Godowsky and Mannes, that is. A couple of musicians. Who also happened to invent Kodachrome.
Which renders its last impossible color today in Kansas, at the last plant to develop those crazy saturated colors.
Sometimes I think it was the impossibility of the colors that both underscored and made palatable the shock that my grandparents' youth actually transpired in color.
I know that it was Kodachrome that made the Pepto-Bismol pink jello stuff featured in the Junket advertisement (full color!) in my mother's copy of Dr. Spock look so otherworldly good. I could spend an hour imagining myself eating it...and did so, often. What flavor COULD that pink be, after all? Early musings, I suppose.
Not just the colors, but the blacks and the browns, which are of course a color, but...again, hyperreality. So clearly not sepia tones. A blackness that wasn't an absence, but something that could swallow you up.
I just found this out this morning. Polaroid, I knew in advance. I didn't care so much...Polaroid was my uncle's camera, for gadgeters. With a most memorable smell when you wiped the squeegee across the prints that came out the first generation of those cameras/that film. Polaroid was a good film to highlight the fleetingness of memory, always needing protection, always doomed to fade no matter what.
Kodachrome, though...Kodachrome made memory more than it could be. Or so it seemed. Now that I am older, I sometimes wonder if what Kodachrome did was capture a detail so full, I had trouble accepting how real it was.
Not realizing that even that intense amount of detail was not capable of rendering the full truth.
Life is beautiful. Reproductions try.
They took my Kodachrome away.
It was a heckuva thing to find out on New Year's Eve eve. But I do have some prints. And my memories.
The Irish Times
The New York Times
a Kodachrome documentary is in the works, says the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle
other food on Kodachrome at CHOW, "The Last Kodachrome Christmas"