Around 1905 a photographer in his twenties named Hugo Brehme (1882-1954) arrived in Mexico to photograph this fascinating and complex country.  He had studied photography in Germany and brought with him a pictorialist’s eye and complete command of his expensive equipment. He could not have foreseen that he would live in Mexico for almost all of his life and become a Mexican citizen shortly before his death in 1954. He could not have known that he would become a major influence on generations of Mexican photographers, beginning with Manuel Alvarez Bravo.  Nor could he have possibly dreamed that his work would become known all over the world primarily through the thousands of small photographs he printed as postcards during his long career. One hundred years ago, the international public had an insatiable curiosity about a world that was expressed in postcard images.  Millions of postcards were exchanged, collected and pasted into albums by less adventurous homebodies.   Photographers fanned the globe, including Mexico, to fill the demand in markets abroad.  Most of them brought with them preconceptions and prejudices from their homelands, took the photographs they wanted and left.  But some stayed, lured by market opportunities within Mexico.

Photographers and publishers with non-Spanish surnames dominated the postcard market during the first two decades of the 20th century.  Most were based in Mexico City, including Bauer, Blake & Fiske, Bollbrügge, Briquet, Cox, Granat, Heidecke, Kahlo, Latapi & Bert, Linder, Miret, Müller, Ruhland & Ahlschier, Scott, Suter, Waite and Webster.  Other foreigners dominated several smaller local markets: Culver, along with Shaadi & Jirash, in Aguascalientes; Schneider in Chihuahua; Kaiser in Guadalajara and San Luis Potosi; Gossmann in Saltillo; Andresen in Uruapan, and Neubert in Zacatecas.  Companies in the United States published untold numbers of Mexican postcards, many of which were printed in Germany, Switzerland and Austria.  Some were produced by photo-mechanical methods in black and white, but most were colorized. Few of these early cards were real photos.

World War I and Hugo Brehme had a part in changing all that.  With the war, postcards no longer were printed in Europe and shipped for sale in North America.  And with his handsomely composed images of Mexico printed in black and white and sepia tones, Hugo Brehme effectively steered the public’s taste away from commercially printed, colorized postcards.  Until mid-century, Brehme and a legion of other Mexican photographers produced countless numbers of postcards that left a documentary record of Mexico’s rural and urban life

Leaving old debates aside about whether photography is an art, Brehme considered himself an artist.  As early as 1912, Brehme established a studio at 1a. San Juan de Letran No. 3 in Mexico City, and the earliest postcards bear this address.   In 1920 he established a studio at Avenida Cinco de Mayo No. 27 and called it “Fotografia Artistica Hugo Brehme”.  It was in this studio that Manuel Alvarez Bravo worked and learned thefundamentals of photography, including the making of postcards that sustained Brehme’s studio financially.  Even later postcards reflect a changeof address to Avenida Madero.

Unusual for a gifted artist, Brehme’s business affairs were well run.  Brehme is credited, incidentally, with introducing the photographic Christmas card to Mexico.  The cards sold to collectors, tourists and residents alike helped keep his business afloat.  His photographs and display ads in influential tourist guides and magazines, including those by Bernice Goodspeed, Frances Toor and Manuel Toussaint, advertised full photographic services, including film, cameras, and all photographic materials.  Brehme offered tourists a specialty in Leica cameras, enlargements and developing work.  Mail orders received “immediate and careful attention.”

Hugo Brehme is the only photographer recommended in the 1927 edition of Terry’s Guide to Mexico.  Terry states that Brehme had “the largest, most complete and most beautiful collection of artistic photographs (view, types, churches, etc.) in Mexico.  Many of them are unique, unlike the ordinary views.”  Terry pronounced Brehme’s postcards “the best collection in Mexico at the most reasonable prices.”

The postcards are all standard size 3-1/2” by 5-1/2”.  For every three postcards that were printed horizontally, one was printed in vertcal format.  Negatives were printed on a variety of papers with a full range of tones and finishes that gave his postcards richness and depth. Some of his larger matted photographs were artfully tinted by hand and occasionally signed on the back, "Illuminado por F. Schlichting." Apparently postcards, however, were never hand-tinted.  No example of a tinted postcard has yet been found.

