Friday, September 30, 2016

4K Burning Moggie

Morning folks . . well, in an unprecedented move here's another post . . .and in the words of a disgraced TV personality from the 1970's . . "whacka, whacka, whacka . . . . can you tell what it is yet?"

OK, so that's enough mystery for one day . . . the title of this blog is deliberately obscure just because. But anyway, the more Cryptic Clue-minded amongst you will have worked out, that seeing as this blog is mostly about photography,  and seeing as yer Sheephouse is mostly not quite all human, then the title "4K burning Moggie" can only relate to one thing . . oh yes . . PYROCAT-HD!

Pyro-wtf? Eh? Wot?

Yes, Pyrocat-HD, Sandy King's wonderful and really rather rooty tooty developer, that's what . . . so all I can say is fasten your safety belts, get your rubber trousers on (preferably before the safety belt) take a good swig of tea/coffee and prepare to be amazed!

Now the well-read amongst you will know that I have long extolled the virtues of Rodinal/R09 - I have loved this developer dearly for many years now and for sheer convenience and longevity, there's little can touch it . . but you know what it's like when you've broken your arm, and there's a wee crawly thing, crawling away under the cast and you're enraged and want to scratch it and you cant . . . well photography is like that. What if I had a better lens or better camera, or developer?
Well seeing as I've explored the former rather too thoroughly, I thought I would explore the latter. 

Over the years I've used, D76, ID11, Rodinal, Barry Thornton's 2-bath, HC110, Rodinal, R09, D23 and did I mention Rodinal? But I dunno, one day I woke up and thought, I must try that . . the that being Pyrocat. 
And then I started looking around and discovered that I could only buy industrial-sized quantities of Pyrocatechin from Silverprint and seeing as I was going to just be trying it, why did I have to spend around 50 squid on chemicals?
And I nearly gave up, but then a thought occurred to me and I did a wee bit of ebay searching and sure enough a kit came up - this link will take you to an ebay shop:


100% feedback helped me make my choice, so I ordered some - it was very reasonable (this was pre-Brexit, so it was really reasonable)! 
OK - chemicals off ebay . . hmm, yes, however, Vincenzo, the vendor, was incredibly helpful (and thus comes Sheephouse-recommended) with my requests about mixing instructions, and when his kit arrived, I was really surprised at how well put together it was
It looked like it was meant to be used professionally if you know what I mean; everything was pre-measured in sturdy plastic vials and the instructions were clear and concise . . . in other words, apart from the fact it wasn't in a box, it looked like something you could have bought from a 'proper' manufacturer. 
Seriously - I recommend having a go with his kits!
Allied to this, I also made the executive decision to mix Part A in Glycol, which apparently extends the life considerably. Now I could have ebay'd that too, however having bought some dodgy borax before, and given that Glycol is now used in production of e-cigarette vape, I took another executive decision and bought it and some distilled water from a place called Darrant Chemicals. They're a 'proper' chemical distributor to labs and schools and so on but don't mind dealing with normal bods too!

And so, it came to pass one Saturday morning I started mixing. 
The hardest thing about the whole process was getting the Glycol hot enough to dissolve the chemicals in. I had to use a double boiler (in my case a jug in a pan of boiling water) which resulted in me over-heating it! My thermometer was reading a constant temp and then all of a sudden it jumped sharply - so if you are doing this, take care, CONSTANTLY MONITOR YOUR TEMPERATURE and try not to rush (which is what I was doing).
Rushing this is definitely not recommended, just because it'll take you a while to do it properly, and if you rush and don't concentrate enough you run the risk of spoiling all those lovely chemicals.
The second hardest thing was mixing the Potassium Carbonate in. It took a lot of stirring. But don't let me put you off - it is an adventure. And a worthy one!
When it was mixed, I think my overheating of the Glycol and the mixing in of the chemicals for Part A had partially oxidised the solution it had the faintest pinky/purple hue to it, but I had made it, and I was determined to use it, so ahead I went.

The first films (expired sheets of 5x4) I developed in it seemed awfully under-developed (based upon times found on the net) and the usual dilution of 1+1+100, so I moved to 2+2+100 which was good but very very contrasty. 
This set me back a bit, but after some convos with Ian (lostlabours on FADU) we concluded I must have oxidised Bath 1 . . . I still didn't want to give up, so I thought about it and came to the conclusion (based on his times) that I needed a new approach.
A quick word here - most times you find on the net these days are for scanned negatives - they can afford to be thinner. We are printing . . we need meat and potatoes, so if you are getting a time off the net, make sure someone has actually printed some negatives from it and not just developed and scanned..

Anyway, my first move was to cut box speed to half, and the next was to extend the development time massively (I figured if it was hard to blow highlights with it, then the only thing I was going to do was lift the shadows . . . same with the new film speed). 
Anyway, what this meant is that my new times for Delta 400 (which I have been using recently) are EI 200 and with PHD at 1+1+100 and 20 C, I develop for 19 minutes. This consists of continuous gentle agitation for 30 seconds then 3 gentle inversions every minute up to 17 minutes, then let it stand to 19 or even 20 minutes. 
This is longer than the old days of dilute Perceptol!!!!

