Process
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.
Monochrome Is Back!
May 21, 2010 - 06:10
The monochrome gallery is back. I took it off the website and replaced it with Natural FX earlier this month, but I got more hits on the monochrome gallery in two weeks than I did with the new one. I spend a fair amount of time studying monochrome photographs on the web, so it just makes sense to include a monochrome gallery on Visions of Vocation.
Monochrome processing is easy to do without a lot equipment. It produces images with more natural character than color film or digital photographs. Monochrome images have shape, tone, and grain without a lot of computer post-processing. After scanning the negatives, I simply adjust the contrast, remove the dust spots, and post.
From the cheap and grainy Chinese films to the fine grain and high resolution of Ilford Pan F, each kind has its own character. In combination with different developers, developer dilutions, processing time, and temperature, a photographer has many different options without the distractions of color or the buttons and menu selections found on the camera itself. All you need is a solid 35 mm or medium format camera, a good light meter, a few prime lenses, maybe a red or yellow filter, and an understanding of the zone system. ‘Rolling your own’ with bulk film loader helps keep the costs down.
Monochrome processing is easy to do without a lot equipment. It produces images with more natural character than color film or digital photographs. Monochrome images have shape, tone, and grain without a lot of computer post-processing. After scanning the negatives, I simply adjust the contrast, remove the dust spots, and post.
From the cheap and grainy Chinese films to the fine grain and high resolution of Ilford Pan F, each kind has its own character. In combination with different developers, developer dilutions, processing time, and temperature, a photographer has many different options without the distractions of color or the buttons and menu selections found on the camera itself. All you need is a solid 35 mm or medium format camera, a good light meter, a few prime lenses, maybe a red or yellow filter, and an understanding of the zone system. ‘Rolling your own’ with bulk film loader helps keep the costs down.
Green Photography
May 14, 2010 - 21:30
Traditional photography, now referred to as analog, uses chemical solutions to change the latent image on film into a printable negative. Hydroquinone is the main active ingredient in black and white film developers. Acetic acid is in stop bath. The ammonium thiosulphate in fixer stabilizes the developed image while washing away excess silver compounds left on the less exposed areas of the film. With all of this chemistry entering our waste water systems, how can traditional chemical photography be considered ‘green’?
In very dilute solutions, the hydroquinone in developer decomposes in minutes. The acetic acid in stop bath is of the same kind found in orange juice or vinegar, just more concentrated. The ammonium thiosulphate and silver compounds in exhausted fixer are a different matter. With use, the silver concentration in fixer increases to the point where the fixer becomes exhausted. The silver can be recovered, refined, and reused. The ammonia thiosulphate is treated in waste water plants to remove excess nitrogen and prevent excessive algae growth in rivers and streams. If ‘analog’ photographers work responsibly, all of these chemicals can be treated and neutralized. Commercial processor technology uses color chemistry to its maximum potential. Modern hazardous waste processing later renders it environmentally safe.
Before digital photography, people kept their cameras longer than they do now. For example, a photographer who bought a Nikon FTn would use the camera for years while building an investment of lenses. New camera models were introduced every five to eight years instead of every year or two as digital cameras are today. Photographers would ‘upgrade’ to a new camera body from time to time, but they usually kept their lenses and older bodies until they wore out. Back then, any Nikon lens worked on any Nikon body. Today, photographers need to watch which lenses work with certain cameras. A Nikkor-P 105 mm f/2.5 lens built in 1968 will not function on a Nikon D200 camera. In fact, older lenses used on newer digital cameras can permanently damage them.
I can’t use my Nikkor-P 105 mm lens on my Fuji S2 Pro digital SLR, but I can use my Nikon AF-D lenses on my Nikon F. Now that’s green!
