Assignments
Why I Shoot? For Myself Of Course.
June 27, 2011 - 20:50
With the increasing trend in copyright infringement, or just plain theft through the Internet, it’s hard to believe why anyone would try to make a living as a photographer.
Years ago, the profession was fairly straightforward. Someone with an eye, the talent, and the inclination would make a sizable investment in equipment, work as an apprentice for a photographer somewhere, find the connections to get in with the right crowd, and then try to sell their work to a particular market. Wedding and portrait photographers create the most revenue, but the job can be a bit of a bore. In addition, there are fickle clients, deadbeats, and the occasional Bridezilla and family to contend with.
General portrait photographers fare no better. Kids can become unruly or develop an uncooperative attitude. Parents may try to run the shoot, which makes the photographer wonder why the parents didn’t just photograph their kids in the first place. Couples can’t decide which proofs to print. Some customers want the negatives as well as the prints. So much for photographer’s intellectual property rights.
Freelance stock photography may be on its way out as a profession. As the cost of digital equipment decreases while technical quality improves, just about anyone with Photoshop on their PC can be a professional photographer. Those with looser ethical standards may just surf the ‘net and copy whatever image they want to suit their own purposes without a thought about license fees. Unless they are making big money from their ‘take’ they will likely never get caught passing the work of others as their own, especially if they can hide in a foreign country or change the images’s metadata to their liking.
I think that I did it the smart way. I first got a job, and later an education, then finally a career doing something lucrative that I enjoy. Photography is, and always has been, a hobby. I can shoot as often or as little as I choose. I can use whatever equipment is available and experiment with different optics and developers, or try different methods in the darkroom. I don’t have to worry about deadbeats. I don’t care about clients who wouldn’t know a work of art if it fell off the wall and hit them. I can shoot monochrome 35mm film one day and medium format color film the next. I have work hanging in a few small galleries that are happy to do so just to cover a bare wall. I even sell a few.
I have had access to some areas inaccessible to most photographers. I have shot flight operations on ships while I was in the Navy. I have photographed the interiors of churches where I was a member. I choose my own assignments without deadlines or production staff getting in the way. I love my job and the boss is a dream to work for.
Life is good.
Years ago, the profession was fairly straightforward. Someone with an eye, the talent, and the inclination would make a sizable investment in equipment, work as an apprentice for a photographer somewhere, find the connections to get in with the right crowd, and then try to sell their work to a particular market. Wedding and portrait photographers create the most revenue, but the job can be a bit of a bore. In addition, there are fickle clients, deadbeats, and the occasional Bridezilla and family to contend with.
General portrait photographers fare no better. Kids can become unruly or develop an uncooperative attitude. Parents may try to run the shoot, which makes the photographer wonder why the parents didn’t just photograph their kids in the first place. Couples can’t decide which proofs to print. Some customers want the negatives as well as the prints. So much for photographer’s intellectual property rights.
Freelance stock photography may be on its way out as a profession. As the cost of digital equipment decreases while technical quality improves, just about anyone with Photoshop on their PC can be a professional photographer. Those with looser ethical standards may just surf the ‘net and copy whatever image they want to suit their own purposes without a thought about license fees. Unless they are making big money from their ‘take’ they will likely never get caught passing the work of others as their own, especially if they can hide in a foreign country or change the images’s metadata to their liking.
I think that I did it the smart way. I first got a job, and later an education, then finally a career doing something lucrative that I enjoy. Photography is, and always has been, a hobby. I can shoot as often or as little as I choose. I can use whatever equipment is available and experiment with different optics and developers, or try different methods in the darkroom. I don’t have to worry about deadbeats. I don’t care about clients who wouldn’t know a work of art if it fell off the wall and hit them. I can shoot monochrome 35mm film one day and medium format color film the next. I have work hanging in a few small galleries that are happy to do so just to cover a bare wall. I even sell a few.
I have had access to some areas inaccessible to most photographers. I have shot flight operations on ships while I was in the Navy. I have photographed the interiors of churches where I was a member. I choose my own assignments without deadlines or production staff getting in the way. I love my job and the boss is a dream to work for.
Life is good.
Weave
June 11, 2011 - 16:54
The normal world looks so much different up close. The ordinary becomes extraordinary. The Micro-Nikkor 55mm f/3.5 lens helps a photographer get much closer to the subject than a normal lens can manage. This tack-sharp lens is one of my favorites.
I shot this image about two inches from the surface of a large fibrous mooring line holding a large vessel pier-side at the Bremerton Waterfront Marina. What caught my eye was the braided pattern in the cords and how the fibers geometrically interlocked with each other. Using selective focus and a shallow depth of field, the detail in the fibers come out only to soften toward the edges. The contrast and fine grain of the film bring out the texture in the rope that falls into the shadows along the bottom edge. I think of discipline and order holding fast despite the wear that comes from experience in a harsh marine environment. Strength and endurance. Texture and shadow.
I shot this image about two inches from the surface of a large fibrous mooring line holding a large vessel pier-side at the Bremerton Waterfront Marina. What caught my eye was the braided pattern in the cords and how the fibers geometrically interlocked with each other. Using selective focus and a shallow depth of field, the detail in the fibers come out only to soften toward the edges. The contrast and fine grain of the film bring out the texture in the rope that falls into the shadows along the bottom edge. I think of discipline and order holding fast despite the wear that comes from experience in a harsh marine environment. Strength and endurance. Texture and shadow.
Created with a Micro-Nikkor 55mm f/3.5 lens mounted on a Nikkormat FTn camera loaded with Ilford Pan F+ film rated at ISO 80. Developed in Acufine developer.
Christ In The Cup
May 08, 2011 - 11:52
While in process of shooting an assignment, I will often expose a roll or two of film to check lighting, composition, depth of field, and how a subject renders on film. This time, I am looking for the right lighting and composition to capture the cross in the reflection of wine in the chalice used for Holy Communion at a local Lutheran church.
I don’t have the composition quite right, but the test exposures worked out well. Once natural lighting improves in the Pacific Northwest, I will continue my quest, but one of the test shots that I took is particularly striking. Do you agree?
I don’t have the composition quite right, but the test exposures worked out well. Once natural lighting improves in the Pacific Northwest, I will continue my quest, but one of the test shots that I took is particularly striking. Do you agree?
Christ In The Cup
The image was captured on Ilford HP+ film with a Nikkormat FTn camera mounted with a Micro-Nikkor 55mm f/3.5 lens. Exposure was about f/5.6 at 1/125 second. The film was rated at ISO 800 and developed in Acufine (stock) for 6 1/2 minutes.
Colorblind
March 13, 2011 - 19:00
One of the biggest problems when shooting film is deciding whether to load color or black and white film in the camera. This is really of no consequence with digital photography because the photographer doesn’t need to decide which one to use until post-production. When using nondestructive imaging software, one can compare the color image to the monochrome one and choose then. With film, the decision has already been made depending on which type of film is in the bag, and especially if the camera is already loaded.
On assignment, the film that I load has as much to do with my mood that day as it does with what I expect to see in the viewfinder. I have to decide if the light is better suited for color, or if monochrome is the better choice. Am I looking for the shape, texture, and contrast of a pencil sketch or impressive colors like a watercolor or oil painting? Do I always get it right? No. But when I know that monochrome film is in the camera I have to wear my ‘monochrome goggles’ too. My mind’s eye has to focus on shadow, mood, and composition rather than the nuance and symbolism of color to bring out what I see in the viewfinder.
When I shot “Colorblind”, found in the Capitol Region gallery, I first thought that the stone in the sculpture “Authority Of The Law” on the the Supreme Court House steps would play well with the red, white, and blue of the American flag in the background. What would that say to the viewer? Would it look cliche? I’m sure that every tourist with a camera who stood where I was standing had already shot it. I was also limited by what I had loaded in the camera that day; Kodak Plus-X. I nearly walked away when I realized that, when it comes to justice, America is supposed to be colorblind. I set a wide aperture, a short shutter speed, and shot the grey stone sculpture against the grey, white, and grey of the flag. I don’t think that it will make the pages of a DC tour book, but then I never intended it to.