So where does all this tomfoolery get us? 
In a new space where film development takes a lot longer, but where you'll struggle to burn-out any over-exposed highlights and where, with a modicum of technique tickling you can produce negatives that are just about damn near perfect. 
 Now you read about the perfect negative a lot - certainly the Reverend Sir Barry Of Thornton did his best to produce such things and I know he did, but some of them proved that you needed to be a little pernickity with your technique. As good as BT 2-bath is, I found that for all it's ability to even out exposure times into one homogenous whole, it somehow lacked contrast, whereas I can honestly say with Pyrocat, you'll regain that contrast, but also you'll gain balance.
Yes care is still needed - it's like giving birth (not that I ever have to a human, but there's things men give birth to that put women to shame . . .  anyway . . . hope you've still got some savour left for that croissant.
And how have I come to this conclusion about PHD? 
Well, go on, have a gander at this.





This is a straight print. 
No dodging or burning, just a print made direct from the negative in a glass carrier printed onto some ancient Adox Vario Classic (now long gone) paper - I filtered to a Grade 3 because of its age. 
Chemicals were bog standard: Fotospeed developer, Kodak Stop and Ilford Fix, a very light toning for archival purposes in Kodak Selenium and that was that.
Admittedly I am using one of the finest MF lenses ever made - the 60mm Zeiss Distagon*** which can do pretty much anything required of it, from pin-sharp detail, to easy to use hyper-focal measuring (very handy in the semi-twilight of an abandoned building) to wonderful, creamy out of focus stuff, to micro-contrast, to gorgeous greys and a massive tendency to flare, but all the same . . . .

If you look closely at the print, the lens (and developer) have managed to do a sterling job of capturing a really hard lighting situation: the wall at the right was in bright light, the wall to the left was in shadow and overshadowed by dense vegetation, and the bit at the end of that wall was in a half-light. 
It would have proved soot and whitewash with many setups, but this is balanced
Not only that but the Zeiss has somehow managed to capture pin-sharp detail and contrast and blended it with some of the nicest out of focus stuff I have seen, but that has been captured with less contrast and somehow lends an overall 'older' feel to the image whilst still retaining the sharpness and contrast of a modern lens. 
When I saw this as a negative I was bowled over - it looked gorgeous, and the same happened with the print too. 
CHUFFED is not the word . . add a FECKING to the start . .
 
This was taken whilst on holiday in June and is a looong story that involved me walking countless miles to try and reach an old Norman Motte and being defeated every time, by fences and walls, bulls, rain, crops, more walls and some of the tallest, wettest bracken you have ever seen, so I gave up. And then before you could say bunga-ahomogenius-tomato I came across a sad (yet wonderful) semi-derelict cottage. 
At least, it could be even more beautiful were it not hard up against a road and if someone had taken it in hand a couple of decades back rather than let it slide into disrepair.

Here's some more pictures.














These exposures ran the gamut from 1/15th at f5.6 (the first print) to 145 seconds at f11 (the third, interior shot) . . BUT they're all on the same film. Now do you see what I mean about a near perfect developer.

Yes I know, they're hairy scans and there's a few rebate mistakes, but on the whole what do you think? 
They were easy as anything to print. No messing. No SP**-GR***. Nothing like that.

A Little Sheephousian Aside:
You know, I read some of my printing books and look at split-grade this and split-grade that and think, you know what? in 3 decades of printing (pretty much, minus the 15 year gap, but it does sound better than in a decade and a half's printing . . ) I've never seen any point in split-grade - it just seems like so much faff to achieve a print that really, could be done with a lot more basic techniques. yeah dodge and burn, selective bleaching and selenium or any toner you fancy. 
Seriously, printing is a craft skill that can be achieved by anyone with an eye for tone and quality.
The caveats I would add to this are try and make it fibre paper if you can, though to be fair the RC papers that are left are pretty decent, but there's something about a fibre print. Also, dare I say it, try and find graded paper - that narrows your options down massively, but if you don't feel confident, go MG paper. 
To be honest I have never used Ilford's ubiquitous MG in fibre. I used to use it a fair bit in RC and never really got on with it - maybe I am missing something. 
Ilford's Galerie on the other hand is probably top of the heap for paper quality these days - yes you have to re-mortgage to buy it, but honest, there's nothing like it anymore. 
At the end of the day I believe the cost to be worth it.
Another paper I do really like is Adox's take on Agfa MCC - it is pretty close, though not quite. The original Agfa papers were outstandingly beautiful AND kind to the printer, seemingly producing decent prints from even the most cack-handed of efforts.
How long have we got left as printers and printmakers? I really don't know. It all depends on the young and whether they feel they can justify spending nearly £90 on a box of 100 sheets of 8x10"!
How sad it has come down to this - in a world awash with imagery, does anyone care anymore about handling a physical print? Or are we at the narrow part of the pass - the vintage prints will carry on and be lauded, the work of the concerned and talented amateur, and I am talking to any of you out there who have cared enough about printing to actually make your own are destined for the skip of eternity. You know what it is like:
"I see your Uncle Ernie died . . I was sorry to hear that"
"Yeah, thanks. He was a funny old fucker really. Had all this old school photographic stuff and boxes and I mean boxes and boxes of pictures, big ones of all sorts of shit - trees and signs and strange things - it was so much to look through. In the end we didn't have the time 'cause we had to clean his house out and get it on the market before Winter. We chucked the whole lot in the skip. All that work of his. The only thing I saved was this picture he made - it's about 6x6" square and it's of a dog in a hat and the dog is looking right at the camera and I dunno . . it just makes me laugh. Ernie liked that sort of thing."

