The Ralph Gibson Experiment (Part Two)

Phew, shipmates.
That's all I can say to you . . Phew!

The weather this week has been, to tell the truth, worse than a hold full o' Space Hoppers.
Oh yes, we've been powerful affected by wind, and plenty of it. And what does wind cause? Waves, and not just small ones neither.
Give the wind half a chance and it'll whip up 200 nautical miles o' ocean into something resembling a party of drunken intruders on a cosy evening in.

Now we's used to that, why wouldn't we be? but it does bring with it problems.
Yes we have supplies, and yus, most times the only things to do are to stow the sails and wait it out, but there's one problem they'll never show 'ee on Pirates Of The Caribbean . . . excrement.

Most times in good weather you can sit yourself at the stern and drop till your heart's content and no one'll disturb ye, or just whip off a quick tinkle and back to work.
But in a storm, all there is is the bucket.
And it's no man's favourite job to take that bucket a'deck and chuck it over the side, especially when the wind is coming at you at 40 knots, but it's a job that has to be done. 

I'll tell 'ee shipmates, it's no joke having ten men's droppings blasting back at ye in the teeth o' a gale.
But there, that's life on the ocean wave.

It's bad for old Mog too.
Cats is private creatures.
Watch a cat doing it's business and it'll not really trust ye again.
Normally he'll hop onto the rear rail and drop and spray like any man.
"Kathmandu!" comes the cry and we's leaves him alone, but tisn't safe for a cat on the rear rail in a storm, so he'll head to the bilge pretending he's looking for anything that'll provide a couple o'hours o'fun and we leave's him alone to do his business.
But this week he seemed different.
Like I say we were laid up with that wind and sea, but Mog looked damned assured of himself.
He kept mighty clean, and swaggered around the shop, no skulking, just cleanliness and spit an' polish.
In a word, he was up to something.

Now I abide honesty more than any man-jack alive and when I think something's up, I'll come right out and ask. So I did.

"Mog," I said, "you're up to summat, old friend!"

Now Mog, being a cat, obviously can't speak, but we've been around enough together to know what each of us is saying.

That cat had been peeing somewhere, call it a Cap'n's Sixth Sense. Call it a Keen Hooter, but amongst all the familiar smells of a ship with the hatches battened down, there was not one single whiff o' cat's pish.

Mog looked at me, in that sly way he has sometimes, and strolled off in the direction of Sheephouse's cabins.

(Sheephouse was up above, lashed to a mast with a decent length o'rope to stop him falling overboard and was chucking his interiors into the teeth o' the storm.)

Mog nosed open the door o' Sheephouse's darkroom, jumped up onto a worktop and used his rear to push a bottle forward.

I unscrewed the lid, and took a look. The liquid was a dark reddy-brown, and fairly concentrated looking. I took a look at the bottle again, and larfed. 

Oh how I larfed, my sides split. 

Even Mog was larfing too . . . .

 PSST . . . . DON'T TELL SHEEPHOUSE!

***

I know, I know . . you have been pacing the floors, not sleeping, off your food. Your libido has vanished entirely. The washing-up hasn't been done. Your wife is checking your smartphone for evidence. Your skin has taken on a wan hue. You haven't made a photograph all week. What's wrong? What's wrong!
Nothing is wrong you big baby - worry no more, because Part Two of 'The Ralph Gibson Experiment' is back.
It's big, bold, brash, brave, chock-a-block with bonhomie, bravura and beans. Oh yes, never in the field of photographic experimentation has so much been done by so few for so many.
So hoist your trousers and put a Do Not Disturb sign on your brain, because when we are done, things will never be the same again. Indeed, the world may never be the same again, because we are treading new(ish) and unknown territory, where a monster lurks 'round every corner, and fortune favours the brave!
Of course, literal interpretations of the above are welcome, but then again, most people would consider you utterly mad, so take it all with a pinch of salt and just mutter "F'in Sheephouse" to yourself a few times. You'll get there. Just imagine what it is like for me -  I have to share the same brain with him . . .

Firstly I will preface all this for those of you expecting to see some photographs that look like Mr.Gibsons'. 
It isn't going to happen. 
Why?
Well, as I stated last week, this was purely an experiment to see whether his shooting and processing technique (as detailed in the book Darkroom) would work for me. That is the be-all and end-all. I couldn't emulate him and I have no wish too.

Last week I set you up with a feast of information, and this week, guess what? yep - it's info overload. It will all be needed to be digested, however it is easy, and especially so, if I distill last week's post down to a paragraph.
Would you like that? Would you?
OK, seeing as I am feeling benevolent.


