To Blakemore

Morning folks - a curious title again, so let me explain.

I was sorry to hear of the death of John Blakemore recently and it struck me as truly sad that he was never really recognised as one of the greats. 

But he was. 

That is as true as a day can be long.

With regard to the photographic representation of the British landscape people will talk about McCullin or Kenna or Godwin or even Ravilious till the cows come home, but John Blakemore? 

No, not so much. 

To me he was quintessentially the personification of British Landscape Photography - a ground-breaker and also grounding-force and I believe that anyone who calls themself a landscape photographer these days owes him a debt, whether they've heard of him or not.

As a young Sheephouse, he was the first photographer I really wanted to emulate.

This was especially the case when I got my hands on a Mamiya TLR, because I felt, truly (and at last, with Medium Format providing a size of negative I found awe-inspiring and satisfying) I could achieve something with photography more akin to what my eyes (and soul) made of the landscape and also what John told me could be done with film and paper.

Regular readers will know that I enmired myself in a certain place after the death of my father and it became a sanctuary of solace. 

There was nothing 'Chocolate Box', or 'The Grand View' there; it was somewhere far more mysterious and atmospheric; very much concerned with the passage of time and my deep sadness; the cycle of life and also the bounteous bounds of Mother Nature herself. 

John's photography made me feel that I could channel my feelings for that place into something tangible . . . and a whole lot more.

As a Graphic Design student, part of my degree show was set aside to photographs of the mystery of the land - it meant that much to me.

Whilst in latter years I never attempted to copy his style, there was a massive something of a hangover from those early years that engaged my perception and made me the photographer I am today, and I thank him for it. 

Lucky to have had two great photographers involved so deeply in one's life - Joseph McKenzie as tutor and mentor and Blakemore as inspiration.

“To be alone in the landscape was a release, a return to the pleasures and pursuits of my childhood which had been lost to me.” John Blakemore

"The Photography Department at Duncan of Jordanstone College Of Art, was the ruby in the pig's arsehole." Joseph McKenzie

Anyway, I recently returned to a place that I hadn't visited for nigh on 15 years.

I'd always longed to get back, but time, circumstances and finances had worked against me, so it was with great delight, that I said YES when my friend Neil from the Forum offered to take me there.

I was suitably equipped (bar one piece of essential equipment - more of that in a minute) with a Gitzo CF tripod and Kirk BH1, the 500C/M with a prism (not a WLF) and the 40mm Distagon. 

The missing equipment was a damn good walking pole to help me get down some impossibly steep and slippery banking, but maybe next time! 

Film was fresh Kodak Tri-X - I've been stockpiling, so it was nice to be able to use something current as it were.

The day though was ghastly, with a wan wind containing a right chill - add that to the water and sheer wet energy (and spray) forcing its way down the gorge and it made for very cold walking. 

The atmosphere though was absolutely wonderful, as was the company. 

Neil bought his digital Leica (the fat one - sorry - can't remember the number) and his 28mm Elmarit - his favourite combination - I suppose when you know how encumbered I was, there's a great deal of advantage to such a set-up. 

Light and unbulky being the main one. 

Also easy to put away if you're dealing with rough as feck ground and semi-dangerous footing.

I suppose the advantage of my set-up was that the tripod made for a good prop going downhill. 

The prism also made it so much easier to view the scene - for a start everything was the right way around and secondly, when working at low angles I was clearly able to see where the tripod legs were intruding into the scene - this has been a bit of a problem in the past as the Distagon is a f4 lens and combine that with Scottish weather and early mornings . . . well.

Anyway, this is all rather moving away from Blakemore and me - I think you can see his influence quite clearly in the following pictures - it wasn't a conscious decision, just stuff that caught my eye. 

"To make a final print is to establish the world of the image, linked to but different from the segment of reality depicted." John Blakemore

They're all printed on Fomabrom Variant fibre with the matt (112) surface - it is DEAD flat and I think somehow lends itself to the images. It also dries very well for a FB. 

I've not tried it in glossy, but in matt (and toned in selenium) it can look remarkably similar to the legendary Forte Polywarmtone, a paper I loved very much.

