Showing posts with label 1934 Leitz Elmar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1934 Leitz Elmar. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 17, 2019

Little Arithmetics - In Praise Of An Old 'Junker'

NO, it's not got that bad!
We're not talking about German Bombers from WWII, we're talking about olden lenses, y'know, those bits of glass you have hanging around (with some big romantic ideal attached to them) but haven't used yet.


The Portal.
Edinburgh, 2016
Leica M2, Canon Serenar 28mm f3.5, Ilford HP5+, Pyrocat-HD



Sometimes things can creep up and take you by surprise - such is the case with this photograph. 
It was taken on a lazy Saturday in Edinburgh, with the M2 and Canon Serenar 28mm f3.5 lens. 
I just thought it commonplace when I originally printed it, but now . . well . . . there was something about it that arrested my thinking.
To me it looks like the mannequins are actually walking through some portal into some 'other' place - I am knocked out by it. 
Are they leaving the material world behind, escaping through a time portal to a simpler time that somehow exists/doesn't exist. 
Do you see what I mean?
It's just so Space Age to my eyes that I instantly want to don my silver lamé suit and join them!
The lowly Canon Serenar has just given things that wonderful glow you get from single or uncoated lenses.
Strangely it also looks a tad 'fossil-digital' (y'know, that plastic look early digital photos had) - it isn't - I've cropped the original negative slightly, but that is about it - it's a scan off a print.

Thinking about the look of this, set me along other paths and I realised that I had another lens that was even older, and totally uncoated. Last time I'd used it I wasn't that impressed, but then I hadn't got a lens hood for it at that point.

So watcha talking about the Sheepy? Garn, spill the beans then . . . .

Well, we're only going on about a lens that is pretty damn old, from the dawn of 35mm photography. Indeed, it is almost the grand-daddy of them all . . the 50mm f3.5 Leitz Elmar.
The serial number of mine is 212290 which dates it to 1934. Concurrent with Hitler and the rise of the Nazi Party . . .  what has it seen and more to the point:

Why was I mad enough to make it my film lens of choice for a once in a lifetime holiday?


Another Portal
The Colosseum, June 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Kodak 400TX, Pyrocat-HD



It's a really strange move isn't it?
Risking everything.
As they used to say when I was young

"Would you risk it for a Swisskit?"

Well, I did. I threw caution to the wind, and there was a reason for this.
Here's the long and dull story:

For 10-odd years, we've had a 'holiday' camera - a wee Panasonic DMCF which has done a not bad job of detailing all our holidays, old caravan ones, and our expansion out into the world of travel when we could afford to do so.
It has done very well, but was starting to show its age - the screen was going and it had dents but it still took a decent picture.
I'd been wanting to upgrade for a while and I addressed this a few years ago with the purchase of a Sony A6000 - a fine wee camera, which sort of did a couple of holidays, though I was never truly happy with it - this being said:


Kotor Inflatable.
Kotor, Monetenegro, 2017
Sony A6000, 35mm f2, Nikkor-O



Dream On
Kotor, Monetenegro, 2017
Sony A6000, 35mm f2, Nikkor-O



Ghosts Take Selfies
Dubrovnik, Croatia, 2017
Sony A6000, 35mm f2, Nikkor-O



As you can see, it's colour rendition is really rather good.
I was using it in the above with a 35mm Nikkor 'O' pre-Ai lens with a Metabones adapter. Obviously the lens contributes vastly to everything, but all the same, the Sony made a decent fist of these RAW files.
OK - please don't turn off - I know, it's digital, my avowed Nemesis!
But at least I am still trying to sharpen my eye.

I'm not happy they don't exist as Cibachrome prints though.

Believe me, as someone who did quite a lot of Cibachrome back in the 80's . . they would look stunning on Ilford's long junked, Prints From Transparencies system . . . it had its own look - the colours were rich, vibrant, deep and extremely beautiful. It took a lot of work just to produce a single print, but if you got it right then that effort was rewarded manifold.

Actually, that's given me an idea - maybe I will expand into colour printing in the future, proper colour from negatives and using the filters on the DeVere, but for the meantime, these digital files will have to satisfy an occasional colourful itch.

