Rescuing Old Crap

Well folks, and a jolly top-o-the-morning to you!

Today's post is something that might interest those of you who have darkrooms (or even those of you who don't) . . . basically it is dealing with ancient materials.

I have no wish for this to be considered a 101 on old photographic materials - there's lots of info out there already; all I can do is present my own experiences over the years and add in some practicle titbits of advice which you can either accept as a voice of experience, or tell me to F-off in the most brusque manner . . . it is up to you!

My Favourite.
There’s Something A Bit Hipgnosis About This.
Ancient Tri-X/Ancient Tetenal TT/Grade 4

Film and paper - gosh there's a lot of it out there!

As old photographers die, their relatives shove the stuff up on Ebay at a rate of knots. Look! some of them even open the black plastic bags full of paper and photograph the paper, just so you can see what great condition it is in! 

Film! 

I find it incredible that someone wants to buy film that expired in 1999 for a new project, when they could just as easily spend a bit less and get something that is fresher and more likely to deliver PREDICTABLE results. 

Yes folks it is true, at some point down the old film route, you'll meet Mr. N. Tropy and you know what, he ain't happy. Of course that's OK if you really don't mind wasting your time and efforts, but for me, I'd rather err on the side of caution.

I've been rather taken aback recently with some first-hand experience of the dread Ilford Backing Paper Mottle, because, strangely, it is not a consistently predictable defect. 

I've had it occur on some very old film indeed (Pan F) and yet Delta 100 with the same expiry (presumably manufactured around the same time) has been absolutely fine. 

Indeed Pan F from the same batch has been fine! 

FP4+ that expired a couple of years ago - 75% of the batch it was from has been fine so far and yet I had another roll from the same batch with the mottle. 

It is frustrating, annoying, upsetting and baffling, all at the same time. 

So basically what I am saying is that before you spend whatever on 20 rolls of Ilford whatever on Ebay that expired a few years back . . think twice. You've no idea how the film has been stored, nor whether you'll get mottled . . . 

Film is fairly hermatically sealed in that foil and yet some of the explanations I have seen for it have included atmospheric conditions! Hmmmm.

But anyway, that's an aside, albeit a worrying one . . . back to the meat and two veg of this post.

Our ‘old crap’ candidates for rescue were a roll of 120 Tri-X which was at the very least 30 years old, and a box of Tentenal TT RC paper, which, according to its previous custodian was at least 25 years old. 

That's over a quarter of a century of wear and tear. 

The Tri-X was paper/foil wrappered - not plastic - there was no date on it.

Being a bit of a twat, I thought what the hell, shoved it in the Hasselblad and took it down to Dundee's whale sculpture on a bright Winter's morning; snapping away just for the sheer pleasure of hearing a shutter go off. 

I had no preconceptions about these photos, they were just for fun. 

Getting home I thought that with film that old, I'd want to use a developer with some ooomph. 

In hindsight, this was daft thinking, but I'll not digress. 

I used HC 110, Dilution B, crossed my fingers and prayed to Ansel. 

Sorry No Light Table.
A Foggye Daye In Old Dundee Towne.

What emerged out of the fixer was OK-ish. 

I say OK-ish but there were large levels of base fog and even though I'd rated the film at EI 200, the negatives were quite underexposed in places (I can probably put this down to using a newly acquired Gossen Digisix, which I was unfamiliar with). Of course the base fog was at work too, rolling in like a grey version of the famous Dundee haar. 

So I made a contact print (again on really ancient Ilford Cooltone MGRC) looked at it and thought:

"Sheesh, what's the point?!”

And I put the whole thing aside . . . for a year.

Go On, Admit It. You Would Too.

But during that year, things changed a bit. I progressed a lot as a printer, simply because the lovely chap who gave me the Tetenal paper also gave me several hundred sheets of other papers - all well old (a minimum of 20 years) - I wasn't going to just ditch it, I was going to learn how to use it!

And I did - it was a steep curve. Fresher paper gives you wonderful blacks and crisp whites (mostly) but with some of the stuff I was using I was treated to muddy-greys and safari suit whites that had been dipped in dirty washing-up water. But the key thing is that I used its shortcomings as a learning curve - indeed most of the pictures I’ve published on this ‘ere blog in recent times (and my Instagram feed) are all scans off prints made on the self-same paper.

But back to that film/developer thing. Reading Anchell and Toop's 'Film Developing Cookbook' they said that the likes of Rodinal was far less likely to increase base fog than most other developers. Hmmmm, I thought - maybe the HC wasn't the best thing after all.

So having also been given nearly 70 rolls of truly ancient film, I started using Fomadon R09 at 1+50 and it has worked very well indeed. 

I'll sometimes use HC 110 (if the film isn't truly ancient) but mostly it has been Fomadon . . . and weirdly, also Perceptol. 

The thinking behind Perceptol is that although it is a solvent developer, it can really work with negatives with a broad tonal range. If you're knocking 3 or 4 stops off a film's box speed and pumping your exposures, why risk blasting the highlights? 

I’ve found Perceptol to be excellent in these sorts of situations - I use it at the Barry Thornton approved 1+2.

That's all well and good Sheepy, but warrabootthepapeeerman?

Ah yes, paper. 

A great deal depends on how it has been stored. 

The stuff I was given, had been, I think, bought in the Middle East, transported to New Zealand and then eventually back to the UK. 