Kodak Tri-X, at mostly EI 400
Sunny day shooting regime: 1/250th of a second at f16
Shoot in bright sun on Tri-X with the camera set for f16
10cc of Rodinal for every film used.
Dilution of 1 + 25.
Temperature 68° Farenheit.
Agitation for 10 seconds every one-and-a-half minutes
Total development time 11 minutes.

How's that for the summation of a life's work and technique (apologies to Ralph - no disrespect meant) but at least if you read the above, it means you don't need to read last week's post . . what do you mean . . you couldn't be arsed reading it anyway?? Were I not of sound mind I might take umbrage at that . . however I am not so I won't. I generally like to think that if you have learned something, and it can be passed on, then one should out of human duty.
So, long-winded preamble out of the the way . . where was I?
Ah yes, basic reference meter readings taken, film loaded, pack-mule fed and burdened with Koni-Omega and sprightly spring in my step as I head off towards Ye Olde Hawkhill in search of some eye-candy.

Grossly romanticised Sheephouse, and we won't be having any of that around here you know. This is Britain.
Eye-candy?
You mean pleasant subject matter don't you?
(Official communication from The Ministry Of Britishness; dated 25th February 2013)

Well, yes, eye-candy isn't really a word that can be applied to the Hawkhill in Dundee - it is a bit of a 'non' area these days - all the interesting bits were demolished back in the 1960's and 1970s and it is now a rough collection of University buildings and low-lying industrial units.
Apparently, in 1954, the Hawkhill boasted 13 pubs, 2 wine merchants, 12 sweetie shops, 15 bakers, 21 grocers, 7 Scots/Italian chippies and 2 bicycle shops. Some 20 years later, it was almost reduced to rubble by redevelopment.
My lecturer and friend from college days, Mr.Joseph McKenzie, detailed the whole lot in an extraordinary photographic essay called Hawkhill, Death Of A Living Community. Sadly this hasn't been exhibited in years, which is a terrible shame. It is a an important statement on the corruption and frenzy from a black period of time in British Architectural Improvements.
Anyway, here's some pictures from the opposite end of the Hawkhill to where I would be starting, to illustrate the changes wrought.

BEFORE
Session Street is on the right

AFTER
Session Street is still on the right, but where has the character gone?

Look at that. I honestly feel that if the wholesale mass crushing of Dundee's architecture hadn't happened, and the money had instead been spent on improving the older buildings rather than knocking them down, you'd have a city that could possibly be regarded as one of the world's architectural jewels. It still retained most of its medieaval street layouts well into the 20th Century.
Anyway, mostly gone now, and along the Hawkhill, one is overcome by, how shall we say, dullness. It does still have a couple of real olde-time pubs though .  .The Cambeltown Bar and The Hawkhill Tavern, but there used to be so much more. 

Anyway, enuff o' me shite . . onwards. 

(Oh, actually, if you are at all interested, photographically, we have the most incredible archive, made by a [ahem] Amateur photographer, Mr.Alexander Wilson and made between the 1870's and early 1900's. They capture a city that was a hub of Victorian Britain - famous for its 3 J's - Jute, Jam and Journalism, but also its lesser known industries of ship building and whaling. It was a place of extremes, from total poverty [found in backies in the likes of the Hawkhill and the Hilltown, to mansions on the upper reaches of the Perth Road and Millionaire's Mile on the East side of town - at one time containing the highest proportion of millionaires in Britain - pretty remarkable when you are talking about Victorian Britain!] Anyway, if you have a half an hour you can find the photographs here.)

Am I trying to take my time here . . well, no . . but I do enjoy a nice meander.
Anyway, here goes - I will warn in advance that my scanner, even scanning in Greyscale, has imparted a pinkish tinge to the following images. They're scans off the contact print, and they've been sharpened a tad and contrast has been adjusted a tad too.
For the full effect of Tri-X in Rodinal one merely has to go to the very last photograph of the crop of Sir Alan Sugar's face and bear in mind it was a hand-held photograph. I think you'll agree the performance is none too tardy.
Oh and I am going to shoehorn in a bit about meter readings here - as I stated earlier I took some average ones before I left the house. According to my Gossen meter the EV's (Exposure Values) ran from 13 to 16, which is fairly typical for round here, so based on the recommended box speed of Tri-X:
At EI 400, EV13 = 1/30th @ f16
At EI 400, EV16 = 1/250th @ f16
His recommendation is right at the top of my readings, so I adjusted by one stop to 1/125th @ f16 for every shot and hoped it would all work out.
Oh, and the text in calm blue is linked to appropriate pages should you be interested.
Right here goes folks - in a rather un-photographer-y way, I am now laying my heart and my embarassment on my sleeve, and showing you the full contact sheet (split up) - there's nowhere for me to hide. Most frames are terrible, but one is a keeper.

