Showing posts with label Leitz 90mm f4 Elmar-M. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Leitz 90mm f4 Elmar-M. Show all posts

Friday, May 12, 2023

Light Relief

Morning folks - how are you doing these days?
 
Y'know, I've been prepping an epic on using outdated film, and it has taken so long that I've lost all enthusiasm for it, so, in the interests of modernity, here's a mainly text-free Fogblog. 
Oh yes, we move with the times up here.


It's Grim Up North


I've been having fun with the Leica recently and, a new revelation, 24 exposure rolls!
You know I've always hated trying to finish 36 exposures, so with 24 I am finding that I can take the whole roll with a measure of delight.

The whole thing has been a success (to me) so without further ado, the players are:

Leica M2
Letiz 90mm f4 Elmar-M (wouldn't it be fun if Leitz was actually spelled Letiz)
Canon 28mm f3.5

Of both lenses I like the Canon best, but then I am wider than I am taller if you know what I mean!

This being said the lowly Elmar-M (around £100 on current UK prices) has a renditioning all its own and can actually be incredibly sharp if you take into account the following:

You'll need to keep it really steady
Or use a small tripod
Or work in bright light.

Anyway, stuff the guff, here they are:


Leica M2, Letiz 90mm Elmar
HP5, Fomadon R09 1+25


Leica M2, Canon 28mm F3.5
HP5, Fomadon R09 1+25


Leica M2, Canon 28mm F3.5
HP5, Fomadon R09 1+25


Leica M2, Canon 28mm F3.5
HP5, Fomadon R09 1+25


Leica M2, Letiz 90mm Elmar 
HP5, Fomadon R09 1+25


Leica M2, Letiz 90mm Elmar 
HP5, Fomadon R09 1+25


They're all straight scans off the prints.

The whole lot were printed quite hard - mostly Grade 4 - but this is because I think the paper I am using is quite old and "has lost a modicum of ooompapa" (an old, technical, printer's expression from the days of yore). 

They're on 11½ x 8 ¼" a size I've never used, but is very good for 35mm. 
Oh, and it is Ilford MGRC Pearl finish by the way, developed in Adox/Agfa Neutol NE and selenium toned.

And that is it - have fun and watch out for the normal people.
H xx

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Leica Fanboy

Bold and italic and even bold italic alert

OK - I think I have probably held back long enough on this one, but it doesn't seem to be getting any better, so here goes.

Like a raw open wound, the art and hobby of photography has long been both a rich man's sport and something filled to the brim with disappointment. Really. You don't believe me? Well off you pop and have a word with yourself in that cupboard and then come back to me.
Is that better? Good.
Really, it is dead sad.
You know, when you look around you, our hobby/passion is littered with the broken dreams of:
"If only I had a such-and-such" 
and
"Oh for a Super f0.2! It would make my life so much easier" 
and
"I really want one of them . . . blah blah uses one, and I know they cost a lot of money, but if I get one of those I will take great pictures".
Does this sound familiar?
Thought so. The obsession with getting 'the best' in order to make your vision better is all too common, and a lot of the time, it doesn't even have to do with that. 
Obsessed with bragging rights a lot of photographers literally have to be seen to be carrying 'the thing', the latest and greatest, and sadly, in the case of Leitz, oldest, greatest/greatest, greatest camera and lens combo they can buy.
After all it's Leica, isn't it legendary?
Well yeah, natch, goes without saying! And the thinking seems to be that surely if you use it, some of the legend will rub off on you and you too can become a legend. Seriously - you are using a legend - ergo you are automatically a legend yourself - ergo your images are simply brilliant
Thus are Fanboys made. Like some weird form of possession, they come to eat, sleep, breath and just plain live for the marque to the point of total obsession. After all when God calls, would you want to be found wanting?
And from this come the reviews (done that myself), details, back-patting, testing, blogging, testing again and again and again.
Man, I thought I could be obsessive, but there's some real fruit-loops out there. You can find them under any picture sharing stone.
You know, there's another expression I heard recently: "All the gear, no idea".
Hmm, dontcha think it pretty much sums things up?
Really, when it comes down to it, isn't photography ALL ABOUT self expression and making your mark in the annals?
Isn't the camera JUST a means to an end to stop a moment in time?
Well I thought so, but looking around it often doesn't seem like that. 
I know I've mentioned this before, but it is like that stupid thing on Top Gear - the Cool Wall - I won't explain it as you've no doubt seen it, but basically it was a bunch of wee lads peeing up against a wall, except it was about cars - who can get the highest (fastest); who can splatter the most (biggest engine): who can miss dribbling on his shoes (bodywork) . . . you know . . . the sort of thing you thought you left behind when you were seven.
What we are seeing in photography at the moment amounts to the same thing - nothing to do with photography at all, just endless testing and re-testing, endless droning about bokeh and sharpness and just plain boring boring boring images being posted left right and centre.
I don't know about you, but it sucks the life out of my eyes, because it seems like the more money you have to spend on gear, the (mostly) more boring images the zombie photographer inside you is forcing you to take.
Goodness knows, some dullness is acceptable - it is part and parcel of the nature of the beast - but man does it get rammed down your throat, when in reality it should just have been kept under wraps. 
I suppose the ease of creating images these days has part to do with that too . . . tis a piece of cake to scan a bit of film and then show those results to the world, or upload some images to wherever, but I ask you this:
If you had a darkroom, would you truly have bothered to print them? 
Hmmmm - thought not.
It's this casual blaséness of snapping away and then parading the umpteenth picture of a pile of leaves that gets me.
Who cares?
Who's interested?
Not me.

