film
Nikons and Nikkormats
June 25, 2010 - 06:26 Filed in: Equipment
In this age of automation and instant digital gratification, it is hard to imagine anyone still using a purely mechanical camera, unless they have been lured into the Holga niche. Even among film aficionados, most ‘analog’ cameras use autoexposure or autofocus to help the photographer. There are a few of us who still prefer manual methods.
The Nikon F put Nikon on the map. Back in 1959 this camera was a less expensive alternative to the high precision German cameras, which were the ‘gold standard’ of the day. The Nikon featured interchangeable lenses, focusing screens, viewfinders, and even film backs. It did not have a built in light meter, but back in the 50’s most photographers distrusted integral light meters and preferred the more accurate dedicated light meters. The Nikons and Nikkormats later featured more accurate integral light meters and photographers began to appreciate their convenience.
The Nikon F was built like a brick and able to take the usual knocks and drops of professional photojournalism. The Nikkormat series cameras were the ‘poor man’s’ Nikon. They didn’t have all of the features of the Nikon F, but they did use the same interchangeable lenses and were often backup cameras for the working pro. Along with the build quality of a professional camera, it’s the optics that matter. For years, Nikons have been THE cameras to which others were judged.
It’s wonderful that these legendary machines have become so affordable since the rise in popularity of digital photography, but also sad that they are so ‘last century’. The images they produce are as excellent as they have always been, which brings me back to a time when photographers had to instinctively know the optimal combination of lens aperture, shutter speed, and focus for the film they were using, and a bit of luck helped.
‘Pre-Game’, found in the Baseball Gallery, won First Place, Best of Category, and Judge’s Choice at the Kitsap County Fair in 2008. It was shot with a Nikkormat FTn mounted with a 50mm f/1.4 Nikkor-P lens on Fomapan 200 film.
Go Nikon!
The Nikon F put Nikon on the map. Back in 1959 this camera was a less expensive alternative to the high precision German cameras, which were the ‘gold standard’ of the day. The Nikon featured interchangeable lenses, focusing screens, viewfinders, and even film backs. It did not have a built in light meter, but back in the 50’s most photographers distrusted integral light meters and preferred the more accurate dedicated light meters. The Nikons and Nikkormats later featured more accurate integral light meters and photographers began to appreciate their convenience.
The Nikon F was built like a brick and able to take the usual knocks and drops of professional photojournalism. The Nikkormat series cameras were the ‘poor man’s’ Nikon. They didn’t have all of the features of the Nikon F, but they did use the same interchangeable lenses and were often backup cameras for the working pro. Along with the build quality of a professional camera, it’s the optics that matter. For years, Nikons have been THE cameras to which others were judged.
It’s wonderful that these legendary machines have become so affordable since the rise in popularity of digital photography, but also sad that they are so ‘last century’. The images they produce are as excellent as they have always been, which brings me back to a time when photographers had to instinctively know the optimal combination of lens aperture, shutter speed, and focus for the film they were using, and a bit of luck helped.
‘Pre-Game’, found in the Baseball Gallery, won First Place, Best of Category, and Judge’s Choice at the Kitsap County Fair in 2008. It was shot with a Nikkormat FTn mounted with a 50mm f/1.4 Nikkor-P lens on Fomapan 200 film.
Go Nikon!
Green Photography
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!
Like a Kid in a Candy Store
May 02, 2010 - 20:52 Filed in: Equipment
Yesterday, the Puget Sound Photographic Collectors Society (PSPCS) held its annual Photographic Show and Swap Meet in Puyallup, Washington. I look forward to this event all year long. Vendors and private collectors gather to buy, sell, and trade their photographic wares that range from century-old box cameras to modern professional grade digital equipment. It’s like eBay, except buyers get to look at the merchandise before money changes hands, there are no last second bidding wars, and no haggling over ‘postage and handling’. If you’re lucky, you can even win a door prize!
I wasn’t in the building five minutes when I came across a table sporting a pair of Mamiya twin lens reflex cameras. I asked how much the seller was asking for one of them, a well maintained C220f, like I was even interested. I already own a C330 and a model C330f. What on earth would I do with a third body? The camera included an 80mm f/2.8 blue dot lens and a strap. I would need to produce $90 cash to walk away with it.