It hadn't been frozen, just standard room temperatured. 

As I said before I wasn't going to just ditch it.

Well, straight outta the box the Tetenal (and indeed 30 years old Ilford MG) hit me with a brick of disappointment.

I tried to print them both at the notional 'standard' print of Grade 2 and got nowhere; the whole Grade 2 being the prime Grade for a print, is I believe an outdated concept, or at least it certainly has been for me. 

For many years I printed and aimed for a negative that would print on Grade 2. 

Having recently reviewed a lot of these archival prints I actually ended up chucking out a few hundred. Why? 

They were flat. 

As dead as a Dodo. 

Grade 2 whilst having a lovely spread of greys, really didn't do anything for the images - it’s probably the way I take ‘em - on the other hand Grade 3 and up did. 

So, with paper as ancient as we're talking about, your minimum starting point is Grade 3 (actually Ilford recommend [if you’re using a diffusion enalrger] that you print harder anyway). 

It will give you an averagely decent print (on the whole). 

I say that because, you'll probably find some of your Ebay chancers are actually fogged. 

Weirdly fogging isn't a consistent thing either. 

I was given (about 8 years back) some Agfa MCC from around the early 2000’s. 

My initial prints on it at Grade 2 were WTF? 

EVERYTHING was dull; even the paper base was dull. 

I tried some Benzotriazol and that's didn't cure anything either. 

In a fit of pique I thought I'll try one more, but at Grade 4. 

And you know what . . . the print was lovely, as was the rest of the box of paper. 

So, old Paper . . . Grade 3 minimum and maybe even more likely Grade 4. 

Fogging on the first sheet you grab? 

Delve deeper into the stack of paper and see what happens - like the Ilford Mottle it is NOT consistent.

Grade 3
Note Exposed Edge, Top Left

What A Difference A Grade Makes.
Grade 4

Grade 4 - Exposed Edge Top Left

Grade 4 Again - Not The Best Print Though

Still Looks Dull On Grade 4

Grade 5 Is Better, However I Misaligned The Image
 - Note The Rebate Is Showing Top Right Edge -

In The Words Of Robert Carlisle:
“Aaaah, That’s Better!"

With the Tetenal my starting point was Grade 3. 

But it was a no-no. 

Not exactly dull, just lacking in a bit of that old brass band OOMPA! 

Of course it has since occured to me that with these papers being ‘Pearl’ or ‘Lustre’ or basically anything slightly matt, you’re not going to get the same blast of euphoniums that you do with a good old glossy; however this is what I have at the moment. 

So next step - Grade 4 and then 5. 

And it worked. 

Although ye olde Tri-X negatives were pretty fogged and quite dense in places, the extra blast did the trick. 

It was like a whole new Tuba section wheeling on from a side street!

So, it can be done.

Take your time, make a nice print, double fix them, bit of toning and you’ve got something that should last as well as anything from a fresh source.

What I actually like about these photos is they are imperfect. In these days of software straightening everything, there’s none of that here. Yes I have converging verticals, yes they’re a bit squinty-woo . . . but I am not software.

As an ammendum to this whole process I found this little nugget on Ilford’s website:

CAN I STILL USE MY OLD OUT OF DATE PAPER?

We do not put expiry dates on paper as there are so many factors which influence how it will perform over time, for example, papers stored in cool dry conditions will fare better than those stored under more adverse conditions. Refrigerated papers will last even longer.

A simple print test will tell you if an old box of paper is performing to standard.

Well, I’ve got that to pushing 30 years so far . . . not too bad at all and sort of bodes well for the 1960’s box of Bromesco I have been given. 

As for you dear reader, of course you will be hit with the dread grey cat in a grey room - it’s bound to happen, but if you follow what I’ve said here and print at a harder Grade, hopefully you can skirt around it.

And remember if your lovely new batch of ancient film is smelling a bit funny . . . use Rodinal (sic).

And if you can’t be arsed, don’t blame me - YUMV as they say these days.

And that as they say, is that. 

Please remember I did this for fun and the learning process. 

It’s not ‘mission critical’. 

That’s probably why I’ve just ordered some fresh boxes of MGFB.

Over and oot.

H xx

Mottley Crue

Morning folks - hope you are all feeling chipper, chopper and wearing your chaps, because Spring is coming! 
Up here in the nether-regions, the nights are starting to get lighter, as in you no longer have to shut the curtains at 3 pm.

Today's post is a tale of woe regarding the dread Ilford Mottle. 

You'll know about this, so I'll not bore you to death, however were you aware that you can sort of skirt around it, simply by changing what you photograph? 

Yeah, I sort of went WTF when I realised it too.

Regular readers will know that I have often been regaled by a certain Mr. Bruce Robbins of The Online Darkroom with regard to the fact that I "don't take landscapes with horizons". And you know what? it is true. 

Maybe I've been mottled for a long time given my propensity for having a ton of ancient film hanging around, however, taking the sort of subject matter I take, I can honestly say I've never really noticed it.

It did however come to light recently when I used a roll of Pan F that was older than Methusula . . but I'd used other rolls from the same batch and they had been fine, so imagine my surprise when examining the negatives that there was more mottle on them than a basketful of dalmation puppies! 
I know, you've all gone "Aaaahhhhhh" and cuddled yourself into your jammies and all that and are now thinking about kittens and puppies skipping through fields of daisies playing hide and seek.

