Showing posts with label Landscape Photography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Landscape Photography. Show all posts

Saturday, September 05, 2020

Ritual Landscape

Good morning to you!

Whizz, Thrub, Boing Boing - better get those Cormthrusters adjusted, because Ye Olde Sheephouse Time Machine is in operation again.

Oh yes, none of this modern stuff - we're heading back to a time when peat-smoke and rush-lights were all the rage.
When life hung by a thread.
When magic was real and something as mundane as a small wood could bring you out in cold sweats of awe.
Got yourself buckled in yet?
Good.
Off we go!

I've battled with myself about publishing this, because, whilst the place is relatively well-known, it also isn't, and to be honest I'd rather keep it that way.
So all I can say is if you do recognise it, keep it to yourself; and if you don't well, you can find similar - dig deep into your local topology; study maps and stuff - as my recent find of what I believe to be two unmarked (on maps) Neolithic (? - certainly incredibly old) way markers proves (well, it does to me) if you open your eyes and start to strip away 'modernity', you'll open up your Inner Ancient.
The world is littered with sites waiting to be found - pre-history stretches back further than the imagination.
They're out there, possibly waiting to be photographed - or (more likely in this world of Trip Advisor Recommended Mass Tourism) wanting to be appreciated quietly - always ask permission - that's what I did here.

Once again I am also in debt to a camera - the Hasselblad SWC/M and also to the lady called Florence who assembled them back in the '80's.
I can't define what it is, but to my eyes, photographic magic happens within it.
That's not me saying there's anything special about the photos I've taken with it either; it is more that in every film I process from it, light can be transformed into something both true and ethereal all at the same time.
Oh, and I'm also indebted to Ilford's FP4.
After years of trying this and trying that, I keep coming back to it. Whilst it isn't always ideal in Scotland - especially in the Winter - if you're using a tripod you should be fine.
There's just something about it - a balance, that I can't define, however HP5+ and Delta do look very different (when they're printed) as does all the Kodak etc etc stuff.
So, FP4 it was.

I felt I had something special to my eyes when I was taking them.








Reviewing and prepping this blog a few weeks later, I am going to go all wishy-washy on you and dedicate these photographs to the memory of my old mentor Joseph McKenzie.
Way back, and before Big Stoppers were ever even dreamed of, he encouraged me to make longer exposures of rocks n'stuff - I am not sure they were ever really successful tho'. 
They were inspired by the 'new' stuff I was seeing by John Blakemore! Gosh 40-odd years ago! I'll dedicate this to John too - he was groundbreaking and every landscape photographer, whether they know it or not, is indebted to him,
And not only to John, but also (someone I believe to have been an influence on him) Wynn Bullock who deliberately exacerbated the time/motion of long exposures and is about the first I can find who did it deliberately.
So this is dedicated to Wynn too!

Anyway, back to the main drag.
There I was (son dropped off for a very early shift) whizzing through the early-dawn, quiet lanes, with hope in my heart and a smattering of (steady . . .) excitement.
It's a weird feeling, because (and I don't know about you, but it happens to me all the time) when you get to where you're going, you almost feel like turning around and heading home. Numerous doubts creep in - the biggest for me, is does it feel right?
It doesn't have to just be about the environment - though that can influence things a lot.
It's more:

Is my heart in this? 

AM I UP FOR IT?

Without a doubt, it is self-doubt.
I could whine on about the confidence-sapping of a tiny fat-boy, by a few teachers (it's a big thing!).
I could tell you that I've doubted every single creative thing I have ever done.
It is real, and a total pain in the arse.
However, sometimes you just have to have a stern word with yourself, muster the energies and get moving.
And that's what I did. I got myself out of the car, donned super-chunkers (for muddy conditions), cleared my mind, and appreciated that I was on the edge of a place that oozed something.

It was around dawn and the cut where I was, was still smothered in a deep gloam - Mother Nature's Big Stopper as it were.
It was really pushing the abilities of the Gossen Lunasix 3S - a supremely capable low-light meter . . Some of these readings were heading to minus 2 EV.
Hardly the most ideal of situations, especially with a film as slow as I was using.





Film #66/74
FP4+ EI 80
1. 2 --> 4 Seconds f16 ZIII - Hyperfocal
2. 4 --> 7 Seconds f16 ZIII - Hyperfocal
3. 4 --> 10 Seconds f16 ZIII - Hyperfocal
4. 30 Seconds --> 2 Minutes 25 Seconds f16 ZIII 
5. 8 --> 20 Seconds f11 ZIII
6. 15 --> 55 Seconds f11 ZIII - Votive
7. 15 --> 55 Seconds f11 ZIII
8. 1 Minute --> 6 Minutes f11 ZIII !!
9. 6 --> 10 Seconds f16 ZIII
10. 4 --> 8 Seconds f8 ZIII
11. 4 --> 10 Seconds f8 ZIII 
12. 5 --> 16 Seconds f16 ZIII River

Developed in Pyrocat-HD 5+5+500ml 22℃ - Usual Agitation to 15 minutes - Stand to 18 Minutes and 30 Seconds.

