Showing posts with label Mamiya C330F. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mamiya C330F. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

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.


Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,



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:


Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,



Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,



Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,



Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,



Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,


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:


Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,



Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,



Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,



Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,



Ilford Mottle,Mamiya C330F,Mamiya Sekor-S 80mm,Pyrocat-HD,Fomadon R09 1+50,© Phil Rogers,Dundee,

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.

Wednesday, February 01, 2017

Small Finds And Bigger Questions


I've waxed long about the influence and guiding a certain Mr. Joseph McKenzie had on me choosing to 'do' photography, but I'll take this opportunity to describe it in a bit more detail (if you can be bothered reading) and further what I might have gleaned from the whole thing.

This might well seem rather narcissistic, but you know, it's not every day that one can say that they've stumbled upon some gold is it? 
Well, I wouldn't call this stumbling, but I would say that it was an interesting re-find. You see, all those (36!) years ago, when it got wrapped up into a square of mucho-mucho-acidic paper towel, I think I did have some realisation of its worth. Nowadays, given that Joe died a couple of years back, it's worth is far more.
You see, I have a genuine Joe McKenzie negative. 
Of me. 
But then everyone had them - all my compadres on that "Introduction To Photography" course in those far-gone days were given their negatives too. 
I've often wondered what happened to them? 
Are they still wrapped in bits of acidic paper towel and tucked away somewhere never to see the light of day? 
Have they gone to the landfill of life?
Me? 
Oh yes, as I said, I still have mine - but how many can still say that? 

So a genuine Joe McKenzie negative - given that he is only now being lauded as the "Father Of Modern Scottish Photography", what's it worth in real terms? He's left one of the largest and most complete archives of any photographer, so is it just another bit of stuff to add to the pile, and, interestingly, is it a McKenzie?
Y'see, whilst it is of me, and whilst Joe pressed the cable release, and relaxed the sitter in front of a room full of other students, the man who set up the lights, the camera, the tripod and processed the film, was Sandy, Joe's erstwhile darkroom assistant. 
So at the end of the day, whose negative is it? 
It is an interesting question isn't it. 
Where does the technician begin and end, and where does the photographer start?
This negative, well, it's a bit of a dog's dinner from the moralistic point of view isn't it.
A mongrel negative as it were . . .
Ruff Ruff Ruff!!!
So, that's the introduction, and here's the offending article - what do you reckon - half sloth, half dachsund?





Like I've said, it was a re-find. 
I'd filed that scabby bit of paper towel in an old colour print envelope alongside some baby negatives of myself that I'd found many many centuries ago, and about 10 years back re-found it and filed it away in some lovely archival negative sleeves.
I knew I'd print it one day, and thought that a very (as in last month) recent negative of gnarly olde photo-bod me, would contrast nicely with smooth, baby-faced, innocent me.

So what's the relevance then Sheepy? Where are you going with all this guff?

Well, interesting turn of phrase, but a good question - y'see, I don't think I'd ever have dreamed when I signed up for Joe's course, that:

A. -  I'd find it as darn interesting and absorbing as I did.

and

B. - That I'd still be pursuing 'analog' (sic) excellence a whole lifetime later.

I've grown from those seeds that were sown on that afternoon. 
Joe became a sort of friend at college, and I might not have seen him in the 25-odd years until he died (indeed the last time I did see him it was a flurry of Happy Huzzah's and a well-wishing for having started fulltime employment) but I still feel that friendship counted. 
I never waxed mournfully when he died - Joe's staunch Catholicism was enough to render such words as meaningless - and I've never gone on about 'us', but I can still hear his ascerbic (but truthful) and humorous comments about life and the establishment and power; photography and music and poetry.
And I didn't attend his funeral either. I dislike such things, but I like to think in some small way he would have understood.
You see, we got on him and I for all we were as alike as chalk and cheese; he admired my abilities as a 'proto-musician' (sic) and I admired his abilities as a humanist and educator and photographer.
And seriously, sometimes, just sometimes, when I am in the dark and printing, I can sense (call me fanciful if you like) his presence, and that's maybe just down to my choices and my approach which largely mirrors his own -after all it isn't every day that you get to spend a huge amount of time learning from a Master Craftsman is it?
But that's what I did.
And I know! - I was incredibly lucky.


I guess what I am trying to say, is that one man's kindness and advice and care (and he was a big-hearted man - acutely aware of all the waifs and strays [students] that came under his tutorage) can influence one in ways not obvious at the time. 
Be careful with your life-choices - they can fly like cheerful sparrows or fall like rain. 
Joe was kind; he was a good man who believed in helping to elevate people.
And I guess, that whilst FB isn't an all singing and dancing 'do this, then do that' photoblog, some of his good will, giving and influence has worked away at me and I find I really enjoy putting nuggets of practical advice in amongst the shite and whether anyone gains anything from them or not, they're still, to quote Harry "Out There". . .
So, 36 years on - what now? Well, I print better nowadays and I can certainly take a better photograph . . . but I still would love to have the lustrous hair and un-lined fizog that I had then.