Up to this point, I had never used either the C220f or the C330s. I performed the usual superficial inspection. Wind the film crank. Look in the viewfinder for cracks and the kind of gunk that can accumulate over a few decades. Cock and trip the shutter. Check out the shutter speeds, especially the slower ones. Open the camera back. Look for damage or corrosion. Check out the condition of the light seals.
But where was the door latch? The usual chrome button-shaped film door catch release wasn’t there! I pulled every knob and moved every slide and protrusion that I could find to release the film door but I just couldn’t open it. The seller was equally baffled. Most Mamiya C series TLRs have an obvious round silver catch on the top edge of the film door, which was conspicuously absent in these two models. Since the vendor was also selling a C330s with a similar film door design, I thought that I could find some leverage with technical information should I decide to take the camera home. With the seller’s permission, I took the camera from vendor to vendor looking for someone with expertise in the Mamiya C220f.
I asked four of them, including someone who looked like George Eastman himself if he were alive today, but no one could pull the sword from the stone. The fifth man was the one I was looking for. After a bit of fiddling, he discovered that by moving a spring loaded slider on the left side of the body next to the film door while depressing the film take-up spool axel knob, the film door would pop open with ease. (He later confessed that he was a camera repairman with over 20 years experience and couldn’t bear the humiliation if word got out that he couldn’t open the film door of a 35 year old camera!)
I approached the original vendor and, armed with confidence and my newfound knowledge of Mamiya TLR film doors, offered her $80 firm. Her best price was $90, but knowing that unless her next customer was profoundly familiar with Mamiya C series cameras, she would be stuck with two unsalable items. A deal was struck, and I am now the proud owner of a THIRD Mamiya TLR body and a second 80mm lens. The lens alone was worth the price!
Since my mission that day was to find 46 mm filters for my two other Mamiya TLRs, I bought a roll of Agfa Isopan ISS 200 black and white film that expired during the Johnson Administration and a roll of Kodacolor 120 film that I simply MUST expose and process. The color shift from film that is more than 30 years outdated will be a spectacle to behold, or an utter failure. I’ll have to shoot it and see for myself. While digging through bins of used filters of all colors and sizes, I bought a lens wrench, a couple of 620 film spools, and a 58mm #29 red filter for my Mamiya M645 150mm portrait lens. You never know when you will shoot a portrait of someone riddled with acne. Besides, a filter THAT red will render clear daylight skies on monochrome film practically black, which will bring out any cumulus clouds rather nicely. This filter also fits my Mamiya M645 55mm wide angle lens so I’ll have to experiment a bit, Puget Sound weather permitting.
As I was about to walk out the door, I found myself in front of a table full of Agfa Isolette viewfinder cameras. If you want the full specifications of this camera, complete with the universe of reviews written by rank amateurs, then I leave you to the Internet to continue your quest. All I can say is that the shutter appeared to open and close at 1/25, 1/50, and 1/200 second as best that my calibrated eyeballs could surmise, and the lens was still transparent. At $15, the worst that could happen was that I would have a non-functional conversation piece on my desk at my day job. This little relic of the ’50s also takes 120 format film, which saves me the step of re-rolling 120 film onto a 620 spool should I have purchased the Kodak Brownie sitting on the next table.
For less than $100, I walked out of the swap meet with a Mamiya twin lens reflex camera, a great lens, a 46mm orange filter, a 52mm R72 infrared filter for my Fuji S2 Pro digital camera, three rolls of practically worthless film, and a piece of German photographic history. I shot a roll of Ultrafine 100 Plus through my ‘new’ Mamiya C220f today and the negatives appear very printable. The film advance works as it should and the body is light-tight. I shot Fujicolor 160C film through the Agfa Isolette, so the results will be a few days forthcoming after I get it back from the processor.
All in all, a good day for someone who just can’t seem to make the great leap into the 21st century, photographically speaking. You just don’t get that kind of fun buying the latest digital gadget from a box store.
I wasn’t in the building five minutes when I came across a table sporting a pair of Mamiya twin lens reflex cameras. I asked how much the seller was asking for one of them, a well maintained C220f, like I was even interested. I already own a C330 and a model C330f. What on earth would I do with a third body? The camera included an 80mm f/2.8 blue dot lens and a strap. I would need to produce $90 cash to walk away with it.