Enter the CRUE - feck me, it was horrible: 

A lovely super high contrast shot of a weird graveyard beset by floating alien landers descending in their multitudes. 

Wonderful skyscapes filled with a balloon-fest! 

Sunlit walls covered with blobs of chewing gum. 

You name it, it had it in spades . . . EXCEPT for the shadows. 

You see it only seems to affect the most exposed areas, or rather, it is most apparent in the areas that have had the most exposure; namely anything even-toned like skies or water or sunlit walls. 

Anything in shadow, and even scenes that are nothing but shadow, that is, say, landscapes in woodland, or with some sort of cover, actually seemed to be OK.

My second interaction with the horror of The CRUE was a few weeks back. 

A loch that was nearly totally frozen- it was incredible. 

The ice was beautiful, the stuff that was frozen into place was beautiful. 

I had the Mamiya C330F with me, and was berrating the fact I only had the standard 80mm, but in reality this saved most of my film, because I was forced into a close-view situation rather than my choice of wider views. 

Compositions were tight and often involved homing in on areas that were not evenly toned. 

It still got me of course, ruining a few frames that I really wanted to print. 

But the one image - probably my favourite landscape picture I have ever taken, was untouched and that was because it was 'broken' enough in the lighter areas - i.e. there was enough going on to totally confuse the eye from seeing blobs. 

Plus, there was a large chunk of darkness in it. And remember a Zone III shadow, doesn't really seem to show it at all. 

Now this is all well and good saying, "Only use Ilford film to take pictures of shadow areas" - of course that's preposterous; however in my case and in the case of the older films I have (about 15 ancient, bog standard Ilford) I think I am going to have to think every time I press the shutter. 

This is a hell of a nuisance, though remember I don't take normal landscape pictures so who knows.

The thing I would say about the mottle is that it operates under no rhyme or reason. 

The HP5 (expired October 2022)  I used on the ice shots came from a batch of 10,  8 of which have been perfect. 
The Pan F came from a batch of 5; 3 of which have been perfect for such ancientness. 

Given that the rolls are foil-sealed, the only way the 'moisture' explanation can have occured is its presence in the paper during manufacture. 

But that still doesn't explain why films from the same batches, stored in exactly the same way, can turn out quite differently. 

Nor does it explain why high-toned areas are affected whilst dark-toned ones barely seem to be.

You could go out of your nut thinking about this, but what can you do?
Using film is an operation of trust. 

We trust manufacturers (and kudos to Ilford when I told them about my problems, they were nothing but BRILLIANT) - but photographing is a complex and hope-based thing at the best of times. 

You know: film badly loaded in a reel; off chemicals; bad handling etc etc, but to add to that mix the possibility that what you are using isn't up to snuff . . well . . bring on the straight-jackets.

I now have quite a stash of newer (expires 2025) film - FP4 - lots of it. Plus some  . . . cough . . . Tri-X that I got for the bargain price of £6.40 a roll (I do like it in 120) so I shall put those aside and use my older films first, but only in situations where I am lurking in the shadows, tinkering with my grusset.

Anyway, here's a few pics - the Pan F ones were processed with Fomadon R09 - a very reliable developer; the HP5 ones were developed in Pyrocat-HD  - a good combo too.

 
The icy prints were on extraordinarily old Ilford MGRC (if my box image matching abilities are correct I'd say around the year 2000). 

I simply have to print at Grade 4 with this because at anything less than that it is simply M.U.D. 

But on Grade 4 it looks good - I've got about another 75 sheets of 9.5 x 12" to use, then I'll have to start buying some!

The Alien Attack Pan F pics are extreme enlargements from the contact print, simply because I didn't want to waste any paper printing them! Please excuse the quality. Also please note I wanted to try and make something dreamy out of very ordinary scenery, so added in a deep red filter to make an already contrasty film even more contrasty!

Anyway, HP5+ first:

What appears to be 'ice granules' in some of these are in fact mottles - they're most obvious on the last pic of Neil (I accidentally fired the shutter and moved the tripod at the same time and at the wrong speed . . the streaks are Bromide Drag, but the mottling is obvious on his coat) and the one before it with the frozen, sunken jetty.

And now for Pan F Alien Attack:

Och well, them's the breaks as they say - annoying to say the least, especially when the combination of weather and sunshine and shadows is not repeatable again this year . . . . 

As an amendum to this, I shot another roll of the mottled Pan F (same batch number and expiry) and it was FINE. 
Hmmmmmmmmmmm. 
Basically the whole thing is a shit show.

Anyway, that's it - hope it doesn't affect you, but remember, if you've any doubts, get into some dense undergrowth without any sky and start tinkering with your grussets* - you know it makes sense!

That's all for now.

H xx

* You'll need to listen to Kenneth Williams' "Rambling Syd Rumpo In Concert" for this to make any sense.

Last Post

OK folks - don't spill yer coffee. 

It very nearly was The Last Post too, due to some very strange error messages on my Mac. 

It's pretty old, and have you seen the price of a new one these days? 

Anyway two days down the line and a reinstallation of the operating system, everything seems fine . . phew.

Anyway, I'll preface this post with a wise old saw from my old mate Ian 'Unter, of Mott The Hoople.