On assignment, the film that I load has as much to do with my mood that day as it does with what I expect to see in the viewfinder. I have to decide if the light is better suited for color, or if monochrome is the better choice. Am I looking for the shape, texture, and contrast of a pencil sketch or impressive colors like a watercolor or oil painting? Do I always get it right? No. But when I know that monochrome film is in the camera I have to wear my ‘monochrome goggles’ too. My mind’s eye has to focus on shadow, mood, and composition rather than the nuance and symbolism of color to bring out what I see in the viewfinder.
When I shot “Colorblind”, found in the Capitol Region gallery, I first thought that the stone in the sculpture “Authority Of The Law” on the the Supreme Court House steps would play well with the red, white, and blue of the American flag in the background. What would that say to the viewer? Would it look cliche? I’m sure that every tourist with a camera who stood where I was standing had already shot it. I was also limited by what I had loaded in the camera that day; Kodak Plus-X. I nearly walked away when I realized that, when it comes to justice, America is supposed to be colorblind. I set a wide aperture, a short shutter speed, and shot the grey stone sculpture against the grey, white, and grey of the flag. I don’t think that it will make the pages of a DC tour book, but then I never intended it to.
“Equal Justice Under Law”
ColorBlind
Have You Been To Church Lately ?
February 06, 2011 - 15:35
A couple of years ago, Peace Lutheran Church in the Pacific northwest asked me to photograph their sanctuary for exhibit throughout the church building as part of a remodeling project. This gave me a chance to see the church from a whole new perspective.
The sanctuary of Peace Lutheran has tall translucent purple panels behind the altar that provides a majestic hue, but I didn’t think that it would translate well on chrome film because the rich color would be too saturated in the prints. I could filter it out post-production, but the color in the oak pews would suffer. On the other hand, Kodak TMax 100 monochrome film would mute the color while keeping the detail in the rich oak furnishings and give the prints a nostalgic quality.
I used low angles to photograph the altar and the cross behind it, an overhead perspective to photograph the pews and the organ, and a telephoto lens to compress the distance between the hymn board and the organ. In ‘Sanctuary - 28’, I used color to capture the incandescent light shining on a gold cross framed through the Advent wreathe, which contrasted well against the purple light that blanketed the sanctuary in daylight. ‘Sanctuary - 27’ brings out the cool violet hues of the stained glass. ‘Sanctuary - 21’ won a second place ribbon in the Kitsap County Fair in 2009. My personal favorite is ‘Sanctuary - 13’ with the organist’s spectacles resting on a church bulletin next to the calming structure of the organ keys.
The sanctuary of Peace Lutheran has tall translucent purple panels behind the altar that provides a majestic hue, but I didn’t think that it would translate well on chrome film because the rich color would be too saturated in the prints. I could filter it out post-production, but the color in the oak pews would suffer. On the other hand, Kodak TMax 100 monochrome film would mute the color while keeping the detail in the rich oak furnishings and give the prints a nostalgic quality.
I used low angles to photograph the altar and the cross behind it, an overhead perspective to photograph the pews and the organ, and a telephoto lens to compress the distance between the hymn board and the organ. In ‘Sanctuary - 28’, I used color to capture the incandescent light shining on a gold cross framed through the Advent wreathe, which contrasted well against the purple light that blanketed the sanctuary in daylight. ‘Sanctuary - 27’ brings out the cool violet hues of the stained glass. ‘Sanctuary - 21’ won a second place ribbon in the Kitsap County Fair in 2009. My personal favorite is ‘Sanctuary - 13’ with the organist’s spectacles resting on a church bulletin next to the calming structure of the organ keys.
Photographing the sanctuary of Peace Lutheran Church was a most rewarding assignment. The results are on permanent exhibit in the church and the church offices.
What's In A Name ?
January 29, 2011 - 09:11
Part of the artistic process that I enjoy most is placing a name on a print. It is also the hardest part. When I trip the shutter, I’m not thinking about names. In fact, I try not to think about much at all except composition, exposure, and what developer would be best to bring out what I see in the viewfinder and my imagination.
Once I have the print in hand, I have to decide on a title. Sometimes two or three prints are part of a series and I title them accordingly. In the Ancient Industry gallery, ‘Chiquero’, is named for the pens where bulls wait for their turn in the bullring. ‘Grisly Competition’ precedes ‘Vanquished’ in the timeline of a demolition derby competitor. I could imagine these cars as bulls, or even gladiators, journeying toward glory or a devastating defeat.
The print ‘Service Record’ in the Military gallery reflects the accolades bestowed upon the USS Parche, one of the most famous ships that most people have never heard of. The circumstances that led to the nine Presidential Unit Citations painted on her sail are still considered classified information by the federal government. The ship has since been scrapped, but her sail stands as testimony to the Silent Service, immortalized in front of the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in downtown Bremerton.
In the Portrait gallery, there are a few images that aren’t really portraits in the traditional sense. ‘Old Friends’ reminds me of two friends, one strong and confident and the other not so much, with their heads resting against each other. I can almost see an arm from the larger mailbox wrapped around the ‘shoulder’ of the other. ‘Piano Practice’ is a portrait without a face, but the image speaks to those of us who have had piano lessons as a kid.
Sometimes the name comes easily, such as ‘Self Portrait’, which is a representation of your humble narrator in a setting that describes his passion. Sometimes, all I can think of is ‘Untitled’, but that is usually temporary.
Naming the print is not just half of the art, it’s half of the print.
Once I have the print in hand, I have to decide on a title. Sometimes two or three prints are part of a series and I title them accordingly. In the Ancient Industry gallery, ‘Chiquero’, is named for the pens where bulls wait for their turn in the bullring. ‘Grisly Competition’ precedes ‘Vanquished’ in the timeline of a demolition derby competitor. I could imagine these cars as bulls, or even gladiators, journeying toward glory or a devastating defeat.
The print ‘Service Record’ in the Military gallery reflects the accolades bestowed upon the USS Parche, one of the most famous ships that most people have never heard of. The circumstances that led to the nine Presidential Unit Citations painted on her sail are still considered classified information by the federal government. The ship has since been scrapped, but her sail stands as testimony to the Silent Service, immortalized in front of the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in downtown Bremerton.
In the Portrait gallery, there are a few images that aren’t really portraits in the traditional sense. ‘Old Friends’ reminds me of two friends, one strong and confident and the other not so much, with their heads resting against each other. I can almost see an arm from the larger mailbox wrapped around the ‘shoulder’ of the other. ‘Piano Practice’ is a portrait without a face, but the image speaks to those of us who have had piano lessons as a kid.
Sometimes the name comes easily, such as ‘Self Portrait’, which is a representation of your humble narrator in a setting that describes his passion. Sometimes, all I can think of is ‘Untitled’, but that is usually temporary.
Naming the print is not just half of the art, it’s half of the print.
Mission Complete
November 21, 2010 - 22:16
After weeks of posing, processing, printing, and publishing, I completed the self-assignment for my son’s high school senior portrait. I had never attempted a job like that before but the results were worth the effort.
Before I could put this assignment to bed however, the school requested other portraits or snapshots of prospective graduates for the yearbook. After finding a few that I already had in my library, I discovered on a bookshelf another portrait of the boy. I remember the day well.
While my wife and I were shopping for ceramics in Vietri sul Mare, a small seaside town just east of Sorrento, Italy, our three-year-old son was captivated by the water running from a fountain in the piazza. I tried to pull him away, but his curiosity continued to draw him to it. I would coax him back, but as soon as my attention shifted elsewhere he was playing in the fountain again. Seeing the opportunity, I pulled out my Olympus OM-4T and shot several frames of him spellbound by joy and wonder as the water cascaded around his fingers.
