Self Portrait With Doors

 
Morning folks - whilst we're waiting for the film stuff to drop as the kids say these days . . . here's a little digital oddity. 

And please don't worry film fans, consider this as an interlude in between the main meat and potatoes and the B-film. 
Look, there's an usherette down at the front, go and get yourself a Strawberry Mivvi and sit back down!

I recently bought myself a remote control (ML-L3) for the Nikon F750 and initially thinking it was knackered (apparently they don't work very well with Duracells) I decided to test it, and ended up with the picture you see below.

Self Portrait With Doors

It is quite a distance from the camera to me, and the control worked perfectly - all you need is a line of sight to the camera . . you don''t even have to point it EXACTLY at it, just its general vicinity.

The weird thing is, I am decidedly happy with said photo . . . 

As a long-time, now non-time, reader once said, I am always putting doors and gates and windows in pictures - could it be some weird Freudian indication of my inner feelings about art and self-expression? To which I will reply, after some years of reflection (and in the words of the psychiatrist in High Anxiety):

 . . Bullshit . . .

I just like them (doors, windows, gates etc etc).

Anyway, the journey to said photograph begins in the manner below - please bear in mind that I was playing, and as such, absolve myself of all responsibility as to their content or merit and the lack of . . . .

I think they're quite funny including the no-holds-barred horror selfie (5th photo).

Nice And Comfy

Is This Thing Working?

The Light Didn't Go On

It Didn't Go On Again

F'ing Technology - It's Still Not Going Off!

Maybe It Did That Time

Calm Returns - How Far Can This Thing Reach?

And that''s it!

Briefer than a wrong-way-around sparkly mankini!!

The lens was a 50mm f1.4 AF-G Nikkor - they're reasonably cheap for a prime and give an excellent quality image - well worth exploring. 

The remote is actually incredibly useful.

I've used it since like a faux cable release and MLU lever in a situation whereby the camera was precariously balanced on its tripod, on a bunch of brambles and was leaning into the subject - it worked great, zero movement and the added convenience of not getting your danglers entangled in sharp and scratchy bits.

When spare time comes and revisits me, then I shall get myself out with some more film, but in the meantime, and in the interests of keeping my fingers and brain engaged, thank you for reading.

It's a daft post, I completely agree.

TTFN and keep taking the pills y'bampot.

H xx

This Little Bird

 There's a little bird that somebody sends

Down to the earth to live on the wind.

Borne on the wind and he sleeps on the wind

This little bird that somebody sends.

He's light and fragile and feathered sky blue,

So thin and graceful the sun shines through.

This little bird who lives on the wind,

This little bird that somebody sends.

He flies so high up in the sky

Out of reach of human eye.

And the only time that he touches the ground

Is when that little bird

Is when that little bird

Is when that little bird dies.

© J. D. Loudermilk

Morning folks - a strange start I know, however, as with a lot of things these days, happenstance comes along and takes a thought process on a different route. 

I took the photographs in this blog a couple of days ago, on unfamiliar gear and trying to surmount a steep learning curve.

I was doing the dishes this morning and listening to one of the world's great radio stations - BOOM - it's in the UK and on the net . . (BOOM ROCK is superb too, but that is only net.) 

Anyway, Graham Dene - a DJ I have listened too since London days back in the mid 70's - played the Marianne Faithful version of J.D. Loudermilk's 'This Little Bird'.

I was immediately struck by its poignancy and relevance to a photograph I had been thinking about all night.

J.D. I think was referring to the Bluebird Of Happiness - a quaint and very old-fashioned thing,  yet so wonderfully powerful in its meaning. 

If only more people spent their time looking for it, rather than relishing some argy-bargy, the world could be a better place.

Am I the only person who loves the film K-PAX? 

Anyway - I am rambling as usual - back to the meat and potatoes - learning curves and unfamiliar gear.

Long-time readers will know that I am (to quote Joe Walsh) an Analogue Man.

I've dabbled with digital and more often than not hated it.

So, recently when hit with the phrase:

"We'd like you to do some colour photographs . . you're the official (and only) photographer . . ."

for my son's wedding . . . I thought long and hard.

The old Sony A6000 would not cut the mustard. 

In truth it was useless as a useable camera; the battery life was poor and it handled like an articulated lorry travelling at speed on an icy road. 

I thought even longer and harder about it and realised that I hated it.

(If ever a camera had been designed by someone who designed consumer goods (fridges etc) for a living, then it was almost the epitomy.)

I thought back to a Nikon D300 that I also used to own - again, no happiness there - I couldn't get my head around the crop factor and the lens I had with it, turned the whole thing into a boat anchor. It took decent photos though.

A brief passing: the Fuji 27mm f2.8 XF Lens coupled with an X-E2S - in truth a nice combo which proved to be unreliable.

I thought back further: a Canon EOS 50D with 40mm Pancake. Now that was a camera I enjoyed using (apart from the crop factor and being forced into buying a lens that was too long for my vision because of relative poverty at the time.) It felt like a proper camera though.