***

1

Right, Photo 1:

Well, I hit the Sinderins behind this bloke. He stopped right in front of me, and I hate that, so I backed up whilst he was texting, and snapped at him. I then realised that a Koni-Omega is not exactly a snapshot camera - it is surprisingly easy to use, but it isn't good for an instinctive shot. By the time you have lifted it to your face, the moment has gone, or, people think you are going to assault them - it is that big.
As big as a face actually.

*

2

Photo 2:

I turned up Peddie Street and headed towards the industrial units there - they are bleak and interesting and contain one of Dundee's greatest gems - Clark's All-Night Bakery.
Famously described as 'heart attack central', basically if you find yourself in need of tasty stodge at any hour of the day or night, it is the place to go.
Want attitude? You'll apparently get it, though we have only ever encountered friendliness.
More importantly, want Chips and Curry Sauce at 3AM on a Sunday morning? You'll get it.

This photo is of the roof of Clark's. I have made loads of this same scene over the years and still can't capture it.
And I wasn't successful this time either - soot and chalk in extremis.

*

3

Photo 3:

I headed back towards the Hawkhill, but wandered into Halley-Stevensons - a relatively unknown gem of Dundee. They're the oldest producer of waxed cotton fabrics in the world. So, I would say they supply Barbour etc . . quite something eh!
Situated in The Baltic Works, there are many photographic opportunities.

I was taken by this reflection, but here you see that a rangefinder isn't so good for closeups, because stuff intrudes into the frame but you don't realise until later. It is unclear on the contact, but on the negative the de-silvering of the mirror adds a strange edge to the reality.

Anyway, cropped I think it would work.

*

4

Photo 4:

Halley-Stevensons again . . but look at the vertical . . it's off, and thus renders this permanently annoying for me. Incredible detail though!

*

5

Photo 5:

Same place, but another dull photograph - again the detail is very good.

*

6

Photo 6:

Now this is the one I like the most. It is more me. I like this sort of carefully composed urban landscape detail.
It's at the sculpture entrance to Duncan Disorderly College Of Art.
I used to go there you know . . . and whilst it was a valuable education, despite the nice website, I'll quote Public Enemy again . . "Don't believe the hype".
Unless it has changed dramatically (it may well have; in fact it probably has) I found it to be a creative mincer. Bright optimism in, stifled creativity sausages out. But thinking about it, that was probably just olde curmudgeonly me.
My one solace from the shoehorning of ideas that was occuring in the Graphics Department, was Joseph McKenzie's oasis - the Photography Department.
Joe ran a wonderful ship, where creativity was encouraged. My only slight criticism, was that technicality wasn't emphasised. But that is just me. I like a bit of technical . .that's why I am writing this.

Back to DOJ though, Gerry Badger and Albert Watson went there too . . but as I say, those were the days when they had a photography department. These days it is called Time Based Art and Digital Film - click the link and it will take you there. Notice no mention made of photography! 
Hmmm . . . och well, all this criticism . . bang goes any chance of becoming a part-time lecturer in monochrome photography and traditional darkroom practice . . but onwards.
Anyway, to me this photograph works, however, it also shows me that the framelines on the Koni are possibly misaligned as I cropped it a lot closer than this.

On a positive note - look at the detail!

*

7

Photo 7:

Then it was round the back of the College and down the side, meanwhile these two dogs were barking at me, so I thought . . wait a minute, you can't do that, so I took their picture and stopped them barking.
That's true actually - the Koni stilled them into a stasis which was only broken when I moved away . . oh, the power of that camera, but then again, maybe they thought it was a large black piece of square meat . . .

*

8

Photo 8:
From there it was onto the Perth Road opposite Drouthys and head back to base.
Next up is Williams' Newsagent. This is an old-style traditional newsagent (fags, sweets and papers . . none of yer modern fripperies).
I wanted a to try a close-up of the shutters and so on, just to check the focus on the camera and the ability of the Super-Omegon lens.
No problems there . . just a slightly 'off' vertical which again is no good to me. I can correct in the darkroom should I wish to print such a dull photograph!

