A groundbreaking exhibition at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery celebrates the extraordinary work of Alfred Buckham, a pioneering aerial photographer whose daredevil approach and innovative techniques revolutionized aviation photography in the early 20th century. The exhibition, titled "Alfred Buckham: Daredevil Photographer," showcases over one hundred gelatin silver prints that demonstrate how Buckham combined audacious aerial photography with groundbreaking darkroom manipulation to create magnificent works of art.
One of the exhibition's centerpiece photographs, simply titled "Edinburgh" from around 1920, perfectly exemplifies Buckham's unique artistic vision. The striking image shows Edinburgh Castle appearing to both grow out of and perch atop its elevated volcanic rock, with Old Town buildings receding into the distance and vanishing into a ring of mist that surrounds Arthur's Seat, the city's other extinct volcanic crag. Above, strips of sky give way to thick clouds, while a solitary biplane soars through the heavens, overseeing the shifting urban panorama below. The lonely flight of the aircraft against such an immense backdrop conveys both serenity and fragility.
What appears to be a simple snapshot of a moment in time is actually a skillfully crafted composite artwork. Buckham employed a technique called combination printing, which involved blending multiple negatives of land, sky, and aircraft to create a single photographic print. This innovative approach allowed him to manipulate his aerial images on the ground, creating artistic compositions that went far beyond conventional photography of the era.
Born in London in 1879, Buckham developed twin passions for photography and flight that would define his career. By 1914, he had established himself as a respected photographer and became a Fellow of the Royal Photographic Society. When World War I broke out, he took to the skies as an aerial reconnaissance photographer for the Royal Navy, where his military records testified to his exceptional flying talent. He was promoted to captain in the Royal Naval Air Service within just one year.
However, aerial photography proved to be an extremely dangerous profession for Buckham, who crashed nine times during his military service. His final crash resulted in a severe throat injury that required a tracheotomy, leaving him dependent on a breathing tube for the rest of his life. After the operation in 1919, he was discharged on a full pension, but the end of his military career did nothing to diminish his passion for photography and flight.
While recovering from surgery, Buckham began experimenting with photo-montages using his extensive collection of photographs. He soon returned to the air with his heavy plate camera, traveling far and wide to capture and later create a series of stunning and stunningly original aerial images. By the time of his death in 1956, he was widely recognized as a trailblazer in the field of aerial photography.
Despite the obvious dangers involved in his work, Buckham maintained a remarkably relaxed and often reckless approach to flying. "It is not easy to tumble out of an aeroplane, unless you really want to," he once said. "On considerably more than a thousand flights I have used a safety belt only once, and then it was thrust upon me. I always stand up to make an exposure and, taking the precaution to tie my right leg to the seat, I am free to move rapidly, and easily, in any desired direction; and loop the loop; and indulge in other such delights, with perfect safety."
Buckham's unconventional method involved standing up and leaning out of an open cockpit with one leg tied to the aircraft's seat with a scarf or rope. He argued that sitting down would result in the negative being spoiled by camera vibrations from the airplane. He did acknowledge, however, that "it is an alarming experience for a beginner to find himself lolling over the side of an aeroplane while the landscape climbs up to the sky, and the horizon loses its horizontality and endeavors to become vertical."
The exhibition provides a vivid sense of Buckham's hair-raising escapades through photographs he took in dramatic weather conditions. He relished being in the heart of storms and feeling the full might of the elements, believing that rain, wind, and shafts of sunlight produced the most opportunities for compelling picture-making. Many of these photographs show aircraft as mere specks against spectacular cloud formations, emphasizing the scale and power of nature.
In "The Storm Centre," a tiny plane appears engulfed by voluminous clouds that resemble the aftermath of a catastrophic explosion. Another equally arresting picture shows a spindly autogyro – the predecessor of the helicopter – looking as if it will barely emerge intact from bursts of billowing cloud. "Flying Boat Over Sea" depicts the titular aircraft precariously poised between a stormy sky and a raging ocean. Throughout the exhibition, visitors see various newfangled forms of aircraft from the 1920s and 1930s navigating threatening banks of clouds, from single-engine monoplanes to two-seater biplanes to the massive R-101 airship.
