Some Photographs Of The Same Thing

Well,  I'll not say it's boring, but it is quite a change for me.

I've rarely photographed (some might say slightly obsessively) the same thing twice - it's just not really in my remit.
Certainly I'll visit the same places and re-photograph them, but the same thing? 

Well no. 

But this thing was different.

Hasselblad SWC/M

It's quite unusual to find a large piece of deep water marine equipment just sitting on the ground, waiting for something to happen, but such was the case with this. 

You maybe saw it recently in the post about Frankenstein.

I've no idea quite what it is, but one thing is for certain - it's from some Brutalist Planet, where things are made tough and look the same too.

To my eye there's something that I find fascinating about it and I can't quite place it.

Is it because there's an air of Chris Foss about it?

If you're not aware of Foss, he's a SF book illustrator, whose amazing flights of the imagination made a deep impression upon the (slightly) young Sheephouse. 

Look him up  - there's plenty of examples around - and then tell me if you think our subject wouldn't be out of place in one of his paintings!

So yeah, maybe that's why it caught my eye - it's just a shame it has been fenced off.

It wouldn't look out of place in the foyer of the V&A as an example of Design and Functionality, but instead here it is, sitting by the gates of a scrapyard waiting for the end. 
I'll be sad to see it go.
When I was thinking about (and photographing) the Frankenstein piece, this, to me, became an allegory for The Modern Prometheus.
Something created by man, not 'beautiful' in the conventional sense, but BEAUTIFUL in its own right, yet now cast away.

Stupid I know, but I like to think that maybe Mary's spirit was governing things.

Anyway, enough of my musings, without further ado, here are:

 Some Photographs Of The Same Thing

Rolleiflex T

First up is the one I posted before. 
This was taken with my Rolleiflex T - a camera that seems to (strangely) get a fair amount of stick, and yet, what's not to like: it has a single-coated Zeiss Tessar, optimised for f11 and the typical Rollei practicality, where everything has been thought through incrediblty well. 
That it sat in their line-up inbetween the Planar/Xenotar configured top of the range boys and the lowly Rolleicord, seems to be largely ignored these days. 
A lot of vendors sell Rolleicord Vbs for a heavier premium (because they're 'newer') and yet, optically many would argue the Tessar has an edge over a Xenar.

Don'tcha just love old optical terms!

As with most (well, in my experience) TLRs (apart from the likes of the 3.5/2.8 E's and F's) the lens works best in the happy smiley people range - i.e. from about 3 feet to about 15 feet. 
It's not really a landscape camera though it DOES produce excellent results used as such. 
Actually, for all that, the majority of landscapes I've taken have used a TLR and I've never really complained about the results.

However, when I invested in my Hasselblad system I truly realised what I had been missing!

Still, this being said, I've no complaints with the T. 

It has been a good friend for years.
What the shot clearly shows is that it is entirely easy to operate a Rollei handheld in low-light situations - this was just about sunrise on a Winter's dawn and 1/30th at f5.6

Hasselblad 500 C/M, 60mm Distagon

I was so enamoured with it, that I went back the following week, this time with the 500C/M and the 60mm Distagon affixed.

I love the 60mm Distagon - it's an incredibly sharp lens with virtually no distortion.

Here's what Zeiss say in their literature:

Distagon T* 60 mm f/3.5 CB

The Carl Zeiss Distagon T* 60 mm f/3.5 CB is versatile wide angle lensto be used with all current Hasselblad cameras. The stunning optical performance recommends this lens for a wealth of demanding tasks in commercial, advertising, and industrial photography, to name just a few.

Detailed interiors with people,groups in particular are a hallmark of this lens. In candid wedding photography the Distagon T* 60 mm f/3.5CB is an indispensable tool that can be used wide open whenever ambient lighting conditions ask for it.

I found it rather telling that in a visit to the Helmut Newton Foundation in Berlin, alongside his trusty Rollei, there was also a 500C/M with a 60mm C Distagon attached.

Nuff said. 

It doesn't seem to be a too popular lens in the Hasselblad V line-up - no idea why.
The film was HP5 at EI 200 and exposure was definitely happening - it was bleedin' BALTIC . . . nah, 1/30th at f4.

Hasselblad 500 C/M, 150mm Sonnar

Still thinking about it, I went back AGAIN the following week.
What with everything being fenced off and all that, I felt I needed something longer. 
And what did I have? 
Yep, the 150mm Sonnar.
I've detailed it many times before - it's a bargain of a lens for a Hasselblad - sharp as a tack, creamy out of focus and relatively useable at f4.5 maximum aperture. 
The beauty with all the Zeiss Hasselblad lenses is that you really can shoot them wide open and get very useable and distinctive results, so even though I was shooting unfiltered Ilford SFX at EI 100 and was operating pre-sunrise (the exposure was 1/125th at f4!) I was still confident in my ability to photograph things relatively wide open
. . . and that was just my trousers . . .  nah, just joking.

