During my art studies a long time ago, collage was taught as an art form springing out of the imagination of artists such as Braque and Picasso in the early 20^th century. No one then thought to look at the real history of collage (from the French coller to glue) which reaches back into antiquity to China around 200 BC, after the invention of paper. Eventually the format of gluing objects or images to paper spread to Japan, where in the 10^th Century AD poet/calligraphers began to glue their poems to various surfaces. Just how collage came to the West is not certain, but in the 13^th century this technique found its way to medieval Europe, and among other objects gold leaf panels began to be applied in various ways to objects in Gothic cathedrals, also jewels onto icons and illuminated books.

Suffice it to say, those who see Braque and Picasso as the fathers of collage have left out a long list of different kinds of collage. Among those ignored by what has been taught as a male art form are a slew of creative Victorian women. Mostly of the upper classes and mostly British, these women created a wonderful array of photocollages that contained whimsy and satire as well as wry commentary on staged family scenes painted by illustrious male artists. These women often took a sly look at their own strata of society without being cruel, yet sharp enough to make a point.

That is why one has to applaud Elizabeth Siegel, the associate curator of photography at the Art Institute of Chicago, along with several of her female colleagues, for creating this gem of an exhibition, Playing with Pictures. Siegel also produced two catalogs to go with this show that are worth looking at. The AGO is the third North American institution to feature the show, where it will run until September 5. I am glad I took the time to experience this exhibit of often exquisite collages.

Somehow it aroused memories of my childhood. There had been a heavy-paged, sepia-colored photo album among my mother's family treasure. At least I used to think of it as a photo album. Later I learned that these had been cartes de visite (visiting cards), collected either by my maternal grandmother or great-grandmother. Sadly, they have not survived to today. Such visiting cards with photographic images are an integral part of the history of photocollage.

Collectors of visiting cards were said to suffer from cardomenia. The cards were as important to the collectors of the past as baseball or hockey cards are to today's. Their possessors even traded them with friends and other family members, just as baseball and hockey cards are traded now. Only, there was no price put on the visiting cards other than their possession. These mass-produced, thin photo cards measured 2 1/2" x 4" when mounted on cardboard. The personal images featured on them were just the right size for the use as cutouts to be pasted on a variety of fabulous images such as drawings, watercolors, sketches, on fans, and even on playing cards where they replaced the faces of the Joker, King, and Queen.

There is a cabinet in this exhibit that contains visiting cards from France (where they originated), Britain, the USA and Canada. In addition, the show contains full albums in cases, and virtual albums on computer monitors.

I have always rejected the idea of art being labeled feminine or masculine. If it is art, it is art. Some of it may be more gentle or more decorative, others harder or strident and more challenging, but social commentary can be hidden in all of them. Do we call Beardsley a feminine illustrator—or any of those who worked in the Art Nouveau style—because of his decorative designs, often hiding darker intentions? What about Monet and his flower paintings? I dare say not. But, because women in bygone days were, as a rule, not seen as capable of creating great art, their work was relegated to the sidelines of mere leisure activity.

Playing with Pictures features mostly British women, although one Frenchwoman and one Englishman are included. Interestingly, research into photocollage lists only two males, who apparently indulged in this art form, and no women. They are Danish writer and poet Hans Christian Andersen, and the German painter and poet Carl Spitzweg. Of course, there must have been others, and they must have been seen in one form or another by Picasso and Braque. Besides, since at the start of their careers as painters the mania for Japanese and other oriental art was in full swing, they may well have come across collage from abroad.

As for this exhibit, some of its collages might have been influenced by Andersen's tales, such as Thumbelina. One certainly is reminded of this fairytale when viewing the depiction by the Pleydell sisters' image of babies on toadstools and frogs.

Butterflies can be symbolic of many things. One of the panels taken from the album of French photocollagist Marie-Blanche-Hennelle Fournier (1831-1906) shows an image of a colorful butterfly. The eye spots on the wings have been replaced with the images of four gentlemen. Were these men perhaps part of the international diplomatic corps whom she might have met while abroad with her diplomat husband? Did they seem flighty, or transitory beings to her? It is certainly unusual to depict men as butterflies.

The one male in the exhibit is the former railway magnate Sir Edward Blount, who created collages that have a stained glass effect and at the same time can be a forerunner of op art because they can trick they eye. He filled his creations only with male portraits, unlike the women who used men, women and children in their collages.

The exhibit contains an album by Alexandra, Princess of Wales, who would eventually become Queen Alexandra after her husband, Albert Edward ascended to the throne as Edward VII. It comes from the Royal Collection of Queen Elizabeth II. Alexandra's creations are remarkable in her prowess at watercolor designs to which she added family images in various idyllic vignettes. She ignored that her husband had a roving eye and many mistresses throughout their married life.

Interestingly, there is a collage by Mary Georgiana Caroline, Lady Filmer (1838-1903) that includes the Prince of Wales. It is not clear whether the relationship this lady had with the prince was merely a flirtation or a far more amorous one. After all, it was not uncommon for ladies in the mid-1800s to have affairs with influential men with the full knowledge of their husbands. This was done discreetly to advance the careers of their r husbands. The Victorians were not as "Victorian" as we are generally made to believe.

Also included in this show are albums and individual works by the Pleydell-Bouverie sisters, pages from Constance Sackville-West's album (it may actually have been completed by her younger sister Amy Cochrane Baillie), and Victoria Alexandria Anderson-Pelham, Countess of Yarmouth, to mention just some.

The latter's Mixed Pickles from the Westmorland Album certainly has its delicious bite, while other collages by these women have an affinity to the out-of-scale images from Alice in Wonderland, which would have been a popular book at the time of these creations. As such they might be viewed as forerunners of fabulist art.

Today, of course, we frequently create collages by using our photo imaging software on computers. What these women created by hand and imagination, and with painstaking effort, is now relatively easily done in a wide variety of ways. Few now employ that bottle of glue and paper knife, which Lady Filmer included on her desk, in the same collage in which the Prince of Wales takes center stage.

The attitude formerly displayed toward  the photocollages of these upper class ladies reminds me of a book I recently read, Curiosity by Joan Thomas. It is a re-imagining of the life of Mary Anning. She was a paleontologist, who had very specific theories about evolution decades before Darwin came on the scene. She was never given credit for her finds of prehistoric animal fossils and her ideas during her lifetime. These fossils were taken by male members of the Royal Academy of Science, who received the credit due this woman.