As you can see from the above exposure record, these were really long times, and as such you have to reduce every single movement to nil.

How D'ya Do Zat Zen?

Well, it's actually really hard - I've no idea how Michael Kenna does some of his night exposure stuff, because wind always comes into play. 
The camera will always move no matter how tightly constrained. 
Don't believe me? 
Put your camera on a tripod and just watch it - it can be very alarming.
So with that a factor, you really need to cinch things down tight.
I use a very small (4 inch) Kaiser locking cable release, as it doesn't blow around too much if it is windy, and you can actually lock the end of it into the SW's body with the crank. 
The tripod was my beloved CF Gitzo series 3 (GT3530S).
The head is an OTT Arca B1 PMF - it was really reasonably priced when I bought it and locks like a bulldog on a postman's leg.
I've an Arca plate (though solid the screw for attaching to the camera isn't really recommended!) and this is attached to a Hasselblad QR plate. It means I can swap the two 'Blads around quite simply. The Hasselblad QR system is mechanically simple and effective.
And that's it - sounds a bit over the top I agree, but it is as solid as I can get things.

In case you are wondering, the ZIII mentioned above, is in reality a bit of a borrow from The Zone System, however these aren't true Zone System-based photographs, but I believe I can operate like this in my own way. 
Basically I get the lowest shadow reading I can get from my light meter, and then reduce the exposure by 2 stops - so say I have measured 1 second at f8, I am turning that into ¼ of a second at f8 - this gives some cause a effect to the shadows. Were I to leave it at 1 second at f8 the shadows would be rendered mid-grey. 
But this is like teaching your Grandmother to suck eggs - you know all this stuff already!
I also don't shoot at box speed - with FP4 rather than EI/ISO 125 I'll use EI 80 - effectively almost adding another stop of extra exposure too - this is something I got from a Barry Thornton book, and I just blithely accepted it - now I begin to wonder why. 
I do think maybe, what with Barry using his BT 2 bath (a good developer, but ultimately lacking in contrast - that's been the case for me and Bruce from The Online Darkroom) whether he was compensating for that to get a bit of guts in the negatives. 
I'll try some stuff at box speed and see what happens!

Exposures of these times, unless you're operating a Zone System expansion and contraction methodology with regard to exposure and development, can be rendered fairly useless by blanket development with a standard developer over a whole roll of film. 
There's just way too much variation
Thankfully, Pyrocat-HD has been a total boon - it smooths out any highlight burn-out, but still brings substance to the shadows. 
Whilst I should mix my own, I don't and have been using the premix from Wet Plate Supplies - you can find it here - it isn't cheap, but it really does last very well and you'll get roughly 20 rolls of 120 developed per 100ml kit.
And the beauty of it, is that you can standardise your development time for all the films you use - for me I can develop FP4+, HP5+, SFX, Delta's 100 and 400, Kodak films (though they've priced themselves into a corner these days) and anything else I can think of with a standard regime.
Here it is.
21 or 22 ℃; constant agitation (gentle) for the first 30 seconds; then 4 inversions (or twiddles with the Patterson twiddler) every minute; to usually 14 minutes; one last agitation; then leave till 18 minutes.
I wouldn't recommend it with tray processing for sheet film (they'd just find a skeleton hunched over the trays) but I think my times seem to be around the average ballpark of other users.
Give it a go and tell them I sent you.
It gives me a negative that is a cinch to print.

Back to the main drag - I was so excited when I saw the developed negatives that the next day I actually printed the whole roll
I have never done that in my life.
Paper was the 5x7" Agfa MCC fibre-based paper I mentioned recently. 
Some of the prints seem to be slightly out of focus - this could be the effect of the PVD on my eyes vs. the grain focusers - it's really hard work! 
Hopefully it'll improve soon and apologies to all you sharpness nuts - please bear in mind the actual image size is only a tiddler - around 4½ inches square, so it isn't actually covering the side of a building - and the effect on small paper is fine and pleasantly viewable.

Anyway, get your druid gowns or woad or full body-tatts on.
Please don't go all Celtic-brother on me though - this is a Pictish site.
As you can see, remarkably, after millenia of use, it still means something to people.
I find that heartening.
Thankfully there were no dirty campers, dogs, camp fires or beer . . 
It was just me, the Mother and a dawn-light that made me want to cry.
But there was none of that namby-pamby stuff going on - the Time Machine was only there for the briefest of windows . . . I had work to do!


Ritual Landscape 1

Ritual Landscape 2

Ritual Landscape 3

Ritual Landscape 4

Ritual Landscape 5

Ritual Landscape 6

Ritual Landscape 7

Ritual Landscape 8

Ritual Landscape 9

Ritual Landscape 10

Ritual Landscape 11

Ritual Landscape 12

Well, that's it. I know there's a couple of them that don't cut the mustard but on the whole as an exploration I feel they work.

