Behind the Lens: Contextualizing Hannah Maynard’s Photography Surrounding Indigenous Peoples
Written by Sarah Ford
Edited by Ellie Finkelstein
The imagery surrounding Indigenous peoples can provide remarkable insight into the often extremely flawed ideologies and perspectives belonging to the people creating these images. Through capturing images of Indigenous peoples, photographers indirectly showcase their attitudes and feelings towards Indigenous sitters. Hannah Maynard’s photographs of Indigenous people in the mid- to late-19th century reinforce the Noble Savage paradigm, reflect power inequity between photographer and subject, and showcase a lack of understanding of Indigenous culture reflective of the surrounding historical context [1]. By situating these images amongst other photographs surrounding Indigenous subjects in British Columbia and Quebec, as well as the political conditions surrounding Indigenous peoples, it becomes clear that photographs like Maynard’s reflect and assist in facilitating the oppression of Indigenous peoples.
Figure 1: Hannah Maynard, Haida Washerwoman (1865-66), Photograph, Provincial Archives of British Columbia, Canada.
Hannah Maynard was born in Cornwall, England in 1834, married Richard Maynard at the age of eighteen and, shortly thereafter, settled in Bowmanville, in present day Ontario [2]. They quickly had four children before Richard temporarily left his family in pursuit of British Columbia gold [3]. During his absence, Maynard began to study photography, possibly under the R. and H. O’Hara photography, insurance and bookseller’s firm [4]. After her husband’s return, Maynard and her family relocated to Victoria where she set up her own photographic studio in 1862, becoming the first professional female photographer in British Columbia [5]. She became a prolific, varied and successful photographer, with newspapers hailing her as “industrious” and “persevering,” [6] and naming her a “leading photographer of Victoria," [7]. Throughout her career, Maynard’s work reflected technological and aesthetic innovation, as she experimented with composite images, multiple exposures and other new techniques [8]. Despite this aesthetic progressiveness, the content of Maynard’s work, particularly during her early career, reflects and reinforces problematic ideologies, which become most apparent in her creation of cartes-de-visite of Indigenous sitters.
Cartes-de-visite are small, 4” by 2½” photos mounted on calling cards, which became extremely popular in mid-19th century Europe and North-America [9]. The popularity of these cartes along with the low production cost made the sale of these pieces a lucrative business [10]. These products sold between $1.50 and $4.00 per dozen, representing a substantial cost considering that during this time, the male store clerk only earned eight dollars per week [11]. Therefore, these cartes became status symbols of the prosperous middle class [12]. In Victoria, they were sold mostly to tourists as keepsakes of their visit [13]. Generally, cartes-de-visite displayed various subject matter from family members to celebrities, but in Victoria, cartes-de-visite of Indigenous people were the most commonly produced and sold [14]. The British Columbia Provincial Museum, and the British Columbia Provincial Archives, have preserved 143 images of this nature created by at least five photographers in Victoria [15]. Of these, Maynard produced forty-two, making her one of the most prolific creators of these images at the time [16]. She positioned herself in an ideal place to make profit off these images, as they began to gain popularity the year she established her studio in 1862, and remained a lucrative business until the 1870s [17].
Of the many ways that Maynard’s images are problematic, the perpetuation of stereotypes surrounding Indigenous peoples is especially prominent. Maynard was one of the first photographers to isolate Indigenous sitters in studio images, and then re-photograph them onto photos of landscapes or Indigenous villages (fig 1 and 2) [18]. The resulting image portrayed a single Indigenous person often imposed on a vast landscape. Most prolific in this re-photography technique surrounding Indigenous subjects was Maynard’s contemporary, Benjamin Leeson [19]. Leeson was a photographer in British Columbia in the late 19th and early 20th century [20]. Working around the same time and in the same location as Maynard, their meeting would not be unlikely, and since they shared the same technique, they were certainly aware of each other’s work. Producing many images of this kind, Leeson’s photographs often included vast landscapes with a single Indigenous person, and a trace of the village, producing a feeling of isolation with the Indigenous person seeming to contemplate their disappearance [21]. These images are in direct alignment with the Noble Savage myth present in various forms of art [22].