Hasselblad SWC/M

I had a break of a week or so, but I found it was still on my mind; so, not wishing to leave things out, I headed back yet again. 
This time I was toting the SWC/M with that luscious 38mm Biogon. 
It is a lens that can really do wonderful things to light, and I'm not sure what it is - it just seems to be a great translator. 
Suffice to say I love it - it may not be the ideal lens for everyone, but I find if you get yourself into the Super Wide Zone mentally, it is all you could wish and a whole lot more.
The film I took with it, was FP4+ as it is all I had left - not exactly ideal for the light levels I was encountering.. 
I tried to approach each frame like I was making a sequence of photographs - I'll let you see the rest next time, but in the meantime, the pictures of the Marine Monster will have to suffice.

Hasselblad SWC/M

And that was the last of them - should I go back with every other camera and lens I own or would that be over-egging the pudding? 
The latter methinks.

So, job done. 
Hope you like the photographs . . . and if you don't, well I can dig it (as they used to say). 
They're all 800dpi scans off of prints as usual - Ilford MGRC for speed and convenience. 
However I will say that as scans of prints I think they're fairly ghastly. 
Certainly in the SWC/M shots the slight vignetting from the lens (the weather was so terrible and I was getting 1/15th of a second at f5.6!!) has been heavily over-emphasised. 
The prints whilst not brilliant - more works in progress - look considerably better than the scans - but then again isn't that always the case. 

Anyway, 'nuff excuses - over and oot the noo!

TTFN and don't forget to post those letters. 

101 Uses Of A (Nearly) Dead Sheep

Morning folks - I'm not really meaning to paraphrase Simon Bond's classic book, but it was the first title that jumped into my head.
Thankfully, there's not really 101 uses of a (Nearly) Dead Sheep in this article, but it somehow fit with a sad story about a lone sheep, who is unfortunately now either a carcass on a foreshore, or has been carted off to the great vet incinerator in the sky.
You'll need hankies for later on - trust me.

Close-Planted Standing, Fife

Oh and it was nothing like this:

Or this:

I can't condone such behaviour - I am a cat lover - all the same though, they're pretty damn funny no matter which way you look at them.

Anyway, there I was, with yet another hillwalk planned and cancelled at the last minute - this Winter has been something else for that - allied with a dodgy knee,  another Plan B was wheeled into action.
It was what is becoming my default Plan B - Wormit to Balmerino, except this time I was planning on coming back via the back way from Balmerino Abbey.

So, prepped and ready to go - son and gf dropped off at work - weather not too bad, I parked up at Wormit 'beach' - in reality it's a semi-muddy shoreline with a concrete breakwater - the view is spectacular though, taking in the Carse of Gowrie, right through to Dundee itself and beyond to Barry Point by Monifieth/Carnoustie - quite something and when the light is good and quiet it has that strange air of misty change that you often find in a tidal hinterland.

If you've never been, the path to Balmerino is dead obvious (and signposted) and I set off at a pace with the added hope of maybe finding my watch (which broke free from its strap the last time I came this way).

I was toting the 150mm Sonnar and 500 C/M alone in the Think Tank bag that was detailed in this post.

It makes for a very tidy little package for such an awesome picture making machine.
I combined it with my CF Gitzo tripod - possibly the greatest thing since sliced peas - and off I went!

So here we go . .

Film # 66/54

#66/54, HP5 EI 200, 24/2/19

1./ 1/30th, f11, ZIII MLU Foreshore

2./ 1/30th, f11, ZIII MLU Foreshore

3./ 1/60th, f5.6, ZIII MLU Tree

4./ 1/30th, f11, ZIII MLU Horizon

5./ 1/8th, f8, Z? Sheep

6./ 1/8th, f22, ZII, Trees

7./ 1/30th, f5.6, ZIV, Catkins

8./ 1/30th, f5.6, ZIV, Catkins

9./ 1/60th, f8, ZIV, Shadow, Hut

10./ 1/250th, f4, ZIII, True, Pier

11./ 1/30th, f16, ZIII, True, Pier

12./ 1/4th, f22, ZIV, Shadow, True, Tay

PHD 5+5+500 22℃.

Agit 30 sec, then 4 per min, to 17 mins then stand to 21. No waterbath.

Nice results though I need to watch my readings.

All 150mm Sonnar,  and apart from 5, tripod.

And those are my notes.
Boring?
OF COURSE, but then again it isn't often one gets to look into anyone's work process is it, and well, if anyone can glean anything - like a tweak on the way they work that helps things along - then I am a HB (Happy Bunny)!
"True" by the way means I took the reading from the meter verbatim - no farting around.