Anyway, holidays!
Rome!!
Ah yes, hot, busy, beautiful and ancient; the partial country of my forefathers, and we'll be taking pics too!
So, there I was, planning on using the Sony for this holiday, when Chopper (son and also nemesis) said he fancied a 'proper' camera for a 3 week European road trip.
He does leave these thing to the last minute, but un-phased, I initially thought film and so did he.
However seeing as he's never handled a 'normal' camera in his life, with 2 weeks to go till he left, then any thoughts of a nice Nikkormat were oot the windae.
So, digital it was and in a state of I Can Tak It, I said:

"Here y'go son"

handed him the Sony and a Sony E 16-50mm f3.5-5.6 OSS lens (its kit lens, but actually alright) and said:

"Awa y'go!"

But that left me in a conundrum in the colour, holiday snap department and in typical Sheephouse fashion,

I went totally over the top.

Now, no doubt you know people that go OTT when purchasing something, but I've been giving them lessons.
For me it involves hours of research and scouring, reading, watching and mulling.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, I ended up with another DSLR.

Eagle-eyed readers will remember a few years back I owned a Canon D50S - a sort of OK camera, which I actually traded for the Sony.
Anyway, TCALSS (to cut along story short) after some umming, I ended up with a used Nikon D300S and a 18-55 Zoom Nikkor.
Both things you'll know are (if you've read FB for any length of time at all) anathema to me.

But there y'go, with under a week to go to get myself sorted with something for holiday snaps, I had to make a stand and as it turns out chose wrongly.
Oh there's nothing wrong with the camera and the lens is alright, but if you've ever hauled a ship's anchor around in 30+ Degrees of heat, you'll know that such things as image quality pretty quickly lose their charm.
Allied to this is the bulk of a semi-pro camera.

My goodness, the professionals who hauled Nikon F2's around had it easy.

The F2 (a large and heavy all mechanical SLR) is positively sveldt by comparison . . and actually a darn site easier to use.

HOLD YOUR HATS - HE'S ABOUT TO GO OFF ON ONE!

To me, picture making is (or should be) a relatively simple process:

Focus, aperture, time, 'click' and wind-on. 

It definitely shouldn't be:

Check what mode you're in, check focus, zoom a bit, check focus again, oh wait a minute, I am in manual so I have to use a fucking wheel on the camera to adjust the aperture, and then, and then . . . ooo a picture.

It is crippling from the creative pov.

Fortunately, I had also decided I was going to take a 'normal' camera and shoot black and white too - enter the Leica M2, some lovely Ilford HP5+, FP4+ and my last roll of Tri-X. I've no qualms about travelling with film these days - it is simple.
But I needed a lens. I could have taken the 35mm Summaron or the 28mm Serenar, but instead in some weird alternate universe decided in me heed that what I needed was uncoated and old . . . enter the Elmar.

From the first frame the camera and lens combo proved to be a revelation - for a start I could carry it without resorting to a team of sherpas.
In use it was lightning fast - I'd do a quick Sunny 16 style calculation in my head, set the aperture, set the shutter speed, focus 'click' and carry on.

I had no idea what I had, but slightly over-exposing what I thought would do seemed to work quite well, especially using a staining developer like Pyrocat-HD.

Funny to think of the difference an experience can make, because I'd actually had a lucky escape - not three weeks before we left I was talking and seriously thinking again about selling all my Leica gear and getting something else . . . well not now.

No Way Hosepipe.

I will never be parted from the M2 - it is too intuitive and simple and light and quiet and just so completely the opposite of what a DSLR is, as to be a product from the different planet.

If you're a photographer, try and give one a go (or something similar from one of the many other manufacturers who made small light, FAST, quiet cameras).
Go on  - you owe it to yourself.