In very dilute solutions, the hydroquinone in developer decomposes in minutes. The acetic acid in stop bath is of the same kind found in orange juice or vinegar, just more concentrated. The ammonium thiosulphate and silver compounds in exhausted fixer are a different matter. With use, the silver concentration in fixer increases to the point where the fixer becomes exhausted. The silver can be recovered, refined, and reused. The ammonia thiosulphate is treated in waste water plants to remove excess nitrogen and prevent excessive algae growth in rivers and streams. If ‘analog’ photographers work responsibly, all of these chemicals can be treated and neutralized. Commercial processor technology uses color chemistry to its maximum potential. Modern hazardous waste processing later renders it environmentally safe.
Before digital photography, people kept their cameras longer than they do now. For example, a photographer who bought a Nikon FTn would use the camera for years while building an investment of lenses. New camera models were introduced every five to eight years instead of every year or two as digital cameras are today. Photographers would ‘upgrade’ to a new camera body from time to time, but they usually kept their lenses and older bodies until they wore out. Back then, any Nikon lens worked on any Nikon body. Today, photographers need to watch which lenses work with certain cameras. A Nikkor-P 105 mm f/2.5 lens built in 1968 will not function on a Nikon D200 camera. In fact, older lenses used on newer digital cameras can permanently damage them.
I can’t use my Nikkor-P 105 mm lens on my Fuji S2 Pro digital SLR, but I can use my Nikon AF-D lenses on my Nikon F. Now that’s green!
Pre-Photoshop Surrealism
May 05, 2010 - 16:37
There are times when an artist has to try something a little different to jar the creativity within. Edward Hopper did this often by moving between etching, painting, and sketching. He would paint portraits, landscapes, railroad scenes, restaurant interiors, houses, and even sunlight striking the interior wall in a house using pencil, pen, watercolor, and oil paint.
I am certainly no Ed Hopper, but I am finding that my narrow focus on military subjects, particularly Navy ones, is starting to feel a bit ordinary. Living in a Navy fleet concentration area, there are many military and industrial subjects to photograph, so I try to capture them in a different way.
Many digital photographers are well acquainted with software, like Adobe Photoshop, to manipulate image color, hue, sharpness, and exposure to some degree, but it can also radically change the image until it bears no resemblance to the original photograph. Artistically there is nothing wrong with this, but to me “re-photographing” digital images in this manner is more akin to the montages that I made in kindergarten with white glue and pictures cut from old Sears or Eaton’s catalogs.
I retired the Monochrome and Infrared galleries today and, in their place, created the Natural FX gallery. This is where I can place strange or unusual photographs that I made in a more traditional way. A couple of weeks ago, I took my 35 mm pinhole camera out of the closet, loaded it with a roll of Fuji Velvia 100 slide film, grabbed my tripod and light meter, and trekked out to the Bremerton waterfront.
Photographs made with a pinhole camera have a soft, ethereal quality that is hard to match with a standard lens. The camera, a teakwood box in this case, has been fitted with a thin piece of brass bored with a very small hole where the lens should be. I’m not sure of its size, but the hole is about one-hundredth of an inch in diameter. In 35 mm terms, that would be an aperture of about f/138. In broad daylight, an exposure on 100 ISO film takes about three or four seconds, hence the need for a sturdy tripod.
You never know what you will get with a pinhole camera. Sometimes it is hard to keep the camera stable on the tripod during the very manual exposure. The shutter is my fingertip. Inadvertent double exposures are common. Sometimes if the light is low, there is a significant shift away from the expected “normal” in color or hue of the finished image. Sometimes this failure of the Reciprocity Law leaves only a dark space on the film where an image should be. Exposure variations can create either unexpected beauty or an imperceptible blur. Variability can give a ‘normal’ composition a pleasing surreal quality, or just junk.