I lost the negative years ago, but I was able to scan the print. This image will be in his high school yearbook this year, but the day will live forever in my heart. It is easy to see why.
Before I could put this assignment to bed however, the school requested other portraits or snapshots of prospective graduates for the yearbook. After finding a few that I already had in my library, I discovered on a bookshelf another portrait of the boy. I remember the day well.
While my wife and I were shopping for ceramics in Vietri sul Mare, a small seaside town just east of Sorrento, Italy, our three-year-old son was captivated by the water running from a fountain in the piazza. I tried to pull him away, but his curiosity continued to draw him to it. I would coax him back, but as soon as my attention shifted elsewhere he was playing in the fountain again. Seeing the opportunity, I pulled out my Olympus OM-4T and shot several frames of him spellbound by joy and wonder as the water cascaded around his fingers.
I lost the negative years ago, but I was able to scan the print. This image will be in his high school yearbook this year, but the day will live forever in my heart. It is easy to see why.
Glee !
Context, Context, Context
November 04, 2010 - 20:49
Puns, reputed to be the lowest form or humor, are still a lot of fun. Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off? He's all right now. Don't join dangerous cults: Practice safe sects! Terrible, but funny. After watching a few minutes of the Comedy Channel, it appears that our culture has lowered the bar even further, but that is a matter of opinion.
While on vacation last summer, we stopped at the Old Montana Prison Museum in Deer Lodge. After lunch, I saw an image that I just couldn’t resist.
Is it a visual pun, or simple irony?
While on vacation last summer, we stopped at the Old Montana Prison Museum in Deer Lodge. After lunch, I saw an image that I just couldn’t resist.
Is it a visual pun, or simple irony?
Context
Makeshift Studio
October 13, 2010 - 06:25
The weather is a fickle partner in the portrait business, especially in Washington. There could be a soft pall of fog one moment and bright sunshine the next. When Nick and I went to Fort Flagler to have a go at it, rain was coming and going, but less so as the morning wore on. Still, there was a heavy overcast which is perfect for outdoor portraits. Once we arrived however, the clouds rose and then dissipated. The result? Harsh shadows and light that had my model squinting.
With nothing more than an open garage, an old cotton tarp, and some bungee cords, I set up a studio of sorts. With a dining room chair and kitchen stool to help position my models, I used a 180mm f/4.5 lens mounted on a Mamiya C330 TLR camera and a Vivitar 283 flash fitted with a Sto-Fen diffuser to shoot not only Nick, but also your humble narrator. My brick and mortar gallery has been asking for my self portrait for months, so I finally obliged.
I used Ilford Pan F+ and Fuji Neopan Acros 100 films, both processed in Rodinal developer (1+50) for 11 minutes.
With nothing more than an open garage, an old cotton tarp, and some bungee cords, I set up a studio of sorts. With a dining room chair and kitchen stool to help position my models, I used a 180mm f/4.5 lens mounted on a Mamiya C330 TLR camera and a Vivitar 283 flash fitted with a Sto-Fen diffuser to shoot not only Nick, but also your humble narrator. My brick and mortar gallery has been asking for my self portrait for months, so I finally obliged.
I used Ilford Pan F+ and Fuji Neopan Acros 100 films, both processed in Rodinal developer (1+50) for 11 minutes.
Senior Portrait
October 07, 2010 - 15:04
My hardest self-assignment yet - Portraits.
I don’t mean the opportunistic kind when someone fits well in a scene, but staged, posed, and artificially lit portraits. My son asked me to shoot his senior portrait this year and I agreed.
It takes work to find the right location (I have no studio), the right format (6x4.5 or 6x6), the right film (monochrome or color) and the right wardrobe. Since I rarely use artificial lighting, we went out to shoot a few test frames and find out how well my 30 year old Vivitar 283 flash could handle the task. I used Chinese Shanghai GP3 film in a Mamiya C220 twin lens reflex camera and the results were good. It was time to choose a location and start shooting.
Fortunately, I’m not tied to any particular day or time and I have latitude on the location. We chose Fort Flagler on the Olympic Peninsula and scheduled the shoot on a Saturday. Being an abandoned gun emplacement on the shores of Puget Sound, there are lots of dark iron railings and marbled grey concrete structures for props and background. The mass and structure of the concrete bunkers and natural lighting that varies from near total darkness to bright daylight gave us lots of options.
I learned a bit about commercial grade portraiture. Everything I learned wasn’t about what worked, but what didn’t.
* First mistake. Don’t shoot in direct sunlight. The flash will fill the shadows, but the bright light makes your subject squint.
* Second mistake. Make sure that your subject does not wear a white or very light shirt. It’s hard to tell where the shirt ends and the neck begins. It also creates distracting highlights if direct sunlight hits it.
* Third mistake. Check the focus carefully before EVERY shot. I had two really good poses in great light, but I would have liked them better if my model was in focus instead of the background.
* Fourth mistake. Watch the framing. When using a camera where the viewing lens is above the objective lens, make sure that there is enough room around your subject. I spoiled a couple of good shots because I was shooting close to the subject and forgot to adjust for parallax. Head shots should include the WHOLE head, not just the lower 90%.
* Fifth mistake. Glasses. Stupid glasses! They almost always create specular highlights on the lenses from reflected fill flash. Have your subject take them off or remove the lenses if they want to wear them. I suppose that reflections could be minimized in a studio environment or removed post-production in the darkroom or computer, but they are irritating nonetheless.
Time to schedule Session Three. Great looking kid, but the photographer needs improvement. Good judgment comes from experience and experience comes from bad judgment. Film is cheap and so is the photographer, so I’ll keep trying until we get it right.
I don’t mean the opportunistic kind when someone fits well in a scene, but staged, posed, and artificially lit portraits. My son asked me to shoot his senior portrait this year and I agreed.
It takes work to find the right location (I have no studio), the right format (6x4.5 or 6x6), the right film (monochrome or color) and the right wardrobe. Since I rarely use artificial lighting, we went out to shoot a few test frames and find out how well my 30 year old Vivitar 283 flash could handle the task. I used Chinese Shanghai GP3 film in a Mamiya C220 twin lens reflex camera and the results were good. It was time to choose a location and start shooting.
Fortunately, I’m not tied to any particular day or time and I have latitude on the location. We chose Fort Flagler on the Olympic Peninsula and scheduled the shoot on a Saturday. Being an abandoned gun emplacement on the shores of Puget Sound, there are lots of dark iron railings and marbled grey concrete structures for props and background. The mass and structure of the concrete bunkers and natural lighting that varies from near total darkness to bright daylight gave us lots of options.
I learned a bit about commercial grade portraiture. Everything I learned wasn’t about what worked, but what didn’t.
* First mistake. Don’t shoot in direct sunlight. The flash will fill the shadows, but the bright light makes your subject squint.
* Second mistake. Make sure that your subject does not wear a white or very light shirt. It’s hard to tell where the shirt ends and the neck begins. It also creates distracting highlights if direct sunlight hits it.
* Third mistake. Check the focus carefully before EVERY shot. I had two really good poses in great light, but I would have liked them better if my model was in focus instead of the background.
* Fourth mistake. Watch the framing. When using a camera where the viewing lens is above the objective lens, make sure that there is enough room around your subject. I spoiled a couple of good shots because I was shooting close to the subject and forgot to adjust for parallax. Head shots should include the WHOLE head, not just the lower 90%.
* Fifth mistake. Glasses. Stupid glasses! They almost always create specular highlights on the lenses from reflected fill flash. Have your subject take them off or remove the lenses if they want to wear them. I suppose that reflections could be minimized in a studio environment or removed post-production in the darkroom or computer, but they are irritating nonetheless.