Who Are You And Why Are You In My Way?
The Colosseum, June 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Kodak 400TX, Pyrocat-HD




Another Portal
The Colosseum, June 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Kodak 400TX, Pyrocat-HD




Peaceful Remains
Rome, 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Ilford FP4+, Pyocat-HD




An Island Of Calm.
Rome, 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Ilford HP5+, Pyocat-HD




Peace In The City
Rome, 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Ilford FP4+, Pyrocat-HD




Rest
Rome, 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Ilford FP4+, Pyrocat-HD




Folk Go Bonkers For The Swimming Bear
Rome, 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Ilford FP4+, Pyrocat-HD



Much Weirdness
Rome, 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Ilford FP4+, Pyrocat-HD




Temple Of Asclepius At Dusk
Rome, 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Ilford HP5+, Pyrocat-HD




Formal Fountain
Rome, 2019
Leica M2, 50mm f3.5 Elmar, Ilford HP5+, Pyrocat-HD


And onto the lens.
Well what can I say.
It's really old.
It certainly isn't the most ergonomic thing ever made; changing aperture isn't at all easy on the fly, BUT, it collapses (so that the whole camera is about as small as you can get in film terms short of going Minox) and as seen above produces results that are interesting, softly beautiful and quite unlike any other lens.
The Fison hood has definitely made a huge difference - it is a really well made little hood, thoroughly blackened inside and incredibly compact.

The one caveat I would add about it, is that using the knurled screw to clamp it onto the front of your Elmar can mar the lenses finish, so, a small strip of masking tape around the front to adhere to the knurled part of the Elmar provides a very positive gripping surface.
I'd also add that most OLD Elmars have caps that don't stay on!
Ah yes, a round of applause from the back!
True though - this is the result of the compression of the felt inside the ring of the cap over decades of use.
Here's an easy solution if you don't mind your felt being old and brown - the lid of a Bic Biro - the pointy clip bit - just use this to gently rub up the knap of the felt - do it carefully and it won't come loose.
Felt is a wonder material - highly under-rated, but it cleans up well.
I didn't use any liquid in this process as I have no idea what sort of adhesive the felt is held on by - it's probably an animal glue, so is probably fine, but not wanting to take any chances . . . .
Suffice to say it works, and should on any Leitz lens you own that has a push-on felt-lined cap!

Happy days 😄

BTW - these are scans from straight prints, which are on Tetenal RC paper - they don't make it any more, shame because it was nice stuff to use - they're printed at bog standard Grade 2.
The thing that surprises me for such an old uncoated lens is actually how contrasty they look and yet there's that air of glow that you get when the light is right.
I am super-chuffed.
The oof areas too - quite unlike modern lenses - not sure how they'd look in colour, but I think good ol' monochrome suits it just dandy.

And the Nikon?
Well, there's more to come so I'll keep you guessing.

Jacob Marley's Chain - by Aimee Mann

Well, today a friend told me this sorry tale
As he stood there trembling and turning pale
He said each day's harder to get on the scale
Sort of like Jacob Marley's chain

But it's not like life's such a vale of tears
It's just full of thoughts that act as souvenirs
For those tiny blunders made in yesteryear
That comprise Jacob Marley's chain

Well, I had a little metaphor to state my case
It encompassed the condition of the human race
But to my dismay, it left without a trace
Except for the sound of Jacob Marley's chain

Now there is no story left to tell
So I think I'd rather just go on to hell
Where there's a snowball's chance that the personnel
Might help to carry Jacob Marley's chain



Help to carry Jacob Marley's chain...




No exposure meters were harmed during the making of this FogBlog




Sunday, December 21, 2014

The Nature Of The Complainte

Morning folks and apologies to you if you were expecting Part 4 of the torturous Karavan Khronikles, however I have been beset by a modern problem . . lack of time. C'mon, Christmas is nearly here - what do you do when you have a few spare weekend hours . . yes you go and do normal things with the family, not lock yourself away in the dark and curse . . .
So, to that end, and being of the mind that I wanted to wish you all a Merry Christmas anyway, I thought I would provide a reflective theme for the end of the year.