Right - got your bicycle clips on?
Good . . here we go!

Wormit Foreshore, Facing West

It's a pretty scene isn't it - this is taken from a position on the bit of shoreline just before the Balmerino path takes you up into some fields - it's next to the prone wooden seal statue/seat if you need directions. The building you see is a fisherman's hut of antiquity - there's been no roof on it since me and the missus 'discovered' it back in the early 1990's.

There's another one (or rather the remnants of one) further along and probably there's more all the way to Newburgh, but I wouldn't recommend trying unless you're in a boat, as access to the shore is a tad difficult and with a tide moving around every 6 hours or so, unless you can be sure of getting back safely, I'd be very careful.

A few words of warning -  it is slippy and muddy as blazes - there's a good chance if you hit the wrong bit of shoreline, both you and your wellies will become firmly stuck!

The one possibly interesting thing I'll add is, y'see the shoreline to the right of the hut, and you see that bit of hill at the left side of the frame, well use your mind to imagine that hill climbing up to the top of the frame, and you've got a really steep incline that required yomping up by me . . . but more of that in a minute.

Right - I've had a break - here we go . . . y'see the sheep in Frame 5? 
Yeah? Good - we'll talk about her.
Well, there I was right on an inaccessible bit of shore  - I'd scrambled down off the main path as I'd seen the remnants of another 'hut'. I photographed the curiously CEMENTED INTO PLACE tree stump in Frame 3 and the bleak mudscape of Frame 4, and, I chanced across a small waterfall which I thought was beautiful. I started to clamber over a breadth of bramble and awkward vegetation and spotted the sheep.

I know sheep - stop the sniggering at the back or you'll get lines - they bolt as soon as you get near them. But despite my noise and thrashing and swearing where the brambles were tearing at everything, this one was going nowhere, nor moving. I baaa'd at it a few times and eventually it came to life - I'm good at impersonating sheep - and looked at me. I took it's (bad) picture - 50p of film I'll never see again - and moved closer towards it. It still lay. I didn't think this was looking good. Eventually it lurched to life and moved away a small distance dragging its front left shank.

Two things struck me:

The animal was in a severe state of distress - close to death actually. 

and

That's not just a farmer's profit, but an unfortunate creature needing putting down. 

I'm not a romantic with regard to farming - it is a hard business. 
I'm also not immune to the suffering of creatures. 
Given that I had no phone, my only recourse was to go somewhere and tell someone to call a vet.

I retreated back to the foreshore so as not to panic the animal any more, packed all my gear, and scrambled uphill at speed.

Fifty-odd meters doesn't sound much, but it is three quarters (approx) of 200 feet - take that over a quarter of a mile of rough scramble with no paths, at speed, and you've got a fairly intensive workout for the ol' ticker.

There was a rough grouping of farm buildings at the top of my climb, but they all seemed to have been converted into holiday lets. I found another house, rang bells, knocked on doors and eventually found a dog who led me round to an open door and a young, well-to-do woman who was hoovering her living room. She screamed and then switched off her hoover. I explained, and she said she'd let her neighbour (the farmer, who owned the whole chunk of land - presumably including her house) know.
She seemed as concerned as I was, which is a good thing, however, that was that. I'd done what I could do. If I go back and spot a sorry bag of bones and wool at the foot of the waterfall, I'll know nothing was done. 

RIP Ms. Sheep.

Anyway, utterly exhausted, I beat my way along a field edge and made it back to the path and continued on my way.

Close-Planted Standing, Fife

I'd always had it in my head to take this photograph, but it was rather hard with every lens other than a moderate telephoto - I wanted the feeling of being enveloped in trees.
Not sure whether I've achieved it or not - to be frank I was exhausted at this point - my heart wasn't in it - I kept thinking about the sheep.
The eagle-eyed might well have spotted that the original negative on the contact is severely underexposed - bad reading with a spot meter again - but fortunately I managed to rescue it for perpetuity with some printy stuff. To my mind there's a desparate bleakness about this photo - maybe the way I was feeling had wound it's way into the frame . . .
I know . . I can hear you muttering BOLLOCKS! from here . . .

Anyway, it's a Grade 4 on Ilford MGRC Pearl - actually all of these 'ere prints are that paper, but the rest are Grade 3.
The flecks on the trees are really sharp - Pyrocat has a wonderful effect on ordinary HP5 - it gives almost an etched surface - it is quite subtle, but apparent.