Time to schedule Session Three. Great looking kid, but the photographer needs improvement. Good judgment comes from experience and experience comes from bad judgment. Film is cheap and so is the photographer, so I’ll keep trying until we get it right.
Gladiators
September 20, 2010 - 21:12
Demolition Derby. These days, they are called destruction derbies but the result is the same; a confrontation between mechanical gladiators. Their colosseum is a dirt track at the fairgrounds. What about the cars’ point of view? What if they had a soul?
The treasured family automobile takes us places. It drives us to work. It drives us to the market. It carried us away on family vacations. Since machinery cannot heal, they eventually become raw material for yet another generation of transportation. Some of them don’t leave quietly, but go out with spirit. They don’t go without a fight.
Last weekend, I had the opportunity to watch the last destruction derby of the season, courtesy of the KDDA. It had rained throughout the day and into the evening. It was the last ‘hurrah’ for automobiles that once beckoned buyers into car dealers’ showrooms. Gleaming chrome. Glossy paint. The low, quiet rumble from a powerful V-8 engine nestled under the hood of a once shiny new automobile. They drove our kids to school and to baseball games. Teenagers brought their first date to the high school homecoming game or the movies in cars like these. The family sedan carried us where we needed to go. They even delivered pizza to hungry football fans on a Sunday afternoon to earn a couple of extra bucks.
In the end, they become just so much sheet metal wrapped around a motor. Perhaps the destruction derby gives them a last chance at youth, to flex their muscle once more before being crushed and hauled to the smelter.
Fight the good fight brave Chevrolet.
The treasured family automobile takes us places. It drives us to work. It drives us to the market. It carried us away on family vacations. Since machinery cannot heal, they eventually become raw material for yet another generation of transportation. Some of them don’t leave quietly, but go out with spirit. They don’t go without a fight.
Last weekend, I had the opportunity to watch the last destruction derby of the season, courtesy of the KDDA. It had rained throughout the day and into the evening. It was the last ‘hurrah’ for automobiles that once beckoned buyers into car dealers’ showrooms. Gleaming chrome. Glossy paint. The low, quiet rumble from a powerful V-8 engine nestled under the hood of a once shiny new automobile. They drove our kids to school and to baseball games. Teenagers brought their first date to the high school homecoming game or the movies in cars like these. The family sedan carried us where we needed to go. They even delivered pizza to hungry football fans on a Sunday afternoon to earn a couple of extra bucks.
In the end, they become just so much sheet metal wrapped around a motor. Perhaps the destruction derby gives them a last chance at youth, to flex their muscle once more before being crushed and hauled to the smelter.
Fight the good fight brave Chevrolet.
Grisly Competition
A Challenge For Monochrome
September 13, 2010 - 13:59
Most photographs that I have seen of a summer carnival have been shot in full, living color. The bright lights in motion on the rides of the midway and the garish banners on the game kiosks and food booths attract the eye of the young, the naive, and the hungry. Colorful flags and spinning machines of perpetual motion fly against a clear and bright blue sky. There’s a lot of information for the eye to process in a photograph with so much color and motion. WIth all of those elements competing for the viewer’s eye, simplifying the subject can be difficult.
Monochrome isn’t really suited to communicate the colorful carnival atmosphere, but it does capture the character. I took my Nikon F100, a 28-85mm Nikkor lens, and a few rolls of TMAX 400 film with me to the Western Washington Fair in Puyallup, Washington. I left the color film at home this time to avoid the distraction of shuffling bodies and lenses while moments of photographic opportunity slip by. Would shooting digitally and deciding on color or monochrome images post-production be easier? Perhaps, but ‘easy’ is not the reason why some of us stay with film.
Spin and Aloft in the Observations gallery show the motion of the rides at the fair. If But For A Moment, Ferris Wheel Rider, and Anticipation in the Portrait gallery capture the emotions that follow. There was action, excitement, and the sound of money rushing from my wallet. The thrill of flying through space and brushing our hair against the clouds was worth every penny of the overpriced day we spent on the midway.
Monochrome isn’t really suited to communicate the colorful carnival atmosphere, but it does capture the character. I took my Nikon F100, a 28-85mm Nikkor lens, and a few rolls of TMAX 400 film with me to the Western Washington Fair in Puyallup, Washington. I left the color film at home this time to avoid the distraction of shuffling bodies and lenses while moments of photographic opportunity slip by. Would shooting digitally and deciding on color or monochrome images post-production be easier? Perhaps, but ‘easy’ is not the reason why some of us stay with film.
Spin and Aloft in the Observations gallery show the motion of the rides at the fair. If But For A Moment, Ferris Wheel Rider, and Anticipation in the Portrait gallery capture the emotions that follow. There was action, excitement, and the sound of money rushing from my wallet. The thrill of flying through space and brushing our hair against the clouds was worth every penny of the overpriced day we spent on the midway.
But That's Just The Beginning
September 08, 2010 - 19:37
It’s a hassle to load film into a bulk film loader in total darkness, in my bathroom, at night, and praying that my kids don’t turn on the lights and ruin the whole roll. I go to Costco and ask for as many spent 35mm film cassettes as they can spare. It takes time to load a one-hundred foot roll of film into at least 18 film cassettes and then trim the end of each roll to allow for the camera take-up spool.
Then there is the camera itself. Finding button cell batteries to power a forty year old light meter is getting harder these days. I load the film into the camera, set the film speed, find the right subject, focus the lens, check the light meter reading, set the aperture, and then the shutter speed. How should I compose the shot? How much depth of field do I want? Do I risk camera shake by choosing a slow shutter speed? Is the light coming from the right direction? How about lens flare? Do I meter for the shadows or the highlights? The meter is useless at night so I just guess at the exposure settings. No 3D matrix metering for me.
But that’s just the beginning.
After the film is exposed, I wind it onto a stainless steel developing reel in a light-tight cloth changing bag, taking care not to kink the film and damage it. Into the processing tank it goes. There is the developer, the stop bath, the fixer, and the hypo clearing agent to mix and keep at just the right temperature. Is the right time set on the timer? Is the developer mixed to the right dilution? After it’s mixed, it’s hard to tell.
Pour the soup into the tank and agitate it with slow, deliberate inversions for 10 seconds every minute for 6 to 20 minutes. Stop bath. Fix for 8 minutes, wash, and then hang the film to dry. An hour has passed.
. . . but that’s just the beginning.
Then there is the camera itself. Finding button cell batteries to power a forty year old light meter is getting harder these days. I load the film into the camera, set the film speed, find the right subject, focus the lens, check the light meter reading, set the aperture, and then the shutter speed. How should I compose the shot? How much depth of field do I want? Do I risk camera shake by choosing a slow shutter speed? Is the light coming from the right direction? How about lens flare? Do I meter for the shadows or the highlights? The meter is useless at night so I just guess at the exposure settings. No 3D matrix metering for me.
But that’s just the beginning.
After the film is exposed, I wind it onto a stainless steel developing reel in a light-tight cloth changing bag, taking care not to kink the film and damage it. Into the processing tank it goes. There is the developer, the stop bath, the fixer, and the hypo clearing agent to mix and keep at just the right temperature. Is the right time set on the timer? Is the developer mixed to the right dilution? After it’s mixed, it’s hard to tell.
Pour the soup into the tank and agitate it with slow, deliberate inversions for 10 seconds every minute for 6 to 20 minutes. Stop bath. Fix for 8 minutes, wash, and then hang the film to dry. An hour has passed.
. . . but that’s just the beginning.
The Way, The Truth, and The Life
Blocked!
August 28, 2010 - 22:53
What does it take to create a great photograph? Is it the subject? Is it the media? How about the theme? I wish I knew.
I have many friends who tell me how wonderful my photographs are, but very few strangers. I have sold a few pieces, but little more than that. At my class reunion last June, a former classmate told me that he liked what he saw on my website. He sought me out just to say so. Despite this, I feel that I have hit a creative slump that I just can't seem to overcome.
