We perhaps tend to forget that photographs, mere whisps of chemical-coated paper, are material culture, a phrase often associated with more lumpen objects. Yet photographs are solid objects, are material. That description, of course, applies readily to pre-digital photographs. Now that the majority of photography consists of bytes we have to come up with a new definition of 'material' when applied to images, but that is a discussion for another day. In 1948 a camera shutter opened and closed, a series of chemical reactions occurred and a moment in time was preserved. The sun shone, the grass was green, and the blurry focus was on me, asleep, a couple of months old, unaware of all the fuss. For the next couple of decades, photographs are the principal tangible evidence of my existence.