*

9

Photo 9:
Further along and as I approached this guy from the other direction I was so taken by his air of melancholy that I was desperate to just approach him and ask if I could take a picture of his sad face, but I didn't (coward) and moved past to stand and browse a shop window beyond him. From there it was terribly easy to guess focus, and point the Koni in his direction and snap. Hence the squintness. He still looks pretty sad, and I've never seen a single customer in his newly-opened mini-mart.

*

10

Photo 10:
And the last in line as it were. The couple approaching looked to me like something out of a Gary Winogrand picture, but, lacking his balls and talent I opted to make a photograph of them by holding the Koni at waist level and pretending to check it. Of course I guessed focus too. At the very last second the baldy guy staggered into my path out of Mennies.
It was literally as I was operating the shutter. Yes it is squint, yes it is shite, but it is amazing that you can use a camera the size of one and a half housebricks in the street like this!

*

There y'go - I've cropped it just to get an idea of what it would look like . . it has gone from squinty snap to instant threat (I think).

Anyway, surprised it was all over so quickly and operating the push/pull film advance mechanism on the Koni, I strode off, determined that I would process these the way Mr.Gibson would!

20 minutes later, film loaded in Paterson tank, all accoutrements beside me at the kitchen sink, I cousulted my notes:

10cc of Rodinal for every film used.

Dilution of 1 + 25.

Temperature 68° Farenheit.

Agitation for 10 seconds every one-and-a-half minutes

Total development time 11 minutes.

Ok, so seeing as I was using a large Paterson tank my ratios of developer to water were 19.23ml Rodinal + 480ml water. Everything else was the same as above. Agitation (the most under appreciated part of film developing) was a gentle 10 seconds (roughly 4 inversions) at 1 minute 30 second intervals, so Zero seconds, then 1 minute 30 seconds/3 minutes/4 minutes 30 seconds/ 6 /7:30 / 9 / 10:30, and then chuck the developer at 11 minutes.
I will also preface this with the fact that I always use a water bath pre-development. A lot of people don't, but I find it lends itself to more even developing, so that was 3 or 4 changes of water at 68° Farenheit with gentle agitation.
All was safely gathered in, processing went fine, drying went fine, and a contact was made and assessed.
One of the frames was without a doubt the clear winner, so I printed it.
I thought I would go the whole hog and 'do a Gibson', so I printed it at Grade 5!



I've Been Fired

I used Kentmere Fine Print VC Fibre paper, developer was my usual Kodak Polymax. It is actually a superb paper and even for the likes of a Grade 5 print, exposure times are very fast. The lens was the 100mm Vivitar VHE at f16, which is a great lens - amazing to think that a month ago it was sitting unloved in its box, growing fungus.

What can't be ascertained from the scan is the print's luminosity. That is something that is quite hard to define and achieve, but is definitely a by-product of negative density. You don't read that much, but the more I have printed the more I realise it to be so. It is a conclusion I originally saw expounded by the American photographer Steve Mulligan, and I agree with him.

This was the densest negative on the roll.

It is very much me.!

And just to show you how well the combination of film and developer work, here's a sectional enlargement. The above print is an 8x10". 

The section below means the print would stretch beyond the 24-odd inches of the DeVere's baseboard. That's a big print.

Sharpened slightly just to empahasise the grain,
which isn't nearly as huge as I was expecting.
The detail is surprising isn't it, especially when you consider I wasn't  using a tripod.

Were you under the impression that a strong solution of Rodinal was grainy? That is the received wisdom isn't it . . . 

Can I stretch to a Part 3 where I have used 35mm TMX 400?

It's possible actually, because I did so last weekend!
So where has this got me? Was it all pointless?
Well, no.
I might not have achieved the Über-Density of a Ralph Gibson negative, but I have achieved a tonality, in the finished print, which I am delighted with.
I have also been surprised, so much so that I intend to use up the Rodinal I have left - I am particularly looking forward to trying it with some TMX 100 5x4 film. I'll also use it in the future at varying dilutions like I used to. I know the agreed sensible route is to stick to one film and developer combo, but you know what, life's too short. It is fun swapping things around - it makes an interesting hobby even more interesting.

And that's it, as they say at the end of all the best cartoons "Tha-tha-tha-that's all folks!"

I hope you've enjoyed this - if you've got any queries feel free to use the comments box and I'll answer to the best of my ability.

As usual, take care, God bless and thanks for reading.
Oh and if you've read this far, you'll maybe not realise that there is a PART THREE - no one seems to have read it - you can find it HERE

Thanks Ralph!