The Noble Savage myth was a popular artistic motif showcasing Indigenous peoples’ calmness in the face of a supposedly “inevitable and pre-destined” decline of their culture as a result of the “superior” white settler culture [23]. One example directly adopting this ideology, “The Sunset of his Race” by Leeson, showcases an Indigenous man imposed on a vast landscape watching the sunset and appearing to contemplate the demise of his peoples (fig. 3). The title reinforces this representation, shedding light on Leeson’s intentional incorporation of this myth. The Noble Savage myth facilitated the forgetting of violence against Indigenous peoples, and enforced the myth of their “logically inevitable disappearance,” [24]. Not only did these images reflect the Romanticism of the Noble Savage myth pre-existent in other art, but their popularity assisted in solidifying this idea as emblematic of Western Canada [25]. Since these images were often sold to tourists as cartes-de-visite, they became symbols of the West when presented as proof of a visit to this territory [26].
Figure 2: Hannah Maynard, Haida Mary (1865-66), Photograph, Provincial Archives of British Columbia, Canada.
Not only did the content of cartes-de-visite reinforce stereotypical ideas of Indigenous peoples, but the conditions of production further contributed to the deeply unequal power dynamic that existed between Indigenous sitter and white photographer [27]. Indigenous sitters posing for cartes-de-visite were usually paid a small amount or offered goods in a barter exchange [28]. However, Indigenous peoples were not the patrons of these images, and therefore, had no control over how they were being represented [29]. Moreover, this payment was often seen as an annoyance to white photographers [30]. Leeson complained that this payment was a hindrance, placing a damper “upon the enthusiasm that might otherwise lead me to make a great many more exposures than I do,” [31]. This attitude informs the context under which Maynard’s photos were likely created.
The subordination of Indigenous sitters is further highlighted in the way in which sitters were photographed. While white patrons in studio portraits most often stood or sat on a chair, twenty percent of the 143 preserved carte-de-visite images contain Indigenous peoples sitting on the studio floor, further highlighting the marginal status given to Indigenous peoples [32]. One example is Maynard’s image of Indigenous workers, who had likely been selling products on the street outside the studio, allowing Maynard to easily access this kind of portrayal (fig. 4) [33]. In this image, the high angle and the seated position of the Indigenous subjects render them small and subordinate. More, scholars suggest that there was not very much interaction between the subjects and the photographer, and very little information is recorded to shed light on the identities of the subjects [34].
Figure 3: Benjamin Leeson, The Sunset of His Race (1913), Photograph, City of Vancouver Archives, Canada.
The lack of agency of Indigenous peoples over their own representation presents a power structure that is further complicated by the market for these photographs. As mentioned, white, middle-class tourists sought out these images as status symbols which were meant to be shared and presented to others as calling cards [35]. Presenting an image of an Indigenous person as a symbol of one’s own wealth showcases a dehumanization of Indigenous individuals. These images would communicate to other white people not only that the owner had enough money to travel to British Columbia, a land characterized by its supposed savageness, but to own a keepsake of a member of its “dying race,” [36]. Through these photos, imagery of Indigenous peoples was commercialized, further reinforcing power inequality as Indigenous people were reduced to symbols for white tourists to purchase.
Furthermore, as a result of the lack of Indigenous agency over representation, cartes-de-visite images present a blatant lack of understanding and respect surrounding Indigenous culture. Maynard had a preference for Haida imagery, often re-photographing the images on top of Haida villages without regard for the actual tribe the Indigenous subjects belonged to [37]. The disregard for the specificity of this individual and tribe becomes very apparent in this process, as the diversity of Indigenous culture was ignored. This lack of understanding of, and respect for, Indigenous culture was not isolated in British Columbia, but also reflected elsewhere in Canada.