 ***

Don't get me wrong, I love photography and I love photographing. I love seeing other people's GOOD photographs and for myself, I love seeing compositions in a viewfinder and wondering how it will look as a print or on screen, and I feel a real hunger to keep on doing that - to try and make something that is my own unique take on the world, and to maybe make people go "Gosh!"
I also love the gear - it can be seriously beautiful and is often a pinnacle of mechanical genius, and when I look around my small photographic world I see some people who are in love with photography too. They love all the things I love, and do all the things I do, but they are doing so in a relatively humble way. They're not testing or posting pictures of nothing, they are photographing their world.
I've a Sheephousian confession to make . . . I go to meetings. Wonderful, chatty, joyous affairs with maniacs like myself, all ex-Scottish Photographers. SP by the way (the original lot, not the Facebook group, or the new bunch with a website going under the same name), wasn't a camera club or anything of that ilk - it was and is a serious and utterly dedicated bunch of people who live to photograph. I can't put it in any better way.
These people exhibit, teach, create and generally pass on the baton.
Dedication is the thing.
It is really quite something.
Were I to draw a parallel, I would say it was almost like The Linked Ring, except we aren't really breaking any new ground, and we definitely aren't all moustachioed and done up to the nines in proper removable collars and brilliantine.
Nope, the one defining thing is hunger.
Even with a lifetime of photographing behind them, the need to make images and produce work is all there is. Take for instance Peter and Aase Goldsmith, a couple who have photographed their whole lives through and still in their older years are producing essays and books, prints and presentations. They live photography. Truly. Every time I meet them, there's new projects . . . whether it be a selection of prints made with their newly acquired Holga Panoramic cameras, through to wonderful handmade books, spiral bound, with pencil marks and hand annotation detailing something that was so important in their lives that they had to photograph it. One particular book was made with a knackered Leica III and a knackered Jupiter 35mm lens and it looked like nothing I had ever seen - it was exciting and beautiful and totally individualistic.
Isn't that surely the nature of photography?
To stop that 1/125th of second and permanentise it?
To say to others:
"Look at this. What do you make of that? Isn't that just an extraordinary and exciting and thrilling thing?"
To further stretch this already stretched point, last week I met Malcolm Thompson on the bus.
Malcolm is another person who has dedicated his whole life to photography, from photographing for a living through to running Studio M (a print and process studio) through to exhibiting regularly, through to teaching the craft of photography and printing at the DCA through to print sessions at same.
Dedication is the thing, because he still lives and breathes it, despite now living with Parkinson's Disease, and rather than focus on that (as most folks would) he sadly recounted that he had just sold his 5x4 as it was just taking too much out of him, and that he felt that was a real shame, but he still was in love with his Rollei SL66 and would continue using that, and that he was finding FP4 ridiculously expensive but had recently started experimenting with Fomapan. In other words, though Parkinson's is a terrible disease and is robbing Malcolm of his physicality, his photographic flame still burns as bright as anything I have ever seen.

***

I know that was a wee meander, but it is to draw a point.
Dedication, craft and a love of producing good images; a willingness to try the new, and retrench in the old if necessary, but above all the hunger to photograph the world, to inform, to present to others that which you find interesting surely has to be your whole raison d'être as a photographer.
Surely Shirley.
SHIRLEY?
Well, were I being naive I would say that is the case, however we move in strange times, and much as the same way my old hobby and love of guitar playing has been taken over by a billion marauding hordes with squidoons of cash to spend and not a clue what to do with the fucking instrument except post 'unboxing' videos on YouTube, the world of photography is sort of suffering the same fate.
Go on . . . I dare you.
YouTube.
Type 'Unboxing' and then your favourite camera.
Or the cracker . . the shutter/mirror movement/penny test.
Well?
Sad isn't it (I seem to be typing that a lot recently).
OK, I am ranting a bit now (what's new?) but I see people spending really considerable amounts of money on cameras and lenses and then going out and photographing the likes of this:





Or this:



Wait a minute, and as they used to say - Ayeee, carumba!
In the words of Aimee Mann:
"What a waste of gunpowder and sky"
Because those two 'photographs' were made with the same lens that made this:






Does that look familiar? 
Of course it does - its my old mate Ralph Gibson and the Leitz Dual Range 50mm Summicron - one of the greatest lenses ever made. A lens designed to make photographs and art and stunning images, now slapped on a digi-body and relegated to the new gladiatorial arena of 'testing'.
Look, just to over-egg the pudding, here's some stuff made with the lens that made Leitz famous - the 50mm f3.5 Elmar (obviously shoved on a digi-cam because they've cropped the proportions all wrong):





And this:





And then . . . there's this one:






Familiar?
Yep - it's me old mate HCB, and what a photograph!
It has everything in spades; tone, light, composition, timing - it is the utter antithesis of the two 'photos' above it. No lens testing here, just good ol' HCB, wandering around, waiting, waiting, then, making the likes of the above.
You see, that history is part of the problem (if you want to call it one) with the Leica -  sadly its caché and all the baggage it brings with it is so huge and almost archetypal that it is hard to get beyond it.
As a marque it has been responsible for some of the finest, most memorable, exquisite, exciting, beautiful, thoughtful and downright entertaining images EVER made, however every year I see less and less of them and more of the inane, banal, dull, bland, totally-lacking-in-vision 'testing testing 1, 2, 3' type.
When you think of what the system is capable, I think it is a fucking waste.
As an antithesis to the 'testing' pics above, look at this image made by Rax from Iceland:





I don't really need to say anything do I? It is right up there in the Leitz pantheon.
Ragnar (Rax) has a superb eye and is an all-round nice bloke to boot and if you like the above, it can be found in his superb book Faces Of The North, but the thing is, rather than standing around looking for the 'where's the leaves? testing-testing-testing' sort of image, he goes out and makes photographs. Ones you would want to hang on your wall or travel miles to see in an exhibition, and though he uses Leica I don't think he is too hung up on it - it is a tool to realise his vision, not an effet accessory.

***

Y'see (allied to the historic importance of the marque) is the Leica's perceived other-worldy qualities. There, I've said it, been there, done the worship thing, come out the other side, still in love but more aware.
There seems to be a perception that some of the magic will rub off on the user, and they'll be able to have some sort of prescient, all-seeing, magical vision bestowed upon them by the Gods of Light and Timing. That simply because Leitz lenses just 'are', anyone using one will automatically be inducted into the Leitz Hall of Fame.
In other words, simply by the act of owning a Summilux or a Summicron, YOU WILL BE GREAT.
Full stop.
No work required.
So the mania creeps in - testing central websites (you know who you are and you should be ashamed really for toting such shite where the object becomes more important than the end result); the need for the most expensive Leica objet d'art you can afford (or not). And then the hunting for subject matter (when there are photographs everywhere) and rather than training their eyes to see something that might make a decent photograph, they just go and snap at any olde shite . . . but remember . . .

It's got the glow! 
It's got the bokeh!! 
My 'Lux took this picture of some leaves by the light of one candle!!!

You know what I mean.
I do despair actually.
A photographer will do his or her best to make the most of what is available.
Granted it is wonderful to own some beautiful tools too . . . I am as bad as anyone from that point of view - my M2/Elmars/Canon set-up is a joy to me (and I've recently had the pleasure of geeing up confirmed SLR user Bruce at The Online Darkroom into enjoying using a rangefinder, and he's enjoying it because he is a photographer) but I spent my formative photographic years operating an Olympus OM10 with the standard Zuiko 50mm f1.8 (total cost in 1980, £99 . . .) and some ancient Pentax glass married with a college K1000 . . . so I was making the most of what I had available.
But more importantly, I was training myself to see.
I don't think I have got there yet, but I keep trying, and that is the thing.
Simply by acquiring something as lovely as say an M2 and a suitable lens do not a good photographer, or even a decent Leica practitioner make.
Maybe if someone had handed me a M6 and a Summilux back in day I would have gone off snapping away at uninspiring drivel too, but they didn't and that didn't happen; my hunger to produce better images than I had the week before was what kept me going, not the need to grab the best stuff I could (n't) afford.
I wanted to take photographs and I still do - that hunger still drives me, and I'll use any of my cameras to do it, but at the end of the day, I have to take photographs I am happy with, otherwise what's the point?


***

Deary me Sheephouse, you've really gone off on one haven't you?
Well yes, and far be it from me to tell you how to enjoy your hobby - after all, you have to want to aspire to something don't you - I just felt that standing back and having a look at how things are and then saying it how I see it, might put a different spin on things for people.
For my own aspirations, a DR Summicron, a nice Hasselblad and a decent Rollei are hardly cheap and cheerful acquisitions, but life is short and I feel they'll further my vision. This being said they aren't the be-all and end-all - they're fine tools for executing what I can imagine myself taking - but I can just as easily imagine myself getting good results from Ye Olde Knackered Minolta Autocord and one of my Nikon Fs.
I do know one thing though - THE IMAGE IS ALL - it is the only thing that counts.