Additionally in this gallery, I placed images that I shot using a digital SLR with an R72 filter over the lens. The R72 filter blocks most visible light below the 720 nanometer wavelength and allows more near-infrared (NIR) and infrared (IR) light to strike the camera’s image sensor. This gives us a chance to see the unseen. Foliage glows brightly while concrete and steel, which reflect less infrared light, assume darker tones. The photographer can adjust the color palette of the image post-production for a general cold indigo, warm blue-green, or copper patina appearance. In any case, the image looks very different from those created by the ‘white’ visible light that our eyes see.
I’m not sure what I will try next. Whatever it may be, I’m sure that I can do it without technology getting in the way or making decisions for me.
I am certainly no Ed Hopper, but I am finding that my narrow focus on military subjects, particularly Navy ones, is starting to feel a bit ordinary. Living in a Navy fleet concentration area, there are many military and industrial subjects to photograph, so I try to capture them in a different way.
Many digital photographers are well acquainted with software, like Adobe Photoshop, to manipulate image color, hue, sharpness, and exposure to some degree, but it can also radically change the image until it bears no resemblance to the original photograph. Artistically there is nothing wrong with this, but to me “re-photographing” digital images in this manner is more akin to the montages that I made in kindergarten with white glue and pictures cut from old Sears or Eaton’s catalogs.
I retired the Monochrome and Infrared galleries today and, in their place, created the Natural FX gallery. This is where I can place strange or unusual photographs that I made in a more traditional way. A couple of weeks ago, I took my 35 mm pinhole camera out of the closet, loaded it with a roll of Fuji Velvia 100 slide film, grabbed my tripod and light meter, and trekked out to the Bremerton waterfront.
Photographs made with a pinhole camera have a soft, ethereal quality that is hard to match with a standard lens. The camera, a teakwood box in this case, has been fitted with a thin piece of brass bored with a very small hole where the lens should be. I’m not sure of its size, but the hole is about one-hundredth of an inch in diameter. In 35 mm terms, that would be an aperture of about f/138. In broad daylight, an exposure on 100 ISO film takes about three or four seconds, hence the need for a sturdy tripod.
You never know what you will get with a pinhole camera. Sometimes it is hard to keep the camera stable on the tripod during the very manual exposure. The shutter is my fingertip. Inadvertent double exposures are common. Sometimes if the light is low, there is a significant shift away from the expected “normal” in color or hue of the finished image. Sometimes this failure of the Reciprocity Law leaves only a dark space on the film where an image should be. Exposure variations can create either unexpected beauty or an imperceptible blur. Variability can give a ‘normal’ composition a pleasing surreal quality, or just junk.
Additionally in this gallery, I placed images that I shot using a digital SLR with an R72 filter over the lens. The R72 filter blocks most visible light below the 720 nanometer wavelength and allows more near-infrared (NIR) and infrared (IR) light to strike the camera’s image sensor. This gives us a chance to see the unseen. Foliage glows brightly while concrete and steel, which reflect less infrared light, assume darker tones. The photographer can adjust the color palette of the image post-production for a general cold indigo, warm blue-green, or copper patina appearance. In any case, the image looks very different from those created by the ‘white’ visible light that our eyes see.
I’m not sure what I will try next. Whatever it may be, I’m sure that I can do it without technology getting in the way or making decisions for me.
High Quality, Low Cost Digital Cameras
April 28, 2010 - 19:37
Every week, I see advertisements for the latest in digital photographic equipment that varies from inexpensive low quality mini-cameras to high-end professional grade instruments. Leaving the low quality cameras on the discount store shelf is a no-brainer, unless you want something you can leave in the glove box of your car to document your next accident. If you want high quality photographs, your options are to risk rapid obsolescence by buying today’s latest digital technology, or buy a professional quality film camera from eBay or perhaps a garage sale or local pawn shop. So what does an “old school” film camera have to do with high quality digital photography? Besides the obvious costs involved, more than you might think.