"Contrary to what various people say, this is the best possible form of music that there ever was, just this . . "

Regular readers of FB will know that I've struggled with formats over the years and this year has been the craziest courtesy of a couple of people - a certain Mr. Robbins of this parish who loaned me (amongst other things) a long-time lustable (the Mamiya Press [6x9]) and a friend at the forum who asked me whether I could reseal his Mamiya RZ (6x7) - a complete 3 lens, 3 back, AE finder etc etc kit! It is still here. I also did his OM4Ti (35mm) for him too . . . .

Sheephouse Turrets has been awash with cameras, from a Rollei Old Standard (6x6) the above two, various lenses, a new (old) Canon L2 (35mm) and a new (old) Mamiya C330F (6x6). 

It's quite bonkers - there's around 20 useable film cameras in the house and I find myself ever drawn to the old faves - my Hasseblads (6x6 and 645) and Nikons (35mm). 

Don't ask about the LF stuff (5x4") - I've enough film to last my lifetime and zero enthusiasm for lugging two and a half tons of gear anywhere at the moment.

The funny thing is, I would say it has probably been the most photographically active year of my life too, which has been great.

That has come courtesy of two things - the DCA Forum which forces me to produce something every month; it's not like they have me in a straightjacket or anything, but being nearly the ONLY ambassador for the DARK (room) ARTS, I feel I have to keep the side up. 

The other thing is The Thursday Occasional Club, where Mr. Robbins and I head out into the wilds of this 'ere neck of the woods.

It's a day of talk, laughter, great company, cameras, film, and (to me) a feeling that we're almost like the last two Neanderthals in a world of Homo Sapiens.

 

Despite the 'analog revolution' how many people do you know that use film? 

My answer to that is very very few.

Even in Brussels on holiday - a city that isn't exactly quiet - I spotted ONE Pentax ME. 

And that is it. 

Maybe we all come out at night . . I dunno, but it does feel to me that the world is getting smaller.

To this end (game) I've been thinking:

"What the fuck is going to happen to all this stuff when I pop my clogs?"

And it's not just the ever increasing 'burden' of camera stuff, it is (to my mind) THE WHOLE POINT OF DOING THIS. 

To wit:

THE PRINT

Y'see I find myself thinking a lot about how in another 20 years, I really could either be pushing up the daisies or can't be arsed to go through the lengthy and increasingly punishingly expensive process of (ahem) "traditional photographic practice".

To wit (yet again) so what happens to my 'legacy' (as it were) of decades of printing . . will I be bothered to care about it, or, on a darker note - how do the people that I leave behind, deal with it?

 

Bet you've never thought that before. 

But you will, and hopefully now you will be concerned, because you have put so much effort and skill into this whole creative effort, producing these smallish bits of time and paper which are a total reflection of your personality, that it really has to mean more in the great scheme of things than meeting an acrimonious end in a skip.

London Circa 1965.

Oh I know, photos survive - I was reminded of this recently when I uncovered a photograph of my recently departed sister with our family friend AJ. 

Maggie was about 14 and on her arm is the biggest fecking parrot you've ever seen. 

It's a family photograph and was a surprise to her daughters who had never seen it before. 

Family stuff tends to survive, albeit in an incredibly truncated version - and that is fine, because something will hopefully sail onwards. 

But creative stuff - that's a whole different kettle of fish - who wants it? More to the point, who is interested? 

Well, if you're a well-known photographer, someone somewhere is probably prepared to store it in perpetuity (and even more so if they can monetise it!)

But if you're a smalltown, Joe Soap (like me) who produces interesting (to my eyes) work that no one knows about . . . well . . the future is quite bleak. 

It's a fact, that despite all these well-meaning bits of nostalgia (like the 'return' to film and indeed LPs) the world is ever-increasingly becoming less grounded in physical stuff.

At the start of the year I thought:

I know, I'll print at 9.5 x 12" and store them in archival sleeves and that way someone at some point will think they have some worth rather than just chucking them.

But then, you're casting forward a huge burden of responsibilty on future generations, and, again, who's to say they'll be interested, or even have the space?

It's hard isn't it.

Please excuse me whilst I grab a cup of tea.

Certainly, printing at that larger size suits Medium Format.

There's no two ways about it, an 8x8" image on that size of paper screams gravitas (and also looks beautiful if you have been careful).

But the 35mm stuff . . yeah. 

Well . . . 

And so with much chin-scratching did I realise that the vast quantity of 35mm stuff I have, was destined to remain forever just a tiny, squinty thing on a contact print, which is ridiculous when you think about it!

I've got a daft number of 35mm cameras and lenses and I don't even consider myself a 35mm photographer! 

I've got thousands of 35mm images, which, whilst pretty stupid looking on a contact, surely must have meant something to me, in that I actually took a photograph of them.

The Medium and Large Format stuff is easy to deal with. The worthwhile, printable images are all too easily visible (though of course you can revisit at a later point and something might catch your eye that you didn't consider in the beginning) but 35mm stuff?

Well if you were to print everything you fancied printing, at sizes like 8x10" or even 5x7" you're still creating a VAST amount of burdeny-stuff. 

That's a new phrase btw - B-S.

It's a prickly pear isn't it man-cub?

Let me rewind a bit to a recent trip Brussels.

WTF Sheepy are you off on one again?

Well yes, y'see I discovered (well actually he's been there a few years) a most wonderful shop. 

It is called Avec Plaizier. 

