Tibet's Earliest Color Photographs: Carl Simon's Rediscovered Treasure

More than sixty years after falling into dormancy, a treasure accumulated over a lifetime by the European Carl Simon was accidentally discovered in an old warehouse. Like a beautiful object hidden for years in silent darkness, the instant it saw daylight again, its vivid colors—which had receded into mystery along with the time of its concealment—still succeeded in transcending the bounds of time and space, shaking the heart at once.

The precious treasure comprises twenty-three thousand meticulously organized, exquisitely crafted color glass slides and photographs—most hand-colored—stored in two hundred wooden crates, along with two original projectors with accessories and fifteen lenses, and numerous manuscripts once used to narrate slide show presentations. Witnessing such unparalleled beauty would leave people speechless.

In the early 20th century, nearly all of these brilliant, richly colored pictures were made during trips around the globe, as becomes clear upon viewing them.

In this group, one observes a variety of figures: a young woman seated quietly on a stone at the edge of a Nordic forest, her dark red dress patterned with flowers, arms resting loosely at her sides and head bowed in silence, as if absorbed in thoughts of her beloved; Tibetan monks in saffron robes blowing white conch shells amid a ritual; gaunt, sorrowful ascetics from India, wrapped in dhotis and seated cross-legged; and Native Americans adorned with striking feathered headdresses and colorful traditional necklaces.

In the dim glow of dawn, a turquoise lake on the plateau, smooth as glass, cast a strange and unsettling atmosphere, while nearby a volcano silently let loose rose-hued flames, and a snow-dusted peak, rising like a soul unbound, stretched into the heavens amid wraiths of drifting mist. Somewhere close, a wild reindeer—tense and watchful—raised its head toward a faint noise, its glossy black eyes shining with an otherworldly spark. In contrast, a young Moroccan potter was bent over his craft, applying ornate designs to the coarse clay surface by hand with focused care and precision.

It is now impossible to verify which painter hand-colored these pictures or which photographer took them during actual travels and expeditions to Tibet. Among them, a series of hand-colored photographs of Tibet, with an elegant and hazy emotional resonance, is likely among the earliest and most precious color photos we can see today. A small number of the photos still preserve what could be journal fragments, perhaps penned by Carl Simon himself during his own journeys.

Together in a crate they appeared later, forming a sizable legacy that, in silence, speaks of understanding, respect, and admiration for different civilizations in various corners of the world and for the people living within them. Prior to that, they were fortunate to be collected by a man who loved traveling and cherished life.

The hand-painted photographs we encounter may not be produced through natural true color photography, yet they still allow us to perceive a distinctive beauty. Tibet, a land abundant in natural endowments and cultural traditions, holds within it a powerful and vivid interplay of colors—visible in its lofty sacred snow-covered peaks, its vast stretches of green meadows, its ornate Tibetan garments, and its bright artistic creations. For the Tibetan people, color is something they cherish, hold in reverence, and live within; it surrounds, enriches, and sustains them.

More than a mere restoration of Tibet's original natural colors, this beauty reflects the curiosity, longing, and reverence that people in the early 20th century—a time before advanced communication technologies had linked the world—held toward the unknown. They vividly expressed this sentiment through color, using it as a poetic and beautiful language. As a rainbow-hued bridge between civilizations, artistic pursuit and romantic craftsmanship bore their profound spiritual hopes.

Judged by modern aesthetic standards, hand-coloring can look somewhat crude and unsophisticated. Certain hues, with their excessive saturation, may seem almost discordant and strange, while others spread past the edges of their subjects, producing a soft, faded appearance. Yet stepping back into the historical context to view and appreciate the technique reveals that hand-coloring was about far more than simply tinting monochrome images.

Carl Simon, who first worked as an agent for a photography company, established his own business in 1907 to meet the needs of the nascent photography industry. In A Magical Journey Through Color Slides, he made a genuine attempt to give the images a unique texture and emotion by layering and grading colors, creating an idealized beauty within them. This careful craftsmanship bestows on these treasured century-old scenes of Tibet a poetic quality that transcends the physical world, stirring an elegant and hazy emotional resonance in viewers.

Carl Simon's commentary beneath a set of Native American photographs carries a somber, regretful tone: "The traditional attire of Native Americans is worn only on solemn occasions." His company produced cameras, supplied slide projectors on rental, and counted live slide screenings among its key operations. At those events, a hired actor delivered image-specific narration while a small band played background music matched to the presentation.