Buckham's personal notes accompanying some photographs reveal the extreme occupational hazards he regularly faced. He recounts how his eyelashes would freeze together and his hands would become numb when working without goggles and gloves in sub-zero temperatures. While capturing "The Thunderstorm" at 10,000 feet, he was exposed to more than just blinding lightning and deafening thunder. "The aeroplane sometimes fell several hundreds of feet in deep air pockets," he wrote. "Immediately after taking this photograph our machine seemed to be on fire and the pilot and myself experienced an electric shock."
One section of the exhibition focuses on planes in calmer skies gliding over cities and landmarks. Buckham's most famous picture, "The Heart of the Empire" from 1923, presents a captivating shot of a biplane following the curves of the Thames as it snakes through London. The image combines urban and natural elements, with awe-inspiring streaks of sunlight adding a sheen to sections of the silver river. Other notable works include bird's-eye views of Lincoln Cathedral and Windsor Castle.
The Scottish section of the exhibition includes varied landscapes beyond the famous Edinburgh photograph. Buckham twice attempted to photograph industrial Glasgow but was thwarted by the thick smoke that permeated the city, preventing clear shots. Instead, the collection features rolling hills, the golf links of St. Andrews, and the Wallace Monument in Stirling. "Castle Island, Loch Leven (Where Mary, Queen of Scots was Imprisoned)" from around 1920 uses both miniature biplanes in the vast vault of sky and an isolated fortress in a huge expanse of water to reinforce the dramatic scale of the landscape.
Buckham's adventures extended far beyond Britain, as he photographed the Alps and captured a sandstorm over the Great Pyramid of Giza. These international expeditions helped prepare him for the biggest assignment of his career. Capitalizing on what was considered a golden age of travel, the American magazine Fortune commissioned him to create a portfolio of aerial photographs anywhere in America. The result was an epic 1931 tour lasting 15 weeks and covering 19,000 miles.
The Morning Post newspaper also utilized Buckham's talents by assigning him to write about his American travels. The publication serialized his account in three parts over the winter of 1933-34, with the editor praising Buckham's articles as "a record of cheerful pluck in the face of often desperate difficulties." These difficulties become apparent in the exhibition's section on the Americas, which begins with photographs of the newly constructed Empire State Building and the recently completed Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro.
Buckham's most compelling work emerged when he ventured off the beaten path. Exhibition highlights include images of pre-Inca civilization remains in Peru, the barren wilderness of the Chilean desert, and Lake Nicaragua shimmering beneath clouds. Extracts from his articles reveal the fraught circumstances and perilous situations he encountered. "My journey nearly came to an abrupt conclusion over Buenos Aires," he wrote, "for the door of the cabin aeroplane, through the window of which I leaned to photograph, idly swung wide open as I drew back to change a dark slide."
While crossing the Andes at 19,500 feet, Buckham struggled for breath and realized that unconsciousness was inevitable. His attempts to photograph erupting volcanoes in Mexico, Guatemala, and Nicaragua involved long waits for suitable weather conditions followed by treacherous descents through clouds of sulfurous gas into bubbling craters. One of the exhibition's standout images takes viewers up close to the gaping maw of the Mexican volcano Popocatépetl as it emits spouts of smoke and steam.
A final section titled "In the Darkroom" illuminates the technical skill involved in Buckham's composite photography. While combination printing wasn't entirely new, Buckham built on existing techniques and employed bold experimentation to create his own signature style. The exhibition reveals details about his cloud library consisting of over 2,000 negatives and his similar collection of aircraft pictures, showing how he mixed, matched, and merged images of land and sky. He used white chalk or black watercolor paints to soften areas where negatives met or to enhance specific features.
Some critics might accuse Buckham of photographic manipulation or "cheating," as his images consisted of cut, pasted, and doctored components. However, Buckham never attempted to pass his photographs off as single-take shots, viewing his work simply as an elaborate form of editing. The exhibition suggests that his groundbreaking techniques paved the way for modern technologies such as Photoshop and AI, though regardless of historical influence, it's difficult to criticize his approach when considering the stunning end results.
Buckham's photographs represent, at their best, compelling depictions of cloudscapes and human vulnerability in the face of the natural world's volatility. The impressive exhibition celebrates both the audacious lengths he took to capture the perfect picture and the magic he created back on solid ground. Buckham was not merely a magnificent man in a flying machine or a daredevil with a camera – his passport on display in the exhibition reveals his true identity, listing his profession simply as "Artist." The exhibition "Alfred Buckham: Daredevil Photographer" continues at the Scottish National Portrait Gallery in Edinburgh until April 19.