Back To The Point:

Anyway, where were we . . . ah yes Pyrocat-HD. 
Bloody marvellous stuff.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words . . so I'll stop now.
If anyone wants to know more, please leave a message at the bottom, or do some trawling - there's a lot of stuff written about it.
Suffice to say, I can see myself using this for a good while yet . . and next time I might even mix it with more care!

TTFN, and remember, around the ragged rock, the ragged rascal ran, until his trousers fell down

*** Why do I say this? Well, renowned Rollei fan, Helmut Newton. Now I like his photographs so I was rather surprised when I visited his museum, in Berlin that in a case with his other cameras, was a Hasselblad with a 60mm Distagon . . . food for thought!

Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Ogden's Not Gone Flake

Morning folks - this is a brief one, rather like those undies you used to wear when you were young . .. sigh, oh so different to the rubber-lined buckets that are required with old age . . . not wearing those?

Oh lucky person.

I was actually a fan of 'commando' for most of my early life . . . yes I can hear the titters around the world; initially it was a comfort thing, but come the big world of work, you try working with a shrink-wrap machine in a stockroom with no windows and no ventilation in 95° Farenheit of dry, plastic-debris filled heat. It was no fun (as well as being exceptionally detrimental to my health - thank you Virgin Records) and add to the mix tight stretch jeans (now commonplace on the UK High Street, but in my day, special order jobs from the States no less) and you have a recipe for some of the worst heat-rash known to man . . . so . . . 'commando' it was.

Anyway, you'll be pleased to hear I am still alive after another Summer of DIY and (sadly) very little printing.
Some photographic things have changed.
The Canon EOS has gone. It was a nice camera and all that, but to be honest, was little used and I just couldn't get on with the lens - no character.
So what did I do with my £260? (A little aside, that was a loss of around £90 in under a year . . . good old technology)
More didge I am afraid - this time the little Sony A6000. Steve and I had a conversation in which he said that even though it hadn't arrived (at the time) I'd end up hating it . . . by the end of the convo I had sold it to him in advance for a fiver . . oh how we larfed!
And the reason for this madness? well as you're no doubt aware, there's a plethora of adapters available for the Sony E mount, so I got a Metabones one for my most numerous of lenses, the Nikon F mount. Why Metabones when I could have bought a £10 one from ebay? Build and binding. The Metabones is brass and stainless steel, it won't bind to lens or camera - if you've ever had a brown-trouser moment from trying to get an aluminium filter off the front of an expensive lens and failing, then you'll realise how important brass is to camera screwy things.

You'll know my feelings about Nikons of course - ever reliable and useable.
I had the choice in my armoury of the 28mm f3.5 Nikkor, or one of my 35mm's (a f2 'O' and a f2.8 'K' Series). In a few brief trials, the 35mm 'O' won out and that is what is now mounted to it (with its front protected by a 1960's Nikon Skylight filter).
It's approximately equivalent to 46mm in old money, in other words slightly short of yer trad 'standard' lens.
Having only ever used these pre-Ai Nikkors in monochrome and with film I have to say it has been a total joy to see their character revealed in living Technicolor.
I am rather pleased actually, and whilst this line-up will never replace any film camera, you know what (whisper it) as modern cameras go, the Sony is surprisingly well thought out and more of a photographer's camera than a thing you stare at, look at the offending menu and say to yourself "What the feck did I just do?" (as was the case with the Canon).
In other words, whilst the options are there in spades, they can quickly be smashed out of the way to allow you to use the camera more like an film SLR from the 1990's.
Everything just works(ish).
So, here's some examples of ancient glass at work in a modern environment  - they won't win photographer of the year, but I like them.






































See what I mean - yes there's flare and all the wonderful messy shite people seem to spend half their life trying to eliminate these days, but they have character and are not at all tardy for a lens from about 1971.

If only my pants from that time still delivered these results . . . sadly they've gone to the great skidmark in the sky . . . farewell my famous old Jockey yellow and brown (trimmed, not stained) Y-fronts.

And that's it folks - just a quickie. I've got lots of other traditionally-themed stuff lined up, but I just need to get my act together.
I am sure I will - Scotland is now quickly adopting an Autumnal hue - it's dark when I get up . . where did the Summer go?
TTFN and remember, mony a mickle maks a muckle.