Catkin Lanterns, Fife

Further on, against the gloom of enclosed trees and grey sky, I spotted these catkins. They were like little fluffy beacons in the dark. I set up my tripod and camera and did some moving around and gazing at the focus screen along with checking DOF. To my eyes they looked best when shot (nearly) wide open - it looked gorgeous on the focus screen.
This being said, bad egg Bruce Robbins did say he thought the 'bokeh' looked a tad wirey.
I hadn't noticed till he mentioned it, but yeah, he's right.
I think it is a combo of f5.6 and moving twiggy stuff.
I'll bear it in mind for the future.
I still quite like it for some reason.

Fisherman's Hut, Wormit

Well, this is that 'ere 'ut, we saw from the other direction in Frame 1. Weirdly the iron doors (two of them) are both padlocked, despite the building having no roof.
As I said before me and missus 'discovered' this place back in the 1990's, on a day of extreme heat, vast clouds of black flies and the warmly pungent whiff of sewerage - it was dead romantic.
Oh yes, didn't I mention that?
The Tay has been an outfall for a lot of the shitty stuff over the years - it has improved greatly in the past decade or so but all the same, you can still catch a mighty whiff of it at times (old layers of it being exposed?) - all the more reason for wellies!

It's a shame you can't sit with a 10x8 print in your hands because it brings to life everything I like about the Sonnar - great detail, intense sharpness, not ott contrast, and living breathing (soft but detailed) out of focus areas.
I like this picture.

From there if was a distraction of taking a couple more boring pics of old pier standings and then, with one shot left to me, and the tide on the turn I thought Feck it, might as well, and I picked my way along the shore to the footings of the Tay Rail Bridges - yes, there have been two - I'll not detail them myself, but the tragedy of the original disaster it still writ large on both sides of the river.
You can read about it here.
It helped toward current thinking on safe bridge design.

If you are reading this and getting all fidgety about accessing them, I take no responsibility for your actions.
IT IS DANGEROUS GETTING TO THE FOOTINGS - there used to be a maintanance building ladder system, but it has been closed for years, so you have no recourse save the shoreline.
You can be easily lulled into thinking it is easy, but the rocks are weed and algae covered and are extremely slippery. Allied to this, the tide will come in fast, forcing you back onto said rocks and turning what might have been a slightly difficult walk into a messy, seweragy, slippy awfulness . . and that's you depositing said muck all over the interior of your nice new Audi - the Ford Cortina of the noughties 😉

In the words of our Roman friends:

Caute Procedere

So where does that leave us?
Well, after what seemed like 2 hours of rock picking and avoiding slippage, I set up my camera and took this:

Tay Rail Bridges

I deliberately left this till last as it shows the perils of the photograph making process. 

"What's wrong wiv it?"  I hear you shout.

Well, rather in the same way that some sheep farmer called out (on completion of the Moffat Ram sculpture):

"Where's his lugs?"

Then I too shouted similarly:

'It's all 'orrible an' squint innit!"

Oh yes, despite careful use of the Hasselblad spirit level (a very useful tool) and the camera being perfectly level, the weirdly sloping shoulders holding up the bridge have added an air of squinty-poo to the whole frame. 

I've left the rebates on this so you can see it is the complete thing. 

I find this very frustrating, because it gives the whole frame a distinct lean to the left.

Och well, them's the breaks - it's not a great photo anyway - I certainly won't be printing another, but I will be risking life and limb to get to the same spot again. 

That's perilous though - trust me.

I was physically and emotionally exhausted after this - the pain of the sheep kept playing on my mind - I daren't think that she might well have been with lamb too - it is the right time of year. 

Poor thing.

I packed up, got all slippy and slumped back to the car.

And that as they say is that.
There might be a bit of break before the next FB simply because I haven't taken any pictures or done any printing, but you can live without that can't you? 

Can't you?

Till the next time, try not to get crap on your trousers and remember the sheep, and The Bolde Adventures Of The Mudlark Of Olde Dundee Towne.

I'm In Love With My ̶C̶a̶r̶ Sonnar

OK and Good Morning/Evening.

Well this tale is like a strange love story.

It's a bit like the best Romcom ever made - When Harry Met Sally.

First the characters meet but there's indifference. Then time takes its toll, life moves on, they meet every now and again and they start to get used to each other; then there's the denouement when love is proclaimed and they sail off into a happy future together. 

Sorry to ruin it if you've never seen it, but you really should.
Oh and it has the best Mexican Wave in the history of film - I never tire of it.

Anyway, nearly 2 years past this April, I bought a reasonably priced CF 150mm Sonnar for the 500C/M. I liked it, but barely used it. It was part of my arsenal, but was bypassed in favour of the 60mm Distagon and the SWC/M.

If you read FB regularly, you'll know I had terrible trouble with underexposure recently - you can read the whole sorry story here - however, as detailed below, I am pretty sure I've discovered what I did wrong.
Huzzah!