I remembered our stolen Lumix DMC-F5 - I used it, but it was definitely not a camera you could use for normal photography.

As you can see, I've had little luck on this front and it hasn't been for want of trying.

Why not use colour film? was a common suggestion . . . 

But have you seen the price of it? 

Also with something that will hopefully be treasured in years to come, the thought of doing my own C41 processing in the bath like I did a few years ago . . or surrendering such a precious cargo to the rigours of the postal system  (. . . oh sorry Guv - we've got no record of that . . . ) well it was too much to bear.

Plus, it would also have cost a fortune if I took a ton of pics.

In an ideal world, it would have been Tri-X in a Mamiya C330 for the main monkey-business and a Leica M2 for informals . . . but it isn't an ideal world and to be honest, travelling for a wedding means your weight constraints go out of the window . . .  A 330 in hand luggage . . . ? Hmmmmm.

So I retired to my hole in the ground and did a huge amount of reading; I asked really knowledgeable friends; I did more reading . . and came to a decision.

The Sony and some other camera gear was punted and I ended up with a nearly new Nikon D750 with a shutter count under 4K. In truth it looked barely used.

For lenses, well a 24mm natch (as I prefer the wider side of things); but for those all important wedding portraits?  Go for what you know (as Pat Travers once said) was the order of the day - so I got a very reasonably priced 50mm f1.4G.

The previous wedding I had photographed (our neice's) was centuries ago with a Nikon F2 and 50mm f1.4 pre-Ai so it seemed happenstansical.

Anyway, it worked. 

Once you get your head around the multitudinous options, the 750 handles like a proper camera. 

It's got a fantastic battery life, takes excellent images and is really a cinch to use. 

I am thoroughly enjoying it.

On the day itself it proved an accurate and reliable companion  . . . and . . . if the film world went belly-up tomorrow, I feel confident that this relatively small digital dinosaur would keep me going.

Surprised? So am I!!

Into this mix of something I've never really approached properly, this Wednesday past - came something else . . 

A ZOOOOOOOOOOM. 

The 70-300 VR Nikkor to be precise.

I have never got on with zooms, even though I own a pre-Ai 70-200 Nikkor (the legendary one). 

It's just never been my thing and I have hated the bulk and sheer "Oh bleeding hell - he's taking our photo . . . Go on darlin', HIT HIM!!!" OBVIOUS aspects of using one.

Friend Bruce has been exhorting me for years . . but I never capitulated. 

BAH! HUUUUUMBUUUUG!!

Anyway, getting the loan of one from my friend Neil and I thought, I really had better give it a go . . . and you know what . . it was a revelation.

No slinking about trying to serruptitiously snap passers by. 

Nope, I was going full-on-separation-of-colourful-elements-from-the-general-scene. 

Now THAT is a scene man . . 

Dead Gull

And that kind of brings me to the above photo.

Allow me to wax lyrical . . I was going to anyway.

Are those colours Pre-Raphaelite or what; they remind me of John Millais' Ophelia for some reason.

It's just a converted JPG straight from the orignal RAW file with nothing done to it.

No farting, no faffing and definitely no AI.

I saw the feathers mixed in with the other detritus, and thought 'that looks nice - shame about the piece of polystyrene but I'll include it as it's a bit of a 'don't shit where you eat' statement.'  

I zoooomed in, steadied the camera on a railing and took the picture.

It was only when I got home later and started looking big that I saw that the polystyrene is none other than the floating body of a Common Gull.

For all that seagulls are probably the most hated bird in Britain, they're in deep trouble. 

The changing world is changing their food supplies - it's actually no surprise they recourse to McDonalds and such-like. Indeed other seagulls too in times of need - pity they're not that bothered about Magpies.

The picture makes me feel deeply sad, and yet in death the remnants of this bird and the other detritus have achieved a strangely beautiful (to me) state of grace.

Normal, film-based stuff will resume soon - I crafted some prints back in about July - I firmly think they're the best prints I have ever made. 

I took them along to the forum and they barely elicited a murmur . . not that I take stuff along for comments, but these were as fine prints as I have ever made in decades of printing. 

As such I found it disheartening.

Hence the colour stuff.

I've actually always wanted to explore colour more - it is eminently suitable for grotography - and now I can to my heart's content with a digital camera that actually acts like a camera.

Anyway, that's about it - short and sweet.

We'll see where things go from here. I've been loaned an inkjet too, but just in case you've brought your tea up, I was in the darkroom printing just this week . . so all is right with the world.

Lonely Gull

Oh and the above - a lonely gull is probably wondering what has happened to their pal. 

It wrings yer withers doesn't it?

The concrete is the Tay Road Bridge and beyond you see what I believe to be the old foghorn foundations in the middle of the Tay - now beloved by cormorants.

Till the next time, keep taking the tablets and watch out for the normal people.

H xx

Photographing A 'Ghost'

A provocative title perhaps, however this is probably one of the strangest things that ever happened to me photographically.