***

Anyway, enough of me olde manne guffe - you'll see below a couple of examples of me learning my way around a lovely old gentleman.
Steady at the back . . . stop that tittering.
He's a 1934 uncoated 50mm f3.5 Elmar that I bought from Peter Loy for a very reasonable price. The history of the lens is what got me - imagine what it has seen! However it is not a lens for the faint-hearted, as I learned quickly.
You need to up the oomph.
What helped initially was the acquisition of a lovely, mint, boxed, FISON lens hood from the lovely people at Red Dot Cameras, and then the oomph was further  . . er . . oomphed by a new development regime.
Flat, low-contrast negatives are the order of the (normal) day on an uncoated Elmar . . however rate a 400 film at around EI 200 and give about 10 to 15% extra development time and you'll get some gutsy negatives that will transform it.
It still has the glow, but it also has some other character which I can't quite pin down. I love it actually. As with all Elmars I really do think they were optimised as 'People Lenses' - that is my own expression, because they tend to work best in the 4 to 12 feet range, in other words the sort of distances you'd be using to photograph people.
So there y'go, have a butchers at the photos below - they do illustrate one thing. And it's an important thing - even learning to use a new lens doesn't mean you have to take pictures of piles of leaves or monitors or dashboards or the first thing you turn your camera on - you can try and make interesting images.
Just use your head, your heart, your eyes and go out and take some fucking photographs!

Well that's crude-boy me talking . . I think it is probably more eloquently expressed by a true master - Wynn Bullock:

"The medium of photography can record not only what the eyes see, but that which the mind's eye sees as well. The camera is not only an extension of the eye, but of the brain. It can see sharper, farther, nearer, slower, faster than the eye. It can see by invisible light. It can see in the past, present, and future. Instead of using the camera only to reproduce objects, I wanted to use it to make what is invisible to the eye, visible."


Testing, Testing, 1-2-3.



Testing, Testing, 1-2-3-4

TTFN - over and out and remember that the yellow pills make your tummy feel awfully wobbly.

Monday, January 12, 2015

A Foggye Daye In Olde Dundee Towne

Morning Folks and a Very Happy New Year to you!
I am sorry yet again if you've come along expecting more Caravan Chronicles . . it hasn't happened yet . . however this is just as exciting . . possibly more so really, so without further ado, here we go.

Admit it, if you're a traditional wet process photographic printer, we've all been there. The sheer temptation of all that lovely old paper, rotting away in darkrooms long abandoned by grab and squirt photographers (don't worry, there's no digital rail coming here). 
There's TONS of it, seemingly everywhere, free (if you know someone nice); at super tempting prices on eBay or Gumtree; car boot sales; Craig's List .  . whatever . . but it's out there. 
Like you, I have found the prospect of saving a large number of quids stocking up, a very easy and tempting proposition. 
Why not?
Paper is fucking expensive (for what it is) and given you can happily consign a healthy percentage of that £90 box of Ilford Galerie to the bin as wastage, unless you are super careful, then much cheapness is a very nice way to go.

BUT . . .

You knew that was coming, didn't you. 
It is all well and good opting for this route, and for a lot of times, it can be fine, however time and again for me, one thing raises its ugly head:

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW IT HAS BEEN STORED.

Yep - it's no surprise to learn that in common with all photographic materials, temperature and light and chemical ingress, but especially temperature can affect paper. For all you know, that lovely box of 11x14 Ektalure that only cost £10 has been stored in the photographic equivalent of a blast furnace. Even worse, very few darkrooms can be considered to be kept at a consistent cool temperature - they're up and down and all over the shop.

I recently received 2 boxes of Agfa MCC from a kind friend at Scottish Photographers - nearly 100 sheets of 10x8, and 50 sheets of 9.5 x 12. Lovely!
Now Agfa MCC was a fine paper, so fine that when it died about 6 years ago, it was resurrected by Adox and is still in production.
So that's my first point - the boxes I received must be at least 6 years old.
I was delighted though - for the cost of postage I had got loads of paper to go with my already ageing stock - Benzotriazole I thought, and Online Darkroom Bruce happily supplied me some.
I tested the paper - it was sort of fine (the 9.5x12 being a lot better than the 10x8) there was some fog, so my developer was suitably Benzoed and the fog sort of dealt with, however results were and are inconsistent.
Notice the use of the words sort of .
I've done a bit of research (och well, put my feet up with a cuppa and a copy of 'The Print') and discovered that had I just read first I would have realised that adding Benzo-T brings its own problems: extended development, loss of paper speed, colouration of the print. 
It's a bit hit and miss. 
I could also have used Potassium Bromide, however I have none of that, or even a commercial fog-reducer, but again I have none of that . . . so what do I do with this wealth of paper? Well, print with it of course! So I did.

I've had the following sequence in my head for a long time - it's all fairly simple stuff and a homage to a photographic hero of mine - John Blakemore (if you've never read his 'Black and White Photography Course' book . . why not? It is one of the most strange, wonderful and informative photographic books ever written). 
All of the negatives were made with Kodak TMAX 400 and 100, and developed in Rodinal (1:25). The camera was my Leica M2 and the lens a humble 90mm f4 Elmar-M (one of the most universally disparaged of all Leitz lenses). 
I think they work. 
See you on the other side.



