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The Lumiere's Win the Race
Contrary to common perception, the Lumieres were not the first to show moving projected images to a paying audience – that honour, in Europe, belonged to the Skladanowsky Brothers, and to the Lathams in America – however, it was from the Lumieres presentation in the Salon Indien of the Grand Café, in the basement of the Second Empire Grand Hotel at 14 boulevard des Capucines on the 28th December 1895 that the movie industry finally took off. Both the Skladanowskys' and the Lathams' images were indistinct, and their equipment relatively unwieldy. The Lumiere’s Cinematographe was portable, its images clear.
According to French historian Georges Sadoul, Louis Lumiere shot as many as 100 films in the 10 month period between taking out a patent on the 23rd February 1895 and the first public demonstration. Meanwhile, Antoine had been busy searching for a suitable location in which their first show could take place. He considered – and dismissed - the photographic studio he had rented above Georges Melies’ Theatre Robert Houdin, the Musee Grevin waxwork show (possibly because Emile Reynaud’s Pantomimes Lumineuses was still playing there), and the Folies Bergeres. The Lumieres finally settled on the Salon Indien, a basement room decorated in oriental style, agreeing a daily fee of 30fr with the owner, M. Volpini, after he turned down their offer of 20% of the takings – a decision he would surely come to regret.
For the first showing only thirty-three tickets were sold – an inauspicious beginning that would quickly change once word of the Lumiere’s marvellous new spectacle spread. There were also a number of invited quests, among them the directors of the Grevin Wax Museum and of the Folies Bergers, and 34-year-old Gerges Melie, who would soon go on to make trick movies that would astound the early movie-viewing community. The Lumieres had actually borrowed 100 gilt chairs from the café for the showing, so one can imagine the wide empty spaces that greeted them on that first night Surprisingly, not one of the major newspapers attended the screening. Those guests that did turn up were greeted by Clement Maurice, a photographer in the employ of the Lumieres.
At last, the lights were dimmed, and the (small) crowd fell silent in expectation. Georges Melies later recalled:
"The other guests and I found ourselves in front of a small screen, similar to those we use for projections, and after a few minutes, a stationary photograph showing the Place Bellcour in Lyons was projected. A little surprised, I scarcely had time to say to my neighbour: "Have we been brought here to see projections? I've been doing these for ten years." No sooner had I stopped speaking when a horse pulling a cart started to walk towards us followed by other vehicles, then a passerby. In short, all the hustle and bustle of a street. We sat with our mouths open, without speaking, filled with amazement".
A programme of ten films was shown that evening, each approximately 17 metres in length. The arc lamp of the projector was adjusted by Jacques Ducom, and the handle turned by Charles Moisson, manufacturer of the prototype Cinematographe. The model actually used on the night came from the workshop of Jules Carpentier. Amongst the films shown were La Sortie des Usines (Workes Leaving the Factory), The Photographical Congress Arrives at Lyons, Cordelier’s Square in Lyon, Baby’s Dinner, in which Auguste and his wife attempt to feed their baby daughter, The Blacksmith, and The Sea. The two films to make the biggest impact, however, were L’Arroseur Arrose (The Waterer Watered), which was based on an 1880s comic strip, in which a mischievous child treads on a gardener's hose and then, when the gardener peers into its nozzle, releases his foot so that the gardener is sprayed with water. The gardener then chases the boy and gives him a spanking. The second film was Arrivee d’un Train en Gare (The Arrival of a Train at the Station). The film was shot from the end of a railway station platform as the steam train approached at an oblique angle, so that it appears on the right of the screen, and shoots across to the left. As well as displaying Louis Lumiere’s admirable versatility as a cameraman, the film is reputed to have startled early audiences so badly that they leapt from their seats fearing the train was about to run them over.
The end of the Lumiere’s first public show was greeted with wild applause from the audience. Georges Melies, immediately spotting the potential of this new invention, was rebuffed by Antoine when he asked if the Cinematographe was for sale. “The invention is not for sale,” said Antoine, “It would be the ruin of you. It can be exhibited for a while due to its scientific interest, but apart from that the machine has no future.”
With the absence of any major newspapers at the screening, the news of the birth of the movies was announced to the people of France by the smaller papers, La Poste and Progres. Word soon got around, however, and the queues on the second day stretched down the boulevard. Within weeks, the Lumieres were offering 20 shows per day.
"...photography no longer records stillness. It perpetuates the image of movement. The beauty of the invention resides in the novelty and ingenuity of the apparatus. When these gadgets are in the hands of the public, when anyone can photograph the ones who are dear to them, not just in their motionless form, but with movement, action, familiar gestures and the words out of their mouths, then death will no longer be absolute, final."
La Poste, 30th December 1895
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