Readers of FB will know that I have long railed against digital photography, however I have often used it!

Starting with the Lumix DMC-FS6, through to a Canon EOS 50D with 40mm pancake; a side road into a Sony A6000 with a Metabones adapter and then the Sony kit 16-50 lens; all via a visit into the world of biggish SLRs in the form of a D300 plus 18-70 DX zoooooom. 

I've actually owned more digital cameras than Bruce from the Online Darkroom, but not quite as many as my friend who must have gone through about 15 (and still has them).

My main thing (along with the inevitable: how am I going to keep this lot organised?) has also been the intangibility of medium. 

Sure it is there onscreen and you might have even printed it out . . . but it really isn't the same as reaching into a cabinet, locating the right folder and pulling out a sheet of negatives.

I find the stack-ups of duplicates and also-rans quite frustrating.

Now I realise the odds of me seeming normal in this nouveau world are about 20 Trillion To 1, so I have decided that rather than hiding in the corner, clutching my head, I am going to go down fighting.

As such I started reviewing all my old digital 'negatives'; trying to get stuff organised and unduplicated and into some sort of ship-shape and Bristol fashion.

And one morning, I got a surprise.

Entity or Tramp?

Many moons ago, whilst on holiday in Rome (and toting the D300 AND a Leica AND a small Lumix!) we came across this chap. 

It was very sad - Rome has plenty of homeless people, rather like most cities these days - you just feel so helpless. 

Anyway, after some debate and the fact he seemed to look sooo peaceful (despite his lot in life) I quickly stepped back and took the above photograph.

Walking off down the road I debated with myself, simply because I am not fond of such photography. Anyway, a couple of hundred yards away, we looked back and there he was, standing upright. 

He was making pulling movements with his hands rather like he was bringing in a net. 

I thought it very strange. 

As he was looking back down the road at us, it also looked like he almost knew us and was being friendly and doing some sort of strange wave.

Off his nut I thought in typical Scots fashion and thought no more of it, until, after an exhausting day in red-hot heat, we got back to our hotel and I had a quick review of the images.

He wasn't there.

VERY ODD were my initial thoughts - I hunted through the memory card plenty more times, but him and his image had definitely vanished into thin air.

I'm not given to too many flights of fancy these days, however, the more I thought on this, the more I wondered if maybe I had photographed 'someone' or 'something' I wasn't meant to photograph.

Had his gesticulating and the pulling in of his 'net' actually been something else?

Had he actually taken back the image I had taken from him?

Daft eh?! Well, I am usually up early and drink too much tea, so you can probably add those into the equation.

You could probably call my thinking fanciful - I certainly did over the intervening years. 

I reviewed my Rome images more times than I can remember; playing out that scenario in my head loads of times, to no avail. 

But no matter what I thought, one thing was certain . . . . 

He had gone.

Then, a few weeks back, whilst having a weed-out of old photos (all [before you question my storage options] from the same place they are usually stored) - there he was.

Still asleep on that warm Roman morning; as peaceful as ever, but back in my life.

I was so shocked (and joyful!) I immediately called t'missus (who had obviously known about it from day one.)

She was pretty astonished too.

I have no idea how this happened (or indeed what happened) but it did, and just as I have told it. 

Did I photograph something or someone I was never meant to photograph? 

Is it possible that they pulled back that digital file . . and if so . . why has it reappeared now?

Was there any chance the physical world (albeit 1's and 0's) could be disrupted in such a way?

I really don't know - there's far more going on (despite our pretensions) than we're ever aware of in my opinion.

Whatever it was that happened, I have no real explanation.

And indeed no LOGICAL explanation either.

All I can say now is that if he/it was operating on some other plane, maybe they could help me get back my old Lumix which was (how shall we say?) requisitioned by some lovely person after being accidentally left on a park bench for 5 minutes on that same holiday . . . . 

Till the next time. watch out for the explicable.

H xx

Return To Sender

Good morning folks I trust everyone is well and keeping fit and getting themselves prepared for Winter, because it is coming!

Oh yes, as they say around these parts "The nights are fair drawing in" . . . you can sense it early mornings too, apart from the lesser levels of light, there's also that Autumnal feel to the air.

Hard to believe that we're only just a wee bit along from the Solstice and we've already had a proper storm.

Anyway, Winter - photographically it's a time of year I tend to prefer. 

I like the HARD shadows and the angle of the Sun. 

It can make for quite dramatic compositions.

But in the meantime, and until it sets in properly, we have sun and rain . . . and wind.

Thankfully my large portion of decoration is done for a bit. 

I must have painted the best part of 250 m² of wall and ceiling and actually had to deal with a hallway containing ten doorways and one large walk-in cupboard and their associated woodwork! 

At such points (and at such an age) your body starts to complain a bit - not sure if any of you have suffered from Roller Grip, but it is ferking painful and has manifested itself in something that frankly feels like the start of an arthritic joint on the knuckle of my index finger. 