If you're a printer I have to say, buy some, you get tremendous satisfaction using it, just be aware of the extreme flatness of the image - the paper has not even a whiff of sheen.

Yes I could probably have produced the same thing on Hahnemuhle art paper for a tenth of the cost, but I didn't. 

They were processed in Bellini developer and double-fixed in some Bellini fix with a wee tweak in Selenium just to add some more ooomph to the lower D-Max of matt paper . . oh and on that front, you wouldn't think it, but they were all printed at Grade 4.

I have also had to tickle the black point and contrast in scanning, because the paper is incredibly hard to scan well - the way they look on screen is fairly close (but not quite) to how they look as physical prints.

What you are seeing in the sequence is how I exposed the roll of film, bar the first frame which I didn't have time to print! Not bad going though, considering. 

Oh and if you know where this is, please keep it under your hat - next thing we know it'll be groaning with Insta photo-shoots.

And that, as they say, is that. it's hard to say from blog to blog what is going to come out - sometimes I wheel out the same old guff and other times I surprise myself. 

What I do think though is that writing this blog gives me empetus to keep on creating and that in itself is a positive thing.

That and the inspiration from Mr. Blakemore - weird how something can live with you for decades until you put your finger on it. I have clearly been inspired!

So on that note, take care, be good and remember that rubber trousers are terrible for your skin.

H xx

Certified

Morning folks - at the risk of being boring, I'm sorry but I'm going to go where I've gone before and am going to try to define what photography is to me.

A friend from the DCA forum (Hi Steve!) recently very kindly took me on a small road trip to a fabulous bit of coastline, not too far away. 

It was a 'photo-walk', though I was rather encumbered with the 500C/M, 60mm Distagon, 150mm Sonnar and a tripod. Unusually for me I also took a couple of filters - a 0.9 ND and a 25 Red.

Now of course I could have gone light and just taken a digital whatever with zoom and probably got results I would have been happy with (in another life!) and looked at them on a screen and said "Oooh, ain't they lovely!" but I didn't - I wanted something I could print.

The day was extraordinary - it had been a -6 degree sunrise, followed by a biting wind, and then incredibly brilliant sunshine. The latter was so strong that everything was pretty harsh, even at an hour past sun-up; not really what you would call (if there is such a thing) 'ideal photo conditions.'

So I decided, rather than go my usual route of trying to get something 'normal', I'd try something different.

I don't know about you, but the world really does seem like a more exciting place with a red filter on!

I'll put this down to a large costume jewellery fake ruby that I had in my toy box when I was small - I loved it so much that I would quite often view the world that way, and (weirdly) I think it is an element of that, that gives me comfort when I put a red filter on and view the camera-world that way. 

Not that I do it very often . . . however (with hindsight and now after printing the negatives) I can honestly say I wish I had done it more often. 

And because of that, I have discovered something, which works for me, that has turned what could have been vin ordinaire photographs into something with a bit more character.

I think normal photographic thinking says that really you DO NOT want the levels of contrast a red filter gives in a photograph. OK, it brings out the clouds for a bit of drama and that's OK, even acceptable in a sort of photo club competition way.

But I'm not a member of a photo club and don't like competitions; I like my landscape real and atmospheric, not chocolate box and someone else's ideal of what a landscape should look like.

The sun had blasted any atmosphere clean out of its trousers - it wasn't going to look good.

So I had a thunk whilst walking and talking:

Hmmmmmm - what if I metered the scene for its shadows and placed them on Zone III (my normal practice) then, given the possible crossover into reciprocity failure because of stopping down a lot (only 1/500th on a Hasselblad remember - gotta take it to f32 or f 45) really gave them a massive dose of exposure. 

Then processed the film using a semi-compensating dilution of something like HC110 (Dilution H in my case) and really didn't agitate too much . . then, when they were dry, print them on Grade 1?

 

I could have done with a cuppa at that point and tbh, Grade 1 never occurred to me until I had the negs developed. But that's the beauty of film-based photography -  betwixt the snappin' and the flappin' something happens - not always for the best, and other times a surprise.

In the dark, DeVere whooshing away, trying to print the negatives, I encountered a tonality I've not encountered in my prints before. 