Friday, July 08, 2016

Stepping Up To The Mark

Morning folks - it has been a long time hasn't it, and my apologies, but well, this is Scotland, you have to make the most of the daylight and sunshine when it comes, or else rickets and S.A.D. is the order of the day!
I have had some very exciting times photographically over the past couple of months, what with new developers being tried, holidays and travails that resulted in some unexpected results, and, the realisation that whilst I own a vast array of 35mm camera lenses, I have never owned the right one . . that is until now.

Coo, that's exciting isn't it!
 
Well, I note the trace of irony and scepticism in your sneering, lip-curl, and one man's meat and all that, but for my humble purposes, what I have said seems to fit the bill, so, step up to the mark, Herr Brille . . . my new (very old), beautiful, best damn 35mm lens I have ever owned . . . a 1958 Leitz 35mm f/3.5 Summaron.





There he is, and he looks lovely don't you think?
But before we get into the nitty gritty of why I am expounding, I'll preface this with some hunting and research.

I don't know about you, but I look at a lot of photographs, a lot. And when you expose yourself to such vast quantities and start thinking about things, one thing comes clear with regard to photography, we might have got sharper, we might well be able to control flare and boost contrast, but you know what, I don't think lens design is quite what it was.
The strange thing is, that the numerous 'vintage' Japanese lenses I have (1959-ish Canon 28mm f3.5 LTM, 1960-ish Canon 50mm f2.8 LTM, lots of Nikon SLR lenses [running the gamut from a 55mm auto-compensating Micro-Nikkor through to an early 80's 28mm f.3.5]; even my journey into Pentax K-Mount resulting in the excellent 50mm f/.1.4 SMC) all look remarkably similar - they're contrasty, and in a way that stands parallel with a lot of modern lenses too. Obviously there are exceptions - the one that stands out in my collection is the 28mm LTM f3.5 Canon, but even that is sharp and quite contrasty, not ott contrasty, but enough to make me feel that it just isn't quite there for 'the look'.

'The Look' Sheepy - wot dat den?

Well that's a hard thing to define really, but it is sharp and soft and mildly-contrasty, but not overly soot and whitewash, just a sort of overall cream that is defined.
There, that's the look old son, and good luck trying to find it, but the thing is you can if you look hard enough And I did, so . . . enter the Summaron.
Now looking around out there you'll find a lot of mention of the 35mm f2.8 Summaron, Rockwell and all these guys saying it's the dog's danglers, and whilst it might be for a lot of people, for me, it is just a tad too contrasty, and reading through some Leica literature, it becomes obvious why . . they changed the glass!
The f3.5 and f2.8 Summarons are optically identical as far as I can make out, with the exception that the f2.8 was made possible by using newer and more effective glass, but what that glass has done apart from adding the extra stop, is made things more contrasty, and that was just a step too far.
Now, just reviewing that, it is like it's some new revelation - so please bear in mind this happened a long time ago, when old Sheephouse was nothing more than a speck in the eye of God. It's old knowledge, but a quote from Kisselbach's Leica Handbook book states it clearly:

"35mm. Summaron f/2.8

This is a six-lens Gauss type.
The introduction of new types of glass has made it possible to increase the speed of the well-tried 35mm Summaron to f/2.8. It's colour correction has also been improved."

f/2.8 Summaron


f/3.5 Summaron (sorry for the poor quality!)


There are tiny differences if you look hard at it (a slight sphericity to part of the rear inner element on the 2.8; less air gap on the 2.8 and a lesser proportion of spherical to the front inner group on the 2.8) but one wonders whether that could just be down to differentiations with illustrators - who knows (last minute editorial add-on: actually, I found another diagram of the f/.2.8 in the Focal Press classic "Photographic Optics" by Arthur Cox, and it is identical to the 3.5 . . . !)
It looks pretty damn similar though doesn't it, so unless you need that extra stop and contrast, why buy the f2.8 when you can get the f3.5 instead!

The full specs are here:

f/.2.8   http://www.l-camera-forum.com/leica-wiki.en/index.php/Summaron_f%3D_3.5_cm_1:2.8

f/.3.5   http://www.l-camera-forum.com/leica-wiki.en/index.php/Summaron_f%3D_3.5_cm_1:3.5

Show Wotsh It Loik en Sheepsh, eh? Wotsh It Loik?

Sorre - oiv jus red Riddley Walker by Russel Hoban . . yewd need to reed it to no wot im on abowt, it hav alot in comon wiv Down Wiv Skool.

Anyway, what's it like?
Ah, this is where I go all gooey-eyed . . .
It's like peaches and cream; like fish and chips; like pasta and tomatoes. In other words it's the perfect compliment to my dreams! I know this all sounds rather flowery, so please let me qualify it.