Say Cheese! It's Leica Time.

Hoo Har, scuse me maties.
The spitoons are fairly o'er flowin' with the gobbings of a chesty crew.
Oh yes mates, we got the lurgy real bad. Something to do with pullin' into Liverpool and too much Brain's Bitter in them pubs, and then some rather dodgy kebabs on the way back aboard. Then Sheephouse appears, having visited his Aunt in Chester and brought us back something rather nasty in the form of the worst cold we's ever had.
The riggin' was slippery with cloughers, the decks awash and truly awful.
It's been a nasty week no doubt about it - we even had to use up Mog's collection of small bear costumes to deal with the sputum . . very very nasty indeed. They solidified fairly quickly and got chucked overboard as we were leeward of the fair town of Morecambe.
Ambergris?
My arse.

***

Well it's a cold Tuesday morning here below decks and as usual, I could think of nothing to write. All I had in my head is an image I made on Saturday, which I have rather taken a liking to. It isn't in focus, there's a twisty camera shake to it, it doesn't even look like a 'proper' photograph, however I do know that I will print it to my best ability and keep it with my other prints.

How did I take it? Well, this article is either going to be about surreptitious photography or, probably more likely, an anatomy of a trip out with my camera. It'll probably be the latter, though I have to warn you in advance, the scans of the negatives are shite, courtesy of my Epson V300 scanner. It is fine for certain things, but for film not so good. And I'll add to that, that I only made the photographs last Saturday (the 26th of January) and have only made a contact print so far.
I'll also not bore you with the jetsam but I will go through the contact print and present the larger images . . . so here goes . . got your hard hat ready?

Regular FBers (there are such people . . what a strange bunch!) will know that in recent times I have had a dalliance with Leicas - it just seemed like a good thing to do at the time.
I really saved up for one, at not a small amount of difficulty, and then had to send it back (Leica Sniff Test) which made me sad as I had really enjoyed using it.
So I scrimped even further and added some more money and bought a 1960 Leica M2.
Now I will state this here and now, undoubtedly they seem to be regarded as rich boy's playthings, however don't knock 'em till you have handled one. I have used a lot of cameras over the years, but I have never used one which was so beautiful to handle.
Yes mine is what they term a 'user' - it has been well-used over the years, but the rangefinder is accurate and the viewfinder is relatively clean.
The film advance is like nothing you have ever tried - my Nikons are smooth, but this is like mechanical butter. It actually is a joy to use and considering it is a tad older than me, I think, pretty remarkable.
To put it into perspective, it was made before Vietnam, before Kennedy's assassination, before the Beatles changed the world, before Psycho became a benchmark . . . and it hit the world running.
It was a not inconsiderable investment by someone at the time, and it has been used, a lot.
It hasn't been treated the way Leica collectors seem to do things by putting their precious investments away in cotton wool, nope, internally, parts of the film advance are worn away to their brass. It has a few scratches. it has a slightly wheezy 1/15th of a second, but when I use it, it feels like an extension of my hand and eye. And to be honest, if you are a photographer, that is surely all you could want.
Those craftsman in Wetzlar who made my M2 were the real deal.
It is in fact so well put together that to my strange and romantic mind, it seems to have transcended it's highly machined physicality to become something other.
Can machines have a soul?
Yes, I truly believe some of them can.
I have been tempted to return it to the vendor and say "Oi, why is the shutter wheezy like that, when you said the shutter was serviced?" but to be honest I have already become attached to it.
I would dearly love someone from Leica to read this and say, "Come on then, send it to us at Solms and we'll give it a going over . ." and restore this amateurs instrument of joy back to its former glory . . . but dream on Sheephouse, it isn't going to happen.

Anyway, onwards.
The camera as stated is a 1960 Leica M2.
Lens is a 1934 Leica 50mm f3.5 uncoated Elmar, fitted with a FISON lens hood. The lens and hood predate the Second World War . . that too is incredible.
Film was Kodak Tri-X, which I rated at roughly EI 320.
The thing with using the camera the way I am going to describe is that film speed is a nominal, relative thing. I take a meter reading before I go out, and then adjust from there. As you'll see from the contact print, it doesn't always work, but then the overexposed images are still useable. You just have to up the exposure when you are printing . . simple.
Film latitude is a thing that not many people bother with. But certainly if you are using black and white, then you will have enough to deal with a huge range of lighting conditions.
It is all very flexible.
I used to meter everything, but have moved through all that in 35mm work to realise that roughly anything you take will be ok, so long as you follow the one cardinal rule:

Do not underexpose!