One obstacle is equipment. Apart from a daylight film processing tank and a film scanner, I don't have access to the facilities that other fine art photographers use. Enlargers, different types and grades of paper, different chemistry, and other tools that can change a boring photograph into something special and unique. Even if I had the equipment, I don't have the space.
Another obstacle is subject matter. Kitsap County is next to a temperate rain forest. There are lots of indigenous flora and fauna. I see many photographs of eagles and bears and birds shot by local photographers, so I feel that anything I could produce would just look cliché, like a cheap copy of what has already been done. Bremerton has a rich industrial heritage. Submarines. Aircraft carriers. Artillery batteries. I think that I have covered most of those already.
I suppose the moment of sudden realization came after the last Kitsap County Fair. Out of four entries, I received three honorable mentions and a second place ribbon. I don't mean to appear ungrateful, but I expected more than that. Perhaps it was my own arrogance, but I did better in prior years and this year I thought that my entries were quite good, and even better than in prior years.
Perhaps it is a weakness of mine that I don't use Photoshop. I don't cut and paste parts of an image to create another. Apart from removing specks of dust or changing the color balance a bit, I don't manipulate the final image. I might dodge or burn-in portions of a print, but what I see in the viewfinder is what I expect to see in the final print. Judging by what I saw in the winner's circle this year, this may no longer be enough.
No matter, I'll keep soldiering on. I have lots of film. I have patience. Maybe I'm just my own worst enemy, but all I need is inspiration to catch my imagination so I can feel fulfillment with the final print again.
I'm sure glad that I have a day job.
I have many friends who tell me how wonderful my photographs are, but very few strangers. I have sold a few pieces, but little more than that. At my class reunion last June, a former classmate told me that he liked what he saw on my website. He sought me out just to say so. Despite this, I feel that I have hit a creative slump that I just can't seem to overcome.
One obstacle is equipment. Apart from a daylight film processing tank and a film scanner, I don't have access to the facilities that other fine art photographers use. Enlargers, different types and grades of paper, different chemistry, and other tools that can change a boring photograph into something special and unique. Even if I had the equipment, I don't have the space.
Another obstacle is subject matter. Kitsap County is next to a temperate rain forest. There are lots of indigenous flora and fauna. I see many photographs of eagles and bears and birds shot by local photographers, so I feel that anything I could produce would just look cliché, like a cheap copy of what has already been done. Bremerton has a rich industrial heritage. Submarines. Aircraft carriers. Artillery batteries. I think that I have covered most of those already.
I suppose the moment of sudden realization came after the last Kitsap County Fair. Out of four entries, I received three honorable mentions and a second place ribbon. I don't mean to appear ungrateful, but I expected more than that. Perhaps it was my own arrogance, but I did better in prior years and this year I thought that my entries were quite good, and even better than in prior years.
Perhaps it is a weakness of mine that I don't use Photoshop. I don't cut and paste parts of an image to create another. Apart from removing specks of dust or changing the color balance a bit, I don't manipulate the final image. I might dodge or burn-in portions of a print, but what I see in the viewfinder is what I expect to see in the final print. Judging by what I saw in the winner's circle this year, this may no longer be enough.
No matter, I'll keep soldiering on. I have lots of film. I have patience. Maybe I'm just my own worst enemy, but all I need is inspiration to catch my imagination so I can feel fulfillment with the final print again.
I'm sure glad that I have a day job.
Prairie Skies and Red #29
August 08, 2010 - 17:54
I grew up on the prairies of Saskatchewan, Manitoba, and North Dakota. Each summer, my family would drive to Alberta or Ontario on vacations to see relatives or go camping. Outside of the city, the tallest buildings were grain elevators spaced about ten miles apart from each other along the railroad lines and appeared to be tied together with the telephone lines passing from pole to pole. These icons of the prairie stand in solitude winter and summer, storing the harvest until the commodity markets were just right. Tractors and equipment harvested the grain, the trucks hauled it in, and the elevator would weigh it, store it, and load it into railroad hopper cars.
Traditional grain elevators are becoming extinct since concrete grain terminals have emerged. It won’t be long until they are all torn down or collapse from neglect. They have been around for more than a century standing like signposts for ‘POOL’, ‘PIONEER’,’ UGG’, and a number of independent brokers. America named its towns after water towers and Canada named her towns after grain elevators, or so it seems.
I began to process the monochrome film that I shot in rural Minnesota last month. I experimented with a variety of film-developer combinations and filtration. Most of the film was shot with a red #29 filter, which is slightly darker than the #25. The beauty of using red filters with monochrome film is that they bring out very dark and dramatic skies but leave the tonality of clouds. That is, they filter out the blue wavelengths of light to darken the sky and enhance the billowing or feathery clouds. Red filtration also draws out the texture of the metal siding on buildings to appear more like engraved lithographs than photographs.
The results are in the Rural gallery. Bright clouds contrast the geometric elevators and ribbed grain bins against the sky. I used Fuji Acros monochrome film shot at ISO 100 and developed in Edwal FG-7 at 1:15 dilution for 9 minutes. Edwal recommends agitation every 30 seconds for 5 seconds, but after looking at the negatives I would rather process Acros for about 11 minutes and agitate the tank once every minute for 10 seconds. The negatives were so thin that they were nearly unprintable and I was surprised to see how well the images looked. They bring out the kind of texture that gives monochrome film its character. I also shot Plus-X at ISO 80 and processed it in FG-7 for 8 minutes which was about right. The negatives were denser and provided a bit less contrast. The Versatile 435 tractor images are good examples.
Traditional grain elevators are becoming extinct since concrete grain terminals have emerged. It won’t be long until they are all torn down or collapse from neglect. They have been around for more than a century standing like signposts for ‘POOL’, ‘PIONEER’,’ UGG’, and a number of independent brokers. America named its towns after water towers and Canada named her towns after grain elevators, or so it seems.
I began to process the monochrome film that I shot in rural Minnesota last month. I experimented with a variety of film-developer combinations and filtration. Most of the film was shot with a red #29 filter, which is slightly darker than the #25. The beauty of using red filters with monochrome film is that they bring out very dark and dramatic skies but leave the tonality of clouds. That is, they filter out the blue wavelengths of light to darken the sky and enhance the billowing or feathery clouds. Red filtration also draws out the texture of the metal siding on buildings to appear more like engraved lithographs than photographs.
The results are in the Rural gallery. Bright clouds contrast the geometric elevators and ribbed grain bins against the sky. I used Fuji Acros monochrome film shot at ISO 100 and developed in Edwal FG-7 at 1:15 dilution for 9 minutes. Edwal recommends agitation every 30 seconds for 5 seconds, but after looking at the negatives I would rather process Acros for about 11 minutes and agitate the tank once every minute for 10 seconds. The negatives were so thin that they were nearly unprintable and I was surprised to see how well the images looked. They bring out the kind of texture that gives monochrome film its character. I also shot Plus-X at ISO 80 and processed it in FG-7 for 8 minutes which was about right. The negatives were denser and provided a bit less contrast. The Versatile 435 tractor images are good examples.
Industrial Prairie
July 19, 2010 - 07:30
When one thinks of Minnesota or North Dakota, industry usually isn’t the first thought. All you can see over western North Dakota are canyons, rolling hills, and the occasional oil donkey rising and falling as it pumps ‘black gold’ from the Bakken oil fields. Farms and field spread over the flat prairie of eastern North Dakota and northwestern Minnesota. Quiet county roads carry only a few cars or farm machinery from town to town and field to field. Grain elevators are usually the only buildings higher than an equipment storage shed. City dwellers don’t think ‘industrial’ when they see the prairies. At first glance it looks flat, empty, and very rural.