You can find their Instagram here

We've been in his shop before, but this time (on a chucking wet morning) with a Canon L2/35mm LTM Nikkor around my neck and a subcutaneous feeling that there was little point in me carrying it, all of a sudden I had a revelation.

And it literally did land with a massive CLONK in my head.

Postcards

My goodness it was so obvious. 

All those years of weird pictures - print postcards. 

They're small (ostensibly 6x4" but in these metric days 10x15cm) but they're handleable in a way that even the smallest arty print isn't.

There's no bull with a postcard. 

You're not handling it with kid gloves; it's there to serve a purpose. 

Yes it will get damaged, written on and (if fulfilling its destiny) will travel somewhere and end up as a skidder under a posties shoe, or (hopefully) ultimately be pinned to a noticeboard or attached to a fridge, or even end up framed. But the thing is, it is out there, like some subversive entity, disseminating your mad view of the world and passing through the hands of others.

I was in such as fever as to be nearly breathless.

OK, back to reality and an order to place - I was determined. 

Not many places stock that size of paper, and indeed as far as I can see, my only choices are Ilford MGRC and FB and Ilford Portfolio. 

Harman don't even produce it as Kentmere; see what I mean about the world getting smaller?

Years back every manufacturer produced it. 

Biting the (expensive) bullet I ordered some Portfolio from Process Supplies (who I love by the way - a proper old-school, knowledgable company [who else would tell you that Ilfospeed is now discontinued and they're running down stocks?]). 

Incredibly with Portfolio, you're nearly 70 pence a sheet for this size. 

I will say though, never having tried it before, gosh it is good. 

It's pretty stiff and will dry relatively flat though that is dependent on relative humidity - mine developed a temporary bow on a very very wet weekend, but it returned to nearly normal after. 

The emulsion is the same as Ilford MG, this meant I could produce ad-hoc test strips with my Kentmere paper as there was no way I was cutting a sheet of this stuff up.

I also decided, seeing as I really want these small worlds to last, that I'd double fix and selenium tone them. 

Quite a lot of work for something so small, but you know what, I feel it is worth it.

Gosh, you can even get Secol postcard sleeves (and acid free rummage boxes) to protect your masterworks too.

Of course, being postcards you can print as many as you like - once you've nailed the original print, make notes on the back, and that is your reference. Store it safely if you want, but if you want to bang out 10 copies of the same thing you can easily do so. Traditional photography, is, after all, a semi-industrial process!

As a size, 10x15 is a cinch to handle. 

5x7" trays and you're laughing. 

What could be easier?

Anyway, here's a selection of some of my more, how shall we say, esoteric photographs. 

I trimmed the borders off for the scans, but for all of the actual cards, I am using a border of 5mm Left and Right, and 4.5mm Top and Bottom. 

My lovely old (gifted) Leitz easel is wonderful for this.

As this is a work in progress (and seeing as Ilford stopped printing the Postcard stuff on the back of them) I still haven't physically trialled one in the postal system yet, but I intend to. 

You get proper 'PostCard' rubber stamps and a wealth of archival inks to rub them up with - I've got one on my Christmas list.

Maybe Portfolio is too much?

It would probably be cheaper producing them with an inkjet, but I don't own one, so for the moment . . . anyway, I just like printing, so I'm not going to let a squirter spoil my fun.

I'll maybe get some Ilford MGRC and try that too and see what happens.

Anyway, I can report that to me they are a success and have a lovely uniformity to them which I've always felt was lacking in any 35mm prints I've ever made. 

It is a new way forward and I do believe I will adhere to it.

Give it a go if you can - they look (AND FEEL) really good . . honest.

Until the next time, TTFN and remember to be kind to that old man stuck up your chimney.

H xx

Close Encounters (Of The Close Kind)

Morning folks - hope you are all keeping well and positive.

Today's little ditty is about a thing that (strangely) over the years I have come to care about deeply:

Dundee's Closes and Pends.

Er, Wot? I hear you say.

Well, basically they're little lanes and cul-de-sacs in the interstitial spaces between buildings - a throw-back to times when medieval cities grew exponentially as populations increased. 

They were/are messy, tight, dark, surprising and, to my mind, utterly wonderful. 

Many cities still have theirs - I am thinking particularly of York and Chester and lots of European cities, though theirs are as nothing to here. 

Well that's not quite true actually. 

Ours might well have rivalled them all had this city not been subjected to, erm, how shall we put it politely, 'improvements'.

Tear-downs; new this and that; bolstering up; neglect; architectural laissez-faire - you know the sort of thing.

Granted, from reading the evidence, a vast amount of upgrading was required, however, to my mind, and certainly to my mind's eye, one can only imagine what this place would have been like had the medieval/post-medieval city been allowed to remain, AND we hadn't had "the most corrupt council in the UK in the 1960's". 

Oh yes, architectural gems, slums, monuments, you name it and it got pulled down

If you are in any doubts about this bold statement, just ask Brian Cox - you know, the gruff Scots actor (not the physicist). 

Brian can remember a time when this city still wore its poverty with a fierce pride and a distinct bonhomie that was as both surprising (to a newcomer to the city) as it was accepting. 

It wasn't for nothing that Jackie Leven penned the ditty "The Bars Of Dundee". I seem to remember him saying somewhere that the city's hard-drinking culture was a special, but ultimately destructive, thing, but that it had helped him out when he needed a friend.