Sequence 1.1

Sequence 1.2

Sequence 1.3

Sequence 1.4

Sequence 1.5

Sequence 1.6


OK - that is that out of the way. 

These are all prints made by me on 10x8" fibre paper, scanned for the purposes of this at 600 Dpi and if you study them (well you don't actually need to look hard) you'll notice something about the first 5 prints . . FOG

It is entirely obvious to me, and despite the presence of the correct dilution/amount of Benzo-T in the developer, the age of the paper has rendered the highlights with a dull thud.
Indeed I got so fed up, that at the end of the session I printed print number 1.6 on some fresher and stored properly (though still ancient) Adox Vario Classic.
Prints 1.1 to 1.5 were all printed several times (and all treated with heavy bleaching in Potassium Ferricyanide and then toned in Kodak Selenium) whereas print 1.6 was a single print, with just a light toning in the Selenium.  It took approximately two thirds less time to make and has a lovely airieness about it which is devoid from the other prints.
And this I guess is my point.
What a fucking waste of man-hours those first 5 were.
I shall have to print the sequence again for storage on properly fresh paper - I have spent a number of hours and utilised printerly skills and efforts on this and all for naught really.

Old paper might seem tempting, but in reality it is probably a waste of time

(This being said my one caveat to this is that proper Graded paper lasts considerably longer than Multigrade - I have some Grade 2 Galerie that is heading for at least 8 or 9 years old, stored in the coolness of my cellar/darkroom [sounds posh . . it's a cupboard with a stone-flagged floor] and it is still really fine.)

So, before you all go crazy and buy up the languishing stocks of lovely, tempting old paper, stored in yer Uncle's Baby Belling stove or on a bookcase in his sunny living room, think twice. Unless the vendor can guarantee that is has been stored correctly, fridged or frozen or at a consistent coolness, then to be honest I wouldn't bother.  
Life is too short!
Trust me, when that lovely glistening print is exposed to the cold white light of your darkroom and daylight you'll see that there's nothing enjoyable about it . . actually, you'll realise you've wasted your time.

Indeed I recently purchased a box of Fotospeed RCVC off eBay from a guy who said it had been stored properly for a couple of years - saved myself around a tenner, and that's foggy too.

So, Caveat Emptor!
Spend a bit more if you can
Buy fresh paper and store it carefully - the manufacturers need your money. 
And you!
Yes you!
Can you really afford the time to waste? 
Nope, thought not . . 
Me neither.
Over and out.

Oh, and lest I forget - Je Suis Charlie too.

Monday, November 03, 2014

New Lands, Sleeping Bags And Big Cameras (Get your rubber trousers on - it's Part Two)

Well friends hopefully I whetted your appetite, and even if I didn't I am going to persevere with this shite simply because I have to get it all down and out of my system.
So to recap the last Blog:

Caravan Holiday.
Film Maniac with Large Camera
Lots Of Film
No Darkroom

As you can maybe tell from the above, film organisation was always going to be a problem. 
I took 8 Toyo Double Dark Slides with me, holding (obviously) 16 sheets of film, all of which I had pre-loaded in the proper dark of my darkroom. However, 4 of those sheets of film were TXP 320 from a previous load and I only wanted to use TMX 100 for consistency, so that was 2 DDS's knocked out for a start, but I took them anyway. 
My intention was to work my way through the remaining 6 (12 sheets of film) and using a recently purchased extremely very large changing bag change the film whilst there. 
And herein lay a problem.
Have you ever used a changing bag? I mean really used one as in it is all you had to use? Go on . . admit it . . you've got one, but you've never been brave enough to use it have you.
Well that was the predicament I found myself in.
Oh how I skipped out that first night to photograph. 
What a joyous time I had!
And then when I got back, had washed up and thought I must really get myself organised immediately so that I could stay on top of everything, how bouyant and enthusiastic I felt!
Ah, the innocence of youth! The naivety of the amateur!!
I had my changing bag ready.
I had my empty film box ready.
I had my rocket air blower ready to rocket.
I had my little interleaving sheets of paper ready to place over that day's batch, thereby delineating the end of the day . . .
I was good to go.

***
BOREDOM ALERT - DO NOT LISTEN TO CALMING MUSIC OR OPERATE HEAVY MACHINERY WHILST READING THIS NEXT BIT.

A brief aside into my thinking about keeping exposed film organised:
OK - it's pitch dark, or you're in your changing bag or whatever.
Stack you darkslides in the bag (before zipping it) in the order in which you will be placing the sheets in the box. A lot of people have several boxes for N, N+1, N-1 exposures etc, however I feel that it would be too easy to lose place of which image is which so don't use that method.
So say you have the following:

Darkslide 1:
TMX 100/1 (from your notes you know this to be a good exposure)
TMX 100/2 (from your notes, you weren't really totally happy with the composition on this one and you aren't really bothered about it)