My favourite is without a doubt Frame 12, however the print this is scanned from isn't entirely sharp and neither is the negative, though it is sharper than the print.
I'll put it down to my gorilla-like grip on the cable release - I didn't lock it, just gripped and prayed, giving the tiniest of movements to the camera . .  . amplify that by 16 seconds and you get the drift.

Despite that, to me the overall impression is one of light and I dunno, hope and peace too.
I think that carries it through any technical deficiencies. 
The print looks lovely by the way.

As before, these were developed in an ancient but fresh mixing of Kodak Polymax (still got loads left too) stopped in Kodak stop and fixed in First Call's soft-pack fixer - which I believe to be based on a Agfa formula - it's a very sensible bit of packaging for those of us who aren't printing every day. They were lightly toned (1-2 minutes) in a weakish solution of Kodak Selenium and air-dried (with clothes pegs holding them) from an ancient retractable caravan clothes line (which I inherited along with the house).
I still find myself muttering (as I carry a tray full of prints and water out of the darkroom and into the bathroom):

"I'll bet Ansel never had to wash his prints in a bath"

Ah the delights of a guerilla darkroom!

And that's it for this time.

I also have to say that I am going to have a wee break from writing this, as, apart from a bit of colour exploration, I am completely up-to-date in detailing everything. 
But aside from that, the PVD is really getting to me and rendering everything quite difficult, from taking photos (it's really hard to see aperture markings!), to printing, to even writing this. 

So, give it a few weeks or so and I'll see how I go - it's amazing how something so seemingly inconsequential (and commonplace - the optician's own words) can have such a large effect on one's life, but it is doing so.

Anyway, until the next time, go on, get some paper maps out along with a nice mug of beer and have an explore in your head, and then go and find some parts of this ancient landscape we're all surrounded by and record them - you never know, the Earth Spirit might just be kind to you.

Beam me up Scotchman.











Thursday, May 28, 2015

Frankenstein's Hasselblad - Big Boys' Prints

OK - you know me by now - I print on a regular basis.
I've printed tons and tons and it was my ambition once to be a 'Phine-(ph)Art' Printer, so, I do know how to print and I think I can do it well enough.
I've got my own scabby darkroom, and a beautiful DeVere 504 to hand, a selection of lenses and a knowledge of toning and archival processing.
Right, that's that out of the way.
Can I say, that in all my years of printing, I've never had the pleasure of dealing with negatives as fine as those I made last week with Vic. Despite the shortcomings of the knob behind the camera, the lens has made something 'other' of the light to my eyes.
Someone once said a Hasselblad was nothing more than a light-tight box where magic happened, and far be it from me to be all gushing and that (though obviously I can be because this is my little kingdom) . . . I have to agree.
The Hasselblad magic being created by none other than the Zeiss lens - a 60mm CB Distagon.
I do have one other Zeiss lens - it's the 1965 Tessar on my Rollei T and whilst it is a super lens, that has grown with me, it is left behind by the Distagon.
You read about such things, but it really does seem to be critically sharp at pretty much all apertures, which I find amazing - I mean, you've read about such things, but have you ever actually encountered them?
I haven't really, not to a massive extent. The sharpest lenses I own are the old pre-Ai self-compensating Micro-Nikkor, the Kodak 203mm Ektar and the late-model Schneider 90mm Super-Angulon. I'll add that my pre-Ai 50mm f1.4 Nikkor is no slouch either . . . it's just that the Distagon has something else.

OK - this is a shite scan, and impossible to evaluate on screen, however the picture of the staircase (below) - that was shot at f4 - the stair and rust and brick are as sharp as a razor and the whole thing has a pleasing three-dimensionality that I find very satisfying. Although not obvious from the contact, the picture of the drainpipe has tiny cobwebs rendered in prefect clarity - the brickwork is so touchable you'd bark your knuckles on it if you weren't careful! Behind the roundabout, there's a sign on a gate - you can read every word and it is a tiny patch of negative. The puddle was rendered with such atmosphere that I was astonished - really.
Despite the uninspiring nature of the photographs, I was knocked out to say the least.
                                                                                                                 





Now this was the first film I put through Vic, and I haven't followed my own advice and gone and made pictures . . I've sort of done a bit of testing . . however, I'll forgive myself as I was caught up in the excitement of using a nice new camera . . .
Film was HP5, rated at EI 250 ('cos that's how I like it) developed in 1+50 Rodinal at 20 Centigrade for 15 minutes.
Crisp. That's what I'll say . . crisp!