What am I talking about?

Erm, this:



Sarge, it's a . . it's a . . .


OK - stop tittering at the back. 
Of course it's A BLOKE. it's just that he looks a bit, how shall we say, feminine.
Those were the days when I was wearing Boots grey/black eye-shadow (for the Pete Way, solid and steaming chic look). My hair hadn't really been chopped since the Paul Weller incident, and indeed that was the start of my whole DIY haircut ethic.
Being objective now, I would say I look like a member of Girlschool (the NWOBHM band) circa 1980 . .
This was taken in 1981, and I was not quite 20 years old.
The flash was snooted and it was taken in one of the studios on the ground floor of DOJCA.
The thing I have really noticed is the quality of the image.
The film is Tri-X (Kodak 6043) developed in D76.
The camera?
Ah yes . . the leatherette house-brick with a lens - a Mamiya C330F with a bog standard 80mm.
Nuthin' fancy I think is what they say, but the quality?
Sterling.
We used Mamiyas for all MF work - I well remember the rut in my shoulder from carrying a canvas Nikon bag laden with a C330F - they were sturdy and almost unbreakable though, so that was why they were chosen. And like I say, nothing wrong with the quality of image at all.

Anyway, bring on the FFD button, 'cause we're scooting to the 21st Century.


The Nut In The Yard - Semi-Self Portrait With Rollei.


Yes, I know, it is hardly flattering, but that was a 4 second exposure in a gloomy twilight. it was taken in my backyard with the Hasselblad and 60mm Distagon (hence the massive legs!).
I had one frame left after all those chair pictures and I was determined to use it, so it was in, and out with the Gitzo, a rough squint at the focus screen, and a quick meter reading. I placed the exposure on Zone VI (for white skin) and for reciprocity added a couple of seconds and got 4 seconds at f5.6.
I then went and grabbed the Rollei, got a stick, beat Alec Turnips out of his room, screwed the cable release into the socket, pressed the mirror-lock-up lever and told him what to do.
The reason I look manic is because I was determined to be still for 4 seconds.
It sort of worked.
Quite a contrast to the preceding photograph though.
Ali says I look so much like my Mum it is unreal(ly weird).

Anyway, it was developed in Pyrocat 1+1+100 and printed on some ancient Fotospeed RC, as was the previous portrait.

Portraits are funny things, being formalised slices of time when done like this. You're not quite sure what will turn out. 
In Joe/Sandy's I can see a quiet lad from a rural background just moved (again) to the big smoke and maybe hopeful of pursuing an artistically satisfying course in life. 
In mine, I see a bit of a nut - 30 years of 9-5 but not having to have made any living at all from following artistic endevours. I can be creative me without thinking about the bottom-line and even though it's never got me anywhere, I can publish FB with impertitude and am FREE TO BE ME
Snap, print, write, strum, draw, whatever. 
Jack Of All Trades. 
Of course a supportive family helps and I have mine - Ali has been a solid and inspirational source and has never once questioned my pursuing of artistic endevours, no matter how seemingly trite, or flighty and inconsequential they are. 
You can't say fairer than that can you?

So, that's this bunch of narcissism over and done with - I had to get it up here though - like I say, that negative raises some interesting moral questions, and, like I said, it's not every day one can say one owns a negative made by a legend is it?
There'll be less navel-gazing next time - not sure what it'll be about, but I'll try and make it a bit more interesting

TTFN and remember to ask yer Mum how many beans make five.

(Bean-And-A-Half, Bean-And-A-Half, Half-A-Bean, Bean-And-A-Half.)













Friday, June 29, 2012

P67 - The (Model) Number Of The Beast . . . (Unless You Count C330F Too)

Morning m'Dearios. 
This week your Cap'n has been reading about the terrible tale of the Somerset Nog. A horse (half Suffolk Punch/half Dachshund . . well, it gets very foggy on the moors) so long and overburdened that it snaps in two and founders along with its cargo of day-trippers in Ganderpoke Bog. They do say though, that if 'ee passes Ganderpoke Bog at midnight, you's can still hear the two ghostly halves of the Nog singing a lament.
It fairly wrings your withers to read about it. 
So let that be a lesson to you all:
Don't overburden your Nog.