I'm not a 35mm camera user really as I have always been inclined to the larger things in life like plates of food, shoes, hats, guitar collections and so on, but this being said I seem to have acquired rather too many 35mm cameras (about 12 at last count)!
It's kind of mad actually, so much so, that at the start of the year I said to myself, I am going to sell everything except for my trusty Nikon F.
Now obviously that would have meant a massive clearout, and it might still get done, however included in my list of 'have to go' things, was, dare I say it, the Leica M2!
I know!! 
But I felt there was enough money tied up in it and the differing lenses, to enable me to maybe get another lens for the Hasselblad, or, a CF tripod.
I felt sad, but also thought, well, you know, it's a devil of a lot of money tied up in the whole system and maybe it would suit some other person and go on giving them a lovely photographic experience in the same way it had me.
Then a dichotomy weighed in, because you see I was also enamoured with the LTM Canon 28mm!
I liked the slightly wider viewpoint,  and so to that end (and thinking I'd just be Nikons from there in) I purchased a 'K-Series'** 28mm f3.5 Nikkor for the F. It was very reasonably priced and I used it on a trip to Moffat and thoroughly enjoyed it - here's an example of what it can do if used carefully!


            


Now I think that is actually a fine photo - the graffiti on the plexiglass really stands out on the print, but for all my enjoyment of the lens I felt that something was missing and I couldn't place it, so, after reviewing some ancient prints I nagged myself into thinking that the best lens I'd ever used on the F was the old and venerable 35mm f2 "O" Nikkor . . . which was (and is) great.

But still something nagged and from that, I thought well how about other 35mm lenses for other systems? The f2 is a great lens for the Nikon, but I found myself seriously contemplating Canon SLRs, Leicaflex and Minolta and Olympus and then I found myself drawn to old books of monochrome photos, and also my old (M5 era) Leica Manual.

Mary Ellen Mark and Bill Pierce had all contributed photos to the Manual that I admired (though they were probably using Summicrons, however, I think possibly not given the contrast of a Summicron . . anyway . . I am wittering) and sadly for my pocket that made me think, that there really was something about the late-'50's and 1960's Leitz 35mm focal length that had something.
It was a look I loved.
Sharp, not too contrasty, but perhaps best of all, the most incredible skin tones, so, suitably having talked myself into it, I raided my piggy-bank and Alec Turnip's Uni fund and bought one.

























Now the one thing I will say about these is that as well as the obvious attributes of the lens, there's been a bit of secret-squirelling too . . . Pyrocat-HD!
But that's a different story which I will write up - it has been a process of discovery and revelation and one I am enjoying very much . . and, unusually for me, these ARE ALL NEGATIVE SCANS. That's right - not prints, though you'd think they could well be - but nope they're all from the super-crumby, base-metal Epson Photo Perfection V300 flatbed - imagine what you could get with a dedicated film scanner! To be honest, I've never had such consistent and beautiful negatives before with any developer, and some 120 negatives I've also developed with Pyrocat, print beautifully.


But anyway, onwards with the Summaron.
It's wonderful to me, but does fall (slightly) short in a few areas, and especially so if you are comparing to a more 'modern' lens:

1. Basically any strong light source that is even remotely near the front element will cause that lovely veil of flare. Now my lens is clean, totally clean, but even with the requisite (and feckingly stupidly expensive) correct lens hood, you'll still get it, so urge your subjects to move so you can have the sun at your back . . luckily this is Scotland, so there's little sun and it is in overcast conditions that this really comes to life.

2. The aperture selection bit is quite difficult to use, and even more so with a correct lens hood on! But you get used to it, learn to anticipate and take things from there.

3. If you are using the M3 be-spectacled version on anything other than an M3, I think you'll find that there is enough play (and I mean tiny) to put your rangefinder out vertically. It still focuses with ultra-accuracy normally and horizontally - that's fine - but you will notice that the there's a slight differentiation along the top edge of the rangefinder window. It didn't affect the image making in any way whatsoever. But of course that might just be with my camera . . .

4./ Nothing!

I feel it's as near a perfect fit (for me) as I could ever wish for (as evidenced by the photographs above).
OK, the first three exhibit that flare, but the rest . . well you get the idea!

Good mate Bruce of The Online Darkroom reckoned they had a James Ravilious look to them, so that is fine by me. You're not quite getting that super-low contrast you'll get with really early Leitz lenses, but you are getting some of it . . but that's OK - learn to live with it because it is giving you more, much more: crisp micro-contrast and detail, smooth oofa, and just a lovely vintage look.

At this moment in time, comparing Herr Brille with all the other 35mm lenses I have, I'll nail my trousers to the flagpole and say, this is the one I'll keep above all others.
There.
You can't be more definite than that.

So, there y'go, a new member of the family!
It's fun this photograhy stuff ain't it!

TTFN, thanks for reading and remember, chips. No, not C.H.I.P.S., that was a terrible show . . . no . . .chips.


** K-Series Nikkors were Nikkors made at the end of the pre-Ai period - optically similar to the new super-tooty Ai Series. They certainly seem to have attracted attention in recent years as being optically similar yet sharper than what preceded them and in some cases what came after - they're identifiable by serial numbers.










Thursday, May 12, 2016

(D)Evolution Of The Leica Snapshot

Howdy folks - today we're going to approach something that was so much of a scene, so hep it never became popular!
It was out there but it never came back.
So strim yer goatee, dig out your snappy duds, put on some sides . . .
Dig?
And let's get going!