Overexposure is fine. Even that dread combination Overexposure and Overdevelopment is fine . .

One of my heroes is Ralph Gibson.
I never knew photograph could be so lyrical until I sat down one day and looked at his essay 'The Somnambulist' . . suddenly a large number of cogs moved together, like a smooth-working Leica advance, and I knew that I could make a photo essay.
I haven't yet, however I am getting there . . there's more than enough images to be gone over.
The key is, that for me it isn't a deliberate journey. I have a lot of similar images that will serve each other.
Anyway, I am digressing again - Mr.Gibson's key thing is that he deliberately Overexposes and Overdevelops!
It's mad.
It is so against what you are supposed to do, that it is like heresy, and yet, there is a lyrical intensity to his images. They are like a waking dream. They are all his own.
He said that he only discovered he could do this when he was watching a lithographer ink up some plates for the first publication of The Somnambulist. The extra ink created rich deep blacks, and it hit him that he could use broad expanses of black against highlights and get to where he wanted to go.
Whilst I might emulate his approach, I am not copying him, so you won't find anything like the depth of what he does . . but then, I am just me.
Anyway, intention set, camera loaded, my little key turning on my back . . off I went!
Two sessions/walks.

Film developed later in the afternoon.
Developer was Kodak HC 110, Dilution B at 20 degrees Centigrade.
I used a very small tank, so it was 9ml developer to 298ml water. Agitation was constant and gentle for 30 seconds, then I did 4 inversions every 30 seconds, halted at 7 minutes and poured developer out at 7 minutes 30 seconds.
A lot of people would say that I have overdeveloped this film, however to that I will add that everyone is different.
In my case, because of the extreme lack of contrast from the Elmar (due to its age and being uncoated) I felt that developing for longer would be the way to go to gain extra contrast and accutance.

Anyway, Tri-X and HC 110 is a classic combination - I like it, and to be honest looking at the lack of fog on the film base, I think the time is just about right actually!

Right, here goes.

Don't panic!
Contact prints of a film invariably look rubbish.
This is because there is just too much going on and your eye can't settle on anything.
Ilford Multigrade RC, Kodak Polymax, Agfa Ag Fix.

This is my contact print and as you can see, I have slightly underexposed the print.

The key thing with contact prints is to use the old maxim 'Minimum Time For Maximum Black' (MTFMB), basically meaning that when the unexposed edges of the film are indistinguishable from the exposed black density of the paper, you have exactly what you have shot.
Obviously film does develop some fog when it is being developed, however it is something you don't really have to worry about.
Try and get that film edge indistinguishable from the density of the paper. MTFMB is a useful base point and means you can read your negatives on the contact print, relative to something.
You don't get this frame of reference with scanning negative strips.
As you can see from my contact print, some of the frames are a tad underexposed and some are overexposed, however given that I haven't given the print enough exposure, then you can see that the overexposed frames will print down slightly more.

I wanted to try something with my lens on this journey, and that was to keep a set aperture and vary exposure by using shutter speeds, which is what I did. I tended to keep the f-stop at f9 (it's an old lens - and doesn't adhere to modern settings). The only frame I didn't do this on was number 16 which was approximately the equivalent of f5.6.

It was a cold morning - the snow from the day before had frozen, and there was plenty of condensation in the  shop windows, hence my first two frames. From there, I wandered up to one of the old University buildings (which is a waste of a huge building . . it is totally unused!) and from there, dondered along the back of the Wellcome Foundation building on the Hawkhill and down by the side of Duncan Of Jordanstone. From there, it was back up the Perth Road and the famous Tartan Cafe and back to the car.

Afternoon, was park opposite Tescos at Riverside and  walk along the river, skirt the Discovery, go along the back of the Leisure Centre to the Tay Bridge and then walk back.

You have to be receptive on trips like this. I view it as sort of like 'I have film loaded and I want to use it all - so let's see what we can see'. There is no set agenda as to what I will make images of. It is all down to what catches your eye at the time, and that can vary depending on your frame of mind, energy levels etc. It really is a voyage of discovery and one of the great pleasures in life. Photographing isn't the dark art a lot of pseuds would have you believe. Getting what you have on film into something you can use, is a semi-dark art/craft, but one that can be learned by anyone. I feel that I am at a stage now where making images is as natural as breathing. I have done a Joe Pass - 'Learn it all, and then forget it all.'

I have decided to limit this to 8 images as I don't want to bore you too much. This is after all all about me, and for some reason you are reading it . . .

