history
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.
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.
Industrial Baltimore
February 04, 2010 - 21:34 Filed in: Assignments
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 Filed in: Gallery | Assignments
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 Filed in: Assignments | Monochrome
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 Filed in: Assignments
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.