Running a farm is an industrial operation. Modern tractors are capable of dragging heavy machinery through dense topsoil in swaths thirty feet wide and two feet deep. Combine harvesters cut through thousands of acres of ripened crop and separate the stalks and other foreign material from the grain. Full size semi-tractor trucks haul tons of grain from the fields to terminals where it is loaded into railroad hopper cars for transport to food processing centers or seaports for shipment overseas. The agriculture industry in this region produces soybeans, sugar beets, barley, oats, wheat, potatoes, and corn. All of this must happen during the short growing season before brutally cold winters and blizzards encapsulate the landscape.
The risk is high but the rewards are great. No one can control the weather, pest infestations, market fluctuations, or labor disputes. Different crops require different equipment, moisture and temperature levels, soil quality, and production timing. Agricultural businesses experience production delays from regional flooding, crop disease, drought, excess rainfall, wildfire, and equipment failure. Market price fluctuations make forecasting difficult. Farmers must be skilled businessmen to produce food on large economies of scale. They need to understand the commodity markets and their own production and storage capacities. They have the experience and skill of any industrial plant manager to assure that equipment is properly maintained, capital resources are efficiently utilized, suppliers understand their requirements, and the labor force is trained and ready in sufficient numbers to complete their work on time and on budget from planting to harvest. Farmers need to produce the right mix of crops to reduce their losses should the weather be too cold, too hot, too wet, or too dry, yet provide the greatest yield for the lowest cost to maximize their profit. If commodity prices are too low, they need to sell enough product to satisfy their creditors while storing the rest at the proper moisture and temperature levels until demand improves and commodity prices increase.
Being a film photographer, I need time to harvest my crop, but I brought a digital Fuji Finepix S2 Pro SLR along for those subjects of opportunity. ‘Harvest Ready’ is an image of a Versatile 435 articulated tractor highlighting its two critical features: power and traction. It stands as tall as a two story building and can pull anything from a large cultivator to a sugar beet harvester through knee-deep mud in all kinds of weather. It is a symbol of power and capability. A machine with attitude.
More from my Industrial Prairie assignment will come as I unlock the latent images from exposed film.
Running a farm is an industrial operation. Modern tractors are capable of dragging heavy machinery through dense topsoil in swaths thirty feet wide and two feet deep. Combine harvesters cut through thousands of acres of ripened crop and separate the stalks and other foreign material from the grain. Full size semi-tractor trucks haul tons of grain from the fields to terminals where it is loaded into railroad hopper cars for transport to food processing centers or seaports for shipment overseas. The agriculture industry in this region produces soybeans, sugar beets, barley, oats, wheat, potatoes, and corn. All of this must happen during the short growing season before brutally cold winters and blizzards encapsulate the landscape.
The risk is high but the rewards are great. No one can control the weather, pest infestations, market fluctuations, or labor disputes. Different crops require different equipment, moisture and temperature levels, soil quality, and production timing. Agricultural businesses experience production delays from regional flooding, crop disease, drought, excess rainfall, wildfire, and equipment failure. Market price fluctuations make forecasting difficult. Farmers must be skilled businessmen to produce food on large economies of scale. They need to understand the commodity markets and their own production and storage capacities. They have the experience and skill of any industrial plant manager to assure that equipment is properly maintained, capital resources are efficiently utilized, suppliers understand their requirements, and the labor force is trained and ready in sufficient numbers to complete their work on time and on budget from planting to harvest. Farmers need to produce the right mix of crops to reduce their losses should the weather be too cold, too hot, too wet, or too dry, yet provide the greatest yield for the lowest cost to maximize their profit. If commodity prices are too low, they need to sell enough product to satisfy their creditors while storing the rest at the proper moisture and temperature levels until demand improves and commodity prices increase.
Being a film photographer, I need time to harvest my crop, but I brought a digital Fuji Finepix S2 Pro SLR along for those subjects of opportunity. ‘Harvest Ready’ is an image of a Versatile 435 articulated tractor highlighting its two critical features: power and traction. It stands as tall as a two story building and can pull anything from a large cultivator to a sugar beet harvester through knee-deep mud in all kinds of weather. It is a symbol of power and capability. A machine with attitude.
More from my Industrial Prairie assignment will come as I unlock the latent images from exposed film.
Government Issue
June 12, 2010 - 06:50
The Puget Sound was once vulnerable to invasion by sea. In the latter part of the nineteenth century, the timber industry was burgeoning and the Navy had a shipyard established in the deep water seaway protected by mountains and rugged rainforest on all sides. It was a tempting prize for an ambitious conquering nation to blockade the Sound and keep the Navy bottlenecked within. The United States understood this vulnerability, so in 1896 Congress authorized the Secretary of War to fortify and build a complex of artillery emplacements to repel potential attacks of the Puget Sound from the Pacific Ocean.
Fort Flagler, Fort Casey, and Fort Worden were built in a triangle formation to protect Admiralty Inlet. Armed with 10 and 12 inch guns mounted on “disappearing” carriages, these bastions of freedom stood watch over the Straits of San Juan ready for an invasion that would never come. Made obsolete prior to World War II by improved military technologies, these bases were closed in the 1950’s and the land was returned to the State of Washington. They later became state parks that preserve an important part of our nation’s history. They are wonderful to photograph.
I recently visited Fort Flagler on the Olympic Peninsula, located just south of Port Townsend. The concrete bunkers that protected the gun batteries and the military hardware that remain at the site have form and texture that photograph well in monochrome. Ammunition storage bunkers and munitions elevators also remain, hidden deep inside underground chambers protected by these concrete structures.
Random cracks in the thick concrete sections show the power of the Pacific Northwest climate working against man’s best engineering efforts. Monochrome images communicate the form and texture of the iron guns and concrete structures without the distraction of color. The gun mounts that remain are quiet, yet their presence is a powerful reminder of our desire to remain a free nation.
The images of Fort Flagler in the Military and Ancient Industry galleries were shot with a Nikon FM2n camera and 24mm f/2.8 and 50mm f/1.8 Nikkor lenses. I used TMax 400 film exposed at ISO 200 and developed in Microdol-X developer, stock dilution, for 10-1/2 minutes at 20 degrees C.
Fort Flagler, Fort Casey, and Fort Worden were built in a triangle formation to protect Admiralty Inlet. Armed with 10 and 12 inch guns mounted on “disappearing” carriages, these bastions of freedom stood watch over the Straits of San Juan ready for an invasion that would never come. Made obsolete prior to World War II by improved military technologies, these bases were closed in the 1950’s and the land was returned to the State of Washington. They later became state parks that preserve an important part of our nation’s history. They are wonderful to photograph.
I recently visited Fort Flagler on the Olympic Peninsula, located just south of Port Townsend. The concrete bunkers that protected the gun batteries and the military hardware that remain at the site have form and texture that photograph well in monochrome. Ammunition storage bunkers and munitions elevators also remain, hidden deep inside underground chambers protected by these concrete structures.
Random cracks in the thick concrete sections show the power of the Pacific Northwest climate working against man’s best engineering efforts. Monochrome images communicate the form and texture of the iron guns and concrete structures without the distraction of color. The gun mounts that remain are quiet, yet their presence is a powerful reminder of our desire to remain a free nation.
The images of Fort Flagler in the Military and Ancient Industry galleries were shot with a Nikon FM2n camera and 24mm f/2.8 and 50mm f/1.8 Nikkor lenses. I used TMax 400 film exposed at ISO 200 and developed in Microdol-X developer, stock dilution, for 10-1/2 minutes at 20 degrees C.
So What Is Fine Art Anyway?
May 31, 2010 - 14:10
Before I knew exactly what the term meant, I was always uncomfortable referring to my work as ‘fine art’. I always thought it was arrogant to believe that photographs produced by a rank amateur, such as myself, could be referred to as ‘fine’ anything. The mere mention of ‘fine art’ to me conjures a mental image of George Bellows or John Singer Sargent paintings hung in posh metropolitan art galleries.