Not even a decade ago, photographs in magazines and exhibitions were created from photographic film exposed in cameras that have changed little in principle for a century. A photograph made with a forty year old Nikkormat or 10 year old Nikon F100 was of better quality than a digital photograph shot through the same lens. Digital imaging technology has improved much since then, but you can still get high quality digital photographs from a film camera if you let the processor scan and digitize the negatives and slides for you when the film is processed. It doesn’t cost much for the casual photographer to get high quality digital images from film. If your volume is low, the cost of the latest digital SLR camera with its dedicated lens is far more than an older film camera using the same optics. If you shoot lots of film, like some folks I know, a quality film scanner can be had for less than $1000.
For less than half the cost of a refurbished $1,300 Nikon D300 body, you can get a professional quality Nikon F100 in excellent condition with a 28-35mm Nikon autofocus lens that produces images, when scanned, rival those from any digital camera. If you prefer a mechanical camera like a Nikon FM2, a Minolta SRT 102, or a Canon AE-1, the cost is even less. In case you didn’t know, a Nikon lens produced in 1975 will fit the Nikon F100, albeit without autofocus. For the price of a few memory cards, you can get a superb Nikon autofocus or a Canon FD zoom lens. There are thousands of them on the market and most are available for a song. Lenses from other manufacturers, like Pentax or Minolta, cost even less.
As a bonus, the photographer also gets low-cost, incorruptible image backups with the negatives and compact discs full of digitized photographs. No corrupt memory cards. No lost image libraries. No missed shots because of dead batteries or faulty electronics, and no confusing menus or settings to fiddle with while awe-inspiring photo-ops slip away.
Besides, good photographers can create outstanding images with any camera, even if it is just a light-tight box with a pinhole for a lens.
Not even a decade ago, photographs in magazines and exhibitions were created from photographic film exposed in cameras that have changed little in principle for a century. A photograph made with a forty year old Nikkormat or 10 year old Nikon F100 was of better quality than a digital photograph shot through the same lens. Digital imaging technology has improved much since then, but you can still get high quality digital photographs from a film camera if you let the processor scan and digitize the negatives and slides for you when the film is processed. It doesn’t cost much for the casual photographer to get high quality digital images from film. If your volume is low, the cost of the latest digital SLR camera with its dedicated lens is far more than an older film camera using the same optics. If you shoot lots of film, like some folks I know, a quality film scanner can be had for less than $1000.
For less than half the cost of a refurbished $1,300 Nikon D300 body, you can get a professional quality Nikon F100 in excellent condition with a 28-35mm Nikon autofocus lens that produces images, when scanned, rival those from any digital camera. If you prefer a mechanical camera like a Nikon FM2, a Minolta SRT 102, or a Canon AE-1, the cost is even less. In case you didn’t know, a Nikon lens produced in 1975 will fit the Nikon F100, albeit without autofocus. For the price of a few memory cards, you can get a superb Nikon autofocus or a Canon FD zoom lens. There are thousands of them on the market and most are available for a song. Lenses from other manufacturers, like Pentax or Minolta, cost even less.
As a bonus, the photographer also gets low-cost, incorruptible image backups with the negatives and compact discs full of digitized photographs. No corrupt memory cards. No lost image libraries. No missed shots because of dead batteries or faulty electronics, and no confusing menus or settings to fiddle with while awe-inspiring photo-ops slip away.
Besides, good photographers can create outstanding images with any camera, even if it is just a light-tight box with a pinhole for a lens.
(This image was created with a 35 mm pinhole camera and TMax 100 film)
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.
So Just How Hard Could It Be?
April 05, 2010 - 06:00
So just how hard could it be to build a web gallery? You see them all over the web and they vary in quality. I was pushed into building a website about a year and a half ago at the request of the owner of one of my venues, the Global Bean Coffee Company.
There was a bit of a learning curve. I had to find a web hosting service and learn how to set up the site and the domain. Then there was the web publishing software to find, set up, and learn to use. It’s not quite as easy as falling out of bed, but it becomes intuitive after some practice.
