
Creativity matched by personal drive. Magic images that stand the test of time.