There is quite a lot of written and photographic evidence of the old city; I actually think there's probably been more books written by Dundonians about their city than there has by anyone about anywhere else. It's that pride thing methinks.

If you are interested, there's a wonderful archive called Photopolis. The majority of the photographs were taken by Mr. Alexander Wilson with his plate camera over a period from the 1870's to 1905!

If you have leisure time, you can find them here

They are wonderful.

Anyway, back to closes and pends. 

Sadly these days, they've mostly been closed off, or left single open-ended for access, resulting in the look of the photographs below - it isn't a happy state.

Pullar's Close 1

Pullar's Close 2

These were taken in Pullar's Close.

It is literally across the road from the wonderful McManus Galleries and yet within the space of a few hundred yards you have gone from somewhere that people care deeply about (the McManus is a fine place to visit - I love it) to a place that literally nobody gives a shit about. 

Indeed, broken waste-water pipes at the back of one of the tenements overshadowing the close is resulting in a proper, medieval shit and bath water pool, the likes of which were banished from the kingdom, oooooh, at least 200 years ago!

But that's the thing - nobody cares.

The bits where the buildings have been shored up have been dealt with in a mess of security gates, razor wire, CCTV, and, perhaps the most heinous of crimes . . .  cement pointing. 

[The latter just means that because Scottish sandstone is relatively 'soft' (in stone terms not soft, but you know what I mean) and cement is inflexible and impermeable, when the stone around a cement-pointed joint wears (because of weather erosion - and it will, that is the nature of the beast) water gets into the small gaps between the pointing and the stone. 

The stone gets wet, stays wet and when a hard Winter comes, the water freezes causing ice bulges, which split and crack the stone. 

It is a natural process, but cement really hastens it along. 

These joints should have a lime pointing which is flexible and breathable. 

It is kinder to the building.

Here endeth today's lesson!]

Anyway, documenting what is left of these wonderful medieval hangovers is something of a project for me and I am thoroughly enjoying it . . . I just wish I had a time machine.

The above negatives were Delta 400 processed in Pyrocat-HD, but I think my metering was well off that day as most of them seem underexposed. I had sort of resigned myself to filing them away and forgetting about them.

However help was at hand in a bit of wayward thinking. 

I have never in my life printed anything on Grade 4 - have you? 

It never seemed necessary, and not only that, on a 'normal' negative, you'll just get pretty much soot and whitewash, so harder grade printing was filed away as a WTF's The Point thing.

However, having recently had Bruce (from The O.D.) enthuse about Wynn Bullock's Stark Tree print - a masterpiece of printing - I revisited his section in the book 'Darkroom' where he mentions using hard grade papers for underexposed negatives. 

A big 'Duuuuuuuuuuuuuur!' thunderclapped over me, of course, that's the whole point of harder grades.

I'll put my forgetfulness down to the fact that most of my negatives are perfect all the time - naturally (he said, tongue in cheek).

So, both of the above were printed on Grade 4 at very short exposures (8 seconds at f22 on the DeVere/Vivitar combo) with about 4 seconds extra for each edge and the skylight bits (which were hard sunshine) got an extra 8 seconds.

I could see, as they emerged in the developer, that they looked lovely, with a glow that made me feel quite proud.

The scans don't really do them justice, but they work as prints.

The paper was bog standard Ilford MGRC and I'll need to print them properly at some point.

The camera was the SWC/M on a monopod.

Seeing as it worked this time I also intend to go back over other underexposed negatives that I have given up on and try the same technique - it was an eye-opener.

And that as they say is that!

I've loads more stuff to come, but am still mid-decoration, so am having to balance time and ladders.

Until we next meet, be good, take care and stop feeding those seagulls.

H xx

Kung Fu Rescue Job

Morning fiends, er friends. 

This morning I am going all glasshopper again, because I was severely let down by an errant roll of film over Christmas and would like to recount the whole sorry tale.

Why Kung Fu?

Ah, the good old 1970's!

Well, if you remember the program, David Carradine always seemed to pull off the impossible no matter the odds.

I felt myself to be in a similar situation when some interesting pictures (conjecture of course - that's my opinion!) were nearly rendered null and void by weirdness.

Despite its epithet as 'Scotland's Sunniest City', weather in Dundee can be overwhelmingly ghastly at times. 

We're shielded by the Grampians from the North and West; we don't poke out into the North Sea to suffer the same banks of fog and extremes that the likes of Fife does; we're too far South and not far enough North (and coastal!) to render most snowfall null and void. 

All in all we can be incredibly grey, and when we get The Grey, we get it in spades.

Into this mix add haar (a lovely Nordic term for cold river and sea water meeting warm air and thus creating banks of weird fog) and you've got a brew made in mad weather heaven. 

You can see haar building in the middle of the Tay; it can start as a whispy white mohican on the river and the next thing you know the whole town is blanketed in chilly mist. 

In the Summer it can be (dare I say it) pleasant, however in the Winter when it has been grey for days, that chill dampness gets into every single fibre of your body. 

I call it East Coast Raw and it really is.

On the other hand, the light on the Tay can be extraordinarily beautiful. 

It was enough to anchor Joseph McKenzie here for decades, and I can quite see why - he once described the light so beautifully to me that it is worth recounting it, albeit through the filter of decades passed. 