But to rewind a little, I desparately wanted to see whether I really did need to buy another light meter (I was convinced it was duff, despite testing it against 2 other meters) so I packed the 500C/M, attached the Sonnar and went out into the freezing cold.
I dunno, the things I do for this 'ere blog . . . 

Why the Sonnar?
Well Bruce from The Online Darkroom and I had been talking about lenses and he'd said he'd love to see some of my reflection photos made with the 150mm. I thought about it for a while, because I didn't think it would work; I didn't think you could get in close enough to get that wideness you need with reflection photos. Anyway, my fears were unfounded and even though there's only a couple of those photos of slightly that ilk on here, a longer lens really does work.
Not only that, but I've discovered that at pretty much any aperture, the humble 150mm Sonnar (the cheapest lens you can buy for a Hasselblad, full stop) is sharp and beautiful.
It's a stone cold optical bargain actually.

As an optical design it is ancient - nearly as old as semi-modern photography itself - and wonderfully simple; however, with Zeiss' T* coating (and maybe a lens hood++) it is as good as it gets actually.
Well it is in my opinion.

++ If you own a Hasselblad, don't be tempted by the likes of Photodiox lens hoods or those awfully cheap ones on Ebay - they're mostly very poor - I know because I have spent the money for you and tested them myself.
The real Hasselblad ones are made from high grade plastic and are built to last.

Urban Artist, Dundee

You kind of need a hood, especially in circumstances like the above, but onwards, that's a sample print . . . strap your rubber trousers on, 'cos here's THE CONTACT!

Film #66/53

                            

Film #66/53

Anyway, as before and the new regime, here's my film notes - you know the score by now, read 'em or don't bother!

#66/53, HP5 EI 200, 10/2/19

1./ 1/15th, f8, Z? Guess Gossen/Lux comparison

2./ 1/125th, f11, ZIII, Gossen

3./ 1/125th, f11, ZIII, Gossen

4./ 1/125th, f11, ZIII, Gossen

5./ 1/125th, f11, Z?, Gossen/Shatter

6./ 1/125th, f11, Z?, Gossen/Shatter

7./ 1/250th, f11, ZIII, Refl.

8./ 1/60th, f8, C-Gul, Guess

9./ 1/60th, f16, ZIII, Wall

10./ 1/60th, f11, ZIII, Design

11./ 1/60th, f.8, ZIII, Plant

12./ 1/15th, f5.6, ZIII, Guess

All handheld

PHD 5+5+500 22℃.

Agit 30 sec, then 4 per min,to 17 mins then stand to 21. No waterbath.

Very happy with this - I double checked the Gossen with Lux on the piephone - the Gossen is fine. I read the standard reading not the spot on 66/52

It might be hard to discern from the contact above, but it was printed at Grade 0 to give me some idea of the negatives potential. It is a new way of working for me and I like it. Sadly scanning only really reveals part of the story, but if it wasn't scanned you wouldn't see it, so you'll have to carry on squinting.

Ah, but before we get into the meat and potatoes (actually neeps are probably better for the gut and can be wonderful in a casserole) here's what happened last time:

Maybe you'll remember in Rescue Job I detailed the horrors of an underexposed film, well I think I've worked out what I did wrong.
The bit below also explains why I am talking about Gossen and Piephone in the notes above.

An Old Friend

So, here's an old old friend, my Gossen Lunasix 3s, with spot attachment.

When I started again, I couldn't afford fancy-pants Sekonic or Pentax spot-meters, so I ended up with a battered but useable Gossen, from MXV for very little money - possibly about £30 - and it has been a reliable friend ever since. 

It's also one of the most sensitive light meters ever made and tbh I love it. 

I had him recalibrated (for exactly NOTHING) by Gossen about 10 years back, and have made many well metered photographs with him. The spot attachment was an option accessory and clips on the front - it reads 7.5 or 15 degrees, I use 7.5. 

The whole shebang is kept in a £5 Lowepro compact camera case on a strap, and when out and about, that is worn on my left hip, camera bag on my right, bandolero style! 

It's convenient and works for me.

Gossen Lunasix 3s

What I did wrong last time:

- I'm only huuuuman after all, I'm only huuuuman after all . . . blah blah blah -

You see the meter window at the top has the needle nearly on 11? 

Well using the spot attachment, I should have been aligning the 11 on the lower yellow disc with the green mark (just above that disc - it is to the left of the yellow triangle).

Instead I was using the spot attachment and using the 'standard' reading on the silver disc (just above the 'V'.)

Confused?

Me too, and I hope I have dissected it correctly - it really is much easier with a meter in your hand than staring at a screen. Anyway, suffice to say that I was consistently underexposing by a whole stop  - not too much trouble if you were using ZV, however I always place shadow readings on ZIII, so with the last film I was actually placing everything on Z II, hence, shite.