I was SO excited after developing the first film on the Saturday, that I was up and at 'em at 5.30 AM on the Sunday, despite having had a fair helping of Woods Old Navy rum.
My destination?
Wormit! A wonderful little place across the river from Dundee. You can get onto some of the tidal flats of the river Tay there, though, I would say operate cautiously - what looks like firm sand will suck you and your tripod down before you know it - you have to be careful. Anyway, I was, and despite the chill and my runny eyes and nose, was of the mindset, "Well, you've got a professional tool, so go and make the most of it."
My few initial frames were so-so - I was disappointed - the large and ruinous fisherman's hut Ali and I had discovered 20-odd years back was now shut up tight (plus I placed the stonework on Zone VI, which was too much).
Och well, never mind, those beds of seaweed looked interesting.
As can be seen from frames 4 and 5 (second column from left, working up the way) the sun was a big problem and although not too obvious in the viewfinder, it was enough to render the negatives unusable, so I mooched around a bit more, and slowly made my way back to the carpark.
Nice interesting lone rock?
Bad use of DOF
. . . and then . . .
The Groins!
These wonderful remnants of a pier were utterly covered in seaweed. Goodness knows how old they are, but the tides and weather have had their way and rendered them into vestiges of man's attempt to bend nature to his will . . .
. . . and as every caveman knows, the Mother will not be changed.
So taken with them was I, that I was nearly sucked down by quicksand, and before I knew it, had used the final 5 frames.
Gosh that was quick and a wonderful experience.
I sauntered back to the car satisfied, giddy with the light and in awe of my camera.

So, arriving home and pumping myself up with a pot of tea, I leapt into the darkroom, loaded my tank and set to.
My agitation is as per Agfa's original recommendations and it works very well - this works for every film you process in Rodinal!.

A little Sh-Sh-Sheephouse aside: 
Agitation is an important thing with Rodinal - a lot of people seem to think that sloshing developer around all willy-nilly will do a fine job, but such blatant carelessness WILL result in heavier grain - trust me . . . I've done it and published the pamphlet. So, to correctly agitate Rodinal, start off with 1 minute of constant, but very gentle agitation, and then only invert your tank ONCE and GENTLY every 30 seconds till the end of the recommended development time. This came from an old Rodinal pamphlet I have somewhere, except they call inverting 'tilting' - it's the same thing. The timings on the pamphlet are pretty much spot-on even when you over-expose a bit, being a nice balance of minimal base fog and decent contrast.
Here's the pamphlet as a JPG:


Now, being that Rodinal stopped being produced years back, what I am using these days is R09 One Shot - it is marketed as being identical to Rodinal, and regarding development times it is, apart from one thing. On the side of the bottle of R09, the time for HP5 is listed as 8 minutes, at 1+25.
There is no time for 1+50.
Now given that all the other times on my Agfa pamphlet and the side of the bottle ARE IDENTICAL, I am actually wondering whether the R09/HP5 times are a typo?
Whatever, I chose to develop my EI 250 HP5 in 1+50 for 15 minutes at 20 centigrade, and to be honest, I would challenge a fine-grain developer to render scenes as nicely as that combo. You can trust me on this - I've developed a few HP5's at that dilution/timing/temperature and they've all been fine-o!
Back on with the plan


TMAX 100 Sheephouse?

Did I hear you say TMAX 100??

Yes, we did.

Well what about it?

Er, how does it look, what is it like?

It's a great combo.
This TMX 100, died in November 2013 and has been kept in the Sheephouse mortuary for lost films since then (OK . . it's a fridge . . ) so I rated it at EI 50 and processed in R09 1+50, for 15 mins at 20 Centigrade.
Agitation as per usual.





When I inspected the results, there was one word on my lips. WOW. I was knocked out again - this was the look I had been after for years. All those years of trying different formats and arsing around - I had finally got there, which just goes to show that my gut-instinct as a young whipper-snapper back in the 80's had been correct.
When everything was dry, I gathered the two rolls of negatives and made my two contacts and then had to wait out a whole week before I could dedicate an afternoon to printing.

THE SESSION.
Regular readers will know that I love printing, and that my darkroom is space-challenged to say the least - pics of it here - the maximum print size I can use is 9.5 x 12". There simply isn't the space for trays any larger, which is annoying . . however, I've gotten over it.
These prints I felt deserved to be printed on the largest paper I have - some 10 year old Agfa MCC Fibre-based stuff. It is great paper, but being so ancient has lot at least a Grade or two, so I have to print it on Grade 4 (100 Magenta) to get anything approaching decent, unmuddy results. And it is to this end that I have been using it - pointless keeping to just in case, it'll only get worse.
The prints were developed in Fotospeed developer, stopped in Kodak indicator stop bath, and fixed in Ilfofix and then toned in Kodak selenium.
And at last I can honestly say that I have negatives that do justice to the incredible resolution of the gnarly old Vivitar 100mm VHE lens, which I believe is actually (possibly) a Leitz Focotar II, though I can't confirm this. Whatever, it's a GREAT lens and I was a lucky lad to get it.
Anyway, enough o' me shite - let the prints do the talking . . 
Oh, and can I just say, my scanner cannot handle 9.5 x 12" paper, so my lovely 1" wide borders have been trimmed by the fecking thing . . you'll have to use your imagination . . . 