Any of you out there with Theo Kisselbach's "Leica Handbook" will no doubt have had a chortle at the photograph of The Cat (actually not just any old cat, but a German one, looking cool, and it's hard to be cool when there's no bread and the Communists and the Capitalists are talking about dividing your country) taking what became known as a Leica Snapshot.
Wot's a Leica Snapshot then Sheepy?
Well, technically it isn't a Leica Snapshot as Kisselbach describes it as a "walking snapshot", but you'll know what it is . . . camera held at a low, hip level (dig? man that's groovy) vertically or horizontally in your hand, your focus and shutter speed pre-set and your big old (but totally groovin') thumb on the shutter release. 
Then all you do is slide man . . . 
And . . .
Snap!
There y'go, outta sight, you've a groovy masterpiece forever y'dig.
Like you get a note in there between C and C# and that's its own sound y'know. I mean, you can't call it C because it isn't . . . that's like dig.
Dig means Dig.
If it doesn't hang you up, it doesn't make it as a thing.

You must excuse the hip speak baby (and its nothing to do with Fecking Austin Feckin' Powers either) no man, we're in Germany in the early 60's with a Leica M2, neat threads, and some crazy side someone got in the American Zone.
I am of course alluding to one of the greatest albums of all time by two loose wigs - namely Del Close and John Brent.


Try and find a copy, sit back and laugh.
Dig yourself baby, you've got a way to go.
Once you get used to it, insanity can be the most normal thing in the world . . .

And somewhere near approaching insanity is what the walking snapshot has done to me.
Sorry, but I couldn't be bothered to separate the two 'covert' techniques photos, so both are detailed below, but it's the Cat (left hand figure in left hand photo in case your sexing radar is a bit off today) and the bit near the bottom (last paragraph of the text) that we're interested in.
Man . . . modern life.
So here he is, a young Cat, in the park, sliding, digging the scene, impressing his admiring Fräulein Chick with his stone-cold skills, and she too is juiced, impressing him with her similarly boss covert stance - all she needs is some rain-threads and she could be that Walker Evans cat on the New York Subway in the 1930's:

"Look - stop moaning baby, I've set it to 1/500th and f16 dig?"


The book states the following:




So, the "walking snapshot" - it's a hip scene isn't it?
Isn't it?
Well, er . . NO!
Baby, it's as difficult a technique to master as becoming a Shaolin monk.
It's so hard, man, it fried people's minds, it chewed the carpet, it split the juice, it . . .
OK . . .I'll stop now.
Indeed, it is so bloody hard that it has largely fallen out of favour, because it is just simpler to go up to people and shove your camera in their face.
So just what is so difficult about it then?
Well, what Herr Kisselbach doesn't mention is that it entirely depends on three things that have to be absolutely right, namely:

Aim 
Momentum
and  
Timing

 . . . but you've been there man. You're a hep cat, you know the scene, you've sacrificed a roll or two to practice, but you blew your wig, you chewed the rug when you realised that for every shot that worked, you had ten that don't.
 
I've tried this technique a number of times now and whilst it certainly beats lifting the camera to your eye, that little frame of film is entirely at the apex of a vastly complex physical equation involving:

Speed
Time
Momentum
Energy
 . . oh and . . .
Random chance

It's like the whole of chaos theory wrapped up into that one tiny moment of time as you pick your moment, and Click! your finger digs the scene!

Of course you can do things to mitigate the whole thing, like being super-careful, not jabbing at the shutter release, suspending your body motion and poising for a brief moment and being totally aware of everything as it is happening, but it still doesn't seem to work.
In fact, with a bit of scouring around it seems close to Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle (just don't quote me on it)


But how does this relate to evolution?
Well, simply put, despite being a very small and sereptitious camera, the Leica in all its variations still looks like a camera, and it is big for such operations.
My thinking led me to the thoughts that if I don't mind a fixed focus lens I could use one of the smaller pre-noughties compacts and try it that way. The only problem with that, was that if using say an Olympus MjU, you've got that total bane of shutter lag, so I stripped that back and tried it with my lovely old Olympus Trip.

It was almost  a good camera for it - being that bit smaller. But it is still very much obviously a camera . . and not only that it has that stupid red flag that comes up every bloody time you have an interesting picture coming up, so you might be well-prepped and itching to go but at the last moment the camera decides "Nope - you're not wasting film on that!" and the shutter refuses to fire.
So I gave that up as a bad-show, and then happenstance and a kind gift from Bruce Robbins of Online Darkroom fame moved things along.
The gift?
A lovely Olympus XA2 in really lovely condition
In much the same way that the original Olympus XA was an evolutionary move on from the Trip, so, the humble XA2 was a move on from the XA, in that, there's simply nothing to complicate things.
It's simple.
Zone focus - you get a choice of three, close heads, heads and torsos, and mountains.
Automatic - set the EI/ASA and the camera does the rest for you, both aperture and shutter speed.
And it doesn't have anything that stops you from taking a photograph apart from a light in the viewfinder which tells you if things are getting iffy.
And then there's the main thing:  down low at hip height, held in your hand, it could look like a phone and no one pays a blind bit of notice of them do they?
Sounds ideal doesn't it!
Here's the tech specs:

    Lens D.Zuiko 35mm 1:3.5-22 (4 elements in 3 groups)
    Focal range 1.3m to infinity in 3 zones
    Shutter speeds 2s-1/750th aperture-priority automatic

Ally this with a super quite, super sensitive shutter (with NO shutter lag) and a wonderful wheel advance that is easily and discreetly moved by a few flicks of your thumb and you have a camera which is the ultimate in stealth!
I loaded it up and set off to work, winding and snapping like a good 'un. I couldn't even hear the shutter as I was moving, it being a focal plane/between lens elements job. Marvey!
It was a revelation to use - no one noticed, and I thought I had some stonking frames on my film.
And in came the wonder of film too, because unlike everything (or seemingly everything in life at the moment) this wasn't instantaneous gratification, nope, I had to wait . . to finish that long 36 exposure film and then the processing, and even then there was still no guarantee I had got anything at all worth using . .
But you know me - I can be obverse . . I love that aspect of photography where you see something good, take a photograph but just don't know whether it will be any good or not!
I suppose it is a form of oo! yah!, lay off with the split cane will you . . . masochism.
So where did all that waiting get us?
Shitesville, that's where!



Oops



Ditto



Bad Timing



Ditto



There's Something Perversely Pleasing About This One



Ditto - That's A Dog At The Left BTW



Pretty Boring  - But It Shows What Can Be Done With Care



Pick Up Thy Camera (To Eye-Level) And Snap



A Pretty Damn Good Little Lens Though - Shame About The Photographer


Y'see, the XA2's lens is fine, really fine, but you can't really tweak anything at all, the camera decides everything for you once you've set the focus and wound on, I mean you might well be able to get 1/750th at f3.5, but what use is that when you are trying to get a fair amount within the zone of focus? Sadly, for anything other than bright sunshine (this is Scotland - c'mon!) the XA2 and the "walking snapshot" don't really cog.
It's sad actually, because if you could just set it in stone and shoot, you'd have a very capable little machine, however if you live in sunnier climes, you might well find the XA2 to be a very capable little machine indeed.

So, I chewed some carpet, spat my spaghetti at the wall, dug what that crazy Gibson cat said and retired to my secret pad, to see if I could get the thing.
After much ruminating, goatee scratching, and bashing my brains against the lampstand, the lampstand came on, and I dug. I really did. 
It was crazy daddio, but first I needed to tweak the knobs.

If you've read FB for long enough (and if you haven't why not, it's a whole scene playing out in front of your eyes - a lot of people get it, some people even dig it) you'll realise there's nothing I like more than a bit of a tweak.
Pretty much the ultimate tweak for this sort of thing is a box-speed 400 ASA film, and a camera set at 1/125th of a second and f16. 
You've got to zone-focus baby, because, the zone is where it's at. 
Develop your masterpiece in some really aggressive developer (just in case) and let the film's latitude deal with any bad decisions and poor exposure. 
Oh and pray
Pray to Bird, or Monk, or Trane or Miles. 
Those cats are watching you. 
You'd better do them justice.

So I put the XA2 away, packed the crazy 1960 M2, but this time with the late '50's Canon 28mm f3.5 attached.
Sigh . . . here we go again . . .


Wides are cool. They dig the scene better than anything else, but you have to move those cats in close, closer than talc or else everything is too far out.
I dug what Ralph had said. 
I even dug where Sheephouse had excavated his technique and shoved it on a plate of loose beans in front of the modern world. 
Education man. 
Yeah, crazy.
Education. 
Helping others - that's a crazy scene.
So before setting out, I decided on mixing a bit of Ralph Gibson Experiment (Tri-X - 400 ASA, 1/125th of a second, f16 in sunny conditions, developed in Rodinal) with a bit of Zone focus magic. 
And what did I have
I had a thing.
A crazy, complex, small, simple and quiet Leica Snapshot Machine
The rain came out to play and so did I.


That's the edge of my threads . . . and Ali's nose



Ok - This Was A 'Proper' Photograph - But Dig That Krazy Kanon Glow!


This Chick Looked Fierce, But She Had A Collection Of Cakes In A Bag, So She Must Have Been Alright.


A Scene Going Down - We Vamoosed

She Was Concentrating On Pushing So Much, She Nearly Ran Me Down


They Were Concentrating On Their Destination Of Starbucks, They Nearly Ran Me Down.


But it never came off.
Sady The Uncertainty Principle caught me up in its complexity - you see what I mean, Shitesville City and all it's satellite towns too!
For all my care and even with a fixed fixed shutter speed and a bit more poise, I still found it utterly impossible to take what I would call a decent photograph.

This being said, I kind of like some of these in a crazy way.

There's a perverse sense that someday . . . maybe someday . . . something will turn out right and I'll get there.
But till then . . .
If you fancy having a go, by all means do . . . 

Just don't come blowing my horn when you're 2 rolls down and cracking your nut.