Lesson learned!

Be aware.

Shattered Window, Wobbly Bridge, Dundee

A picture of that shattered window from last time - it is trickier to photograph than it looks - I've probably handled the exposure a bit too heavily here, but it does get the extraordinary texture across. On the whole I like it, but I've taken better photos of it.

Inside Outside, Vision, Dundee

If you're a REALLY longtime FB reader you might recognise this scene from years back. It's in the Vision building in Dundee. The last time I photographed it, it was almost empty; nowadays, well there's a lot of it being used, hence the office chairs and tables. I just liked the fact that it wasn't at all apparent where the outside began and the inside ended.

It's scanned off a print made on Ilford MGRC Pearl and lightly toned in selenium. The print is better than the scan (but then I would say that wouldn't I!) - in fact everything on here is scanned - the prints are better.

Urban Artist, Dundee

Here's an on-the-fly portrait of a young artist.

I've photographed him before - he's a really interesting chap actually, more artist than graffitti artist, he's more inclined to cheer the place up with his crazy pictures of charachatured Seagulls, than to tag his name everywhere. I like that attitude. Anyway, he was doing this crazy Doctor Octopus Seagull on an ex-Dundee Waterfront noticeboard that someone had scrawled "Cock" all over - public service or what?!
I asked him if I could take his pic and he agreed.

It was a tricky one actually, because of the strong backlight coming from behind him, and I am glad I opted for f8 rather than f5.6, because it snagged the catchlights in his eyes.
There's something Breugel-esque about this and I can't place it.
I know, give him a brush and some sack-cloth and there y'go!
PS. the arm movement was from his spray can shaking - gotta keep it moving in cold weather . . .
It is my favourite from the whole film - maybe I am more of a people person than I thought. It was easy to go up to him and start chatting.

Wall, Dundee

This wasn't as well executed as I'd hoped - I just liked the simplicity of the shadows. It was v.hard getting the wall straight from a ground level pov.

Safety Glass, Dundee

Ah, the dread shatter again. Again not as well executed as I'd hoped, but not bad - it kind of looks like a giant Spring roll over-mounted with broken glass. I should try and do a better print of it . . maybe get Bruce in, in his Split trousers to do some adjustin' an' waftin' an' stuff . . 

Whole Safety Glass, Dundee

And the final one - this is a print too, but I'll confess that I've straightened it ever so slightly, as my verticals were off and it is better for it.
This is the back of DOJCA opposite the old plaster sheds  - I just liked the starkness of everything!

A ThinkTank Suburban Disguise 20 Just Ate My Hasselblad

Oh, yeah, I wasn't pulling a Spiderman or nuffink, but just so's nobody can spot me, here's a pic of my ThinkTank Suburban Disguise 20. A 500C/M with Sonnar, hood and back fills it completely, but it is dead convenient and very well made. 

Probably one of the better bags I've owned actually - should I need another bag for anything in the future I might well buy more from their range.

Anyway, that's it.

I've come to love the Sonnar now and look forward to using it further in the future - what a great lens.

Now, remember to tie your shoelaces, lace your bow-tie, clean your teeth, brush your hair, check your wallet and make sure you turned the toaster off.

That's you! 

Off you pop . . see you in a couple of weeks.

Long Range Weather Forecast

Morning Chunderers . . well, as you well know, a New Ear is upon us and I don't know about you, but I fancy a pint.

Sorry, did I say PINT? I meant PRINT!
 
Yes, at last, like coughing up a fur-ball of creative inactivity I finally got back into the darkroom, got out some proper fibre paper and had a damn good printing session.
It lasted a few hours and I filled my Paterson print washer to capacity so could do no more, but I believe I was satisfied.
Now you're probably rubbing your noggins and wondering why I am speaking like this when I have already published a piece on printing in 2018 - well, I had two days worth of printing before the enlarger bulb holder went.
Sequence In Dream Minor was completed on Day Two, but this lot were done on Day One and I'd already started writing this if you know what I mean.
No Time Machine involved, well, at least not yet.

Anyway, onwards - the papers I used were some wonderful and terribly ancient Agfa MCC multigrade and some even more wonderfuller and possibly even more terribly ancienter Ilford Galerie - Grade 2.

The negatives were some I'd made back in September 2017 and had been desperate to print . . however despite my desperation I didn't go mad and print the lot in one go, no, I just (argh!) burned a few sheets of irreplaceable Agfa to see what I could do. 