Indigenous culture was not only simplified through photography, but this art form was also implicated in appropriation. William Notman, a prominent photographer in Montreal during the mid- to late-19th century, photographed many white sitters wearing Indigenous clothing and accessories [38]. This appropriation of Indigenous clothing not only demonstrates a lack of understanding and respect for Indigenous culture, but it further illustrates another phenomenon: the creation of Canadian identity through this imagery, and through the “othering” of Indigenous peoples [39]. An advertisement for the Notman studio illustrates the adoption of Indigenous imagery into the Canadian identity, stating that Indigenous props had the, “additional advantage of affording to friends at a distance an excellent idea of our Canadian winters, and of the following Canadian sports and out-door amusements,”[40]. By utilizing Indigenous imagery and activities as Canadian signifiers, Notman’s images further shed light on how Indigenous peoples were reduced to ideology, which white people were able to pick and choose from in order to assist in constructing Canadian identity [41].
While no evidence has been found to suggest Maynard photographed white sitters in Indigenous clothing, an attitude of appropriation and “othering” of Indigenous peoples is present in her work. The ideal of the Noble Savage was adopted by white tourists and became emblematic of Western Canadian ideology, while the specificity of Indigenous peoples was ignored [42]. Therefore, Maynard’s images highlight an idealization and commodification of Indigenous peoples and culture in order to make profit while rejecting the individual.
The white colonial gaze surrounding images of Indigenous persons is further highlighted by ethnographic efforts of the time. Again, it is highly likely that Maynard was aware of these efforts, considering she subscribed to four separate photography journals [43]. While she did not directly adopt this practice, it surely informed her attitude towards Indigenous peoples as subjects and types. Photographs of Indigenous people also served the purpose of documenting racial “types,” [44]. While no evidence has been found to suggest Maynard’s works directly and intentionally served this purpose, another photographer of Victoria demonstrates this initiative. George Dawson was a prolific photographer in British Columbia in the 19th century, and his main purpose was to conduct ethnographic surveys of Indigenous peoples [45]. Even going as far as unearthing graves to recover head shapes, Dawson’s pseudo-scientific work illustrates another power dynamic, establishing white settlers as students and Indigenous people as objects to be studied [46]. These images reflect the exotification of Indigenous peoples, as well as the salvage paradigm of documenting a dying race on this territory [47].
Cartes-de-visite began to decrease in popularity in the 1870s, as larger photographs became more popular [48]. Maynard accommodated to local markets, and moved towards landscape photography and on-site Indigenous documentation [49]. It would have been considered remarkably inappropriate and dangerous for a woman at this time to enter the wilderness of Victoria without being accompanied by a man [50]. Therefore, after teaching her husband photography, Maynard accompanied him on his photography expeditions around British Columbia [51]. Despite the change in photographic processes, these images were still bathed in flawed assumptions about Indigenous peoples. In her journal, Maynard’s notes illustrate how these trips were not void of problematic Indigenous stereotyping. She writes, “3 indians came up with nothing on but a piece of old blanket. However they did not kill me. We took three negatives [sic],” [52]. This description exposes the conditions and attitudes under which these images were taken. The photographs taken of Indigenous people on-site follow similar conventions as the carte-de-visite, often propagating the Noble Savage myth, and recording little information on photographic subjects [53].
Figure 4: Hannah Maynard, Untitled (1875), Photograph, British Columbia Provincial Museum, Canada
Figure 5: Benjamin A Haldane, Frederick Ridley.
Concomitant to the Noble Savage ideology in photography depicting Indigenous subjects was the idea of the terra nullius in landscape photography [54]. Maynard, along with her husband became an avid landscape photographer. Further, analysis of this form of photography is crucial to an understanding of the relations to, and perspectives of, Indigenous populations [55]. This style gained Maynard transnational praise, and one 1878 article in Seattle’s Weekly Pacific Tribune stated that, “people wanting views of British Columbia will do well to patronize Mrs. Maynard,” [56] Despite this praise, these images propagated problematic ideologies surrounding Indigenous peoples. The development of photography in British Columbia was closely linked to land, as many photographers at the time were hired for surveying [57]. The land of British Columbia was relatively undeveloped, and the Western Canadian ideology of an untamed, wild territory was often propagated in these images [58]. Landscape images were also used to attract tourists, since images of “empty” and “untouched” landscapes were popular and in demand. The images contributed to the reinforcement of the idea of terra nullius, ignoring that the land belongs to Indigenous peoples [59]. These images encode the notion that the land was ready for the taking, and full of untapped potential [60]. Traces of the Canadian Pacific Railway are often included to suggest the beginning of a civilization [61]. These photographs shed light on the conditions that facilitated the appropriation of Indigenous lands, and the oppression of Indigenous peoples.
