How Anna Atkins, a 19th-century photographer, transformed the way we view science through her pioneering work.

Upon completing the initial section of her book, Photographs of British Algae: Cyanotype Impressions, Anna Atkins signed the introduction with the initials “A.A.” In the nearly 400 hand-printed images that followed, her full name was nowhere to be found. A scholar, studying her work years later, mistakenly believed the initials represented 'anonymous amateur.'

Atkins’s Photographs of British Algae, created between 1843 and 1853, was the first book to be entirely illustrated with photographs and marked the first use of photography in scientific endeavors—cementing Atkins as the first known female photographer. She worked in the cyanotype technique, which she learned directly from its inventor, the renowned astronomer Sir John Herschel, at the very moment of its creation. A passionate botanist, she even collected many of the seaweed specimens herself. Despite her pivotal role in history, little is known about her scientific and artistic thoughts.

“We know she was a reserved individual,” explains Joshua Chuang, co-curator (along with Larry J. Schaaf and Emily Walz) of the exhibition “Blue Prints: The Pioneering Photographs of Anna Atkins,” opening October 19 at the New York Public Library's Stephen A. Schwartzman Building. “Despite dedicating so much time, energy, and resources to creating these photographs, she never sought fame or recognition.”

Born in 1799 in Tonbridge, Kent, England, Anna was the sole child of John George Children, a chemist, mineralogist, and later keeper of zoology at the British Museum. Anna’s mother passed away just a year after her birth. She and her father remained incredibly close, as he, too, had lost his mother in infancy. Through him, Anna was introduced to the prominent scientists and discoveries of the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

In her first artistic endeavor, Anna helped her father by hand-drawing over 200 scientifically precise illustrations for his translation of Jean-Baptiste Lamarck’s Genera of Shells, published in 1823. Her marriage in 1825 to John Pelly Atkins, a wealthy merchant in the West Indies, provided her with the time and independence to pursue her passion for botany. She joined the Royal Botanical Society, collecting seaweeds on her travels to English shores, as well as obtaining specimens from botanical contacts worldwide. By 1835, Children was fervently promoting his daughter’s botanical collection and scientific interests to colleagues, including William Hooker, director of the Royal Botanic Gardens at Kew; William Henry Fox Talbot, inventor of negative-positive photography; and Sir John Herschel, England's most renowned scientist and also a neighbor of Children’s.

Herschel published a paper in the Royal Society’s Philosophical Transactions in 1842 detailing his cyanotype process. This technique involved two iron-based chemicals, ferric ammonium citrate and potassium ferricyanide, which were applied to paper and left in the dark to dry. Afterward, a photo negative or flat object to be photographed was placed on top and exposed to sunlight for several minutes. The paper was then rinsed with plain water. The reaction between the iron compounds and water produced Prussian blue pigment, creating a vivid blue permanent print with the object remaining the same color as the original paper.

Herschel taught Atkins his formula around 1842, and she began experimenting with the process shortly after. According to Chuang, Atkins had an edge over other photographers. “There were DIY guides, almost like cookbooks, for early photographers on how to mix the chemicals. But every single one of these guides misinterpreted the cyanotype recipe, so no one could replicate it correctly. But because Atkins learned directly from the inventor, she was able to master it,” he says.

As Talbot and Herschel advanced their photographic techniques, William Harvey, one of England’s leading botanists, published A Manual of the British Marine Algae—but without any illustrations. “He had only descriptions to differentiate one species from another, aside from their names—how they looked, felt, and their texture,” Chuang explains. “Atkins must have thought, ‘That’s crazy, we now have photography—why not use that to illustrate it?’”

At the time, books showcasing botanical specimens were either hand-drawn or displayed actual specimens that had been dried, pressed, and glued to the pages. The first method was labor-intensive and costly, while the second often yielded temporary results. “The cyanotype process would have immediately appealed to Atkins,” writes Schaaf in his 1979 paper, “The First Photographically Printed and Illustrated Book.”

She saw the power of photography to enhance scientific illustration, especially in detail. “The difficulty of making accurate drawings of objects so minute as many of the Algae and Confervae has induced me to avail myself of Sir John Herschel’s beautiful process of cyanotype to obtain impressions of the plants themselves,” Atkins explained in the introduction to Photographs of British Algae.

Atkins prepared her own photosensitive paper, mixing the necessary chemicals. Some of the plates show small holes at the corners, indicating that she likely pinned each plate to a board while drying. Her lifelong friend and collaborator, Anne Dixon, shared Atkins’s enthusiasm for both collecting and photography, possibly assisting in the creation of several later plates in Photographs of British Algae.

The work was released in parts, starting in October 1843. Over a span of 10 years, Atkins consistently distributed new plates, as well as replacement ones, an index, title pages, and handwritten assembly instructions to a select group of friends, botanical experts, and scientific institutions. Atkins aimed to complete the final three-volume set with 14 pages of text and 389 plates, each approximately 8 by 10 inches. Each recipient was tasked with adding the new plates and binding them, which accounts for the differing stages of completion in the few surviving copies of Photographs of British Algae.

The book had little influence on the scientific community, however. William Harvey never references Atkins in later editions of his book, despite Atkins drawing inspiration from it. “They must have known each other or at least heard of each other,” Chuang says. “Harvey knew Herschel, and Herschel would certainly have mentioned this project to him. Yet Harvey never acknowledged it.” A critic commended the book’s use of cyanotype to capture delicate specimens, but soon after, Photographs of British Algae and its anonymous author faded into obscurity.

Atkins continued her cyanotype experiments, creating prints of lace, feathers, ferns, and other plant specimens. However, in the 1850s, botanists began adopting a more commercially practical technique known as nature printing, where specimens were pressed into soft metal sheets. These sheets could be inked and then pressed onto paper, revealing intricate textures that were previously invisible.

It wasn’t until 1889—18 years after Atkins’s death—that scholar William Lang, in a lecture on the cyanotype process at the Philosophical Society of Glasgow, recognized Anna Atkins as the author of Photographs of British Algae.

“The fact that her story and her work have endured is nothing short of miraculous,” Chuang remarks. In the New York Public Library’s exhibition, a copy of Photographs of British Algae—which Atkins personally inscribed and gave to Herschel—will be on display, alongside new insights into her life and the importance of her contributions.

“The book she created is not only handmade, but each copy is unique,” Chuang adds. “It’s nearly impossible to determine what constitutes a complete copy. And that reflects the nature of what we know about her life; it’s an ever-evolving story.”

Additional source: Sun Gardens: Victorian Photograms by Anna Atkins