There are many web hosts available and it wasn’t hard to find a reputable one. There are scam artists I’m sure, but a bit of research should ferret out the good ones. The software needed to build the site was a different issue. I looked at several, but decided on RapidWeaver offered by Realmac Software. The iWeb software that comes with OS X just wasn’t sophisticated enough. You can also download a free version of RapidWeaver. It does everything the licensed version does, but you can only build three web pages which isn’t very useful unless all you need is a homepage and two gallery pages.
To begin with, RapidWeaver is built for the Apple MacIntosh, which is the platform that I use for the native graphics features in OS X. RapidWeaver is supported by a wide range of theme developers from all over the world. A theme establishes the look and feel of a website. Some are rather plain, but functional. Others are highly customizable, such as the one that I used for this website. I used the PageMix theme from MultiThemes, an Italian developer. They offer themes at quite a reasonable price for what you get. They even have a few simple themes available at no cost that help the neophyte learn how they work.
Themes are very helpful, but there are also plug-ins built for RapidWeaver that simplify building web pages. Your Head Software offers a number of plug-ins. My home page was built using the Stacks plug-in and the gallery pages were made with the Collage plug-in. The Method and Resume pages were both built with the Accordion plug-in. All of these plug-ins came from Your Head. For months, I used the RapidAlbum photo gallery plug-in, which is free from Mackie Software. I have never required support from the third party developers, but I needed a bit of help from RealMac once and they were better than any company I have ever dealt with.
There is FaceBook and Flickr, but why not try to be more independent? Even if I am the only one who visits the site, at least I know who created it and the domain name is mine to keep as long as I keep it registered.
There was a bit of a learning curve. I had to find a web hosting service and learn how to set up the site and the domain. Then there was the web publishing software to find, set up, and learn to use. It’s not quite as easy as falling out of bed, but it becomes intuitive after some practice.
There are many web hosts available and it wasn’t hard to find a reputable one. There are scam artists I’m sure, but a bit of research should ferret out the good ones. The software needed to build the site was a different issue. I looked at several, but decided on RapidWeaver offered by Realmac Software. The iWeb software that comes with OS X just wasn’t sophisticated enough. You can also download a free version of RapidWeaver. It does everything the licensed version does, but you can only build three web pages which isn’t very useful unless all you need is a homepage and two gallery pages.
To begin with, RapidWeaver is built for the Apple MacIntosh, which is the platform that I use for the native graphics features in OS X. RapidWeaver is supported by a wide range of theme developers from all over the world. A theme establishes the look and feel of a website. Some are rather plain, but functional. Others are highly customizable, such as the one that I used for this website. I used the PageMix theme from MultiThemes, an Italian developer. They offer themes at quite a reasonable price for what you get. They even have a few simple themes available at no cost that help the neophyte learn how they work.
Themes are very helpful, but there are also plug-ins built for RapidWeaver that simplify building web pages. Your Head Software offers a number of plug-ins. My home page was built using the Stacks plug-in and the gallery pages were made with the Collage plug-in. The Method and Resume pages were both built with the Accordion plug-in. All of these plug-ins came from Your Head. For months, I used the RapidAlbum photo gallery plug-in, which is free from Mackie Software. I have never required support from the third party developers, but I needed a bit of help from RealMac once and they were better than any company I have ever dealt with.
There is FaceBook and Flickr, but why not try to be more independent? Even if I am the only one who visits the site, at least I know who created it and the domain name is mine to keep as long as I keep it registered.
HDR and The Zone System
March 14, 2010 - 13:10
I set up a new gallery today just for monochrome photographs. Monochrome, otherwise known as ‘black and white’, is my favorite medium because it uses shape and texture to form an image rather than color. Monochrome conveys a feeling of nostalgia or timelessness and communicates mood with form and texture. It is also easier for the ‘analog’ photographer to control image contrast and tonal width using exposure, chemistry temperature, and development time.