Normally, when I've printed on soft grades they have been extraordinarily disappointing. 

Shite is actually the word of choice. 

No two ways about it . . even though you're supposed to with a harder negative.

But this time I seem to have encountered John Blakemore's (you've never heard of him????? c'mon) tonality, in an entirely accidental way.

It is hard to tell from the scans, but if you were to grab a print and a cuppa and sit down with me, you'd see it. 

Of course, though, this is roll film - a collection of strangers locked forever in time on the same strip of polyester  -  they're not all going to be printed on the same grade (as you can see) but those three I have put below (the Grade 1 prints) to my eyes, definitely have the Blakemore thing going on.

So if you try to use this method and are only scanning your negatives . . . good luck. 

But if you are printing I hope it works for you as it has for me.

500 C/M, 60mm Distagon, No Filter.
Sunstars pure happenstance.
Grade 4.5

500 C/M, 150mm Sonnar, Red 25.
Grade 1
Hello John

500 C/M, 150mm Sonnar, Red 25.
Grade 1
Hello John

500 C/M, 150mm Sonnar, Red 25, ND 0.9.
7 Second exposure, f32
Grade 1
Hello John

500 C/M, 150mm Sonnar, Red 25, ND 0.9.
10 Second exposure, f32
Grade 3 (to bring up the surf)

Now, as you can imagine, this took a lot of time and work.  Whilst being in the darkroom on a nice sunny day, I often thought, blimey, I could just have taken them digitally and been happy. 

I found myself getting tired and frustrated and then elated.

I decided to do something about it.

Regular readers will know I have a Sony A6000 and Nikkor adapter, so the following day I took it up to Balgay cemetery to try and prove something to myself. 

The lens was the Pre-Ai 24mm Nikkor, and below are the two things I am happy with:

Sony A6000, 24mm Pre-Ai Nikkor

Sony A6000, 24mm Pre-Ai Nikkor

The colours are lovely - very muted, which is what I expected from early Nikon coating and I think in another life I would be happy. 

But they just don't give me any feeling at all.

Nada.

Zilch.

They're cold.

And I went back and reviewed many digital images, and felt exactly the same way. 

Then I looked at prints - the good, the bad, and the downright ugly - and I felt some affection for them. 

And I believe that is because I had to put the effort in to make them. 

Countless hours, learning and seeing and thinking and appreciating. 

The feeling of nausea that I'd wasted a £2.50 sheet of paper. 

The anticipation of a final image . . . that final rise to the surface and completion of development like some primordial art work being discovered for the first time.

It is a HUGE THING. 

It's wonderful.

I'm typing this with a shiver, because it can really get to you.

With digital everything is perfect; there's no waiting; anticipation is defused simply by the act of looking at your camera screen.

I imbue my prints with my feelings. 

They are a struggle, and surely half of what life can be about, is struggle. 

Yes, easy can be lovely and wonderful, but when you are trying to create (sorry folks) ART, then the struggle is the hone.

And that's it. That's why I do it.

I should be certified.

Putting your ALL into something has both benefits and disadvantages. I like to think the benefits outweigh the latter.

So, despite the ease of digital, I am going to keep on keeping on till they stop making the stuff (film and paper and chemicals).

I love it.

It's been a part of me for a huge chunk of my life and ONLY FILM AND DARKROOM PRINTING will satisfy me.

Full stop.

The end.

Must go now - that pasta has been boiling for about 3 hours . . . . 

H xxx

Ritual Landscape

Good morning to you!

Whizz, Thrub, Boing Boing - better get those Cormthrusters adjusted, because Ye Olde Sheephouse Time Machine is in operation again.

Oh yes, none of this modern stuff - we're heading back to a time when peat-smoke and rush-lights were all the rage.
When life hung by a thread.
When magic was real and something as mundane as a small wood could bring you out in cold sweats of awe.
Got yourself buckled in yet?
Good.
Off we go!

I've battled with myself about publishing this, because, whilst the place is relatively well-known, it also isn't, and to be honest I'd rather keep it that way.

