Then & Now
A collection of photos from Danish St. Croix, juxtaposed to modern day recreations
Frederiksted Anglican Church
Frederiksted Customs House
Little La Grange (Lawaetz Museum)
Frederiksted Library
Christiansted Government House
Frederiksted Hospital
Diamond Ketura Sugar Windmill
Frederiksted Cargo Crane
Background of the Project
Many years ago, I was given a set of photographs taken around 1911, purportedly by the wife of the Danish police chief stationed on St. Croix. She had recently taken up the new art of photography, then a remarkable hobby.
The glass plate process had been invented in the 1850s but did not become widely used until the 1870s. The cameras of that era were largely constructed of wood, fitted with bellows to adjust focus, and equipped with a lens assembly that could be tilted and shifted—moved up, down, or sideways—to control perspective. This “tilt and shift” technique allowed the photographer to correct or exaggerate perspective distortion, such as the “keystoning” that makes tall buildings appear to lean backward. The photographer of these images understood and used this ability with exceptional skill.
In modern times, similar effects can be achieved using specialized tilt-shift lenses, or more commonly, through digital post-processing with software like Photoshop. But in 1911, all adjustments were done in the camera, not after the fact—making the precision of these early photographs all the more impressive.
When I set out to recreate these scenes for a “Then and Now” project, the greatest challenge was simply finding the exact spot where the original photographer once stood. For example, the Frederiksted Hospital image had been taken from the beach, which has since been filled and elevated; even with my camera on the ground, I was still far above the original vantage point. To match the view of the Frederiksted Library, I had to set my tripod in the middle of the road. And for the Anglican Church, a building now occupies the spot where the photographer once stood.
Despite the obstacles, the project was immensely rewarding—a dialogue between past and present, and a reminder of how much both the island and photography itself have changed.