Combat Decoration is a young man's game, though I actually see now that I probably could've done it for a living. 

(If I do say so myself) I do a nice clean job and after half a day's practice my freehand cutting with oil paint is very very neat indeed; but as an occupation I think it would have been purgatory and in all honesty I reckon it wouldn't have just been the wallpaper that was hanging. 

Anyway, I am done now I can get back into the darkroom.

Tower Bridge

I actually HAD to restart printing because I wanted to show stuff at the DCA Forum and I literally had nothing to show. 

Normally I take along carefully crafted landscapes; printed usually 8.5" x 8.5"' on 9.5" x 12"'' paper and they really work for me; even when I had to move down to 10" x 8" paper, the level of craft in them was still the same. They're something I am proud of.

But time was of the essence, and considering I hadn't used a MF camera since May, And I had to take something . . . out came a new toy. 

An Agilux easel - the Agimask 75 - all metal. 

Made in England. 

Goodness knows how old . . . . 

The (Newly Painted) Flat Black Bit Is The Upper Frame Edge

I was given it a while back, so gave it a go and was going to pass it on again (as I thought it was fairly worthless) but looking at it closer and with a different mindset, I thought gosh that's actually perfect for postcards or 6" x 4" paper  . . . . and you know what, it is! 

It's one caveat is you cannot adjust the side of the border on the top left edge. 

You are always going to be a fixed couple of millimetres of border and so you have to adjust the sliding L-shaped bit accordingly. 

But it is solid and it works pretty well - certainly better than say a small Durst frame; it's one main problem is that the gripping edge of the top L-part shape of the frame is a hammered aluminium with a pretty shiny looking finish. 

Given as I was printing from very overexposed negatives and obviously had to expose them for considerably longer than one would normally expect (even at f11) I was consequently getting shine off the aluminium which was resulting in a line of darker exposure on the print. 

So out came the ever handy tub of Tamiya Flat Matt Acrylic modelling paint (if you need to touch up matt bits on cameras, this is good [but not perfect as there can sometimes be a mild sheen] however base it against the outrageous costs of optical matt paint and I would say it isn't half bad). 

Anyway, a couple of quick coats along the offending bits of metal and a blast with a hairdryer and we were good to go.

And you know what? It worked a treat and a great deal better and easier  than my LEITZ wooden easel from the 1950s. 

I used to use that for postcards but I found that the spring metal grippers actually used to slide out of position and I wasted a huge amount of paper even after doing daft things - like custom cutting a L-shaped frame of card and taping it to the board, and crafting rubber bungs to shove in the side 'oles to stop the mechanism moving. 

So from now on, Agilux it is.

I do profess a deep love for postcards - to me they're a beautiful way of presenting a 35mm negative - small enough to enquire a closer look, but not so big as you loose the effect, or go, ooooo, that's not sharp at all. In other words, in a world full of hyper-real photographs that are razor-sharp from front to back, the postcard represents a small piece of lovingly crafted ART that is good to hold and good to look at. 

If you're a committed 35mm photographer - try printing some - it might just surprise you. 

You can also add a proper stamped back too (what a shame Ilford stopped printing a proper postcard back on this paper).

And on with the pictures.

Normally (if you've read this load of old borrocks long enough) you'll know that I tend to mostly produce landscapes. 

It is highly unusual for me to take pictures of people and when I do, they tend to just be in the scene accidentally. 

Well when I was on holiday last year (amongst the cut and thrust of London) I had little choice but to include people - often lots - and I quite enjoyed it! 

I think it is an area I shall pursue more . . . the lifeless urban shot is over - bring on the folks!

Mostly they were taken with the old 1958 Canon L2 with the 1950's 35 mm rangefinder Nikkor - a superlative lens, just the right amount of coating and very sharp (in 35mm terms). 

Although again, as with all things, there is a caveat and that is that it is very difficult to adjust the Aperture, but Hey Ho, it is almost a "set it and forget it" lens anyway.

Oh and they're all scanned off of prints made on 6x4" Ilford Portfolio - Pearl finish - as nice a paper as you could wish. 

The chocolatey tone is imparted by Ilford PQ Universal developer at 1+9 . . . not Selenium.

Soho Square - Everyone Was High Or Drunk . . 
Apart From The Chinese Girl Playing

The Globe

Piccadilly

Tower Bridge

Holborn

Horizon 22

Sadly at The Forum, I didn't get too many comments, though one was:

"They look old!" 

Yeah I suppose they do - never really thought about it like that.

I enjoyed printing them though - some 20 cards over two mornings - not too shabby - I am slowly bringing myself back to life - fingers crossed that things improve . . they couldn't have been much worse to be honest.

You can stick that paintbrush where you couldn't fit a 5 litre tin of Emulsion . . . 

Till the next time - remember An Apple A Day Keeps The Doctor Away . . . especially if you throw it hard enough.

H xx

The River Of Life

Morning folks - well a very reflective thought for today's post.