So all I can say is if you do recognise it, keep it to yourself; and if you don't well, you can find similar - dig deep into your local topology; study maps and stuff - as my recent find of what I believe to be two unmarked (on maps) Neolithic (? - certainly incredibly old) way markers proves (well, it does to me) if you open your eyes and start to strip away 'modernity', you'll open up your Inner Ancient.
The world is littered with sites waiting to be found - pre-history stretches back further than the imagination.

They're out there, possibly waiting to be photographed - or (more likely in this world of Trip Advisor Recommended Mass Tourism) wanting to be appreciated quietly - always ask permission - that's what I did here.

Once again I am also in debt to a camera - the Hasselblad SWC/M and also to the lady called Florence who assembled them back in the '80's.

I can't define what it is, but to my eyes, photographic magic happens within it.

That's not me saying there's anything special about the photos I've taken with it either; it is more that in every film I process from it, light can be transformed into something both true and ethereal all at the same time.

Oh, and I'm also indebted to Ilford's FP4.
After years of trying this and trying that, I keep coming back to it. Whilst it isn't always ideal in Scotland - especially in the Winter - if you're using a tripod you should be fine.

There's just something about it - a balance, that I can't define, however HP5+ and Delta do look very different (when they're printed) as does all the Kodak etc etc stuff.

So, FP4 it was.

I felt I had something special to my eyes when I was taking them.

Reviewing and prepping this blog a few weeks later, I am going to go all wishy-washy on you and dedicate these photographs to the memory of my old mentor Joseph McKenzie.

Way back, and before Big Stoppers were ever even dreamed of, he encouraged me to make longer exposures of rocks n'stuff - I am not sure they were ever really successful tho'. 

They were inspired by the 'new' stuff I was seeing by John Blakemore! Gosh 40-odd years ago! I'll dedicate this to John too - he was groundbreaking and every landscape photographer, whether they know it or not, is indebted to him,
And not only to John, but also (someone I believe to have been an influence on him) Wynn Bullock who deliberately exacerbated the time/motion of long exposures and is about the first I can find who did it deliberately.
So this is dedicated to Wynn too!

Anyway, back to the main drag.
There I was (son dropped off for a very early shift) whizzing through the early-dawn, quiet lanes, with hope in my heart and a smattering of (steady . . .) excitement.
It's a weird feeling, because (and I don't know about you, but it happens to me all the time) when you get to where you're going, you almost feel like turning around and heading home. Numerous doubts creep in - the biggest for me, is does it feel right?
It doesn't have to just be about the environment - though that can influence things a lot.
It's more:

Is my heart in this? 

AM I UP FOR IT?

Without a doubt, it is self-doubt.
I could whine on about the confidence-sapping of a tiny fat-boy, by a few teachers (it's a big thing!).
I could tell you that I've doubted every single creative thing I have ever done.
It is real, and a total pain in the arse.
However, sometimes you just have to have a stern word with yourself, muster the energies and get moving.
And that's what I did. I got myself out of the car, donned super-chunkers (for muddy conditions), cleared my mind, and appreciated that I was on the edge of a place that oozed something.

It was around dawn and the cut where I was, was still smothered in a deep gloam - Mother Nature's Big Stopper as it were.

It was really pushing the abilities of the Gossen Lunasix 3S - a supremely capable low-light meter . . Some of these readings were heading to minus 2 EV.
Hardly the most ideal of situations, especially with a film as slow as I was using.

Film #66/74

FP4+ EI 80

1. 2 --> 4 Seconds f16 ZIII - Hyperfocal

2. 4 --> 7 Seconds f16 ZIII - Hyperfocal

3. 4 --> 10 Seconds f16 ZIII - Hyperfocal

4. 30 Seconds --> 2 Minutes 25 Seconds f16 ZIII 

5. 8 --> 20 Seconds f11 ZIII

6. 15 --> 55 Seconds f11 ZIII - Votive

7. 15 --> 55 Seconds f11 ZIII

8. 1 Minute --> 6 Minutes f11 ZIII !!