Darkslide 2:
TMX 100/3 (from your notes you know this to be a good exposure)
TMX 100/4 (from your notes, a possibly difficult exposure - shadows placed on ZIII, but highlights well beyond ZVII)

[Now imagine the card inner sleeve that holds film in the plastic or foil envelope in a box of sheet film (Ilford ones are best here, because they are a folded sheet, not two separate sheets like a lot of other manufacturers)  - open that wide, put [in my case] 4 sheets of exposed film in, and then lay an interleaving sheet on top - that says to you in the dark that below the sheet is the first day's film.
Just as a double check, you have written on the sheet the day AND ALSO THE ORDER IN WHICH THE SHEETS ARE IN THAT PARTICULAR STACK (Obviously you can't read this in the dark, however if you get a bit lost you can remove it, seal the box and have a skeg at what you've done).]

Anyway, say in example to the above, you want to process TMX 100/2 first just to get a feel for correct development times. Unload that sheet first, place the film in the cardboard, fold it back down over the sheet, then say you want to process TMX 100 1 & 3 next. Unload and place in the card in the same way, then TMX 100/4 - that's the one which requires the most attention so you are going to process that last. Unload it last and place it at the top of the stack and place the interleaving paper on top of that.
Before you started, you stuck a piece of masking tape on the outside of the box with Day and Stacking info on too and also that the sheets are the first day's shooting.
So your strip of tape should read something like:

28/9/14 (Top - next to paper) TMX 100/4, 100/3, 100/1, 100/2 (Bottom)

You're going to ask why I've placed them in that order?
Go on, you are aren't you?
Good.
Well it's because it is easier to take a sheet from the bottom of a stack of film in my experience. Simple as that.

For however many days you are shooting (in my case 5) just repeat the above. And just because it is hard knowing what you are doing in the dark, you can always tell which way up the stack is, because the sheet of film on the bottom feels like film and not that sheet of paper you placed on top of the last sheet which is the top of the stack.

I hope this makes sense. It is a bit convoluted, however it worked very well for me apart from one cock-up in the stacking department, but I'll put that down to blind panic as detailed below.

***
IT'S OK - NO NEED TO CRY ANYMORE - DANGER IS PAST
 GO ON. GO AND GET YOURSELF A STIFF DRINK - YOU DESERVE IT.

Anyway where was I?
Oh yeah, bouyed up on a wonderful film-exposing evening, that's where I was!
All too ready to don a knotted hanky and raise a jaunty salute to anyone who might be passing.
I got everything organised as detailed above and with some trepidation and shaking hands (after all I had invested time and artistic effort into making these exposures) managed to unload my DDS's and get the film organised and sealed away into the box.
BTW - the picture of the tree from the last post, was from that initial batch of film.
Bongo I thought, job done (though it was getting a tad warm and sweaty in the bag [I am going to call it that from now on - The Bag - there, I've done it.])
So I pulled my arms out of The Bag, turned the light on, unzipped The Bag and got everything out. I was chuffed - it had seemed to work well.
I got my Rocket blower (essential if you ask me) and jetted out any bits of dust from the DDS's and organised them for loading, placed them back in The Bag alongside a box of lovely TMX 100.
Curiously I turned the light off (!), zipped both zips on The Bag, shoved my arms up the sleeves and prepared to load. 
And herein lies the problem with changing bags and DDS's - SWEAT
After I'd shoved my hands in I realised that for some unknown reason I was ramping up more moisture than a half-backs' Jock Strap. Are there such things as breathable changing bags? 
I've looked around and can't find them, but man it needs it, that and a small framework inside to stop the fabric draping itself over your hands at the drop of every hat. I know there's the Harrison tents, however one has only to look at the retail prices of these to realise that whilst they look totally the part, they are beyond the means of most enthusiastic amateurs . . ie ME.
In The Bag, the more frustrated I got with the cloth falling everywhere, the harder my fingers sweated. It was terrible - so much so that guiding the film into the slots in the DDS resulted in the film actually sticking to the plastic of the holders . . what a fckecking palava! 
It was a real nightmare and took me about four times longer than loading film normally takes. Allied to this, I didn't really know whether I'd ruined the film by getting moisture on the emulsion and said emulsion getting ruined by all the shite that was going on. 
I cannot emphasise enough how truly awful the situation was.
Several times the film stuck tight only a handful of millimeters into the slots in the holder and I had to scrabble with fingernails and swearing to free it, only to try loading it again, for the same thing to happen. 
The air was blue, and Ali wondered what the hell was going on.
After every sheet loaded, I put the film back into the box, took my soaking wet hands and arms out of the sleeves, unzipped The Bag and looked at the sheets of condensation which had formed inside The Bag's  material - it was like a greenhouse window on a frosty morning!
I then had to rocket air this to dissipate it, so I could carry on. 
I have never experienced anything like it, but I got there (in the end). 
And you know what, I knew I had to change tack, simply couldn't go through the torture again, so after a bit of thinking, the following two loads were made in conditions which most people would laugh at - they involved the following:

A bed.
A changing bag
Twilight/Night
A sleeping bag

Yep, I waited till it was pretty dark.
Shut the curtains (they were pretty much non-light-tight though).
Put The Bag, folded, on the bed (as a clean and easily made dust-free area . . well it was better than using a mattress that goodness knows how many people had slept in wasn't it!)
Laid out my film box and holders.
Draped a LARGE ex-army sleeping bag over the top.
And proceeded to unload exposed film and reload unexposed film into the holders underneath this makeshift tent. 
I had no idea whether the film would be affected, but I couldn't go back to The Bag alone. 
And you know what? It bloody worked! 
The sleeping bag was capacious enough to not keep draping itself all over my hands, but also of the right size to provide a nice light-tight seal where my arms entered underneath it. 
So all I can say, is if you ever find yourself without a darkroom, but with say a large coat and a darkened room, it is entirely possible to load and unload film. Of course you have to be careful, but it can be done! 


Schneider 90mm f8 Super Angulon, TMX 100, 1+25 Rodinal, Fotospeed RCVC
Hackneyed Cliché or Valid Artistic Statement?
Personally I'd go with the former


You have no idea how hard it was to make the above photograph. 
It was a cold and misty morning, my camera (lenses and ground glass) was doing its best to act as a condenser for the vast tracts of atmosphere surrounding me, as were my glasses and loupe. It was damn near impossible to see anything. Allied to this I knew there were several sheets of film in the holders that were totally fecked. However, needs must when the devil drives and this was one of those moments. 
Knowing that the film was possibly in a ruinous condition didn't help, but I had to use it - I couldn't just consign it to the junked sheets of history pile. 
And how do you think it has turned out?
Obviously apart from the composition (which is total shite) not half bad.
You can see there's a small mark about a quarter of the way up the print on the left side . . guess what . . that's it. For all my sweating and the film sticking tight, that was the only damage out of four sheets of film. 
It just goes to show that modern film is remarkably robust stuff. Bomb-proof is what I'd say. 
Oh and before I go, I'll also add that the combination of TMX 100 and 1:25 Rodinal doesn't get spoken about much, however it is as near grainless as a Warburton's bread factory!
Anyway, on that note, till next time I'll love you and leave you. 
It's deep into the lands of processing next time, so make sure you've got some fresh rubber trousers on, because I attempt something with regard to paper grading that is both foolish and interesting. However I'll try and make it a bit more interesting too and not all techie
TTFN and thanks for reading.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

New Lands, Sleeping Bags And Big Cameras (Oh No! . . . Part One?)

Greetings folks - well, I am (just about) finally back in the land of crazed blogs, comparisons of the action of photons on sensitized materials, expensive pieces of glass, mechanical marvels and all round madness . . . yes, you've guessed it, it's photography time again! And not only that, I recently buried myself so thoroughly in all things photographic, that I have only just been discovered by a rescue party who were off looking for a lost tribe along the deepest, darkest of wilds of the East Coasts of Scotland . . .
Oh yes, hard, tough, epic, but above all fun.
I'll blame my wife, because it was her idea whispered into my drunken brain that made us book a caravan at one of our favourite locations as our main holiday of the year, and boy was it perfect.


Leica M2, 90mm f4 Elmar, TMX 100, Rodinal 1+25
Ali in a quiet forest on a wet day - we were surrounded by a sea of mist. 
Leica M2, 90mm f4 Elmar, TMX 100, Rodinal 1+25
Line across centre of photograph courtesy Epson 'Perfection' V300 - GRRRRR!


When I started planning it, I got all excited like a small puppy and instantly thought "Oh boy! Oh boy!! 6x7, 6x6, 5x4, 35mm!!! Woof Wooof Woooof" and ran round and round in a circle until I was sick on the carpet, which was pretty stupid really. After I'd calmed down, and after a bit more thought I realised I had to make a stand against myself and rather than be led by the excitement of different formats, just take a leaf from my own words and limit myself. 
So I did.
Two formats only: 5x4" and 35mm - and even this was limited further with regard to lens choice: 90mm f8 Super Angulon and 203mm f7.7 Ektar (for the large stuff) and (God bless him - there he is at the back hauling his bones up that hill) The Right Reverend Ernst Leitz 90mm f4 Elmar-M (for the 35mm stuff).