While at the Silverdale Art Walk last Friday, a photographer who works with digital processes visited my venue. He explained high dynamic range (HDR) imaging to me. This process involves taking a series of digital photographs using successively low to high exposure values. I assume that those exposures are 1/3 to a full stop apart from each other. Using Adobe Photoshop, the RAW format images are blended together so that the lowest exposure values can be printed closer to the highest exposure values to minimize darkened shadows or blown-out highlights, thereby controlling contrast. This requires expensive high-end digital equipment, computers, and imaging software to create the final print.
The Zone System, developed by Ansel Adams, produces a similar effect. Density values on developed film range from Zone I, or pure black on the finished print, to Zone X which is pure white. Zone V is middle grey. Each zone is different from the next by one exposure value, or f-stop. By exposing the shadows at about Zone V and decreasing development time, a photographer can do essentially the same thing. The increased exposure brings out the details normally hidden in the shadows while the reduced development prevents details in the highlights from blowing out into Zone X, or pure white in the final print. Although this process was developed for sheet film, a photographer can make a series of exposures at various exposure values on roll film and choose the best image from the scan or contact sheet. Each film formulation is different so it takes a bit of experimentation to find the right exposure/development combination for a particular film. Modern film quality is consistent, so one roll of Plus-X film will behave like another roll of Plus-X film under the same exposure and development combination.
Although I have never used the HDR method, I can practice the Zone System with a film camera, a daylight processing tank, standard chemistry, a Nikon scanner, and my Macbook Pro. Best of all, I don’t have to worry about my hard earned money fading into obsolescence when the next digital innovation hits the market.
Not better, just different. I do wonder just how long a digital image will last over time, however.
While at the Silverdale Art Walk last Friday, a photographer who works with digital processes visited my venue. He explained high dynamic range (HDR) imaging to me. This process involves taking a series of digital photographs using successively low to high exposure values. I assume that those exposures are 1/3 to a full stop apart from each other. Using Adobe Photoshop, the RAW format images are blended together so that the lowest exposure values can be printed closer to the highest exposure values to minimize darkened shadows or blown-out highlights, thereby controlling contrast. This requires expensive high-end digital equipment, computers, and imaging software to create the final print.
The Zone System, developed by Ansel Adams, produces a similar effect. Density values on developed film range from Zone I, or pure black on the finished print, to Zone X which is pure white. Zone V is middle grey. Each zone is different from the next by one exposure value, or f-stop. By exposing the shadows at about Zone V and decreasing development time, a photographer can do essentially the same thing. The increased exposure brings out the details normally hidden in the shadows while the reduced development prevents details in the highlights from blowing out into Zone X, or pure white in the final print. Although this process was developed for sheet film, a photographer can make a series of exposures at various exposure values on roll film and choose the best image from the scan or contact sheet. Each film formulation is different so it takes a bit of experimentation to find the right exposure/development combination for a particular film. Modern film quality is consistent, so one roll of Plus-X film will behave like another roll of Plus-X film under the same exposure and development combination.
Although I have never used the HDR method, I can practice the Zone System with a film camera, a daylight processing tank, standard chemistry, a Nikon scanner, and my Macbook Pro. Best of all, I don’t have to worry about my hard earned money fading into obsolescence when the next digital innovation hits the market.
Not better, just different. I do wonder just how long a digital image will last over time, however.
Why The Bother?
February 13, 2010 - 21:33
It seems that most photography that I see on the web or displayed in local exhibits began as a digital image. If you see a photograph on the web it has to be digital, but some do not start that way. I see many people with digital cameras taking pictures and publishing them on a website somewhere, like Flickr, Picasa, or Facebook. The photographs that you see on this website are also digital images, but most of them came from scanned ‘analog’ slides or negatives.