9. 6 --> 10 Seconds f16 ZIII

10. 4 --> 8 Seconds f8 ZIII

11. 4 --> 10 Seconds f8 ZIII 

12. 5 --> 16 Seconds f16 ZIII River

Developed in Pyrocat-HD 5+5+500ml 22℃ - Usual Agitation to 15 minutes - Stand to 18 Minutes and 30 Seconds.

As you can see from the above exposure record, these were really long times, and as such you have to reduce every single movement to nil.

How D'ya Do Zat Zen?

Well, it's actually really hard - I've no idea how Michael Kenna does some of his night exposure stuff, because wind always comes into play. 

The camera will always move no matter how tightly constrained. 

Don't believe me? 

Put your camera on a tripod and just watch it - it can be very alarming.

So with that a factor, you really need to cinch things down tight.

I use a very small (4 inch) Kaiser locking cable release, as it doesn't blow around too much if it is windy, and you can actually lock the end of it into the SW's body with the crank. 

The tripod was my beloved CF Gitzo series 3 (GT3530S).

The head is an OTT Arca B1 PMF - it was really reasonably priced when I bought it and locks like a bulldog on a postman's leg.

I've an Arca plate (though solid the screw for attaching to the camera isn't really recommended!) and this is attached to a Hasselblad QR plate. It means I can swap the two 'Blads around quite simply. The Hasselblad QR system is mechanically simple and effective.

And that's it - sounds a bit over the top I agree, but it is as solid as I can get things.

In case you are wondering, the ZIII mentioned above, is in reality a bit of a borrow from The Zone System, however these aren't true Zone System-based photographs, but I believe I can operate like this in my own way. 

Basically I get the lowest shadow reading I can get from my light meter, and then reduce the exposure by 2 stops - so say I have measured 1 second at f8, I am turning that into ¼ of a second at f8 - this gives some cause a effect to the shadows. Were I to leave it at 1 second at f8 the shadows would be rendered mid-grey. 

But this is like teaching your Grandmother to suck eggs - you know all this stuff already!

I also don't shoot at box speed - with FP4 rather than EI/ISO 125 I'll use EI 80 - effectively almost adding another stop of extra exposure too - this is something I got from a Barry Thornton book, and I just blithely accepted it - now I begin to wonder why. 

I do think maybe, what with Barry using his BT 2 bath (a good developer, but ultimately lacking in contrast - that's been the case for me and Bruce from The Online Darkroom) whether he was compensating for that to get a bit of guts in the negatives. 

I'll try some stuff at box speed and see what happens!

Exposures of these times, unless you're operating a Zone System expansion and contraction methodology with regard to exposure and development, can be rendered fairly useless by blanket development with a standard developer over a whole roll of film. 

There's just way too much variation. 

Thankfully, Pyrocat-HD has been a total boon - it smooths out any highlight burn-out, but still brings substance to the shadows. 

Whilst I should mix my own, I don't and have been using the premix from Wet Plate Supplies - you can find it here - it isn't cheap, but it really does last very well and you'll get roughly 20 rolls of 120 developed per 100ml kit.

And the beauty of it, is that you can standardise your development time for all the films you use - for me I can develop FP4+, HP5+, SFX, Delta's 100 and 400, Kodak films (though they've priced themselves into a corner these days) and anything else I can think of with a standard regime.

Here it is.

21 or 22 ℃; constant agitation (gentle) for the first 30 seconds; then 4 inversions (or twiddles with the Patterson twiddler) every minute; to usually 14 minutes; one last agitation; then leave till 18 minutes.

I wouldn't recommend it with tray processing for sheet film (they'd just find a skeleton hunched over the trays) but I think my times seem to be around the average ballpark of other users.

Give it a go and tell them I sent you.

It gives me a negative that is a cinch to print.

Back to the main drag - I was so excited when I saw the developed negatives that the next day I actually printed the whole roll. 

I have never done that in my life.

Paper was the 5x7" Agfa MCC fibre-based paper I mentioned recently. 

Some of the prints seem to be slightly out of focus - this could be the effect of the PVD on my eyes vs. the grain focusers - it's really hard work! 

Hopefully it'll improve soon and apologies to all you sharpness nuts - please bear in mind the actual image size is only a tiddler - around 4½ inches square, so it isn't actually covering the side of a building - and the effect on small paper is fine and pleasantly viewable.