Right, here goes:

Frame 2

Well, it was, as I have explained a very cold morning, so here I was confronted with a lovely flower shop, but, the condensation was such that you couldn't see anything. To be honest this would have worked better in colour as they were all muted and covered in whitey-grey condensation droplets. It caught my eye, I was aware of only having around forty minutes, so I made this by focusing on the droplets and as is often the case with my window pictures I am in there too! 

Frame 4

Then it was up to the Hawkhill via the lane at the side of the Tartan Cafe. This passes that disused University building I was talking about. It has become a bit of a magnet for graffiti, however and strangely, a lot of the graffiti is in chalk, so I am assuming that the artists are Art students from the nearby DOJ. 

This photo is unusual in that the grafitti is in spray paint. It could be by skaters as they use the vast expanses of concrete around the building. The interesting thing about it though is that it shows what happens when you use an uncoated lens into bright light. The shadows take on this flare of light and are almost contrastless. It is a nice effect, but relatively uncontrollable.

Frame 13

Moving on, I went round the back of the Wellcome building making another 8 pictures and headed back down to the Perth Road. 

This inspiring lump of concrete is actually the 'new' Crawford building of Duncan Of Jordanstone. The lower windows are the library. 

I like the way that the Elmar has made this look like it is a photo of the Bauhaus! Though, again the scanner has not managed to scan the full frame, so my verticals are terribly iffy.

The light was very beautiful, but I was even more aware I was running out of time . . .

Frame 18

They really ought to employ some window cleaners though . . . again the Crawford Building. 

I have cropped this, because the ****in scanner cannot scan a complete full frame. In my negative the verticals are correct . . in the scan they aren't . .so crop it was.

What attracted my eye, was the incredible brightness and that scuff in the lower part of the picture.

"Ooo aaar . . round these parts they be callin' that a waste of film . . ." 

Anyway, although that didn't actually conclude the pictures I made, it was frame 17.
I made another three and then headed for the car.
Yum yum . . lunch.
Boo boo . . housework.
Vroom vroom . . Dad taxi.
Happy happy . . Leica time.

Frame 27

It was incredibly icy down by the Tay, but the light was quite bright and some watery clouds were advancing and threatening more snow.

Again, another picture with me in though I am not nearly as svelt as that. 

Again I have had to crop very slightly because of the scanner. Incredible to make such allowances to infallible technology!

This is the back of the soon to be extinct Hilton Hotel . . it looks like a Victory V from the other side. The river side though is fortunate to have this incredible vista. 

What you can see is Fife and the Tay Road bridge. There's also a massive anchor stuck there too . . just to remind you of the area's heritage.

Frame 28

Well just to prove this is a city with its various bunches of nutters, further along by the Hilton's gym window, I discovered an area where someone had had a go at smashing what is fairly obviously safety glass. They hadn't suceeded and the crack was covered in film - hence the above. 

I rather like it as it reminds me of Minor White and some of the American photographers of the 1950's and 60's. It almost makes me want to go back with the 5x4 camera and do it as a large negative.

Frame 32

I have cheated a bit with this. I don't know why but I must have been listing when I took it as the vertical of the bridge on the left is ever so slightly squint. I can impart a bit of Gary Winogrand's wisdom here with regard to photographs. Try your best to keep the left vertical straight. The rest of the verticals in the picture and the horizontals can go to hell, but that left one has to be straight. It is sensible practice when you think about it, as we read from left to right, and visual disturbance on the initial scan will affect your whole view of the photo!

This photo also illustrates the beautiful drawing qualities of the old Elmar. 

Look at that glow from it - really lovely. 

This is under the Tay Bridge by the way - that staircase takes you up to the road level and I think it is a beautiful stair - it looks like a Mies van der Rohe two fingers to the Nazi's from 1933. Interesting to think that my lens was made one year (1934) after the Bauhaus was shut! That's that old heritage thing at work again.

Anyway . . onwards.

The following is a scan from the 1967 Edition of The Leica Book by Theo Kisselbach. It's a marvellous book and highly recommended for users of all film cameras.

It shows what I wanted to achieve.

If only photography was still like this.
The text describes very well how to go about achieving the 'walking snapshot'.

Unfortunately for me, my technique let me down!

Frame 37

When out photographing I try to adhere to my own adage .  . always keep one up the pipe. 

Meaning, save a frame for the final bit of the walk back to your starting point. I did, and there, coming towards me was the most extraordinarily shaggy and weird looking dog I have ever seen. 