Cap'n Bruce (Robbins) of the Online Darkroom fame and I have been having on/off emailed discussions recently - he's complained of little time and a wish to slim down his vision to something a bit more simple; I have expressed a desire to purchase yet another camera, or failing that, get something like a 50mm Summicron for the M2 just to see how far I can exploit the 35mm negative. Quite a difference!
To excuse myself a little I will say this - for many years I have wanted a Hasselblad - simply because they are beautiful and the lens quality is superlative, however they are not a cheap camera, and actually when I start to think about it, can I go back to ye olde square again? I've spent years making square photographs with the (currently in need of a service) Rollei T - I have beaten the format to death - can I really dedicate a huge chunk of money to it again?
Besides I find I like a more oblong format these days, however (besides 35mm) I do actually have two options in my arsenal with regard to that shape - the Koni Omega 6x7 and my Wista 5x4. "Great" you're thinking, "lucky bugger to have two nice cameras like that," however (and here is The Nature Of The Complainte) as a photographer, one is never satisfied! 
Weird isn't it? 
There's always a hankering for something else; these being, in no particular order:

Quality Of Negative
Quality Of Lens
Ease Of Use
Sharpness
Out Of Focus Characteristics
Fun Quotient

It's terrible really, because I believe that rather like that itch under the plaster-cast you got when you broke a limb at the age of 14, this photographic hankering is an un-scratchable thing.
Go on. How many photographers do you know who own just one camera and one lens? Is the HCB ethic of one camera/one lens really alive and kicking these days? I sincerely doubt it, and I am open to someone pointing me in the right direction of someone who does do it.
Bruce wonders whether he could just slim himself down to a rangefinder (yeah I know, they'll have to bury him with an OM2, so I can't see him getting rid of them) and a couple of lenses. He's even talking about selling his SL66 . . . and you know what? I can't see it - the man loves cameras!
Me? Well a new camera is always a rather nice prospect, but do I need one?
And here folks things get weird, because you will be hard-wired into my thought processes and it isn't pretty:


- = Bad
- = Confused

OK, so the pocket money is beginning to mount up nicely . . what do you fancy buying?

Well, the M2 is the one camera I could never get rid of, but one lens?

Bloody difficult. You couldn't live with just the 1934 Elmar, or the 50's Canon 28mm and 50mm f1.8. And superb though it is, could you really spend the rest of your life just photographing with the 90mm f4 Elmar? I think you know what the answer is.

OK . . M2 and 90mm Elmar . . that's a given.

Well, yeah, it's a start, so a 50mm Summicron? Would that satisfy things? Oh and on the wide side, a 35mm Summaron or Summicron?

You see what I mean?
It is impossible to be satisfied.
And then I go from there to:

Well, for all I know I moaned about it (a lot) but the Pentax 67 had a fantastic selection of lenses - maybe I could get one of those again, but wait a minute I've already got a 6x7 in the Koni and that is great.

But you haven't got a wide for it!

Yeah, a wide . . maybe a wider format would do the trick, maybe 6x9? 

Well yeah, so how about a 6x9 back for the Wista? 

Too cumbersome really, and I want something I can walk around with easily.

OK, so a Fuji 6x9? yeah nice, but a fixed lens - could you live with a fixed lens?
 
Nope - deffo couldn't, well the only option would be a Mamiya Press - you get a few different focal lengths for them.

Yeah, nice, but didn't Bruce say they were a little 'agricultural'?

He did, but those photos of his taken with them are really nice, and then there's John Davies and his UK landscapes, and also Don McCullin.

You've got a point there - stick it on the list. Of coures, the real deal would be AN ALPA!

Shit, yeah, an Alpa! But isn't that more expensive than a house?

Well, nearly, but you've got two good kidneys, and you can just survive on one apparently.

Go for it!

And I leave for work, bouyed by the thought that in a couple of years with one less kidney, I'll be traveling around taking amazing photos with God's gift to the photographer, The Alpa
However, this conversation is replaced a day later by:

You know, 6x12 is a bloody interesting format isn't it?

Too right. Are there any decent cameras out there? And how about a 6x12 back for the Wista?

Too cumbersome.

OK, so it's Linhof, Horseman or bust?

It certainly is, but then don't you think 6x17cm provides a greater sense of space?

Hmmmm - yeah, too right.

OK, so how do you feel about a Linhof or a Fuji . . or how about a Hasselblad X-Pan? You wouldn't need a bigger enlarger for that!

Anyone got a scalpel?

To be replaced a day later by:

You know I really like the look of those Eisenstadt New York photos he made with the old Rollei Standard.

Beautiful aren't they - and they're pretty cheap too! But then again a Zeiss Ikoflex is another option.