Tantamount to 'coming out' at a Rugby Players' Stag-Do I know, but you know what, Multigrades don't last forever and I've still got about 25 sheets left, so stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
Initially the results were, erm, shite.
Too dark and way too much contrast, but I'll come to that later.
It just felt sooooo good to get back into the slow rhythm of darkroom work.
It is a tiny space is my darkroom, and I have to kneel to print (could be construed as praying to the Gods of Silver Gelatin), but, like a well-designed kitchen (you've heard of the kitchen triangle haven't you?) it is incredibly easy to find your way around and get on with some action, so kneeling on bare flagstones is fine actually.

But first let us rewind.

I thort you sed there wos no Time Machine involved Sheepy?

Yes I know, but, well, excuse me . . .

Some background - this particular photographic adventure occurred back in September 2017 - oh it was fun, in fact it was cracking fun (with extra crack).
It was so much so, that I decided to utilise the ubiquitous PiePhone (Sausage and Bean Mk. 4 if you are wondering) and make some vijos.

The films were TMX 100 (expired 09/2015) EI 50 and Ilford  FP4+ (fresh) EI 80 and I shot them both over the space of about 2 hours, where (again) I easily slipped into The Zone.
It was an incredible experience where time and everything else moved quietly aside and I found myself immersed in the easy rhythm of looking at the land, the setting of my tripod, meter reading, focus, composition and the wonderful, light thunk of the Hasselblad mirror-lock-up being activated and the inspiring whirr of the shutter capturing something special.
I hope the results bring that across to you.

I remember Ralph Gibson saying that he often willed the light to produce something special and when he was processing the film he did the same with the chemicals. You're probably thinking "BOLLOCKS!" but I dunno, sometimes, certain things need that sort of thinking.

When I was younger and more foolish I remember standing outside camera shops and looking at Bronica SQ's and thinking if only I had one of those I could channel all this feeling I have for landscape into reality . . . but alas it was not to be and I probably spent any money I saved on a guitar (!) . . . that's why the Hasselblad has been such a revelation to me.
Setting it atop a good tripod, confidently choosing your f-stop and time; composing and locking up the mirror 'til you decide to trip the cable release, is my old self come alive.
I can feel that naive 20-odd year old (OK, he looks a little strange, half buried in mud, in his drainpipes and Dunlop Green Flash) standing beside me punching the air and knowing somehow that light and time are translating.

Translating?

Yes!

I, through the medium of photography (my camera, film, chemicals and paper) am translating some deep currents of atmosphere from the Scottish countryside into something that (hopefully!) has meaning to all men.
Does that sound like shite?
Probably, but like I said last time, if some of the guff that passes for (f)Art these days passes for ART, then my shite is as valid as the next mans.
Possibly more so?
Well, without getting too far ahead of myself, I put EVERYTHING I have into making photographs (and writing too) - it's a creative urge that isn't funded by Arts Council grants . . . like most of you, I do this for the love of it and spend my hard-earned ackers on materials and tools.
I go to © The Red Shed and make prints. I wheel them out onto this blog and they are exposed to the world to ignore.
That's fine by me.  
I do it first and foremost, for me, but if anyone else likes them, then I truly appreciate it.
It's the creative process and the translation (that are part and parcel of the craft of photography and printing) that are important.
That's what I love.


Anyway, first up was a negative, that, though OK, looked heavily underexposed.
Yes, caution pays in such choices, but I love the feel of the photograph so thought I would have a crack at it.
So, a quick test strip of Agfa at Grade 4 (100M).
Why 4?
Well, it is really old paper and, like a lot of MC paper, I feel age can impart a certain dullness to things; last time I used it it was all on Grade 3 to give me what I needed and seeing as I haven't properly fibre printed in over a year and a half (!!!! - don't worry, I gave myself a good kicking when I realised that) I thought its age would show even more . . so, the Agfa then, and on Grade 4 (100 M in Kodak units).

Hmmm - like a black cat in a coal cellar, wrong choice, however, would I listen to the voice of reason? NOOOO, of course not, so blindly stumbling on, and first print produced.
Some background though:

Enlarger - DeVere 504
Lens - Vivitar 105mm
Easel - Knackered and Beardy
Developer  - Liquid Kodak Dektol, also known as Kodak Polymax
Stop - Kodak
Fix - Ilford

And here's the print - almost invisible, though the harder grade has produced some nice highlighty bits.
Yes, it is dark Jim, but not dark as we know it . . . I wanted to keep the very sombre mood

Agfa MCC - Grade 4

I shrugged my shoulders, made an executive decision, punched myself in the face, and switched to Grade 3.

Sadly I didn't change the time of the exposure, but that's the sort of stupid mistake you can make when you aren't doing this all the time. It is very easily done, and that is partly why I am including the blunders, you can only learn from mistakes.

Agfa MCC - Grade 3

So I made another executive decision, knee-capping myself in the process and did less time and some wafting of hands to bring the banks to life a bit.