These images do not exist within a vacuum, but are surrounded by political and historical context surrounding Indigenous peoples. In 1876, the Indian Act was established, deeming Indigenous people wards of the state, and banning their cultural practices among other methods of controlling and suppressing Indigenous lives [62]. This government-sanctioned oppression of Indigenous peoples sheds light on the context surrounding the mentioned images. Not only do these images reflect the extreme subordination of Indigenous peoples, but their popularity assisted in promoting false ideals that aided in forgetting a history of colonial violence and disregarding the humanity and specificity of Indigenous persons [63].
Despite this overwhelming negative representation of Indigenous peoples in the photographs of white settlers, it is important to mention that other perspectives were available from Indigenous persons themselves. Benjamin A Haldane, a Tsimshian photographer from Metlakatala, Alaska traveled the coast of British Columbia during the late 19th century [64]. In his studio, he photographed Indigenous peoples, whom were often the patrons of these images, with conventions similar to the photography of white sitters (fig. 5) [65]. His photographs demonstrated Indigenous peoples as prospering, wearing expensive clothing and surrounded by lush fabrics [66]. More, the name and occupation of the subjects was fully documented [67]. The idea of Indigenous people as thriving sharply contrasts the photos discussed prior, and would have opposed the dominant notion of an inferior, dying race [68]. Haldane’s presence in British Columbia provides crucial context to how the white gaze was being opposed and how alternatives were presented [69].
Nevertheless, photographs like those taken by Maynard, and her contemporaries, Leeson and Dawson, were the most popular and prominently displayed and distributed [70]. These were the images and ideals that were most prevalent and accessible, adding to their power in reinforcing and solidifying the flawed narratives they represented. The myths of the Noble Savage and terra nullius presented a land ready for colonization, whose inhabitants were already inevitably disappearing [71]. This perspective supports the surrounding ideological and historical context, showcasing photography’s abilities to reflect and contribute to disseminating false ideals.
Endnotes
Rachel Alpha Johnston Hurst, “Colonial Encounters at the Turn of the Twentieth Century: “Unsettling” the Personal Photograph Albums of Andrew Onderdonk and Benjamin Leeson,” Journal of Canadian Studies, vol. 49, no. 2 (Spring 2015), p. 228.
Petra Rigby Watson, “Hannah Maynard’s Multiple Exposures,” History of Photography, vol. 20, no. 2 (1996), p. 155.
More research is required to assess how Maynard was able to run a business while caring for her children; Jennifer Salahub, “Hannah Maynard: Crafting Professional Identity,” Rethinking Professionalism, eds. Kristina Huneault and Janice Anderson (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2012), p. 140.
Cathy Converse, Mainstays: Women Who Shaped B.C, (Markham, Ontario: Fitzhenry and Whiteside, 2000), p. 66.
Converse, Mainstays, p. 64.
“Editorial Chit Chat,” The St. Louis Practical Photographer, 9 Sept ,1879.
“A Woman Photographer,” The Weekly Pacific Tribune (Seattle), 29 May, 1878.
Converse, Mainstays, p. 68.
Alan Thomas, “Photography of the Indian: Concept and Practice on the Northwest Coast,” BC Studies, no. 52 (Winter 1981-82), p. 65.
Gillian Poulter, Becoming Native in a Foreign Land: Sport, Visual Culture, & Identity in Montreal, 1840-85, (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2009), p. 89.
Poulter, Becoming Native, p. 89.
Poulter, Becoming Native, p. 90.
Carol Williams, “Beyond Illustration: Illuminations of the Photographic ‘Frontier,’” JOW, vol. 46, no. 2 (Spring 2007), p. 30.
Margaret B. Blackman, “Studio Indians: Cartes de Visite of Native People in British Columbia, 1862-1872,” Archivaria, no. 21 (Winter 1985-86), p. 68.
This amount is only a fraction of the cartes-de-visite photographs taken at this period; Blackman, “Studio Indians.”, p. 68.