There's a liquid silvern quality to it that is at once ethereal and distancing; with the haze and moisture of the river, distance is extended; on clear, haze-free days, distance is compressed; daylight on the river can at times act like a reflector, and if that reflection is caught by cloud it is reflected back onto the city; it is like a solar North light that evens illumination.

That's the gist of it.

The light can manifest itself at most times of day too, but especially so on a cooler morning as the sun is just rising - lovely stuff and especially so if you're using a film that lends itself to subtle greys.

Despite all this potential, this past Winter has been something else - I do believe it has rained most weekends since the start of November. 

The Grey has cemented itself in. 

It has been pitch (nearly) going to work and the same coming home. 

A ghastly, enthusiasm-sapping wind has blown constantly from every direction and all at once and in most of a lifetime of living here I reckon it was probably the most overcast Winter I have ever experienced. 

On the plus side, it was less cold than usual.

So imagine my joy when the sun came out for a brief time a month or so back - oh boy, I was skipping like a lamb. 

Me and t'missus had a lovely walk, came home, had lunch, and then I stepped out to take some photos.

You know, I love taking pictures with the Hasselblad SWC/M for a couple of really simple reasons. 

Remember when you were young and your Dad let you use the Kodak Instamatic - all you had to do was set the zone focus and press that weird oblong shutter release - Click! 

And that was it until you collected the pictures from the chemists.

Wonderful.

Uncomplicated. 

The image was all there was - no technical footery.

Well, others might disagree, but the Hasselblad Super Wide is just a simple point and shoot, albeit with one of the best lenses ever made stuck on the front.

You load your film holder, attach to camera, remove darkslide, set aperture and speed, adjust focus, squint through weirdly comforting viewfinder and Click!

You know you'll have something (often something epic) and you don't need to worry about any deficiencies in the camera.  

Everything else is operator error.

So, there I was, ready to go and chancing some new and different film - Bergger Panchro 400!

I thought I'd give it a go, just in case. 

I halved box speed because that'll usually do it with most 400 films and set off with a supremely lightweight but high quality picture making maschine.

I was ready for everything.

Ah it was brilliant - Dundee Uni was empty - no students courtesy of CV, just myself and a few old ladies walking their dogs. 

Everywhere was hard, low sun and steep, deep shadow and whilst not intending to photograph buildings, their lines were so enhanced by the light that I couldn't not do it.

An hour and a half slipped by like it was nothing. 

I was really cold, but so fired by what I was seeing that the extreme chill was meaningless.

Have you ever got yourself into one of those Photographic Zen Zones?

It is very akin to when you are improvising music with other people, or when you are writing and the characters take a hold of you and won't let you stop till they're done. 

If you've never experienced either of these, trust me, the similarities are, er, very similar.

In a PZZ, you are led by your eyes. 

Everything looks like a potential scene.

I'll add an epithet to that though, everything can also look like a potential crime-scene if you aren't careful.

You have to exercise a modicum of restraint - it's easy to blaze away, so I have one simple phrase I say to myself:

Would I print that?

If the answer is NO! move on buddy. 

It works for me.

Anyway, back to our trip into madness . . .

I used a tripod pretty much the whole way, just 'cos I wanted the best sharpness I could get; also when you're eyeballing the bubble level on a SW, having it steady before you start footering is an added advantage. I had a brilliant time.

I was so thrilled by what I'd seen that I hoofed it home in double quick time, and because the film was an unknown, decided to use Pyrocat (simply because it has been the most consistent and reliable developer for every film I have ever developed with it.)

18 mins in the developer (yes I know); a couple in a water stop; 5 mins in semi-fresh fix and a couple of washes before I got my mitts onto it.

I was so excited!

And then . . .

GAAAAARRRRRGGGHHHHHH!

A cursory examination and the whole film appeared nearly black.

I initially thought the whole film was fogged, and I had no idea how that had happened.

Obviously I was expecting some stain with Pyrocat but this was well beyond my experience of it.

That's them all sleeved below with the LED equivalent of a 60 watt bulb shining behind them.

Not only is there edge fog, there's a general massive amount of base fog over the whole film. 

Allied to this, there's also what appears (at first) to be a scratch on the emulsion (yes, I spent about half an hour minutely going over my film back . . . there was nothing sharp): on even closer examination, the scratch was actually an exposed line within the emulsion itself.

I was absolutely FIZZING.

What a total waste of time and money . . . and I had another 4 rolls of the stuff!

Denser Than A Busload Of Denseness

After I'd calmed down a bit I decided to do a contact print (because I always do a contact print for reference) and it was even more ghastly than I'd thought.

My normal exposure time for PHD negs is 32 seconds at f22 on Grade 2.

This beauty took 56 seconds at f8 on GRADE 5. 

And yes I was using speed matching with the filters.

I think that shows you that it was a tad foggy.

More Fog Than A 1940's Peasouper

I know what you're going to say - you unloaded/loaded that in full sunlight. Not so. All done in subdued light, so put that in yer pipe and smoke it.

I would normally detail all the exposures here, but I'll not waste your time - there's no point.

I was about to exit the darkroom in a total mare, but something clicked in my head and I thought feck it - why not have a go at trying to get some prints?

It was pretty 'orrible and grey outside anyway, so why not?

I've had a few grim sessions in the darkroom in my life - most of them involving underexposed negatives and stupid mistakes.

Most of the underexposure on these is actually a result of the fog interfering with things, a bit like it does in John Carpenter's masterpiece! 