Rivers - well, what can I say. I've spent all of my life either near one, right on top of one, or finding one accidentally; from the Grand Union Canal in London - home of many childhood fishing exploits with ancient knackered gear, though to one of Scotland's great trout rivers, to now, living near the mighty Tay, I've always been around them. I've never been happier on holiday than when we've been near a river and especially, when I get to explore new turf (as it were.)

But now as life moves on, the metaphorical presence of rivers comes more to mind. 

We're all on a journey from source to sea; we arrive, new at that springhead and move onto broader straights, narrows, pools and rapids, until finally we're there on the shores of a greater mass of water - largely unknown and kind of frightening in a way, and yet, it is made of the same stuff as we have known all our life. 

And darkness too.

Don't forget that. 

The same darkness we sprang out of in those high uplands; the end is both the source and the end.

And that is only metaphorically.

The literal meat and potatoes, from the small splashing burn, through the falls and onto the mighty tidal reaches of an estuary, they've all shaped me.

I suppose one can see wind as a form of water, but dry, that moves and shapes the land - that is a fascination and a current and future way of working for me . . yeah it's borrowed from Blakemore again, but he was well ahead of the curve. 

It would probably be easier to do this on digital, but hey-ho, I am a curmudgeonly Old Hector.

Anyway as I get older, the more I shrink from how man is largely becoming disassociated from nature. 

I see people on their phones and embracing this and that technological advancement; I see really truly young children scrolling on screens faster than a teenager; I see Swiftys (Single White Female In A [Chelsea] Tractor) unthinking about the future of their grandchildren; I see Ignorance being regarded as Power; I see the very real rise of the robots - a thing that the great thinkers of the last century said was supposed to make our lives easier and yet the more I see it, the more I hope for the Butlerian Jihad (go on . . look it up).

I am sure people of every generation have felt this before, but to be honest all I want to do is hunker down, preferably under a tarp, and listen to the rain on the canvas, and hear the river rushing by. 

No connection to 'modernity' at all. 

Because for all we think we're the bees-knees, we're really incredibly simple.

I've written about this before on FB, but now it has more pertinence than ever to me.

Anyway, what is it with me and rivers, or indeed any body of water?

I can't say more than it is part of me. (But you did just say that y'berk!)

So, to that end. we recently had a lovely holiday, in an amazing lodge in a truly ancient setting. 

The site was the loop of a river - when viewed from above, it bears strong resemblance to stone-age carvings. 

A Christian site was established there in about 640 AD (not unusual for early Christianity to appropriate early pagan sites); this was burned to the ground in the 850's and a new church set up in the 1150's (!) this too was burned down in the 1300's and the place was largely left alone after that. 

It is actually an incredibly good defensive site as the drop to the river is steep and prolonged. 

At one time there was a defensive ditch cast across the 'peninsula',

Anyway, whether it was the 'difficult' to photograph situ or just a general malaise on my behalf, I found it near impossible to take a picture - only three 120's in a week - that is something of a non-record for me. 

It was also virtually impossible to get to the river in a lot of places given the steepness of the banking and I was left utterly frustrated way above the rush and tumble, on high banks covered with trees . ..  so I thought, I know what . . . I'll take some trees . . .  and other things.

As I've mentioned before I was long an admirer of John Blakemore's use of a Press Shutter to take multiple exposures of landscapes. Not being the owner of a Press Shutter and indeed these days seriously pondering getting rid of the LF gear, I have adopted another methodology - that of the fairly long exposure.

Yes I know, everyone and their chimp does that these days . . cue the horrific waterfall shots of which I am a participant.

In my case though, it is more an urge TO NOT TAKE A PRETTY PICTURE, more that I like to see how time and weather react with a landscape.

I don't just use a ND filter either - I've found I can get satisfying results using a red (Hoya Red R1 or equivalent) - I know what people say about using a red filter, however in the right circumstances (in my case, in heavy shade with glimpses of sun) it can be a surprisingly versatile companion.

A lot of these exposures were long - ranging from around 15 seconds to a full-on 175 seconds!

I have also in recent times taken on a new development regime.

If you read FB long enough you'd discover that I went through a long patch whereby I only used Pyrocat-HD - a truly wonderful developer. 

But when my home-brew and Wet Plate Supplies quantities ran out, I stopped using it in favour of somethng else that was a bit faster in time, still gave me good compensation on the inevitable deep shadow/bright sun combos and was more readily available (Nik and Trik make a version of PHD for over here, but part A is not made with Glycol - I've got some but have yet to use it.)

Anyway, Rodinal and its copies . . to-wit . . Fomadon R09. 

It's an incredibly versatile developer, but can be a little heavy-handed if you're not careful. 

So I've been trying it at the dilution of 1+75 . . and have discovered it to be really excellent for perceived sharpness AND compensation for regions of a negative that fall over Z VII.

I've also discovered a renewed love for Ilford's FP4 (but worraboot the BLOBBIES I hear you shout . .  more of that in a minute ***) which I use at EI 80.