Not all of the postcards are real photos; at least three series of cards were reproduced by photo-mechanical methods.  The two older sets dating from the 1920s were printed in brown or black on an acid paper that is now deteriorating.  Tearing and edge chipping explain why so few of these fragile cards exist today.

Some of the surviving cards have perforations on one side, indicating that they were published as booklets.  Because many of these cards reproduced images of monuments and architecture that appear in Mexico Pintoresco, published by Brehme in 1923, the booklets were probably sold in conjunction with the book.  A later series dating from the 1930s was printed in red-brown tones on more lasting paper stock. Brehme’s name and copyright warning appear in blue on the back.  Image #1735 Ixtaccihuatl in larger format was beautifully hand-tinted,matted, and signed by Brehme in pencil, but the same image also appears on a simple postcard in red-brown tones:

The series in red-brown includes images that appear in the Brehme’s first book as well as the second, Picturesque Mexico, printed with copper plates in Germany in 1925.  The series cards, however, were not limited to reproductions from the books; many, such as the Tepozotlan and Ixtaccihuatl images seen above, were never published in book form.

About 90 percent of Brehme’s cards were real photos, called RPPC's by collectors. Brehme’s use of particular photographic papers, together with the type of backstamp he used over the years, help collectors date the cards.  Cancellations are helpful but not absolute determiners of a postcard’s age.  A cancellation, if readable, can date a postcard, but an older postcard can be mailed long after it was made.  Age is determined by evaluating several factors.

The name of the photographic paper manufacturer is often printed in the box where a stamp is placed.  When Brehme’s address at Av.Cinco de Mayo No. 27 is printed on ARTURA paper, for example, the collector knows that the card dates from between 1920 and 1928.  Brehme began using Gevaert and Kodak Velvet Green papers in the late 1920s; other photographic papers used by Brehme in the 1930s were Agfa and KLTD, along with papers with no maker identified.

A postcard’s date also can be pinpointed if the backstamp includes an address at Av. Madero No. 1, where Brehme’s studio was located from 1928–1930.  Collectors have not yet found a backstamp that reflects the studio’s next address.  When the studio moved to Av. Madero No. 8, Brehme continued to mark his cards with the more permanent post office box and telephone numbers, but he must have decided to leave off the exact street address. In the 1940s and 50s, the letters DOPS or EKC appear in the stamp box, sometimes accompanied by the words “Kodak Mexicana, Ltd.” printed on the left side.  In the 1940s, the name BREHME began appearing on the front of the cards.  The “youngest” documented postcard, #4981, was postmarked in 1951 and pictures Puebla’s “El Alfenique”:

Prime tourist destinations dominate Brehme’s subject matter.  As Mexico opened up for development and tourist travel, Brehme’s lenses tracked the railroads.  When highways were cut through the mountains, Brehme documented the motels that sprang up alongside them. Images of Mexico City and environs account for one-fourth of all postcards he produced.   Pico de Orizaba, Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl are the second most commonly found Brehme cards.  Pyramids, principally Teotihuacan, closely follow the volcanoes.  “Mexican Types,” which were really portraits of persons throughout Mexico, are the fourth most popular ranking.  Brehme apparently marketed about equal numbers of Cuernavaca and Taxco views, followed by Puebla, which had about half the pictures of each of the preceding two towns.   He made only small numbers of postcards of locations scattered throughout the rest of the country.  Brehme apparently didn’t venture with his camera near the border with the United States.  No Brehme photos of border towns have been found.  Brehme’s books include only a few shots of Chihuahua and Monterrey, apparently the farthest north he photographed.

Collectors in the United States dominate the postcard hobby.  The high quality of Mexican cards in general is unrecognized among collectors today.  With few exceptions in the real photo market, the work of Hugo Brehme is presently undervalued.  Ironically, Brehme has been “lost” among thousands of his own images because of the anonymity inherent in the postcard medium and the fact that his work often has been mistakenly credited to others.  Many of the most memorable photographs taken during the Mexican Revolution and previously credited to Casasola were the work of Hugo Brehme.  Apparently, no Brehme/Casasola images appeared as vintage postcards.  The images, however, have been reproduced on modern cards and are easily recognized as new.