Viewed from above the Alps, a photograph inspires commentary filled with joy, romance, and poetry: "The beauty of this scenery is beyond words—the wonders of the Alpine world lie fully before the eyes. On clear days, the view stretches endlessly into the distance." As for the Native Americans, the government has set aside reservations for them, yet the land allocated is hardly the finest. Their numbers in the United States now stand at merely 250,000, and they represent the final romantic remnants of national life.

Underfoot, clouds may seethe and surge like an ocean, yet the spectacle stays sublimely magnificent.

Imagining this vivid scene is easy when the band plays and the documentary and literary commentaries are heard: a hundred years ago, on some day, inside a dark space like a movie theater, an audience held their breath, full of curiosity, gazing at the flickering screen as colorful, immersive images appeared before them, like grand dreams rotating and shifting in reality. As for the mountains themselves, those sacred summits, domes, and ridges emerge from the mist like fairy tales, and here one feels closer than anywhere else to the "spirit of the world.

Carl Simon's original intention was exactly that: to use such immersive activities to expand the public's horizons, revealing a colorful and wonderful world far beyond their everyday lives and imagination. By doing so, he hoped to hold their emotions so firmly that they would lose all awareness of time and place. Even after the screening had ended and they stepped out of the hall, they might still experience an emptiness, unable to let go of the magical, vibrant, and enchanting adventure they had just lived through, as though it had been a captivating dream.

Carl Simon’s son kept the slide-show tradition alive after his father’s death. During his lifetime, Simon presented roughly three hundred slide lectures across the country, every one drawing a full house and leaving viewers spellbound with wonder. It was in that same period that he began amassing fine hand-colored glass slides and photographs, and over the following three decades his collection grew to nearly 80,000 images. Although most were eventually lost or dispersed, more than 23,000 remain well preserved today.

Before Kodak officially introduced its Kodachrome color film in 1935, photographers had access only to various experimental color presentation techniques for expressing their creative visions and aesthetic ideals. As a result, hand-colored photographs became extremely popular in the early 20th century. This practice continued until the 1960s, when the growth of film and television eventually brought it to a close.

Even as imaging technology progressed and developed, making such attempts outdated and eventually removing them from the historical scene, the solemn manner in which people then observed and experienced life, together with their treasured attitude of appreciation, still merits profound contemplation. This clever creativity did more than just reveal a richer spectrum of colors; in specific instances it also lent a romantic artistic quality to scenes that were originally plain, giving the photos a magical, dreamlike and imaginative aura.

In ancient myths, one finds a comparable image for how people might approach the world with curiosity and reverence, untouched by the divisions and judgments that knowledge and rigid systems tend to create. Picture a mural seen through the pure, unclouded eyes of a baby. Notice how the play of sunlight across a flower's shadow, the gentle stirring of leaves, and the slow turning of the seasons all reveal time at work—like a master illusionist—transforming the face of everything that lives.

What is termed romanticism is simply the profoundest perception and emotional sensitivity to life, together with the most spontaneous absorption and devotion.

Vivian Maier, a nanny with a brilliantly colorful inner world, remained largely unknown in her lifetime while quietly capturing over a hundred thousand photographs with a camera. She faithfully documented the ordinary yet warmly lived existence of many everyday people, all from her immediate surroundings. The accidental discovery of Carl Simon's lifelong treasure might remind one of her, for to exist is to feel.

A man named Oiva, who appears in the documentary "The Shadow of the Iceberg," spent his life adrift on ships. He quietly committed to film, with a poetic touch, the innocent smiles of children across the globe, the trembling wings of butterflies, the crimson Atlantic sunsets, and the surging waves. To him, these beautiful images were like letters handed over to cloud messengers, carried to the ends of the earth... They are not famous figures but just wanderers passing through the world.

A person’s finite, physical existence is converted into something infinite by the authentic emotion and detail preserved in their images, filled with the rhythm of their hearts and the heat of their blood. Usually, it’s only when these are stumbled upon by chance that their life stories are compressed into just a few boxes of film. Even so, these recordings serve as proof that the individual once walked the Earth, silently bestowing a selfless form of beauty upon it.

Human beings' preciousness may lie in their capacity for keen feeling—experiencing all they have witnessed in their brief lives. The mere decades of life would otherwise be emptiness if no record existed. Yet because of that treasured feeling and the record, everything left behind can escape the limits of time and space, carrying the vitality that person imbued, flowing forever. And whenever it is beheld, it moves people with a deep, inexpressible warmth.