Blackman, “Studio Indians.”, p. 71.
Blackman, “Studio Indians.”, p. 68.
Keri J. Cronin, “Photographic Memory: Image, Identity and the ‘Imaginary Indian’ in Three Recent Canadian Exhibitions,” Essays on Canadian Writing, no. 80 (Fall 2003), p. 99.
Thomas, “Photography of the Indian,” p. 77.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 227.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 229.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 227.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 229.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 227.
Converse, Mainstays, p. 68.
Thomas, “Photography of the Indian,” p. 65.
Williams, “Beyond Illustration”, p. 30.
Williams, “Beyond Illustration”, p. 30.
Margaret B. Blackman, “‘Copying People’: Northwest Coast Native Response to Early Photography,” BC Studies, no. 52 (Winter 1981-82), p. 88.
Margaret B. Blackman, “The Northern and Kaigani Haida: A Photographic Ethnography,” (Ohio: PhD Education, Ohio State University, 1973), p. 123.
Blackman, “The Northern and Kaigani Haida,” p. 123.
Blackman, “Studio Indians.”, p. 69.
Thomas, “Photography of the Indian,” p. 74.
Blackman, “Studio Indians.”, p. 69.
Poulter, Becoming Native, p. 89.
Blackman, “‘Copying People’,”, p. 88.
The Haida are one Indigenous tribe of British Columbia; Blackman, “‘Copying People’,”, p. 88.
Poulter, Becoming Native, p. 58.
Poulter, Becoming Native, p. 58.
Gillian Poulter, “Embodying Nation: Indigenous Sports in Montreal, 1860-1885,” Contesting Bodies and Nation in Canadian History, eds. Patrizia Gentile and Jane Nicholas (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2013), p. 76.
Poulter, “Embodying Nation,”, p. 76.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 229.
Williams, “Economic Necessity,” p. 35.
James William Grek Martin, “Making Settler Space: George Dawson, the Geological Survey of Canada and the Colonization of the Canadian West in the Late 19th Century,” (Kingston, Ontario: PhD Education, Queen’s University, 2009), p. 13.
Martin, “Making Settler Space,” p. 3.
Martin, “Making Settler Space,” p. 246.
Cronin, “Photographic Memory,” p. 99.
Blackman, “Studio Indians,” p. 68.
Williams, “Beyond Illustration,”p. 30.
Williams, “Beyond Illustration,” p. 31.
Converse, Mainstays, p. 66.
David Mattison, “Richard Maynard: Photographer of Victoria, B.C.,” History of Photography, vol. 9, no. 2 (1985), p. 121
Mattison, “Richard Maynard,” p. 121.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 240
Jennifer Salahub, “Hannah Maynard: Crafting Professional Identity,” Rethinking Professionalism, eds. Kristina Huneault and Janice Anderson (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2012), p. 252.
Williams, Carol, “Economic Necessity, Political Incentive, and International Entrepreneurialism: The ‘Frontier’ Photography of Hannah Maynard,” The Cultural Work of Photography in Canada, eds. Carol Payne and Andrea Kunard (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2011), p. 33.
Mattison, “Richard Maynard,” p. 121.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 241.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 241.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 241.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 233.
Stephen Marquardt, “The Aboriginal Peoples of Canada and their Rights under Canadian Constitutional Law,” Law and Politics in Africa, Asia and Latin America, vol. 22, no. 3 (1989), p. 253.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 233.
Morgan F. Bell, “Some Thought on ‘Taking’ Pictures: Imaging ‘Indians’ and the Counter-Narratives of Visual Sovereignty,” Great Plains Quarterly, vol 31, no. 3 (Spring 2011), p. 95.
Very little secondary scholarship has been found on Haldane, but more research should be done to shed light on the conditions of his training and work, and how he was able to attain and maintain his own studio; Bell, “Some Thought,” p. 95.
Bell, “Some Thought,” p. 96.
Bell, “Some Thought,” p. 96.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 241.
Bell, “Some Thought,” p. 95.
Blackman, “Studio Indians,” p. 69.
Hurst, “Colonial Encounters,” p. 241