Dundee Docks - May 2015
                 

Scrapyard - Dundee May 2015


To be honest I could have printed all five frames of the pier, but time ran out.



Wormit, May 2015




Wormit, May 2015




Wormit And Tay Bridge, May 2015


And that, as they say, is that. Please let me know if you think I am deluded in my impression of my new camera - I don't think so, but one never can tell.
TTFN - and remember They Boil Them For Twenty Of Their Minutes, Then They Smash Them All To Bits!

Sunday, May 17, 2015

V for Victor (Frankenstein's Hasselblad)

OK folks - 'scuse the rather strange title - I was going to call it "Channeling Fay Godwin", but decided against it . . and why? Well I rather like the above . . oh . .  and I've also bought a Hasselblad.
I know, you're weeping and clutching your heads and saying:
'No Sheephouse! Not another fecking camera . . . '
Well folks I make no excuses.
However I will switch on the Corm-Thrusters and whisk you back in time . . .
Back . . . Back . . . to A Time!
A Time when the Iron Lady ruled the country and your humble, lonesome writer stumbled out of the Art College doors with a degree in his hand and the words "Shit - I've got to make a living!" being spat from his ugly gob.
A Time when your hero would stand and stare at Zenza Bronicas in Jessops window, thinking, if only I had one of them, things would be different.
A Time when the word Hasselblad was whispered into his ear at night by the ghosts of those old photographic legends, desparate to see another lover of silver-based photography take to the international stage.
But sadly, the truth will wring your withers, for, rather than being asked to print exhibition folios for all sorts of well-known photographers (such was my ambition), rather than striding the hills of his chosen country photographing light and land (I could truly see myself doing it) and being poorer than a church rat, your hapless Sheephouse blundered deeply into the mire that is unrewarding but paid employment, and with that, his ambitions and love of the monochrome print were carefully filed away, until a chance conversation with his brother and the love and encouragement from his wife Ali brought the young photographer back out of his cave and into the light of day again, dusting him down and setting him on a path that has led to (amongst other things) this blog.
It's all about film.
It's all about printing.
It's all about the print as a physical, tangible, exquisite reflection of the briefest of moments of light captured for posterity.

I'll not bar any holds - I have too many cameras now - even medium format ones:
Rolleiflex T (broken - possibly repairable)
Minolta Autocord (working, knackered and seen better days)
Koni Omega Rapid 100 (perfect, fully serviced, working condition, but never gelled with)

So why on earth do I need another one?
 Well, like I say, it's that young photographer's fault, because I always wanted one, but never had the money, and then never had the inclination. Now, however, with my fervour for making the most of the light whilst I still can see something I want one.
Or shall I say I wanted one.
Real bad.
It was like that itch inside your plaster-cast when you were 14.
It had to be scratched, but like all good things it took time to get to it.
Time and saving.
Och, all right, and a little pauchling here and there.
No excuses - I've been a saver all my life, but sometimes you have to weigh in the old calculations and realise that (in my case) you're not getting any younger and are you really prepared to wait another year to save up for it, when even now the prices on these things are clmbing.
So pauchling it was and a chunk saved by me and now a payback to the fund I borrowed it from.
But is it worth it?
Hell yes!
It's exciting. This is the second most large amount of money I have ever spent on myself (not including the car and the mortgage). The largest was a custom built Paul Reed Smith Custom 24 guitar back in 1990. It has proved to be a fine instrument and also a fine investment having approximately tripled its value in that short 25 years.
But enough of my spending - you want to know about the 'Blad or the Hassy . . or in my case, VICTOR for that is the cameras new name, or me being me, just plain VIC.
Well I studied and studied and I sort of knew what I wanted - a nice 503CXi or 503CW. The 501CMs (the last incarnation of the Classic 500 Series) were way out of my league. I felt that a newer body would be the way to go and then maybe economise and get a slightly old C series lens.
This went arse over tit when I found a nice, boxed 500CM body on ebay with a 'make an offer' price. It had been regularly serviced and was last checked over by Hasselblad UK in March of this year. It was sounding good and didn't look hammered, so I made an offer, which was accepted. On speaking to the vendor I got the history of VIC. The vendor bought a 500CM in 1980, and then VIC from Robert White's in 1985 (£550 for the body alone!) and then, when they came out, a 503CX.
VIC remained as a second back-up body but stopped being regularly used in about 2004.
The vendor is a professional, so it was important to him to keep his gear in tip-top shape, and that's what he did. He's now moved over completely to digital so the old gear is going, hence my offer of £320 was accepted. The camera is in nice condition. yes it has been used, but it is smooth.
I am delighted.


VIC and his nest (non-matching)


Nice and clean


Un-Hammered


Very Tidy


As for the lens - well this was a thorny dilemma.
I knew now I could afford a lightly better lens so set myself on something from the CF range. These were introduced in the 1980's and featured a few changes (like moving from Synchro Compur to Prontor shutters).
I decided that having made oodles of square photographs with a standard 75mm lens on my Rollei T, something new was needed so opted to move into the world of Wide Angle MF, hence my choice of the venerable 50mm Distagon (non-FLE version).
This lens tends to get disparaged, however how can one deny these two photographs, both made with one.