Firing the shutter on a camera is just the first step. If you are a digital photographer, the images still need to be downloaded into a computer and then manipulated somehow with Photoshop or similar software. The result can be surreal dreamlike images, false colors, absurd composites, mosaics, or other fragments of the photographer’s imagination. Sometimes digital images are only cleaned up a bit. The color is adjusted or the edges sharpened. These manipulations can culminate into a work of art, but somehow I think a photograph that begins as a digital image is a derivative of photography that I would rather not explore, at least not yet.
I shoot slides or monochrome print film most of the time. Occasionally I’ll shoot color print film, but I prefer the saturated reds, blues, and yellows of chromes, also known as slide film. Chromes are predicable. As long as the film is fresh, Velvia 100 from one batch looks very much like Velvia 100 from another batch. Monochrome film on the other hand, holds a special fascination for me.
Forrest Gump could have said that monochrome photographs are like a box of chocolates. You never know just what you’ll get. A lot depends on the film and developer combinations. Some of it depends on the temperature of the developer, how the film is exposed, or the length of time that the film is in the ‘soup’. Medium format film, of the 120 or 220 types, gives better definition and finer grain than 35mm negatives can on the same emulsion, but often the characteristic grain of 35mm film contributes to the texture and quality of the resulting photograph and the statement that the photographer is trying to make.
Digital? It is very predictable. It is static. It begs to be manipulated post-production. Digital photography is a legitimate art form, but it is not what I consider authentic. I need a certain level of random variability to make photography exciting. It is one thing to get instant gratification seconds after an image is shot, but it is quite another to savor the anticipation of what I think I have captured on film compared to the photograph that is really on the negative. In one instance, I kinked and damaged a roll of 35mm Fomapan 100 because I had a hard time winding it on the processing reel when I processed it. To make matters worse, the film had doubled up on the reel and the emulsion surfaces of the film contacted each other and stuck together during development, leaving only a few printable frames. Winter Rails was on that roll. It remains one of my favorite prints.
That’s why I bother.
Firing the shutter on a camera is just the first step. If you are a digital photographer, the images still need to be downloaded into a computer and then manipulated somehow with Photoshop or similar software. The result can be surreal dreamlike images, false colors, absurd composites, mosaics, or other fragments of the photographer’s imagination. Sometimes digital images are only cleaned up a bit. The color is adjusted or the edges sharpened. These manipulations can culminate into a work of art, but somehow I think a photograph that begins as a digital image is a derivative of photography that I would rather not explore, at least not yet.
I shoot slides or monochrome print film most of the time. Occasionally I’ll shoot color print film, but I prefer the saturated reds, blues, and yellows of chromes, also known as slide film. Chromes are predicable. As long as the film is fresh, Velvia 100 from one batch looks very much like Velvia 100 from another batch. Monochrome film on the other hand, holds a special fascination for me.
Forrest Gump could have said that monochrome photographs are like a box of chocolates. You never know just what you’ll get. A lot depends on the film and developer combinations. Some of it depends on the temperature of the developer, how the film is exposed, or the length of time that the film is in the ‘soup’. Medium format film, of the 120 or 220 types, gives better definition and finer grain than 35mm negatives can on the same emulsion, but often the characteristic grain of 35mm film contributes to the texture and quality of the resulting photograph and the statement that the photographer is trying to make.
Digital? It is very predictable. It is static. It begs to be manipulated post-production. Digital photography is a legitimate art form, but it is not what I consider authentic. I need a certain level of random variability to make photography exciting. It is one thing to get instant gratification seconds after an image is shot, but it is quite another to savor the anticipation of what I think I have captured on film compared to the photograph that is really on the negative. In one instance, I kinked and damaged a roll of 35mm Fomapan 100 because I had a hard time winding it on the processing reel when I processed it. To make matters worse, the film had doubled up on the reel and the emulsion surfaces of the film contacted each other and stuck together during development, leaving only a few printable frames. Winter Rails was on that roll. It remains one of my favorite prints.
That’s why I bother.