Anyway, get your druid gowns or woad or full body-tatts on.

Please don't go all Celtic-brother on me though - this is a Pictish site.

As you can see, remarkably, after millenia of use, it still means something to people.

I find that heartening.

Thankfully there were no dirty campers, dogs, camp fires or beer . . 

It was just me, the Mother and a dawn-light that made me want to cry.

But there was none of that namby-pamby stuff going on - the Time Machine was only there for the briefest of windows . . . I had work to do!

Ritual Landscape 1

Ritual Landscape 2

Ritual Landscape 3

Ritual Landscape 4

Ritual Landscape 5

Ritual Landscape 6

Ritual Landscape 7

Ritual Landscape 8

Ritual Landscape 9

Ritual Landscape 10

Ritual Landscape 11

Ritual Landscape 12

Well, that's it. I know there's a couple of them that don't cut the mustard but on the whole as an exploration I feel they work.

My favourite is without a doubt Frame 12, however the print this is scanned from isn't entirely sharp and neither is the negative, though it is sharper than the print.
I'll put it down to my gorilla-like grip on the cable release - I didn't lock it, just gripped and prayed, giving the tiniest of movements to the camera . .  . amplify that by 16 seconds and you get the drift.

Despite that, to me the overall impression is one of light and I dunno, hope and peace too.
I think that carries it through any technical deficiencies. 

The print looks lovely by the way.

As before, these were developed in an ancient but fresh mixing of Kodak Polymax (still got loads left too) stopped in Kodak stop and fixed in First Call's soft-pack fixer - which I believe to be based on a Agfa formula - it's a very sensible bit of packaging for those of us who aren't printing every day. They were lightly toned (1-2 minutes) in a weakish solution of Kodak Selenium and air-dried (with clothes pegs holding them) from an ancient retractable caravan clothes line (which I inherited along with the house).

I still find myself muttering (as I carry a tray full of prints and water out of the darkroom and into the bathroom):

"I'll bet Ansel never had to wash his prints in a bath"

Ah the delights of a guerilla darkroom!

And that's it for this time.

I also have to say that I am going to have a wee break from writing this, as, apart from a bit of colour exploration, I am completely up-to-date in detailing everything. 
But aside from that, the PVD is really getting to me and rendering everything quite difficult, from taking photos (it's really hard to see aperture markings!), to printing, to even writing this. 

So, give it a few weeks or so and I'll see how I go - it's amazing how something so seemingly inconsequential (and commonplace - the optician's own words) can have such a large effect on one's life, but it is doing so.

Anyway, until the next time, go on, get some paper maps out along with a nice mug of beer and have an explore in your head, and then go and find some parts of this ancient landscape we're all surrounded by and record them - you never know, the Earth Spirit might just be kind to you.

Beam me up Scotchman.

Homeless

I pondered about this one, because, despite the title it isn't technically about being Homeless - please read on though - hopefully I'll be able to explain myself better.

There's a gulch near my house - I guess round these parts you'd call it a glen, albeit a really really small one. It is steep and contains a well-maintained public footpath.
It's been there for a long time as far as I can tell.
There's a wall alongside it that I would say dates back to at least the mid-1800's by the look of it, however it is probably likely that the course of the path runs much further back in time.
The wall is certainly on the 1847 Charles Edwards Survey Map.
In my experience boundaries of all kinds are usually far older than they seem.

Prior to the railways arriving, the Firth of Tay was boundaried in this part of town by a cliff before it hit the docks of the city centre. This gulch runs down through what is still there of the cliff.
There is vegetation everywhere - dense old trees, ramsons, ground ivy, bramble, gorse. 

It is (unusually, for public land) completely wild; the council haven't attacked it with weed killer or strimmers.

There are what appear to be animal trackways - they could well belong to deer or foxes or just the humble coney. They're well used, but there's no spraints of any animal variety, just human and then not very often, but it doesn't half give you a surprise!

In amongst this wildness, this lost parcel of land, someone has, at some point in recent time, chosen to take refuge.

I'll pause there, because immediately to my mind the word desperation makes itself felt.