Hand-Wafted Agfa MCC - Grade 3
(with brussel sprout)

But it was still too dark! Not only that, but some lovely staining occurred on the paper (and no, I haven't dropped a leftover Christmas Brussel on the print).
So, with some blue air occurring, I ditched the Agfa, made another executive decision, and switched to Galerie Grade 2.

Super-Ancient Ilford Galerie - Grade 2

Now obviously this is ridiculously lightly printed, but it does reveal everything hidden under cover of darkness in the Agfa ones, so from there I made what I think to be the correct judgement of exposure, balancing detail and sombreness. 

The final print is in the big prints bit at the bottom.

Anyway, I became bored with that negative, so wanted to try something else - this being one of my Sonnar photos. 

I took a stab at guessing exposure too and this is what came out:

Super-Ancient Ilford Galerie - Grade 2

I was a tad too light, but I could live with it. 

There's a little-known darkroom trick I utilised on this: if you are printing away and are pretty much at fruition but the blacks just aren't quite there, try squeezing a small amount of neat developer into the tray and agititating a little faster than you normally would just to disperse it. It can squeeze the maximum blacks out of your paper without overly affecting contrast - it is subtle, but it does seem to work, especially if you are working in a cold darkroom with trays at room temperature (like me). 

I saw Joe McKenzie use this technique, and he would then go on to selenium tone too, thus adding just a tad more richness to the blacks. 

Interesting stuff (well, I think so)!

Anyway, here's my finished prints (sadly not finished pints).

The one thing that is really obvious from them is how unlike each other the 60mm Distagon and 150mm Sonnar are. . 

The Distagon is the all-seeing eye - it is as accurate as can be (apart from some slight distortion of things at the very edges of a frame) and produces an incredible mix of cold hard fact and pleasing tones. 

The Sonnar on the other hand is like a night in a boutique hotel with all the trimmings if you get my drift - it is gloriously romantic in its view of the world, rendering anything not in focus into a wonderful mash of soft beauty. It is easy to see why it is probably the world's most popular portrait design. 

I have another Sonnar-based lens - the Nikkor 105mm, but that is very different to this, so maybe there's some Zeiss magic going on.

And to this I will add the fact that I know I am incredibly lucky to own these two optical works of art - believe me it was a very long struggle to get here.

Anyway, I hope you like the prints (and the free pints too) - in hindsight maybe I should have printed Number Two lighter, but it was incredibly dark (in spite of what the videos above show) and especially (with the overhanging trees) very sombre. 

One and Four could have done with a tad of burning on the sunlit (!) patches and Three, well I could do no more with the sunny bits (but check out the Rowan leaves in silhouette!) but that aside (and you may not get it from the scans) the actual prints reveal great detail and are pleasing when looked at in a 'physical' dimension as it were.

So if you want to come round for a cup of tea and to have a look at them, let me know and I'll see what I can do . . .

Railway Cutting 1

Railway Cutting 2

Railway Cutting 3

Railway Cutting 4

And that's about it really. 

I rather like the last Sonnar one best of all. 

My eye keeps wandering around it and not settling on anything - it looks a mess, but then I see that soft Sonnar out-of-focus bit reflected in the water, all becomes right with the world in a way I can't put my finger on.

Dare I ask it, but is there an air of John Blakemore about it?

I dunno - possibly is all I'll say. But surely that can only be a good thing.

John is a photographic hero of mine and a master printmaker to boot, so I am aspiring to good things.

That can't be bad, can it?

The one thing that stands above even the results though, was my chance to totally immerse myself in the photo-making experience. 

Just to be swallowed whole by the light and the setting for a couple of hours (which might have seemed like 10 minutes or 10 days had I been thinking about it) was an unforgettable experience. 

It almost seems other-wordly in hindsight; my spirit took flight; my brain got out of the way and just let me be. 

The weird (and just remembered) thing is, that I don't think I made conscious choices of where to plonk the tripod, what to point the lens at and so on - I just went where the light and the land dictated. Whether this was all part of some inner-voice saying:

 "Cooo - would you have a look at that missus!" 

Or (and infinitely more appeasing to my normal frame of mind) was it the land itself and the mysterious machinations of trees and water and plants and soil playing out some quiet interplay with each other whilst the translator moved softly amongst them trying to pass on what his spirit heard them saying?

Questions of aesthetics and exposure did, to a large extent, vanish; I worked methodically and quietly making the most of the moment. I became lost in that railway cutting that nobody remembers - a short transition between rolling farmland, lochs and the soon-to-come upland hills.

It was pure pleasure.

I hope you all have the chance to become absorbed like this (maybe you have been already!) because it is like nothing else.

TTFN and remember, when the muse comes knocking, drop everything and go - they might not come around again for a while.