***


My apologies to you all in advance, but this weeks FB is pure photography all the way, so hold onto your hats, tighten your belt and make sure you've got a pair of flat shoes on . . .
It will bore you to hell unless you like talking about cameras. Normal, less techie, service will be resumed next week.
When I started taking photographs seriously again, after a hiatus of about 15 years, I resumed using what I thought would give me the best quality (as our American friends would call it) bang for buck
I eschewed restarting with 35mm because I had used it fairly extensively at college and wasn't really wanting to go along that path again. 
At college, I had actually had the most photographic enjoyment at the time using The Beast - a Mamiya C330F. This is a camera so heavy it requires a team of sherpas to move it about. I think back in the '80's a large number of them were seen in use by the members of the Russian weight lifting squad at the 1988 Seoul Olympics . . . .




Sherpa Ten-dzen transports a Mamiya C330F to secret Russian training camp circa 1987



Honest, it feels like it weighs about 20 gravities, but it produces very nice quality photographs, and is actually about the cheapest way you can get into interchangeable lens medium format photography without selling your kidneys.
Having fond but painful memories of the Mamiya though made me search in another direction, namely Germany and the Rolleiflex. They were light and beautiful and the camera of choice for lots of well-known photographers. I couldn't afford a 3.5 or 2.8 F model with their exceptional Planar and Xenotar lenses, so I opted instead for a Rolleiflex T.
It wasn't cheap, but neither was it a fortune. What it was however was a stunning piece of 1960's engineering with a range of accessories that worked and fitted beautifully. In other words it was the bees knees.
I have spent many long hours wandering near and far with my Rollei and despite a few teething problems to start (film transport going funny) it has served me well (and still does actually). They are a very adaptable camera - portraits, landscape, pretty much anything you can think of a use for a camera for, and with a bit of free thinking, you can get there. 
However, as time went on I started looking seriously at the likes of Wynn Bullock and Ansel Adams and wondered whether upgrading to a larger format would make some of their vision rub off on me (it didn't by the way). So after much thought, I decided I was very hungry and needed a bigger doughnut.
Enter The Beast # 2. 
I saved up all my pocket money (and Christmas money too) and bought a trip into larger format heaven - a Pentax 6x7.
This camera looks and handles like the fat boy brother of the largest 35mm camera ever made (a Nikon F2s?).




Smuggled prototype photograph from Pentax HQ, showing proposed sizing of the original Pentax 6x7 (with new Mk II lens range) in proportion to average human being size. You can clearly see a plan for world domination here.


The Pentax is solid and heavy, has the loudest mirror slap you have ever heard and the shutter flings itself across with such violence it will actually torque the camera even though it is secured to a tripod. In your hands it can kick like a .22 air pistol. 
It was widely used by fashion photographers (Mario Testino and Bruce Weber are two who come to mind) namely and for that if you are using fast film, or flash, but definitely in the higher range of shutter speeds, I can see it working, but for quieter landscapes it is quite a proposition. The incredible thing is though, that for many it is the landscape camera of choice . . or was, in those heady days of using film. 
Personally, I found it difficult and I had to adopt a totally mad method of taking photographs with it.
Apologies if you love and use your P67, the following might tickle your funny bone . . . 
Note: if you are using the Pentax for anything other than hand-holding it at about 1/125th with the lens stopped down a couple of stops, then try this method of using it on a tripod . . it works. 
So here we go - Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tips.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 1: Firstly you fix it to your tripod like you are expecting rough weather and phone 999 (or 911).

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 2: Compose your photograph - I recommend the waist level finder actually, because you do not get the full frame when you look through the prism finder. Make sure all emergency services have arrived and are ready and on standby.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 3: When you are happy, zip up your flash suit, make sure you are in eyeball contact with emergency coordinators and then LOCK THE MIRROR UP AND SET THE SHUTTER TO B. If you do not do this then you will not get a sharp photograph.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 4: Use your lens cap the way they used to be used - in other words keep it in front of the lens. You can actually use your hand too.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 5: Hang on to something immovable and release the shutter. This is difficult to do - I found a bicycle chain around my ankle and then secured around a bollard or tree quite good. A cable release is essential, however I have used a pencil. Ear defenders are recommended. The shutter noise will scare birds and small children so sand-bagging the camera can work too. Don't worry though - the emergency crews should be in place to deal with any mishaps.

Rogers' Pentax 6x7 Tip Part 6: Remove your lens cap, but still keep it tightly in place until you are sure there is no movement or vibration from the camera. Very gently move the cap out of the way for your timed exposure. Count off your exposure. Place lens cap back in front of lens tightly and quickly. Release cable release to close shutter and unlock mirror.

Denouement: There you have made a nice photograph with the Pentax.
Kindly ask emergency teams to stand down, but remain in field radio contact with them as you have another 9 frames to use up.


