Assignments
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.