With 1+75 R09, I give it 30 seconds of constant agitation and then 4 gentle but firm twirls with a Paterson twirly Stick every 10 seconds. Development time is 9 mins 30 seconds and it renders the negatives absolutely fine, so long as you've given them plenty of exposure.

I used to expose on Z III cos Ansel said you should, but then after reading an article by Bruce Barnbaum I started placing shadows on Z IV, and with this combo it really works.

The thing about the Zone System, is that it is a brilliant way of viewing light and getting something akin to what you are seeing in the flesh on a negative, but you also have to remember it was written for older materials and largely sheet film. 

You can obsess to the nth degree about values and such-like (and I HAVE read all the peripheral publications - Zone VI Workshop, etc etc; all those concerned young men with beards and densitometers) and truly belive that no matter what, you can often fix tonal mistakes realatively simply in the printing process.

Another hint came from Sir Ralph Gibson . . . he said if a print wasn't emerging in the way he wanted in the developer (ie he'd not exposed it enough, etc) he simply flipped it over in the developer, turned off the safelight and left the darkroom. I've done this quite often for up to and around 8 minutes with nary a hint of fog, but what it does is carry on developing the highlights. 

(Gibson said he'd been interrupted by the phone during a session, had flipped the print over, taken the call and when he came back a while later, looked at the print and liked what he saw.)

So, say you've got a print with heavy shadow and really ott highlights, you can balance the exposure of the print so that the shadows come to full development and the bits that look pretty white (when the shadows are developed) will carry on developing and actually balance themselves within the print. 

It's not perfect science and should be viewed with the idea of EXPERIMENTATION in your head.

I suppose it is a mild form of preflash or even split trousers without the wizard's cloak.

You should try it - it works.

*** Yeah but worraboot the BLOBBIES?

OK - you may have noticed a while back my avowed intent to stop using Ilford film, simple because of the terrible mottle. It has destroyed a few films of mine.

So, having a convo with Bruce, he mentioned that wetting agent was used on Ilford's film and the instructions are not to use a waterbath pre-development. 

Wetting agents are part and parcel of the coating process for every manufacturer - they're needed to provide a consistent surface layer on the carrier, but the more I thought about it, the more I wondered whether the mottle was somehow allied to wetting agent. 

It sort of looked bubbly and weird and something that could be allied to random bubbles. 

So I took some FP4 from a batch which I'd stopped using, and gave it a proper waterbath before developing. 

We're talking at a minimum 5 minutes - sometimes up to 10 whilst I get everything else ready. And, so far, I've not had the dreaded blobbies. 

Now this could all be bullshit on my behalf - I don't know. 

All I know is maybe you should try it . . .

Anyway, after all that THE TREES . .  well a couple anyway.

Below are all scans off of some of the prints - there's very few because time has not been on my side (so stick that up your hosepipe Sir Mick!)

All prints were made on Foma 111 fibre and approximately Grade 4 - I've found it really needs that contrast boost as a paper.

It's also curlier than a bag full of Quavers . . and has literally taken over a month to straighten out - honest I took these to the Forum, took them out of their sleeves and I had what looked like curls of dried fish sitting on the table - any presence from the prints was utterly ruined by people going: "What the Feck??!!"

The pictures aren't much, but they're my Not Much.

And that is it for the moment . . normal service will be resumed shortly.

I've just spent two weeks painting what must be well over 200 square meters of wall and ceiling (and ELEVEN [!!] doorways) and am kerknackered, but strangely enthused to go and take photos again.

Be good and keep taking the tablets.

H xx

This piece was made with a lovely iMac from Neil - hi Neil, and a CD of Brian Eno's Discrete music - a piece of music which describes the descriptors perfectly. Both pieces of technology, granted, but really quite 'innocent' when one thinks of the changes that will be coming down the line in the next few years.

The Drought

Morning folks, I hope you are well - well despite my moanin' and a groanin' a wee while back, times have been extraordinarily productive recently. 

Spring into Summer saw me going out most weeks to take pictures of something (anything) and it has been fun. 

To that end I've had a ton of images to print and so I started having a massive thunk about printing, why I do it and what best to do with my favourite images and how to make a proper show of things.
So I started to ask myself the question of what to print stuff on. 

Now there's a question with as many questions as answers.

I was a fibre man for many years - college set me on that path - none of this RC, non-archival nonsense - NO! - selenium toning and dry mounting for yer best efforts was the way . . get 'em out on display, let people swoon at your genius . . . but what about the others? . . well, cough, perhaps that old print box to store all those grotty attempts on 8x10. 

Oh yes, easy peasy . . . 

But in reality it became not so.

No dry mounting press - try and find a good one . . . . 

Nobody to look at these things save me, my family and you lot . . . .

So consequently as time moved on, I began to acquire a MOUNTAIN of prints that are sitting about, smoking tabs, taking up loads of room and generally causing loads of trouble.