Yeah, I'd forgotten about Zeiss . . well how about a Super-ikonta? You can get them in 6x9 too!

You're brilliant, but of course you realise that the Voigtlander is more highly regarded, especially with a Skopar . .

Oh FECK, I forgot about that . . .


And that is The Nature Of The Complainte folks - it is a never-ending circular conversation that questions the use of every format and the quality of every considered camera. I even found myself discussing 645 and Sony NEXs with Bruce and that shows you the madness.
Basically every photographer wants to spend money on new gear and make that one photograph that, when the relations come to clear their house out, might cause someone to pause and say "that's a NICE photograph" before everything gets chucked in the skip.
We, as photographers, are afraid of death (to paraphrase Moonstruck) and we want to be remembered, and only by spending as much money as we can on gear, can we go some way to assuage our subconscious that indeed, our travail on earth as captors of light hasn't been a total waste of time!


Leica M2, 50mm f1.8 Canon



Leica IIIf, 1934 Leitz 50mm f3.5 Elmar



Olympus Trip, 40mm f2.8 Zuiko


Rolleiflex T, 16-On Kit, 75mm f3.5 Tessar


Rolleiflex T, 16-On Kit, 75mm f3.5 Tessar


Rolleiflex T, 16-On Kit, 75mm f3.5 Tessar

Rolleiflex T, 75mm f3.5 Tessar


Rolleiflex T, 75mm f3.5 Tessar


Rolleiflex T, 75mm f3.5 Tessar

Pentax 6x7, 75mm f3.5 Super Takumar


Pentax 6x7, 75mm f3.5 Super Takumar


Koni Omega 6x7, Super Omegon 90mm, f3.5


Agfa 6x9 Box Camera


 
Wista 5x4, Kodak Ektar, 203mm f7.7

Wista 5x4, 150mm f5.6 Schneider Symmar-S

Sinar 5x4, 90mm f6.8 Schneider Angulon

Sinar 5x4, 90mm f6.8 Schneider Angulon


All of the above are physical prints, printed by me - and blow me, can you see much difference?
Nope, me neither - truth be told, for the maximum print size I can make in my tiny darkroom (11x14 at a push) any format will suffice, and yet The Nature Of The Complainte dictates that I should still hunger after a camera/lens combo that is satisfying, sharp, easy to use, high quality, capable of capturing light with a unique signature and all round FUN TO USE, when in actuality, I have any number of them already!
Elsewhere it is known as GAS (Gear Acquisition Syndrome) - I'll just call it MAD (Mental Acquisition Dither) because nothing seems to satisfy that need for more gear. 
I genuinely thought that when I bought the Leica M2, that would be it, but it wasn't . . same with the recent late-manufacture 90mm Super Angulon, a lens so perfect that it makes you want to cry . . . I've barely (sic) scratched its surface and I am already thinking about something else. 
Those rare beast photographers with refined vision and a sense that more cameras means more responsibility, are lucky, for they have no chains to bind them to the earth and can fly into visual legend, but in reality, do they really exist? Do you??
For the rest of us toiling away at the coal-face, the need for more stuff pretty much dominates the hobby. And why not. There's something about a camera, especially a mechanical camera that says This Is It. Mankind's ingenuity and engineering finesse distilled into one perfect machine. A thing to be admired, acquired and used; to be loved and loved again. 
In short it's just about perfection, and a desire to render the world in a perfect way. 
Aside from just snapping away at any old shite as the majority of photography seems to be, surely as a concerned and dedicated photographer half our ouevre is to render an imperfect world in a way which hopefully serves as a reminder to the rest of the herd that (under the right circumstances and with the right machine [and ultimately under our control]) the world can be a perfect and visually beautiful place. 
Like some lost ancient tract, impossibly discovered, a good and symbiotic camera can be that key to the kingdom we all desire.

And so folks for the New Year I fear the search, like some Biblical quest, will go on. But in the meantime, may I take this opportunity to wish you the best for the season.
God bless and thanks for reading. 