The definition of fine art varies as much as the person asking the question. It generally refers to works produced by the artist’s own hand as opposed to copies reproduced by a machine, like a magazine or a sales brochure. Does that mean that your vacation snapshots qualify as ‘fine art’? Of course it does. Fine art merely indicates how the print was made, but not necessarily its artistic quality. The term is frequently used as a marketing tool because it sells art.
There are a few highly acclaimed photographers in the art world. Ansel Adams, Arthur Stieglitz, and Dorothea Lange have certainly made their mark as photographers and artists, but what is a true measure of success? Is it the artist’s ability to immortalize subjects from a bygone age? Is it technical brilliance? Perhaps the size of the prints that an artist has sold or the reputation of the galleries where they exhibit their work. In Internet circles, the aesthetic value of a photograph could be measured by the number of comments it draws on Flickr or Facebook. Are these artists just experiencing their 15 minutes of fame or will their images become recognizable icons of their generation enjoyed by audiences decades, or even centuries later?
Artists who rely on their work to earn a living are at a serious disadvantage over those of us who have a day job. For the professional artist, there are deadlines, fickle clients, deadbeats, unscrupulous agents, and the persistent threat of copyright infringement or outright theft. For those of us who simply enjoy creating photographs, we have the luxury of time and total freedom from market forces. We blithely snap away at subjects that we want to photograph while experimenting with different image developing processes and techniques in our free time. We don’t have to sell art to eat, but selling a print feeds our ego.
Making a respectable living producing ‘fine art’ may be one measure of success, but enjoying what you do and winning a contest or two along the way is another. If you are proud to sign your name to an image, you can claim to be a ‘fine art’ photographer. How successful you are is up to your audience.
The definition of fine art varies as much as the person asking the question. It generally refers to works produced by the artist’s own hand as opposed to copies reproduced by a machine, like a magazine or a sales brochure. Does that mean that your vacation snapshots qualify as ‘fine art’? Of course it does. Fine art merely indicates how the print was made, but not necessarily its artistic quality. The term is frequently used as a marketing tool because it sells art.
There are a few highly acclaimed photographers in the art world. Ansel Adams, Arthur Stieglitz, and Dorothea Lange have certainly made their mark as photographers and artists, but what is a true measure of success? Is it the artist’s ability to immortalize subjects from a bygone age? Is it technical brilliance? Perhaps the size of the prints that an artist has sold or the reputation of the galleries where they exhibit their work. In Internet circles, the aesthetic value of a photograph could be measured by the number of comments it draws on Flickr or Facebook. Are these artists just experiencing their 15 minutes of fame or will their images become recognizable icons of their generation enjoyed by audiences decades, or even centuries later?
Artists who rely on their work to earn a living are at a serious disadvantage over those of us who have a day job. For the professional artist, there are deadlines, fickle clients, deadbeats, unscrupulous agents, and the persistent threat of copyright infringement or outright theft. For those of us who simply enjoy creating photographs, we have the luxury of time and total freedom from market forces. We blithely snap away at subjects that we want to photograph while experimenting with different image developing processes and techniques in our free time. We don’t have to sell art to eat, but selling a print feeds our ego.
Making a respectable living producing ‘fine art’ may be one measure of success, but enjoying what you do and winning a contest or two along the way is another. If you are proud to sign your name to an image, you can claim to be a ‘fine art’ photographer. How successful you are is up to your audience.
High Dilution Development
April 18, 2010 - 22:18
I found a post on the APUG website suggesting that Rodinal developer could be diluted far beyond its design limitation to produce images with interesting tonal and textural qualities. I use Rodinal 1:25 for fine grain film, like Plus-X and Maco 100 Plus, to produce monochrome prints with high acutance and just a touch of grain, but after reading about diluting it to 1 part concentrate and 100 parts water, I just had to try it.
To create the solution with as little variability as possible, I mixed 10ml of Rodinal concentrate with 500 ml water to create a 1:50 solution. After removing 250 ml of that solution, I replaced it with 250 ml of water for the final 1:100 solution. I let the film sit in the ‘soup’ for half an hour, agitated the tank slowly three times in a ten-second interval, and then let it sit for another half hour. To stop development, I emptied the tank and then filled it with water and let it rest for another 5 minutes. This lets whatever developer is left to work on the shadow areas whereas stop bath would have stopped development in its tracks. I fixed and washed the negatives in the usual way.
Many of the images were lost to poor composition, but the ones I kept were rather extraordinary. I photographed an old diesel engine that I found sitting on a lot and rusting into oblivion. The combination of grain and high contrast gives the images a gritty, industrial feel and exaggerates the lines in the machine, especially on the exposed valve springs. I just ‘feels’ ancient.
I also found some arborists removing a dying tree and photographed them. The camera was a Pentax Spotmatic F. The lens that I used to photograph the engine was a Takumar 50mm f/1.8 and, for the arborists, a Takumar 135mm f/3.5.
I wouldn’t recommend high dilution development for that once in a lifetime shot, but I was rather pleased with the texture and tonality that I got from the experiment. You will find ‘Where’s Waldo’ and ‘Arborist’ in the ‘Portrait’ gallery and ‘Industrial Mortality’ and ‘Potential Energy’ in the ‘Ancient Industry’ gallery.
Great fun on a Saturday afternoon!
To create the solution with as little variability as possible, I mixed 10ml of Rodinal concentrate with 500 ml water to create a 1:50 solution. After removing 250 ml of that solution, I replaced it with 250 ml of water for the final 1:100 solution. I let the film sit in the ‘soup’ for half an hour, agitated the tank slowly three times in a ten-second interval, and then let it sit for another half hour. To stop development, I emptied the tank and then filled it with water and let it rest for another 5 minutes. This lets whatever developer is left to work on the shadow areas whereas stop bath would have stopped development in its tracks. I fixed and washed the negatives in the usual way.
Many of the images were lost to poor composition, but the ones I kept were rather extraordinary. I photographed an old diesel engine that I found sitting on a lot and rusting into oblivion. The combination of grain and high contrast gives the images a gritty, industrial feel and exaggerates the lines in the machine, especially on the exposed valve springs. I just ‘feels’ ancient.
I also found some arborists removing a dying tree and photographed them. The camera was a Pentax Spotmatic F. The lens that I used to photograph the engine was a Takumar 50mm f/1.8 and, for the arborists, a Takumar 135mm f/3.5.
I wouldn’t recommend high dilution development for that once in a lifetime shot, but I was rather pleased with the texture and tonality that I got from the experiment. You will find ‘Where’s Waldo’ and ‘Arborist’ in the ‘Portrait’ gallery and ‘Industrial Mortality’ and ‘Potential Energy’ in the ‘Ancient Industry’ gallery.
Great fun on a Saturday afternoon!
Submarines
April 11, 2010 - 17:22
The hardest part about shooting submarines is finding them. The Navy likes it that way, but it is frustrating for a photographer with a penchant for photographing military subjects, especially those located in his own back yard.
I live just a few miles from the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard and the submarine base at Bangor, Washington. My day job has a bit to do with supporting their mission but I still can’t get near a sub with a camera without running afoul of Navy security officers. The best I can do is use my imagination while lingering around naval museums and, of course, the mothball fleet.
When I took my Minolta SRT-200 for a walk around the Bremerton waterfront, I came across the salvage remains of the decommissioned Sturgeon-class submarine USS Parche (SSN-683) erected as a monument in front of the shipyard gate. “Secret Savior” places the leading edge of this ship’s sail against the mid day sun. I could feel the majesty of this leviathan breaching the surface of the ocean as I framed the image in the viewfinder. “Service Record” is my favorite of the two. It displays the service history of the Parche using symbology well known to submariners. I rather like the highlights of the dive planes and raised access plates against the dark structure. The grain of Plus-X film processed in Rodinal developer provides a cold and industrial nuance to the image. Also in this gallery are photographs of the World War II veteran USS Bowfin, which is permanently docked at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. I gave these photographs the look of color prints from the 1950s. It was the only way I could salvage them from a lousy exposure.