Monday, April 18, 2016

Stumbling Into The Light

You know there's that thing called a Preternatural Glow that can precede dawn (so long as it isn't overcast)?
Well, as a long-time very early riser, I can confirm that there is - it's my favourite time of day too and often brings to mind the best photograph I've ever seen in my life.
Well, at least it might have been the best photograph I've ever seen in my life, had I had
a/ a small tripod
and
b/ a loaded camera!


My Dad used to have this great saying: 

The Things You See When You Haven't Got Your Gun 

It's a great saying and in my case could easily have been applied to my photographic unpreparedness.
I was driving along near The Caterthuns in Angus - they're two iron Age hillforts outside Brechin and my goodness the view from the top is astonishing. Anyway, it was pre-dawn, really dark, and I was bumbling along a lane in my old Nissan Micra and there before me (outwith the reach of my headlight beams) was a spread of land that opened out from the high country I was in, for miles and miles downwards to the Eastern horizon and the North Sea.
It was like the land had been cut away for my pleasure and wonder and I had this downward slope of immense landscape to bask in; and there, huddled together in the field beside the road, was a smallish herd of cows.
I like cows - you know where you stand with a cow, anyway, this lot were all lying down, cudding away, and to a cow, were watching the dawn coming on in the same way I was.
The light was so faint it only lit them gently, but they all had a look of utter peace on their faces.
Cows appreciate the unusual and art - did you know that? It's true - whenever my Mum used to hang washing on our whirlygig washing line, it always attracted a herd of interested moos who would stand and watch for ages until they'd eaten all the grass nearby in the adjacent field and then wander off murmuring appreciatively. .
Anyway, I digress - I stopped the car on the tight verge, switched off the engine, rolled down the window and listened. There was a massive silence gently filled with warm cow sounds (no not that Jenkins . . . report to the headmaster immediately) and a sense of all not only being right with the world, but also a sense of peace which literally did pass all understanding.
It was incredible and had I a camera that could have frozen the moment, I would have done so and astonished people, but sadly, that was not the case, and so the scene is forever only imprinted in my memory until I shuffle off to the immortal skip . . .
But that was the glow, the preternatural glow. It softened and made so very beautiful the faces of the cows and draped itself so gently over the world that it turned the astonishingly ordinary into something otherworldly and timeless.
It was a herald of good portents for the day and lifted my spirit to soar upon the morning breeze (yes you've got to feed the inner caveman sometimes) and this is what it did.


Photographic, Silver Gelatin prints can have that glow too. 
It's a rare thing but does seems to be do-able. 
I've seen it in real prints from the masters at exhibitions, I've seen it in a wonderful book on the Maggie's Centre in Dundee, by Peter Goldsmith and I've also seen it in some incredibly early Photogravures from the pages of Camera Work. 
Incredibly to me, I've even sometimes seen it in my own prints . . . but it's rarer than rocking-horse shit, however sometimes you just stumble upon a combination that works.
In my case, it was FP4 rated at EI 80 developed in 1+50 Rodinal (well, R09) at 20C. 
The resulting negatives were printed on ancient, long-expired Agfa MCC at Grade 4 (100 Magenta on my DeVere head) - I've had to use this equivalent grade to bring the paper back to life - anything less and the paper is mud - my goodness though, I wish I had a dozen or so boxes of it.  
The prints were developed very ordinarily in Fotospeed developer, Kodak stop and Ilford fix and given standard Selenium toning for archival purposes. And that was it! Incredibly exposure was standardised at 16 seconds at f22 on my Vivitar lens, with a tiny (and I mean tiny) bit of burning judiciously applied here and there. 
There was no Split-Grade Faffing, no Wizard-Cape Theatricals, no Snake Oil - just straight printing
I often wonder with the screeds of books written about the darkroom dark arts, how much of it is snake oil. Get the exposure right in the camera, and printing should just come down to either expansion or contraction of contrast and a modicum of artistic license in the form of dodging and burning. To me, printing should be like that marvelous recipe your Grandmother passed down to your Mother - simple; any amount of tarting up just takes away from the utter simplicity of the original thing.
Anyway, scans below. Of course scanning can never duplicate the physical presence of a print, but you can get an idea - believe me, they do, on the whole, glow.































Please feel  free to comment - I am quite proud of these - they're printed about 8.5" x 8.5" on 9.5" x 12" paper and obviously I've cut the borders off to accomodate the image area in scanning . . . . 
Bruce Robbins reckons the look comes from a combination of light, surroundings and circumstance, and he could well be right. I'd set out to photograph some shoreline, but this being Scotland, it started pouring and I ended up getting stuck in the underpass bit of a certain well-known road bridge near me. It was really chucking outside, but inside it was weird and reflecty and damp and photographic! 
And yes, I know the third one has rendered me as a Brass Rubbing . . I quite like it. 
And I also know there's a bit of squintyness in the form of converging verticals - it was pretty dark in there.
Film as mentioned was FP4 - I like the look of it so much I am thinking it would be good to standardise on it - a truly great film.
And that's it really - I had a fantastic time photographing these and an even better time printing them.

TTFN and remember, pease pudding hot, pease pudding cold, pease pudding in the pot, nine days old.