Given his experience with Casasola and the ubiquitous nature of postcards -- their inherent sense of being in the public domain -- Brehme had good reason to place copyright notices on most of his prints before they left his studio.  Nonetheless, his work appeared unaccredited in the large format volume Mexican Architecture, published in New York in 1926 by William Helburn.   Although the title page reads "Photographs and text by Atlee B. Ayres", at least 31 photographs and postcards published were really the work of Hugo Brehme. Despite almost all of Brehme’s original photographs being clearly marked "Es Propiedad - Copyright", the message was ignored.  Other photographers whose work was appropriated without credit in the Ayres book include Antonio Garduño, J. A. Mullins, the Rochester agency, and Charles B. Waite.

No doubt there are many other instances of Brehme’s original images having been attributed incorrectly to others, or with no acknowledgement that Hugo Brehme was the photographer.   Postcards are easily purchased and used for the buyer’s own purposes.

Brehme’s postcards were ideally suited for making “Maximum Cards,” in which the picture on the stamp bears strong resemblance to the picture on the postcard.  Considered as novelties or specialties, maximum cards are standard postcards that have been enhanced by stamp collectors who traded with each other worldwide.   The hobby was wildly popular in Europe, especially France.  The collector “maximized” the stamps by his unique presentation of the stamp to fellow collectors.  The collector’s challenge was to place a stamp on the face of a postcard that best illustrated what was depicted on the stamp, and then seek the best postmark and other add-ons to enrich the card.

Maximum cards, particularly those that were canceled on the first day of the stamp’s issue, are a fruitful area to observe that several Mexican stamps might have been derived from postcards.  If the subject matter were less common than such popular tourist icons as the volcanoes and cathedrals, we would have a compelling argument that the design of the stamp had its source in the postcard.  The stamp showing a Taxco street scene (Scott #751) has been maximized on a postcard (Brehme’s #2157) and canceled in Taxco on November 6,1939.  This example presents convincing evidence that Brehme’s photograph most likely was the design source for the stamp:

Dr. Jose Buil Belenguer of Papantla, Veracruz, was a collector who maximized to perfection not only the Taxco stamp but also an earlier stamp on a Brehme postcard.  Witness the lengths this dedicated collector went to transform the photograph published in Picturesque Mexico (1925).  Dr. Buil prepared and perhaps personally delivered Brehme’s real photo postcard for special postmarking in the Teotihuacan postoffice on 1 December 1934, the first day of the stamp’s issue:

The postal employee must have been closely supervised as he canceled the stamp by hand.  The postmark obliterates neither the stamp nor theimage on the postcard.  Because the stamp (Scott #A66) was an airmail one, Dr. Buil further maximized the card by adding a “Correo Aereo” strip in the dark space above the number and title (#866 Teotihuacan, Templo de Quetzalcoatl).  The finished product is a harmonious whole, balancedand symmetrical, providing a context and meaning for the stamp.

Maximum cards are fascinating because they serve as a multicultural bridge between the two most popular hobbies of their day – stamp and postcard collecting – and as a medium for a collector to distinguish himself among millions of others.

Apparently, collectors never actually mailed their maximum cards, although they are all artfully postmarked.  These are items likely to be well protected in an envelope when mailed to another collector.  In fact, relatively few postcards in Brehme collections were ever mailed, indicating that his postcards were primarily regarded as photographs that should be preserved.

A collector can find quirky and delightful oddities by studying Brehme’s postcards, especially compared with his published photographs.  For example, #2931 Acueducto de los Remedios, here shown as a maximum card, was printed as a postcard but not published in a book.  Close viewing reveals a small solitary man standing precariously at the top of the tall water tower:

Here is another and a bit more bizarre example:

A passing glance at this variant version of the #866 Teotihuacan card, leads the observer to say that the only difference between the same postcard shown previously was in the printing, this time in black and white instead of sepia.  But easily overlooked is a man sitting on one of theledges!  The man is dressed meticulously in a black suit, tie and hat. With the figure of a dapper European placed in juxtaposition to the head ofthe plumed serpent, the viewer has a better sense of the massive size of the carvings.  The viewer also is reminded of the amazing feat accomplished by the sophisticated culture that constructed the pyramid.