Well. you'll see what I mean when you see the photographs. 

I can sort of understand it though. 

The area is relatively secluded, well, actually, it is very secluded, yet you're within a ten minute walk of food shops and so on.

And yet, despite their invisibility, the sites (there are/were two of them) are despoiled.

Vandals?

Madness?

Who knows?

The site in these photographs contains a (not very obvious) sleeping bag kicked into the dirt and the remnants of a campsite - old buckets, plastic, bottles and tins.
The refuse is actually quite well hidden in the undergrowth, like they wanted it to be secret.

Slowly nature is reclaiming this brief intrusion, as she will always.

The other site contains the same detritus, plus the wreckage of a tarp shelter; a traffic cone; more buckets; some tins and, perhaps shockingly to these modern sensibilities, some sad, lone bits of excrement.
It's a weird thing - everybody does it, few talk about it, but when you discover such a thing, when you nearly plant your foot in it, it becomes a matter of outrage.
You feel really unclean.
I came home and sanitized my tripod legs and shoes

With regards to our depositor of surprises, where has this person gone? 

That's what I'd like to know.

In the past year of so, this is the fourth destroyed campsite I've seen, and not just in my area, but in various bits of the town - the Docks and Seabraes.
Is it the same person?
If it is, to just abandon everything like your sleeping bag, tarp, tent etc., why?

Anyway, I'll leave the unponderables.

Maybe you have a similar thing going on where you live.
It's always worth lifting those bushes and checking - if someone wants to take themselves out of society, well, though not easy, it can be done.

I'm actually reminded of a brilliant book by William Boyd, called Ordinary Thunderstorms, about a scientist, who, through no fault of his own, is thrust into the world of invisibility and starts sleeping rough.

It's a rip-snorter of a plot and highly recommended.

Anyway, enough - on with the photos, though as usual you get the notes too!

Film #66/72

1. 4 second reading to 10 seconds - f8 ZIII - Garage

2. 4 second reading to 10 seconds - f22 ZIII - 21cm Focus - Parallax - Gargh!

3. 1 second reading to 3 seconds - f16 ZIII

4. 1 second - f11 ZIII  - Homeless

5. 2 second reading to 5 seconds - f22 ZIII - Tape Measure 48cm

6. 2 second reading to 5 seconds - f16 ZIII - Tape Measure 52cm - Ivy

7. 1 second - f16 - ZIII

8. 1/2 second - f22 - ZIII

9. 2 second reading to 5 seconds - f11 ZIII - Homeless

10. 2 second reading to 5 seconds - f16 ZIII - Ivy + Tripod Leg

11. 8 second reading to 19 seconds - f22 ZIII - Tape Measure 50cm to 150cm Focus

12. 8 second reading to 19 seconds - f22 ZIII - Quick Release Plate Came Loose

Used a small tape measure a lot - worked well, be sure to use it in the future.

5+5+500ml PHD 22℃ - agit to 14 mins, stand to 18 mins.

The detail on every leaf is extraordinary   - it's like they are etched - very pleasing to my eyes especially considering the blurriness from the PVD which is ongoing and very flarey

Homeless I

Homeless II

Homeless III

Homeless IV

Homeless V

Homeless VI

Homeless VII

Homeless VIII

I know, I can hear you saying it to yourself:

"But where's the filfth? Where's the grinding poverty? Where the Don McCullin man?"

Well, you know, they're/it's not there and that's the sort of semi-surreal thing about it, and I guess that why I am most pleased with Homeless VIII.

The 19 second exposure has given movement to the tree's branches, which in turn has added an air of unreality and dream to it. 

Well it has to my eyes.

Don't worry - I don't think I'll be going all Lee Big Stopper on you yet - that whole branch of modern photography is rather sad. If you want to see what it can truly do, please search out John Blakemore - he was innovating (after a manner with the baton from Wynn Bullock) decades ago.
If you've never looked at either photographer's works, please search them out.

Kudos must be paid to Pyrocat-HD as a developer - without a staining developer there's no way in heck the highlights would have had a chance of being printed.