So, some bidding and winning on eBay and the lens arrived - my goodness it was beautiful and big and heavy and virtually as new.



Coor!


COOOR!


Ooh, that's luverly innit?


CWOOOOOR!!!!!!!


However as soon as I opened the mint Hasselblad bubble I knew something was up - indeed my nose told me so. The Leica Sniff Test never lies. This lens was pristine, but it had fungus - shite - I got my torch and had a butchers and there it was on the rear element.


ARRGGHHHHHH!

AAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!


Haze and fungus and an internal smear!
Was I annoyed - too bloody right and let this be a caution to all of you purchasing lenses off the internet. It might look mint and beautiful, but unless you can get a guarantee that it has been inspected internally, I would approach with caution!
I am becoming something of a fungal expert these days, so I will repeat again - sniff yer purchases - it's amazing what it will show. Yes, with older gear there will be some smell, but fungus is noticeably smellier - you can't miss it.
Anyway, the vendor was hugely apologetic - indeed he was very decent about it . . so, lens returned . . where did that leave me?
Well, in search of a new lens of course!
TBH the 50 Distagon felt really heavy, so that sort of gelled my thinking and I thought, well how about just using a 60mm Distagon for the moment. it's equivalent to a 35mm lens on a 35mm camera. The Distagon isn't as heavy in the 60mm form and is slightly less large . . .
The only problem I found was that the 60mm Distagons out there were expensive or hammered. I couldn't afford a newer CFi version, so it would have to be a CF. Given that these could be dating from the 1980's and would maybe have seen who knows what sort of life, I was a bit flumoxed. Then I read about CB lenses - a short-lived line (from 1997 to 2001) that never took off. According to the Zeiss literature, optically the 60mm was the same as the older CF and the newer CFi except it lacked full automation with an electronic camera. It still had improved baffelling, improved lens mount, smoother focus, identical glass, identical coating and was assembled in Germany on the same production line that produced the now famed Super Achromat! And yet, the line was regarded as 'cheap' and 'prosumer' - probably named as such by people who didn't compare the two Zeiss sheets for the CB and CF - both attached. 
Anyway, I looked around, and found one. £449 from Mifsuds! That was awful cheap considering Teamwork were selling one for over £700. So I badgered them, hauranged them, wanted desparately to know the condition, but was assured that they were super-picky in their grading so E++ could be relied on. Suitably calmed, I ordered it. And they were right.
It's still a heavy lens, but there is nothing cheap about it at all - the world looks beautiful through it, the focus is incredibly smooth, and everything works well from the DOF preview slider, through to the EV link (why do people complain about Hasselblad EV links on lenses? - using EV is about the easiest way of using a camera). The front of the lens is a 'stay black' material (carbon fibre?) which means it stays black when using filters, and the shutter has a really nice even buzz to it.
So that was another problem out of the way - what next? Ah yeah . . film backs!
I had initially thought I would go down the 645 route and chose a A16 back (16 frames on one roll of 120), however all the ones I saw were dog-eared and battered . . . so hunting around again, I came across a nice 'later' back (with the dark slide holder) non-matching body and insert with a 6 month guarantee at Ffordes, so I got that (£125) and whilst I was there, a nice condition UV Filter (£15) a Tripod Quick Coupler (£20) .. oh and a Bubble Level (£29 - always wanted one, even without a Hasselblad - they're so cute and useful). 
So suitably armed and checked and everything seemed to be OK, working together as it should.
Next step was to go and take some photographs . . 
Aha . . but I'm not going to let you off that easily - you thought I'd put it all in here didn't you! 
Well, nope - next time you'll see them, because, truth be told, this is current stuff and I haven't been out with the camera yet (well I have now, but nothing printed).
Anyway . . here he is. VIC - Frankenstein's Hasselblad.







TTFN - nuts, whole hazelnuts, Sheephouse takes them and he covers them with chocolate!

Saturday, March 08, 2014

La Pasión!

Morning folks - it has been quite a while hasn't it. What have you been up to? Hopefully making the most of the terrible weather to make some images rather than huddling down in your caves and muttering.
Well, today's post made me jump from my bed at 4.45AM, so something must have fired me up . . .
And you know what, it has . . . and the more I think about it the more my blood boils and the more agitated I become.
What might this be?
The price of commodities?
The terrible injustices of Syria?
Bruce Forsyth?
Nope . . none of them.
I'll tell you in a minute - honest, I will.