Up to this point, I had never used either the C220f or the C330s. I performed the usual superficial inspection. Wind the film crank. Look in the viewfinder for cracks and the kind of gunk that can accumulate over a few decades. Cock and trip the shutter. Check out the shutter speeds, especially the slower ones. Open the camera back. Look for damage or corrosion. Check out the condition of the light seals.
But where was the door latch? The usual chrome button-shaped film door catch release wasn’t there! I pulled every knob and moved every slide and protrusion that I could find to release the film door but I just couldn’t open it. The seller was equally baffled. Most Mamiya C series TLRs have an obvious round silver catch on the top edge of the film door, which was conspicuously absent in these two models. Since the vendor was also selling a C330s with a similar film door design, I thought that I could find some leverage with technical information should I decide to take the camera home. With the seller’s permission, I took the camera from vendor to vendor looking for someone with expertise in the Mamiya C220f.
I asked four of them, including someone who looked like George Eastman himself if he were alive today, but no one could pull the sword from the stone. The fifth man was the one I was looking for. After a bit of fiddling, he discovered that by moving a spring loaded slider on the left side of the body next to the film door while depressing the film take-up spool axel knob, the film door would pop open with ease. (He later confessed that he was a camera repairman with over 20 years experience and couldn’t bear the humiliation if word got out that he couldn’t open the film door of a 35 year old camera!)
I approached the original vendor and, armed with confidence and my newfound knowledge of Mamiya TLR film doors, offered her $80 firm. Her best price was $90, but knowing that unless her next customer was profoundly familiar with Mamiya C series cameras, she would be stuck with two unsalable items. A deal was struck, and I am now the proud owner of a THIRD Mamiya TLR body and a second 80mm lens. The lens alone was worth the price!
Since my mission that day was to find 46 mm filters for my two other Mamiya TLRs, I bought a roll of Agfa Isopan ISS 200 black and white film that expired during the Johnson Administration and a roll of Kodacolor 120 film that I simply MUST expose and process. The color shift from film that is more than 30 years outdated will be a spectacle to behold, or an utter failure. I’ll have to shoot it and see for myself. While digging through bins of used filters of all colors and sizes, I bought a lens wrench, a couple of 620 film spools, and a 58mm #29 red filter for my Mamiya M645 150mm portrait lens. You never know when you will shoot a portrait of someone riddled with acne. Besides, a filter THAT red will render clear daylight skies on monochrome film practically black, which will bring out any cumulus clouds rather nicely. This filter also fits my Mamiya M645 55mm wide angle lens so I’ll have to experiment a bit, Puget Sound weather permitting.
As I was about to walk out the door, I found myself in front of a table full of Agfa Isolette viewfinder cameras. If you want the full specifications of this camera, complete with the universe of reviews written by rank amateurs, then I leave you to the Internet to continue your quest. All I can say is that the shutter appeared to open and close at 1/25, 1/50, and 1/200 second as best that my calibrated eyeballs could surmise, and the lens was still transparent. At $15, the worst that could happen was that I would have a non-functional conversation piece on my desk at my day job. This little relic of the ’50s also takes 120 format film, which saves me the step of re-rolling 120 film onto a 620 spool should I have purchased the Kodak Brownie sitting on the next table.
For less than $100, I walked out of the swap meet with a Mamiya twin lens reflex camera, a great lens, a 46mm orange filter, a 52mm R72 infrared filter for my Fuji S2 Pro digital camera, three rolls of practically worthless film, and a piece of German photographic history. I shot a roll of Ultrafine 100 Plus through my ‘new’ Mamiya C220f today and the negatives appear very printable. The film advance works as it should and the body is light-tight. I shot Fujicolor 160C film through the Agfa Isolette, so the results will be a few days forthcoming after I get it back from the processor.
All in all, a good day for someone who just can’t seem to make the great leap into the 21st century, photographically speaking. You just don’t get that kind of fun buying the latest digital gadget from a box store.
High Quality, Low Cost Digital Cameras
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)
HDR and The Zone System
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?
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.