There's details in them thar dark bits, but youse can't see 'em boyo.

I also had to do something that is anathema to me - CROP A NEGATIVE!

I always print full frame - why? Because I prefer to have the scene set on the VF when I take the photo and not use a judicial after-the-event-eye on things. 

No doubt it is faulty thinking from me, but that's just me.

Anyway, it was a heck of a job.

I'll usually do prints on Grade 3 and around 15 secs at f22 - Pyrocat can make timing very consistent, and the DeVere's nuclear bulb makes short work of everything.

With these puppies I was anywhere between 15 and 30 seconds at f16 on Grade 5.

It took me a while to get to that point using test strips, but once I'd dialled it in, I whipped through them quite quickly.

I had to use Grade 5 to punch through the fog - it was the only solution as far as I could see, that would give me something look-at-able.

The paper was some of the last of my Tetenal RC - already a very contrasty paper on Grade 2, so believe me, it was contrasty! I am also now using First Call's soft pack paper developer too, which I think is a variation on the much missed Agfa Neutol. 

It is very good stuff indeed, and won't go off to the same extent, it being in a pouch (I wish I could say that about myself.)

Anyway, here they are in all their tawdry glory. 

I don't mind them at all actually, strangely; I thought I'd hate them. 

It's actually made me want to try printing things softer for a while and see what happens - obviously not with these though.

Most of my negatives are on the denser side of normal, so it might be an interesting experiment.

Oh and print size was 5x7" and the image size is 120mm.

I forgot to say that over Christmas a neighbour very kindly asked "Is this any use to you?" and promptly handed me a Leitz easel over the garden wall!

I reckon its 1950's and it is an ideal size for smaller pieces of paper. 

Anyway, I am using that and it gives me wonderfully thin borders - thinner than a Spiv's 'tache - and on these prints it is just a hair over 3mm.

I print the image on the shorter end of the paper, so there's a nice big holdable bit of white at the bottom.

Not only does it make for a tactile print that is both easy to store and refer to, it also slashes your paper costs!

Onwards glasshopper.

 

Gargh 1

Why not I thought, so I made like a duck with my fingers, but didn't actually realise I'd captured myself in all my grimacing glory. Sorry if I've broke your monitor.

There's a window around the corner from this that is so severely covered with guano, I reckon it is holding the whole building up.

Gargh 2

Dundee Uni's 'Security Centre' - at all times of day it is a faceless maw waiting to capture the unwary. 

In a way it reminds me of a Stasi headquarters - innocuous enough, but they're watching you.

The guano is exquisitely set - I reckon you'd need to take a chisel to it.

Gargh 3

At some point in time, someone thought it would be a good idea to plant these palms right next to a building. 

As you can see they've gone a bit mental and are now obscuring everything. 

This being said I like it - there's an air of mystery to it.

We've a surfeit of palms around the Uni for some reason - must be because we're 'Scotland's Sunniest City'!

Gargh 4

Yes I should have cropped more judiciously and aligned my verticals better. 

It is only slightly out, but it lends a feeling of disquiet to me and I find it visually disturbing. 

Gary Winogrand always said no matter how wide the lens, try and get the left vertical correct and everything else will follow, because we scan a print from left to right (whether consciously or not).

He's bang on.

Those trees are I believe lilacs and they're rather beautiful.

Gargh 5

I had great hopes for this one - it's a bunch of Yuccas squashing themselves against a window in a mad bid to escape. 

It's in the Engineering department at the Uni if you want a butchers . . . but who wants to come to Dundee? 

Ah, you do . . well bring your mask and don't get caught.

Sadly the fog has rendered it like a Grade 0 print on nicely fogged 30 year old Multigrade  . . . with extra fog.

Gargh 6

Which brings me to my last choice. I know where this is, and I'll keep it that way. There's something about the juxtaposition of trees and concrete that I have to keep photographing it - in fact now at the start of February I've taken another 5 photos of it at differing times of day. 

It's weirdly beautiful and I wish it wasn't chuffing phogged!

This being said the phogging has leant the print something of a warmth and also an older look. 

T'missus instantly said "that looks 30's Bauhaus"', and I tend to agree with her.

The incredible sharpness and lack of distortion from the Biogon is, to me, remarkable.

And that's the end of this sorry tale.

At least I managed to rescue something - I was chanelling Caine - he helped greatly. 

When I said thank you, he just adjusted his hat and bag, gently opened the darkroom door and moved off quietly into the gathering dusk. 

I could hear his flute for a long time after.

As for Bergger. Well don't let it put you off - their Fibre paper is lovely stuff, and to be fair to them, after I contacted them and said:

Wot's this 'ere then? I've got another 4 rolls of this tosh!

they went:

Sacré bleu!

And replaced the whole lot. 

Excellent customer service.

This being said, I doubt I'll be using it again. As I explained to them, when you go to the time and effort of all this and then the medium lets you down badly then you're unlikely to try it again. It was a good job I hadn't driven 40-odd miles and walked another 12.

I had the same thing with Foma 100 Sheet film 10 years back - and I did actually drive and walk those distances, with a bleedin' Sinar F too. The results were utterly awful (for my needs) and I've never used it again.

Anyway, over and out. I'm off to rescue a Chinese Railroad Worker and his family.

"Once mighty waters hurled themselves against rock, and from those two great forces came this gentle sand."