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Add Texture to GoogleThe intimacy of a Victorian bedroom, circa 1858. A woman, Maria Jackson, stands before her dressing table mirror. In the reflection, she seeks not only to adjust her appearance, but to capture a moment of radical modernity. This small object of glass and chemistry—an ambrotype measuring just 9.4 × 7.9 cm—has just been added to the British national collections, in the process upending the chronology of the photographic self-portrait. Long before the term “selfie” became a global digital phenomenon, this collodion plate bears witness to an intentionality that fascinates historians of the image.
A Chance Discovery at the Heart of Literary History
The fate of this object took a turn in the summer of 2025. While exploring private family archives, descendants unearthed an envelope containing two glass plates. On the yellowed paper, a handwritten note already raised questions about the past: “Mrs. Cam. Self-portrait?” The question referred to Julia Margaret Cameron, a major figure in 19th-century photography. However, research conducted by experts at the Victoria and Albert Museum quickly ruled out this possibility. In 1858, the estimated date the photograph was taken, Cameron had not yet received her first camera—an event that would not occur until 1863.
The subject of the image is actually Maria “Mia” Jackson, née Pattle, Julia Margaret Cameron’s younger sister. Although her name is less well known to the general public than her sister’s, her lineage has gone down in cultural history: Mia Jackson is none other than the grandmother of the writer Virginia Woolf and the painter Vanessa Bell. This discovery thus links a pioneering photographic endeavor to the roots of the Bloomsbury Group’s aesthetic. In the same envelope, a second ambrotype was found, depicting a woman from South Asia whose identity remains, for now, a mystery, adding another layer of enigma to this family collection.
The Staging of an Assisted Self-Portrait
What is striking about this composition is the boldness of the framing. Unlike conventional portraits of the time, in which the camera is carefully kept out of the frame, Maria Jackson chose to place it at the center of the scene. Her gaze is fixed, directed toward her own reflection in a curved dressing table mirror. This mise en abyme is all the more complex because it involves an invisible yet tangible technical collaboration. In the 1850s, photography was a slow and demanding process. Cameras did not have a self-timer or an automatic shutter release. To expose the plate, one had to manually remove the lens cap and then replace it after a precise exposure time.
In the background of the image, a blurred male silhouette can be made out near the camera. This third party, whose identity has not been formally established, served as the camera operator. This is where the subtlety of the attribution made by Dr. Marta Weiss, photography curator at the V&A, in a study published in October 2026 lies. She describes the work as an “assisted self-portrait.” While a third party may have operated the camera, the intention, the choice of the domestic setting, and the decision to include the technical device in the mirror were all Mia Jackson’s. To date, this is the only photograph attributed to this woman, whose role during the session appears to have been far more than that of a mere model.
A Unique Place in the History of Photography
The history of the photographic self-portrait has its famous milestones. As early as 1839, Robert Cornelius immortalized himself outdoors in front of his shop in Philadelphia. In 1845, Charles Nègre experimented with a convex mirror to create multiple reflections. But Mia Jackson’s photograph holds a special place. It is the oldest known example of a self-portrait deliberately taken in front of a household mirror, with the camera itself serving as the central subject of the composition.
Comparable examples did not emerge until much later in the century. One thinks of the portrait of a young woman named Margaret in Tacoma around 1895, or the self-portrait of the painter Henri Evenepoel in 1898. Even the famous experiments by Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia in 1914 took place more than half a century after Maria Jackson’s bold move. By placing the camera in the center of her dressing table mirror, she captured not only her face but the very process of her own self-representation.
Addition to the National Collections
The acquisition of this ambrotype by the Victoria and Albert Museum, under inventory number V&A PH 570-2026, marks an important milestone in the preservation of vernacular photographic heritage. Funding for this acquisition was made possible by the V&A Americas Foundation, thanks to a donation from Michael G. and C. Jane Wilson. Although the purchase price has not been disclosed, the institution considers the object’s historical value to be inestimable.
This unique piece will not remain hidden away in the storage archives for long. The museum has announced that it will be on public display in London in May 2027. This will be an opportunity for visitors to take a close look at this glass plate, which, across the decades, holds up a mirror to our own obsession with self-image. Mia Jackson’s ambrotype reminds us that the desire to capture oneself—through the lens and the reflection—is not an invention of the digital age, but a quest whose roots run deep into the most intimate beginnings of photography.