You can see these images in my ‘Military’ gallery. Until I can get access to the submarine mothball docks or stumble onto a ‘boomer’ passing under the Hood Canal bridge, I have to rely on what I can find within public view at the shipyard, the Naval Undersea Museum at Keyport, or whatever else I can find locally.
I live just a few miles from the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard and the submarine base at Bangor, Washington. My day job has a bit to do with supporting their mission but I still can’t get near a sub with a camera without running afoul of Navy security officers. The best I can do is use my imagination while lingering around naval museums and, of course, the mothball fleet.
When I took my Minolta SRT-200 for a walk around the Bremerton waterfront, I came across the salvage remains of the decommissioned Sturgeon-class submarine USS Parche (SSN-683) erected as a monument in front of the shipyard gate. “Secret Savior” places the leading edge of this ship’s sail against the mid day sun. I could feel the majesty of this leviathan breaching the surface of the ocean as I framed the image in the viewfinder. “Service Record” is my favorite of the two. It displays the service history of the Parche using symbology well known to submariners. I rather like the highlights of the dive planes and raised access plates against the dark structure. The grain of Plus-X film processed in Rodinal developer provides a cold and industrial nuance to the image. Also in this gallery are photographs of the World War II veteran USS Bowfin, which is permanently docked at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. I gave these photographs the look of color prints from the 1950s. It was the only way I could salvage them from a lousy exposure.
You can see these images in my ‘Military’ gallery. Until I can get access to the submarine mothball docks or stumble onto a ‘boomer’ passing under the Hood Canal bridge, I have to rely on what I can find within public view at the shipyard, the Naval Undersea Museum at Keyport, or whatever else I can find locally.
Industrial Baltimore
February 04, 2010 - 21:34
One of my favorite places to shoot is Baltimore. Although access to this marvelous city is not so easy since I returned home, I learned much about Baltimore’s contributions to industry, and ultimately our quality of life. In addition to the legendary advancements in transportation, railroads in particular, the first practical refrigerator was invented in Baltimore. ‘Off the rack’ clothing was developed by Joseph Banks in Baltimore. Edgar Allen Poe lived and died in Baltimore. Paint. Skin cream. Neon lights. Industries involving canning, printing, metalworking, cargo-handling, ship-building, transportation, food processing, baking, machine tooling, banking, pharmaceuticals, and public utilities if not invented in Baltimore were perfected or industrialized there. It is truly a fascinating place for an engineer or someone old enough to ‘remember the day when . . . ’
With the exception of a few photographs shot with Fuji’s Velvia 100, I used monochrome film throughout my adventure. I tend to favor railroad subjects, but I also enjoyed wandering through industrial museums, historic sites like Fort McHenry, and famous landmarks like the Bromo Seltzer Tower and Baltimore’s Inner Harbor. Monochrome gives images of our history an ethereal quality. Velvia film is warm enough to give the color images a warm and familiar feel. Perhaps it is because gas or incandescent lighting was popular way back when.
Part of the experience of using film is seeing what happens next after it is processed. How did the grain in the negative contribute to the texture of the print? Was the depth of field too deep or too shallow? How did the colors in the viewfinder translate into the monochrome tones that I saw in my mind’s eye? Did the HC-110 developer work better than the Edwal FG7? Did the Rodinal developer bring out just enough grain and acutance in the negative without too much contrast?
All part of the adventure.
East Coast Adventure
January 27, 2010 - 17:06
I finished processing the last of the film that I shot since August. I shot full programmed automatic on a few which worked, but did not work on others. Cameras are easily fooled. I trusted my judgment on full manual with good results. Most of the ‘keepers’ can be found in the ‘Military’, ‘Railroad’, and ‘Capitol Region’ galleries, but there are others in ‘Ancient Industry’ and ‘Portrait’.
I had a great deal of satisfaction touring the cradle of our nation while I was away on my ‘day job’. I wish that I could print those shots that were ruined by technical guffaws, but such is ‘analog’ photography.
I had a great deal of satisfaction touring the cradle of our nation while I was away on my ‘day job’. I wish that I could print those shots that were ruined by technical guffaws, but such is ‘analog’ photography.
Railroads
January 22, 2010 - 06:22
The Baltimore and Ohio (B&O) Railroad Museum is an amazing place for anyone who loves railroads and railroad memorabilia. From the earliest demonstration locomotive to the great steaming giants, the B&O museum begins with the very spot where the first mile and a half of commercial railroad was built.
I shot a lot of monochrome there because that is how to shoot the Age of Steam. The 20th Century Limited. The Capitol Limited. The Empire Builder. That was the way to travel in style back in ‘the day’. People used to dress up to travel on the rails. Champagne. Smoking cars. You don’t just get to your destination. You arrive.
Today we are reduced to long lines and security checkpoints. Blue jeans full of holes. Tattooed teenagers and young adults also full of holes. United. Continental. Delta. Get in line. Get on the plane. Sit in a space no larger than a typical office chair, but without the leg room. Get off the plane. Stand in line to watch the parade of luggage, praying that yours will be there. So much for the romance of travel.
Take a look in the Railroad gallery. More will be coming.
I shot a lot of monochrome there because that is how to shoot the Age of Steam. The 20th Century Limited. The Capitol Limited. The Empire Builder. That was the way to travel in style back in ‘the day’. People used to dress up to travel on the rails. Champagne. Smoking cars. You don’t just get to your destination. You arrive.
Today we are reduced to long lines and security checkpoints. Blue jeans full of holes. Tattooed teenagers and young adults also full of holes. United. Continental. Delta. Get in line. Get on the plane. Sit in a space no larger than a typical office chair, but without the leg room. Get off the plane. Stand in line to watch the parade of luggage, praying that yours will be there. So much for the romance of travel.
Take a look in the Railroad gallery. More will be coming.
Trabant
January 14, 2010 - 22:24
I happened upon a Trabant convention at the International Spy Museum in our nation’s capitol. This vestige of communist industrialism has become a cult favorite among immigrants of the former East Germany. Two cylinders. Four passengers. Freedom for the oppressed. Babe magnet. Certainly a curiosity, especially in Washington DC.
The owners of these little wonders are a passionate lot. One of them drove his communist conveyance all the way from Indiana to the convention. When I asked him how he found parts to restore his car, he said that he has a cousin in the former East Germany who was more than willing to help out. I wonder how he could handle a road emergency without carrying a trailer full of spark plugs, belts, hoses, and other hardware? Then again, the engine has only 7 moving parts so that may be a moot point.
Even though the Trabant is capable of highway speeds, I don’t think it would be much of a match for a modern SUV vying for its physical space at that speed.
The owners of these little wonders are a passionate lot. One of them drove his communist conveyance all the way from Indiana to the convention. When I asked him how he found parts to restore his car, he said that he has a cousin in the former East Germany who was more than willing to help out. I wonder how he could handle a road emergency without carrying a trailer full of spark plugs, belts, hoses, and other hardware? Then again, the engine has only 7 moving parts so that may be a moot point.
Even though the Trabant is capable of highway speeds, I don’t think it would be much of a match for a modern SUV vying for its physical space at that speed.
Aberdeen Proving Ground
January 10, 2010 - 15:49
I spent five months on the east coast of the United States last year, and I have finally started to process the film that I have had to keep in the freezer. I am pleased with a few frames that I took at the Army Ordnance Museum at the Aberdeen Proving Ground. You can find “Grim Messenger”,” Leopard Skin”, and ”Study In Grey” in the military gallery. More to come as time permits.