Regular readers will well know that I have extolled the virtues of a book called simply "Darkroom", published oodles ago by Ralph Gibson's long-defunct Lustrum Press. Well, contained within it's pages is an article by one of my favourite photographers, Mr. Wynn Bullock.
You've heard of him, right?
If not, and before we go any further I shall direct you in the direction of his website, curated and owned by his family:


His photographs are fluid and cool; incredibly rich in detail and tone; thought-provoking and evocative. But above all else, they contain a secret ingredient - Passion.
It flows out of his images like water down a Glen. It is, as they say in some parts, as plain as the nose on your face.
I am not going to go into a lengthy diatribe about his technical prowess or compositional skills, instead I am going to point you in the direction of a statement of his, written as plainly as, er . . . the nose on your face . .
Ready?
Here goes:

"In the popular magazines I see photographs by some of the best technicians in the world, but these are usually the worst pictures I've ever seen because they have little sense of tone or balance. Tone, balance and other visual senses are all part of 'eye' training. If one has a keen sense of what is needed in a picture, one has to know how to get it. But if you know a lot of technique, and don't have a sense of direction, the technique is useless. Picture sense only comes from the development of one's own faculties. Except to a limited degree it can't be learned from books or teachers. nature, from whence all things come, cannot be packaged in neat little academic boxes to be opened as needed."

Common sense and an impassioned plea from a man who made photographs better than any of us could ever hope to take.
It's a statement that has distilled in my mind for quite a number of years, and it has forced me to leap from my bed, brew a bucket of tea and get typing . . so it must mean something!

OK you're saying - he's off on one again; well I suppose I am, but what has got my goat?
Well folks, remember when you were at school and there was always some sort of exclusive elite who were never touched by anything, were always good at sports and always had girls hanging off them?
Remember how they were drawn together like flies 'round sherbet?
Well, it happens in photographic circles too.
There they are. Look, over there . . a bunch of mostly middle-aged men.
It looks like some sort of an exclusive club, full of chummy mates who are parading around with some of the most expensive photographic gear in the world!
Look, they're smirking at you and I, us plain-Jane boring and ordinary 'photographers' with our dogs and donkey-carts of old and knackered Rolleis and Wistas and Mamiya Press cameras and Koni-Omegas.
Look . . . they're pointing! They're tittering!

Well, whilst not quite like that, I can't help feeling that at its heart, it really is, and I really don't know why, because as far as I can see there's nothing being produced that wouldn't be perfectly at home on a 1970's chocolate box.
I truly feel that I am going to get a lot of flack for this, but I am on one now, so I'll keep going.
Let's get one of them over and see what they have to say.

Oi!
You!!
Yes, you over there.
That's right, the one in the specially-designed-for-photographers Olive Green Paramo jacket.
Yes you . . . Landscape Photographer . . come 'ere!

Now don't get me wrong - I have absolutely nothing against Landscape Photographers, because you see, at heart, I am one of them.
Right back to my earliest photographic stumblings, carefully tutored by Mr. Joseph McKenzie, I took baby-steps, toted a Mamiya C330S on a tripod and photographed the landscape.
I made images, lovingly, of the riverbank where I used to live. I processed them carefully, I printed them large and archivally on Ilford Galerie. I spotted the prints and mounted them beautifully
Remember, this was back in the 1980's when such activities were niche to say the least (well at least in Britain they were . . .and Scotland? . . . . don't get me started).
My degree show consisted of a hell of a lot of landscapes and to a man they interested nobody.
But it was in my heart. I got, as Mr. James Brown has been known to sing, The Feeling.
I would stand outside Jessops window gazing longingly at Zenza Bronicas, thinking to myself, if only I had one I could become the photographer I want to be. I was as desperate to get my hands on a Hasselblad as anything. I wanted to wander long miles and photograph the wonder and beauty of nature. But I didn't. I ended up drifting into music retail and it is only now, thinking about it and having the leisure time to practice it, that my feelings about Landscape Photography are re-surfacing again, like an itch that never quite got scratched.
But in that intervening 30-odd years a lot has changed - nowadays all I see pretty much are landscape photographs . .
They're everywhere, they're legion. People are interested.
They've got their own printed magazines like Outdoor Photography. There are numerous online magazines. There's articles everywhere about how to take a great landscape photograph. There are competitions, like Landscape Photographer Of The Year. There are oodles of workshops and seminars and trips here, there and everywhere.
And it goes on.
It's never been more popular.
And yet?
Yet?