Sunday, August 04, 2013

The Transformed Man (And Other Tales)

Well - what can I say folks except, I am sorry to have neglected you, and hello again. It has been rather a long time hasn't it, but I'll put it down to a necessary need to pull back from writing this every week - it was too much and I felt my creative juices being squeezed dry - for me, when something creative stops being enjoyable then I have to immerse myself less. 
But anyway, that's enough of lousy excuses - I am not going to be publishing this on such a regular basis, simply from the fact that there is only so much one can write about and continue to stay interesting!
So, onwards.
I met someone on the bus a couple of weeks back - I hadn't seen him in a long time (nearly 8 years) - time had changed him - he looked old, and yet when I tickled his memory it was surprising what he was capable of recalling. His name is Malcolm Thompson and he was (and is to an extent) someone who has made their entire career from photography, which is no mean feat. In recent years he has been a printer and processor, as well as doing course work on a monochrome photography course at Dundee's famous DCA.
I like Malcolm - he can appear curmudgeonly at times and yet, underneath that surface is a passionate and experienced photographer capable of not just superb images, but some of the best printing I have ever seen. I asked him how he was doing and he said he'd retired, though he still held an informal portfolio session at the DCA (has asked me to go along . . not sure whether I will or not . . I am not a great fan of these things) and also still had his wee darkroom going at Meadow Mill, and then he said, 'Well, I can't do anything else.' And it struck me then, that his commitment to the photographic image was so total that any other way of earning a living had never occurred to him . . 
Oh Lucky Man! I thought, for that has never been the case with me, but that being said I am still rather proud of my 'amateur' status, because, strangely the only thing amateur about it is that I don't have to earn a crust from my efforts. I can just about do anything I like and the only people apt to comment are myself and my wife, and, should there be any of you left after such a break dear readers, yourselves.
Anyway, back to the grist.
Before I took my break, I had a roll of Delta 400 in the M2. 
I'd broken it out for a trip to St.Andrews extended that to a Sunday wander and then decided I would finish it off on my walk back home from Ninewells Hospital where I had had to have a cytoscope examination (surely the most strange feeling that one can ever inflict on one's urethra and bladder . . short of trying to stuff peanuts up there . . but I digress). 
I had a marvellous time on the walk back, just snap-happy snapping away at anything that took my fancy.
The walk took me through Balgay Cemetery, a place I have walked in ever since I arrived in Dundee some 33 years ago. It never ceases to surprise and that day was no different, with a drear mist popping in and out off the Tay. There was something strangely beautiful and silvery about it, so I went and took some photographs in a place I have walked past millions of times, but never entered . . a waiting room for funeral services.
It sounds quite formal doesn't it, but is in fact just like a wee rural bus station waiting room!
The light and the windows though rendered it magical and rather surreal, so I set the LeicaM2/5cm Elmar at 1/125th of a second and approx f16 and started shooting. 
I even did the unheard of and went and asked a Parky if I could take his portrait . . .anyway.
Now actually from this film something happened which I haven't really found before . . 
I entered the realm of sequences. 
However these were simple, two photograph sequences, rather than elaborate narratives. 
When I developed the film I was rather struck actually by how they seemed to group themselves together on the film, and so have paired a few of them below in what I think are nice little duets (and one triptych) of light and form.
Sequencing is an art, that I have long felt I should pursue (and as you can see below, I definitely haven't got there yet, but it is a start).
A sequence, no matter how loose, separates your precious creations from being 'just' a collection of photographs and takes them into the world of visual narrative. Now if all this sounds a bit artsy-fartsy, worryeth not, I am not going to go all pseud on you (I hate 'art-speak' more than most, having been on the end of it at college) but a sequence isn't artifice, it is a genuine and valid photographic principle, and one which is all the more valid in these days of a billion-images-everywhere-you-turn-anyone-can-take-a-photo-innit.
I mean, face it folks, we (that's you and me I am talking about} have become about as relevant to the modern world as Catweazle.







Spot the difference - both now irrelevant to the modern world (though Catweazle always was . . I suppose that was the point of the program!)