Foma Variant 112

I don't know about you, but as you go on in life, you begin to wonder what on earth is going to happen to all this creative time and effort that you've put in over the years, and truth be told, it will end up in a bin somewhere.

Who's going to take care of it? It's a theme I have explored before, but having been surrounded by death in recent times, it has given the thought a certain piquance to say the least.

It's a huge responsibility - and I don't mean that in artistic terms, but more in the:

"Oh JEEEEZ, it's Dad's prints . . .What are we going to do with them? 

Have you got any space? 

Me neither. 

But we can't just throw them out can we? 

Well, actually, I thought he'd probably prefer it if we kept a few and burned the rest . . sort of like a Viking Burial, but fibre-based . . . "

Tough eh. Facing one's own mortality in the terms of:

"Have I ever actually produced anything of worth . . .?"

So, to that end, I started thinking why not build something that has enough gravitas behind it to make someone think twice. 

Why not go out in a blaze of glory and PRINT UP A STORM! 

Dammit, do not go quietly into the good night, rage rage against the dying of the light . . .

So thinking serious; archival and gravitas (with a capital G, natch) I went through all my options.

Oh boy, believe me, there aren't that many any more. 

But what about the stuff on Ebay? I hear you cry . . well, unless you want to take a risk on ancient and usually badly stored paper, fine . . but trust me it is usually a waste of time, being the result of dead people's darkroom clearouts. 

Battered, beyond ancient and usually ghastly and muddy, not to mention the sellers who show you the paper just to prove you're getting the real deal! 

Trust me on this - don't bother.

So NEW paper - please remember I am writing this in the UK - things might well be different in your territory, but looking at stock levels at the likes of Fotoimpex, I don't think I am far wrong:

Ilford - MGFB, MGRC, MGFB Warm, MGRC Warm, MGRC Cool, Portfolio. And I think that's it.

Kentmere - RC - all sorts of sizes and a nice paper though thinner than a sheet of Izal.

Fotospeed - as RC papers go it is definitely one of the nicer ones - a good weight last time I used it and a very nice emulsion too.

Bergger - Neutral (if you can find it buy it - too expensive to produce now [and that is straight from Bergger]); Bergger - Warm - it still seems to be around.

Adox - nothing over here and indeed getting to be nothing over there.

Rollei - ditto.

Foma - pretty much only the three FB papers in the UK - Warmtone 131 and 132; Variant 111 and 112; Retrobrom 151 and 152. There's no RC over here, and some really strange production line choices like "Pastel" over there.

So you're basically down to two manufacturers and that is it, and although Foma papers seem to be very well regarded and they're very nice papers actually, it's almost like we're at:

Universal Image Carrier Time.

So, if you're a serious darkroom worker, or even just a plain ol' hobbyist like me . . the winner is:

Ilford Multigrade.

Wow - who would have guessed it, for though it is a very fine product indeed with the highest standards of quality control and image quality . . don't you just hanker for a bit of choice?

For myself, after umming and awing about this that and the other . . very nearly jumping at Portfolio (simply because it is a very beautiful paper to use and the fact it dries dead flat lends it some gravitas [compared to most fibre prints which have more cockles than an East End seafood stall]) I've decided to standardise everything and print my 6x6 negatives at 6.75" in all directions on 10x8" MGFB and then sleeve them in Secol sleeves. 

You'll maybe notice I've only said 6x6 . . well I have kind of given up on 35mm, and LF is (these days) both a pain in the arse and extremely difficult for me to use, being as I am getting to be as blind as a bat in lowlight conditions.

To be honest, I've also got really fed up recently with prints of all different shapes and sizes from formats of all different shapes and sizes (from 35mm to 6x12 by way of the curious 25x106mm Russian pano format) and varying surfaces from dead matt through to full gloss.

I've also worked my way through hundreds of sheets of gifted, but well outdated, MGRC and generally, though learning, in image terms I think I've been completely wasting my time. 

As you get older time becomes both precious and vital - it's like spawning salmon (!) so it is about time I stopped wasting that time and did something solid. Something that can punch back and might, just might,  slip through THE INEVITABLE SKIP .

Ilford Portfolio (Pearl)

OK - so I wrote that over a month ago.

In that time, I've thought a lot more.

And to that end, I have kind of thought, feck longevity - print it properly on Portfolio. 

Enjoy life whilst you can. 

It dries nicely and looks professional, plus the whole archival wash sequence isn't quite as vital. 

I know the more serious amongst you will be wringing your hands (though hopefully I won't get "Die, Die, Die" which Bruce at the Online Darkroom received as a comment when he wrote about iphone photography . . . )

Honest, I did persevere with fibre, and have tried drying to get stuff cockle-free, but such is the coldness and humidity of Scotland that it is nearly impossible without dry-mounting. 

I even dragged a HUGE ancient Photax flatbed drier home on the bus to try it out, and you know what - it was useless. 

I simply cannot dry a fibre print without the edge being wavy and to be honest, whilst Portfolio is RC it's got some weight to it and like I said dries really nicely. 