And, here I raise my head above the parapet and see who's shooting . . it has truly never been more shite.
OK, that's me damned, never to be accepted into that club by my peers.
Honestly 95.999% of modern Landscape Photography is truly terrible.
And as if that wasn't bad enough, it is dull.
Dull beyond the dullest of fat-laden bowls of dirty washing-up water.
But why should that be given there are so many people practicing it?
Well (and here I get radical again) it has its roots in a couple of things, but the most damning of them has to be complete visual laziness and . . . here comes the big one . . absolutely no feeling for the landscape whatsoever.
What a revelation. After all aren't those smug looking guys and gals standing over there going out and capturing the light for us?
Aren't they working the light?
Look he's got a complete set of Lee Filters, so he must be a landscape photographer!
She's got a Linhof Technorama, she must be a Landscape Photographer!
They've got a Phase One Digital Back mounted on an Ebony and are using Schneider Fine Art Lenses, surely they're Landscape Photographers!
Surely? They're certainly buying equipment like they are, because, remember, only the best equipment will help you make the Ultimate Landscape Photograph..
It gets worse - there are people who have the GPS co-ordinates of Ansel Adams tripod holes and go and photograph the same scenes with the same gear! The same thing happens with Joe Cornish - his followers are legion and obsessive. Bill Schwab? Michael Kenna? Yep they've all got their scene-groupies. Photographers who will slavishly follow their leaders without having a clue as to why the original photographer made their image in the first place.
You have to feel it, because Landscape is all about reacting to two things.
You think I am going to say light don't you.
'Working the Light' . . I would dearly love to meet whoever came up with that and give them a good thump.
It's shite.
You react to the place, and then you react to what that place is making you feel and how you think you can capture that feeling - if light comes into play all well and good, but it is perfectly acceptable to make a fantastic landscape photograph without mist inversions or dramatic clouds.
Landscape is all about feeling and atmosphere.
You're like an Edwardian Curator, heading off to distant lands and bringing back all sorts of exotica, except you are bringing back images, and those images are your images, your reaction to the land and how it made you feel.
And I am sorry to say, but if they look like Joes' or Michaels' or Charlies' then they are bogus.
Here's some great examples - all random and all off the net AND all from landscape photographers . . Spot the difference - it's Glen Etive and Buachaille Etive Mor:







They're decent images, but there's simply no originality or feeling.
There are four separate photographers involved here (one of them incredibly well-known) who should know better. Maybe they've not seen each others images, but then this is a connected world . . . . 
I've often wondered how it would be if Photographer A, met Photographer B whilst Photographer C and a busload of acolytes were trooping towards the same spot at the same time. 
It's pre-dawn and they're only going to get one shot at 'working the light'
Would there be a Battle Royale? Ebonys at dawn? Spot meters converted into laser-lances and men in darkcloth capes doing Kung Fu moves . . .
You can sort of imagine it can't you!
I think the original photo I ever saw made of this scene from this spot was by Colin Prior back in the late '80's and then Charlie Waite, but here it is cropping up with supreme regularity all over the shop. 
Surely, surely one person has said, I know, I'll do it, but differently. 
But no . . at least not that I have ever seen. 
Sadly, I almost think it is too late.
I look at them. I see technique, but you know what, I see little passion. They're as clinical as a rectal examination.
Compare them with possibly one of my favourite photographs from the largely unlauded these days, but hugely influential British photographer Fay Godwin:


Fay Godwin – Markerstone On The Old London To Harlech Road, 1976


To my mind a photograph so utterly packed with feeling that I think it would be hard to better it - it is laced with visual harmony, feeling and balance - sorry it is such a terrible scan though.
And seeing as I mentioned Wynn earlier on, here's a favourite by him too:



Wynn Bullock - Erosion, 1959


Again, the eagle-eyed amongst you might notice there is a total absence of dramatic skies or smokey water. It's art. 
It's passion.
It's skill and an innate reaction to the land and a careful balancing of tone and spatial relationships.
In other words, it is all HIS OWN. 
His vision and his feelings. 
A purity which is rare. 
No bullshit, no bells and whistles, just honest Passion and The Feeling.
You can read a wonderful account of the making of this photographer here:


I'll remove my soapbox now and leave you to it . . I really could have whined on for hours, but then it would get dull, but just do me a favour will you. If you go out and try to take some Landscape Photographs, please please please, before you do anything, just take your time. 
Sit a bit and listen quietly. 
Have a think. 
Try and feel the atmosphere of the place.
And then, maybe, try and make an image that is all yours.

This wouldn't be FB if I wasn't writing about my own photography too, so here goes.
I still dont think I am anywhere near being the Landscape Photographer I want to be, but I am trying hard and listening to my feelings. The below were made on 5x4 film (FP4+) and developed in HC 110 Dilution H.
The gear was incredibly lowly . . an ancient and battered Sinar F, an old 150mm Symmar-S and and even older 90mm Angulon. The tripod is about a 1960's Linhof Twin Shank, and the head an ancient and rock solid Gitzo Series 5, which genuinly did come from the British Museum. The dark cloth was two tee shirts, and my loupe a linen tester. It was lugged in an old Deuter 25 ltr rucksack!
The cost of my tripod, which can easily manage an 11" x 14" camera, was approximately half the cost of a rooty-toot Paramo Landscape Photographers Dark Cloth . . in other words around £50
If you have the feeling my friends you don't need a massive amount of expensive gear and you really don't need to join an exclusive club to make images that satisfy you.



Permafrost



The Haunted Bridge


The above aren't great, but I think I have captured a feeling, and that is what matters (to me).
As for the soapbox, I know it all reads like sour grapes . . it isn't, I just suppose I just expect more in such a visually 'sophisticated' world. 
Anyway, enuff zee nuff, over and out for now. Take care