I simply had to adopt this method because it was easier than that well known P67 tip of forcing all your weight down on top of the camera whilst it is tripoded to stop the torque ruining the photographs. I had had to do this a number of times until I came up with the method above believe it or not. It didn't half get some funny looks!
Unfortunately for me, because of my financially necessary photographic bottom feeding, the Pentax I had bought had probably been done to death by its previous owner(s).
It's reliance on batteries was also a pain and proved to be part of its downfall in my eyes. At about -4C, and a number of miles away from anywhere, it just refused to work. I was livid. It is no joke removing a small battery with freezing fingers and shoving it into your pants and clasping it tight in the crease where lower groin meets leg to get a little life back into it. This does work very well by the way, but I wouldn't recommend it if you are photographing in a city . . .
After that trip into the depths of a Scottish late Winter/early Spring I had a wonderful time with a few films being exposed correctly with a perfect frame count all the way through (10 frames on 120 film) and then it started misbehaving again: missing frames and locking completely, resulting in a blue darkroom fog of unloading the partially wound film, respooling it and starting again (!)
Enough was enough and I returned it to the vendor for a refund - they were good enough to do so after my 6 months of using it. I often wonder what happened to it. Knowing the secondhand market, it is probably still around with the problems of the transport still unresolved. 
Old and knackered cameras rarely die, they just keep getting shipped around the country.
For all that I seem to be criticizing the Pentax, I actually think that the problems of the early 6x7's were partially resolved in the later rebuilds - namely the Pentax 67 (see what they did there) and the Pentax 67II.
The superb photographer Steve Mulligan regularly uses a brace of P67II's for aerial photography and I simply don't see how they could have sold so many if they were rubbish.
There is a small whining voice inside me that says, I would love to own one again, simply for their sheer heft and the quality of the lenses. This being said, the lens I had (and could afford) was an early 75mm f4.5 Super-Multicoated-Takumar, and I thought it was a tad soft (there seems to be a concensus of opinion that it is one of the sharpest in the range, so maybe I had a not so good example). 
If I were to go for one again, it would be as late a model as possible with either the 90mm or 105mm lens and the 55mm wide angle. But then again, I would still face the same problem of not being able to see 100% of what I am photographing - a point which annoys the hell out of me.
My notes from when I returned the Pentax read as follows:

Basically no matter how good looking and likeable the Pentax 67 system is (and it is) - never get another one!!
The flaw of the system is the shutter (which is ridiculously loud and heavy in action *
If you want a 6x7 go for a RB67 or Fuji or something but not Pentax.
* The camera will torque no matter how much effort you put into restraining it. Only the lens cap/mirror up method works, but then we were let down by the lens.

The madness of bigger doughnuts did sort of resolve itself from this. The money I got back from the Pentax and lens and all the doo-dads I'd bought for it - strap, UV filter, waist-level finder, plus a trade-in of a nice little Petri rangefinder, enabled me to take a giant step forward.
I got the Supersized lunchtime special doughnut; a camera so large and bulky and yet so wonderful that I still own it. A Sinar F.
It is so much a character of his own, that he will have his own dedicated FB sometime soon.
But back to the Pentax, why does that niggling voice keep going? 
Why would I want to get another one when the original proved to be so unreliable and challenging to use? 
I think it could well be, that I like the idea (but maybe not the practicality) of having one again. Yes it was difficult to use. Yes it wasn't a ready companion miles away from anywhere, and yet, it was a character all of its own. A camera that you had to deal with on its own terms and not your own. A struggle to use, and yet a pleasure too. I hope he is still around out there, giving some bargain hunter pleasure and not pain!
The photograph below was made with the Pentax, at a place called Mossburn Ford in the Scottish Borders. The path Alec Turnips and myself were on passed through someone's garden, before meandering away and up a hillside. In the garden were some overgrown sheds with this incredible collection.








The photograph was made on Ilford FP4 at EI 64. I metered it with my Gossen Lunasix S meter (a totally wonderful light meter) placing the top left corner on Zone V. Exposure was 2 seconds at f16.
It was developed as per Barry Thornton's instructions - basically Ilford Perceptol at 1:3 and 20C, for 14 and a half minutes.
The scan does very little justice to the print, which somehow manages to 'breath' in the greys with a luminosity that is always very difficult to get a hold on.
I call it 'Grandfather's Chair', because of that old candlewick bedspread draped over the chair. 
It looks to me like a figure is sitting there - possibly the ghost of someone's Grandfather, still clinging to the unloved remnant of his favourite chair. 
Allied with the movement from the weeping Willow, and I think an air of strangeness has been imparted to it.
Of all the photographs I have made, it is the only one I have framed and on the wall in my study.
(Ab)normal service will be resumed next week.
God bless and thanks for reading.