This brings us to Brehme’s treatment of the human figure throughout his published work.  Brehme usually placed human subjects at a distance and seldom shot close-ups.  When people appear in scenes, they are often treated as props, deliberately posed to achieve balance inthe composition or to give a sense of size or perspective.   The photographer’s manipulation of his human subjects is evident in a series of at least three different shots taken at Teotihuacan.  The series is important because it offers us insight into how Brehme set up his shots, his method of composing the elements of a scene, and the large differences even slight changes can produce in the making of the original negative and in its printing.

The first example (#219 Teotihuacan Piramide) is the most well known because it is included in Picturesque Mexico (1925) and again in Pueblos y Paisajes de Mexico (1992).  The postcard shows a small boy standing near a giant cactus that dominates a dark and foreboding scene.  The boy is looking to his right and not at the pyramid, which appears small in the distance.  In the second vertical postcard (#220Piramide del Sol, Teotihuacan) the boy is seated and although he is looking directly at the camera, his face is hidden in shadow.   In thissecond card, Brehme has changed the perspective to make the cactus appear smaller and the pyramid larger.  In the third postcard, this time in horizontal format, the huge pyramid looms in front of the tiny boy, who is sitting under the cactus with his back to the camera.  In all three, the boy has been positioned by the photographer and is no more than a mere prop.  Neither Brehme nor the viewer is involved with the boy as a person.

Brehme rarely shows that he is emotionally involved with persons he has photographed.  When he does, the effect is striking and reveals the empathy Brehme must have felt for the Mexican people, particularly those who labored hard to make their living.

In #5825 Tortillera, Brehme kept a respectful distance while he captured the little girl looking up to her mother.  Although the tortilla maker and her daughter are not touching, Brehme portrays the bond between them as they sit surrounded by all the ingredients and cooking implements the mother needs to prepare the food she is selling.

Best known for his scenic landscapes and architectural photographs, it is in his much less common portraits that show the less recognized side of Hugo Brehme.

Brehme’s portraits can be expressive and full of life. The postcard titled #6826 Nativos de Atoyac, Veracruz, for example, is a warm and intimate portrayal of a young woman and the child she is holding.  The chubby cigarette seller dressed in a jaunty charro outfit delights the viewer as he tips his hat and smiles in the sunshine.

Brehme himself had a son, Arno, who was born in 1914 in Mexico and grew up in the photography business.  Arno’s black and white photographs of the eruption of Paricutin in 1943 were published under the Mexicanized name of Armando Brehme.  Unlike his father, Arno made the transition to color film, which was introduced in the early 1940s.   It is said that the fruit seldom falls far from the tree.  The similarities between the subject matter and composition of the following two photographs attest to the adage.  The first market scene, #6066Amecameca, is signed BREHME (the father) in the front corner.  The color photograph of the market in Tlacolula, Oaxaca, is credited to Arno Brehme on the back of the postcard published by Figueroa, S.A., in Oaxaca:

Known examples of the Oaxaca market were postmarked between 1969 and 1972.  Only two other views by Arno have been found.  Picturing the ruins of Monte Alban, the postcards also were published by Figueroa in color.

The advent of color postcards marked the end of Hugo Brehme’s era.   Brehme died in 1954 and Arno apparently abandoned his father’s postcard business.  After dominating the market for some 30 years, fewer and fewer black and white postcards were produced in the second half of the 20th century.  Instead, Arno successfully expand into commercial (advertising) photography.  According to his son Dennis, Arno owned the  largest photographic studio in Mexico and one of the largest in Latin America. 

The earlier black and white postcards are scattered worldwide.  By preserving them in collections, we see into the Mexico that Brehme saw behind his camera. Top