Catweazle discovered the telephone . . or 'Telling-Bone' in a particularly memorable episode, and Mr. W.Eugene Smith created sequences of photographs (and remember a simple sequence can easily become an essay) that are lyrically beautiful and masterworks of craft and an advanced visual perception.
But now everyone carries a camera wiv 'em, innit.
We as photographers are seemingly redundant, because we have nothing to say to anyone except other photographers. Who gives a monkey's nuts about the fine monochrome photograph and print these days? Other photographers. That's about it, or so it seems.
This hit home to me over the holidays when, whilst photographing around the DOJCA building, a back door popped open and out came this young cove and we started chatting. He was awfully nice actually - I believe his name is Phillip Vaughan. Anyway, we talked for a while about cameras and art and it turned out (as far as I could tell) that DOJCA no longer has anything to do with 'traditional' photography. It is all digital and they don't use film, this being said, he did say there was a hunger amongst students to explore film . . but (and this is my own take on it) it is considered as arcane to the practice of art, as a plate camera would be to your average smartphone toting man or woman in the street.
Anyway, rant over, the whole point of what I have just said is that the art of sequence is vanishing, and I for one feel it is a great and solid shame.
Sorry - had to get that out - onwards with the shiite now.
I'll apologise in advance and say I am sorry to say that the images below aren't from prints - I have run out of chemicals and need to stock up and have spent all my recent pocket money on camping gear (more of that later) - so they are scans from my schiite scanner (verticals on the negs are correct, verticals from the scans are not . . grrrrrrrrrrrrr . . some tweaking in Irfan was necessary)
Anyway, comments welcome. Oh and the Delta was developed in good old (very) 1:25 Rodinal. Quite a remarkable lack of grain for such a supposed 'fierce' developer (the scans look rough because the scanner is simply incapable of dealing with anything remotely contrasty, without making everything look lumpy and flat).
The thing about the duets is that they weren't conscious at all, my eye just seemed to pick out similar things at relatively concurrent pieces of time and ordered me to make the photograph. 
This is actually where the method I expounded in 'The Ralph Gibson Experiment' came into play. I won't repeat it again, but knowing that you can pretty much count on the film's latitude to deal with everything except the grossest errors of exposure, you can set up at (in Scotland and on 400 EI film and with decent daylight) 1/125th of a second and f16 and just concentrate on composition and things come out pretty much OK. It is a weird thing actually, because by the rules, it shouldn't work, and yet it does.
I think Mr.Gibson should actually be lauded for his discovery, because not only does it work, but it works well.
Anyway, see what you think.
Here's the contact first of all - heart on my sleeve and all that . . warts n'all.


1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal
Contact Sheet



And here's the duets - I rather like them, even though they are a diverse bunch.



1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal

1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal
Delta Frames 2 & 4



And on



1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal



1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal
Delta Frames 12 & 13

And on


1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal



1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal
Delta Frames 18 & 19


And then a little tryptich

1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal



1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal



1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal
Delta Frames 20, 27 & 21



I am sure that every single man-jack of you has at least two or three photographs that could go together to make something more than just a single photograph. The above aren't great, but I enjoyed making them, and the fact they are on the same film was a surprise to me - they could be better arranged, but if I start farting around I'll never get this FB posted. So how about doing yourself a favour on a rainy afternoon when there's nothing better to do. Lay out a selection of your bestest prints on as much floorspace as you can allow,and grab a coffee or tea and have a mull over them and see if you can't come up with some duets or trypti or something longer and more narrative. It will set you apart from the also-rans, and might just get your brain thinking about the images you make in a less random, clearer fashion. Not nagging . . but give it a go.
Then see if you can't pursuade a loved-one to comment.
It isn't a skill learned overnight (or in my case at all) but it is something worth doing. Let me know how you get on.
And at the end of it all, wondering how I was going to use up my final few frames I had another go at a 'Leica snaphot' except this time the camera was in it's open ever-ready case around my neck, and all I did was set focus and surreptitiously release the shutter. I am not very good at this though, because shake came in again and yet it led to the photograph I like the most from this session and the one I named this Blog after - The Transformed Man. And no, this isn't a nod to William Shatner's album, this is a title from a 1950's Sci-Fi book, but unfortunately I can't remember the author's name (Alfred Bester?). 
Anyway, the pic suits the title.



1934 Leitz Elmar, Leica M2, Ilford Delta 400, 1:25 Rodinal
The Transformed Man



And that's it folks - FB over and out - hopefully it won't be as long next time.
Take care, God Bless and thanks for reading again