I know I am lucky too in having the SWC/M to rely on - every single piece of veining on leaves shows up - the Biogon is without a doubt the greatest lens I have ever used.
Not the easiest, no, but certainly the one that renders foliage in a most extraordinary way.
The closest I can get to it is by saying that you can count every leaf and blade, which you really can't with a lot of lenses.

I used my handy Ilford Reciprocity tables - basically, apart from SFX, most Ilford film under time pressure exhibits the same reciprocity failure, so I knocked up a sheet (along with Kodak) affixed it to some card, and laminated it with cellotape - works great!

These are all 800 dpi scans off of the original prints. 

They're all made by me, on my knees (!) in my guerilla darkroom - I guess where there's a will there's a way.

Paper is my current easy go-to paper - Ilford MGRC and they're all on Grade 3, except the contact which was Grade 2. I suppose if I was using a condenser head on the DeVere I'd be Grade 2 for the prints, but no, it's a colour head, so  Grade 3.

I will say, that with my current PVD affecting my eyes, it was damn hard using the grain focuser - they both seemed to be disagreeing (I have two - a Paterson and a Micromega) but in reality it was my eyes at work - very difficult . . but I got there.

Weirdly and cosmically, there's a denouement to all this:

Last night me and t'missus settled down to watch the physicist Brian Cox in his Wonders Of The Universe series - she had some wine and I enjoyed a couple of fine glasses of Ardmore whisky.
Old Coxy boy was explaining atoms and elements; you know the 'We're All Made Of Star Stuff' stuff, and it hit me, that this homeless person and their soon-to-be-returned-to-its-natural-state camp; all the detritus; my camera and film; tripod; the time measured with my Gossen meter and its handy Zone wheel; clothes; me; chemicals; paper; Ardmore; the missus; Coxy; my TV; the tide running deep and wild out in the estuary; my CD player (and Mike Oldfield as I type this); keyboard; ICs in the Mac; phone cables; satellites; you . . .

We're all from the same gaff.

From the same complex, vast in both time and complexity, mishmash of cosmic mashiness.

Like the best bubble and squeak you've ever had, where everything works together, or should work together.

Humans, we have to get there.

There's no going forward nowadays without tolerance, kindness and co-operation.
We're at a point in time where it could soar or go utterly shit-shaped.
For human-kind to progress and lift itself above the sad, petty madness, people have to change.
It is probably unlikely, because there's nothing humans like more than regularity and confirmity and the certainty of the known, but I think you have to move out of that comfort zone sometimes.
Change is good.
It's why we're here.

Maybe homeless person has changed or change has happened to them?
Maybe they 'got lucky' and are driving around in one of the countless bloody Audis you see coming up fast in your rear-view.
Or maybe they copped it and are hidden deep within some Lost Council Wildness waiting for some unfortunate photographer to discover them . . .
Maybe they're still out there, sheltering under some forgotten hedgerow, waiting for time to be kinder to them . . .
Who knows.

That's all there is to it.

For myself I've resolved to think even more on things and try to be less persnickety and pernickety.
Sometimes you have to force yourself to approach things differently.
To quote my hero, Rambling Syd Rumpo from the Sussex Whirdling Song:

"So there he is, a-plighting his troth ...

A troth, by the way, is a small furry creature with fins. It's a cross between a trout and a sloth or slow-th, and it's a curious match. I often wonder what they saw in each other in the first place, though I suppose the sloth, hanging upside down, tends to have a different slant on things."

There, something that makes me laugh, with language distilled from that most disliked of humans (next to the immigrant) the Romany.

It's what everyone needs though - a different slant on things - celebrate your inner sloth.

Weird eh, and sorry for expounding when all you wanted to do was read about film and stuff . . but that's what you get from getting up at 5 AM and drinking too much tea (Hi Mike!!)

Anyway, that's shallot.

I am relatively up-to-date photographically now, so it could be a while before I post anything new.

I did think I could do some more SFX stuff, but the spectre of wrong Nm hit me - it was ghastly and might well be a tale further down the line . . .

Oh and things might change on the next FB simply because Google have decided to change the way you use it to write - I've tried it already and it was more for phone-users and not keyboard heroes . . . 

Over and out - watch out for that trout.

Told you so.