I'll admit that I did take the 50mm 1.8 Canon Serenar too as back-up, after all it is scary heading off into the unknown without being prepared, and I suppose were I being really hair-shirted I could have slimmed it down even further from there, but I wanted to have some fun too - it wasn't meant to be all about self-flagellation, so the cat 'o' nine tails was safely left at home and after giving myself a stern talking to, I got everything prepared.
Ancilliary-wise all I carried besides the cameras and lenses, were 8 Double Dark Slides, a cable release and (boxes!! of) film, a light meter (Gossen Lunasix 3S), my ancient Gitzo Series 2 Reporter and a similarly ancient Leitz table-top tripod, oh and a large changing bag.
I would say this was fairly modest in real terms - I've often travelled with a LOT more, however, because of the need for bulky 5x4 film boxes (Kodak) for putting all the billions of sheets of film I was planning on exposing in, the whole lot took up THREE camera bags! 
But what did a little set-back like that matter to me - fortunately on this holiday there was only going to be the two of us as Alec Turnips has now started University and is in the midst of the longest hedonistic drinking spree you could ever imagine, so we had room and plenty of it in our venerable old Honda.
So, everything packed, we left with thoughts of coming back a week later to a smoking, vomit-stained pit in the ground . . and more on this later. 
And that was us, out first holiday properly alone for 18 years - it was exciting! 
And where did we go? 
Well, you know I am going to keep it to myself (selfish eh?) simply because I don't see the point in telling the world where it is. If you recognise it fine, well done, if you don't, well I guess holidays are what you make of them. To be honest I don't think anyone at mine or Ali's work would regard a caravan as an exciting prospect, but that's where they're wrong. A modern static caravan can be a luxurious experience and you haven't lived until you have experienced a full-on rain storm whilst being cosied up inside one. Remember when you were young, and it was pouring and your Mum or Dad let you put something like an old raincoat over your head and stand outside whilst thick, thundery droplets splattered off the top of it in loud torrents? Well, it is like that, except you are centrally heated (this IS Scotland after all) and can sit and read and drink tea and look smugly at the rivulets tearing off to eternity. It is (as they say in Yorkshire) Chuffin' Fantastic, and I dare the naysayers to experience it for themselves. 
There, that's my propaganda on behalf of the Caravan Club over and done with.


The Goode Captain Sheephouse on a particularly brutal day - it had been raining for nearly 24 hours straight.
Sometimes only the craziest garments will do - this poncho hides not just me, but a camera bag, Leica M2, 90mm Elmar and Leitz table-top tripod.


So where do we go from here? Well, to be honest, there's a lot more writing to be done, and the whole trip has to be cobbled together from snippets of crazed memories, drunken haze, the pleasures of quiet countryside, un-nerving experiences, rain storms, mist, curry and books!
So although I know you're thinking "not another of those crazy posts that spread over weeks and weeks and are dull dull dull", well, yeah I suppose it could well be. Sorry about that, but you know what? I'm going to read it, infact I've got a feed to my work so I can read it there too, because folks (and you'll either get this or you won't) I found the whole thing damn exciting - I was well out of my comfort zone of having a darkroom to do all the dark stuff and was operating on the edge of guerilla photography, loading sheets of 5x4 in semi-dark rooms, rolls of 35mm in sopping wet conditions, and the worst of the lot, trying to keep a logical track of the (ahem) 20 sheets of TMX 100 I did actually expose - that was a challenge all of its own . . but more of that to come. 
So do yourself a favour, don't get all excited about the forthcoming blogs and rush around like a puppy and be sick on the carpet . . you might well get yourself banned for life. No, take it easy, put your feet up and let your intrepid Captain do all the hard work for you!
So, just to whet your appetite (and hopefully keep you interested enough to follow up on this initial part) here's an example of what you can do with a 60 year old lens, a film that seems a bit 'Knightrider' these days, and a developer that is older than all of us . . . . .
Oh, and some exhausted Selenium toner too.

Kodak 203mm Ektar, TMX 100, 1+25 Rodinal, Fotospeed RCVC
Kodak 203mm Ektar, TMX 100, 1+25 Rodinal, Exhausted Selenium Toner (Unknown Dilution).
Fotospeed RCVC paper, Selective Pot-Ferry bleaching.

Interesting eh?
Basically I FUBAR'd the development and was left with a well-exposed, but fairly thin negative, and then a flashbulb went off!
Hadn't I read in 'The Negative' that you could expand the upper Zones of a negative by giving it a bath in Selenium? 
Yes I had, and so I did! 
And it worked. 
It's a weird technique, but the dark bits of the negative get even darker before your very eyes, resulting in a very nice 'vintage' expanded feel. The light bits (of the negative) remain the same, so you end up with lovely rich blacks and an expanded upper range - gorgeous.
The print was made on some ancient Fotospeed resin coated, developed in some even more ancient Moersch Eco tickled up with some Benzotriazole (thanks Bruce!) to overcome any fogginess in the paper. Grade was Grade 3 and I further enhanced the contrast by using a brush and Pot-Ferry bleaching on the highlights.
As a certain dead meercat used to say 'Simples!'
The one thing I would say about this negative is that tiny individual pine needles are totally visible and sharp, oh and that this was a limb off an Oak that must have been over 1000 years old - the old Kodak Ektar is an extraordinary lens and one of the real bargains in LF photography.

And so folks, on that note, I shall love you and leave you till next time - a dark and ghastly tale of poor contact sheets, sweat, changing bags and dust, oh and a real terrifying experience which had your author packing his Wista in double quick time and legging it as a quiet Scottish gloam descended on the land. Till then . . . TTFN.