There's a rich glow of greys when it is printed in Pearl.

The final thing I will say about it, is, for some reason, it is SIGNIFICANTLY MORE EXPENSIVE than MGFB . . who would have thought it - I'd better get my kidneys up on Ebay . . . . 

It is also hard to find - very few places stock it.

If you've never used it, get a box of 6x4 and give it a shot - you might be pleasantly surprised.

So that's as it stands for the moment.

I am going to have a huge chuck out of 'work' prints and start working on exhibition prints. 

I might not exhibit them, but hopefully, the craft skills I put into them will add some weight to matters, so that when the inevitable occurs, someone isn't just going to roll their eyes and toss them.

And that's it - if you can add anything to this in terms of paper availability, feel free - same with drying fibre paper. I have literally tried most things, so you'd better come up with something good 😆

Take care, and remember:

"Pick your swoagles whilst you can, they don't stay fresh for long."

H xx

For A Brother

Morning folks - hope you are well.

Today's post if going to go all sombre and yet possibly uplifting on you.

It's funny how other people can touch one's life, and not just in the obvious ways like familiial stuff, the kindness of strangers etc etc etc.

No, it is more how things can percolate down the line, so that years later, the smallest thing can be seen to be significant in a way that you only partly understood at the time.

Back in the early 2000's, I was having a conversation on the telling-bone, with my brother - he lived a very long way away indeed in British terms and I lived here on the East coast of Scotia - anyway, during this conversation he said to me . . and this is a direct quote:

"You used to take a good photograph . . ."

And this alluded to (methinks) those dread Polaroid selfies that I wrote about a while back - he'd sort of liked them. We talked some more and he said it some more.

What?

He hadn't even seen any of my Blakemore-alike college landscapes, nor any of my ambitious (yet who gave a monkey's banana?) 'fine' prints, and yet, to him something had stuck and he said it.

And he encouraged me.

Och, I don't know what happened, but it was like a switch being switched on and I once again began to think photographically.

After I graduated (bleedin' years and years ago) I'd wanted to become a proper darkroom worker, but opportunity never smiled, and I gave up the idea in pursuit of becoming the next Jeff Beck. 

All monies were dedicated to the six string sling, and I forgot about my previous ambition for about 17 years. 

Certainly, I did have a camera (an Olympus MjU courtesy of my [soon to be] darling wife) but family life kicked along and that was purely used in the domain of holiday snaps. 

It never occurred to me to go out and seriously take photographs. 

I regret that - what a shame - this City underwent profound changes in those times and I missed it.

So what did I do - yep - I skipped some pension payments and bought myself (with the encouragement of my wife [thanks hon!]) a mid-60's Rollei T and never looked back.

Anyway, life moves on, time passes and eventually people shuffle off this mortal coil; such has recently been the case with my brother who finally succumbed to the dread Big C.

So this post is for him, because, if he hadn't said those words and kickstarted that way of thinking again for me, I probably would never have produced the pictures in this post.

Nor indeed probably any of the content on this blog going all the way back to 2012.

So thank you brother - you stimulated a creative nerve and re-introduced me to a form of self-expression which I still find ultimately satisfying.

The Beyond

Life Flows

These are scans off of real 'fine' prints made on Bergger fibre paper, by me, in my darkroom.

Apparently the Bergger paper is too expensive to manufacture for the moment . . . oh dear - I reckon it is another R.I.P. 

The pictures were taken with a Hasselblad Superwide, on ancient Ilford SFX.

I used a cheapo Kood R72 (equiv) filter and developed the film in Fomadon R09.

Do I have a big smug look on my face? 

You betcha - I could exhibit these were I so inclined, but above all else I find them enormously satisfying.

I forgot to say, that whilst I was taking these in a quiet gorge, with early morning light lifting the trees and setting them over the dense shadows, something remarkable (well remarkable to me) occurred.

A bat flew past me, gently whisked down to the burn, grabbed an insect and nonchalantly flew back past me. 

I've never seen a bat in daytime. 

It is apparently very highly unusual.

Old friend Canadian Bob always says: "Watch for the signs".

Hmmmmm.

Anyway, life goes on, and as a darkroom worker, despite being painted into a corner by lack of people printing and hence the range of traditional photographic papers diminishing rapidly, I still think the silver gelatin print is as valid a form of expression now as it ever was - I just wish more people did it.

And that's it - short but sweet.

But please do me a favour - listen to people. 

Listen to them properly - not just paying lip service and thinking about the next thing you're going to say.

And do me another favour whilst you're at it - encourage them. 

No matter how small or trite what they're doing is - maybe it is ambitious; maybe it is nothing more than scribbling a million Peppas away on a kitchen table or jotting something short (but beautiful) in a notebook. 

Please encourage them.

I think of all the things you can give to people, encouragement is probably the greatest. 

It makes a difference whether you know it or not.

Over and out and till next time - keep watching for the signs.

H xx