I had to capture it, so I thought I would capitalise on the Leica's quietness, and do the walking snapshot:

I preset the focus to 3.5 metres and I could see from this that my depth of field at f9 would take me from 2.5 metres to just beyond 5 metres . . so plenty of leeway for things being in focus. I set the shutter to 1/60th and nonchalantly wandered towards the dog and its owner with my camera on its strap around my neck. I thought I could angle the camera down and capture it that way. Snick and it would be done. 

Well, I did all that. 

The camera was almost silent, the lens was smooth to focus, but I didn't figure for the fact I would be so shite at it. 

Hence the above photograph. 

Dog missed. 

However of all the photographs I made on that cold Saturday, it is the one I like the most.

So there you go, the last photograph of the day and my favourite!

You know reading this week's blog, it is sort of a paean to Leicas. 

I still find it hard to believe that I am regularly using a lens that is 78 years old . . and it isn't junky . . it is beautiful and jam-packed full of character. I also find it hard to believe that a camera made before I was born could handle in such a way that it is as natural as breathing. It's a testimony to craftsmanship and design and fine engineering.

I would also state that my little visual expeditions are always done in the spirit of the man who taught me - Mr.Joseph McKenzie. He always urged us to go out and make photographs of anything that caught our eye. And that's what I do.

Well as usual, God bless and thanks for reading.

Sometimes You Eat The Bear (Anatomy Of A Printing Session)

Har Har me Hearties - what a week it has been.
Mog's new-found talking ability has proved itself rather amusing, particularly now that some of the lads have been teachin' him to swear. Not only that, but he's become a gifted impersonator; and I would say now aboard the Good Shippe FB, you cannot reliably rely on anything you hear, especially when you can't see the person that is talking.
We also had a rather amusing time with Mr.Sheephouse.
I don't know where he got them from, but my second mate got a haul of very small bear costumes. I presume these were intended for some sort of children's activity in the Russias (as that is where they were bound before he purloined them), anyway, a bit of snipping and sewing and before you know it we had a cat-sized bear outfit.
It was très amusing to see Mog wandering around like a small cub pretending to be tough.
It was even more amusing when we locked him down below with Sheephouse in his room of dark arcanery. Oh yes, much was the swearing that came out o' that room with us all gathered outside the door sniggering away.
To be truthful, it was almost impossible to tell who's voice was who's.
I think Mog learned more swear words that day than he would in a whole month o' bein' below decks.
That cat, he's got Sheephouse down to a T.

***

I love printing photographs - I've said it before and I'll say it again - it is entirely half of my photographic life and one which these days seems to be largely ignored by the majority of photographers . . .but that's another soapbox.

It was Sunday and it was sleety/rainy. I had been wanting to take my Wista out, but the thought of those lovely silk-lined bellows in the rain isn't very appealing . .neither is the thick dew of condensation on a groundglass on days like this .  . so printing it was. I started at 11AM and finished at 3.30PM with a 20 minute break for lunch.

Negatives were all made with my nice old 50mm Elmar, however there were a couple of variables. Firstly the camera. My initial bunch were made on the IIIf which I sent back. The second lot were made on an M2 which I haven't sent back (though it does have a 1/15th sneeze). What I haven't seen written before is that the film gates of both cameras are different! The IIIf is exactly 37mm x 24mm; the M2 is the standard 36mm x 24mm . . . strange but true. This caused some confusion halfway through the session, but it was sorted quickly. The other variables were film (Ilford Delta 400 and Kodak TMX 400) and dilutions of Kodak HC 110 developer (Dilutions G and B). The final variable if you can call it that was a Leitz FISON lens hood I bought to protect the Elmar (more about this in a later blog).

Anyway, as the title of this blog implies . . sometimes things go right, and sometimes they don't. Today I had a number of bad things happen, but managed to make some prints I am more than happy with. I count it a good session if I can make 6 to 8 prints, and if say 3 of those are useable as proper archive prints then all the better.

The Maw Of Hell

Could Have Done With A Tidy-Up

The DeVere just fits

Wet Area (and sensibly placed 'Dry' cabinet)

Emergency Supplies.
The trays are on the floor to catch drips from the current printing session's drying prints - normally they aren't there.

Prints Drying.

As you can see, my darkroom is extremely primitive. It is an old butler's cupboard under a stair - it does have quite a high ceiling at one side, and does have the advantage of a stone flagged floor, which is fine for spillages of chemicals and also keeps beer at near perfect pub temperature! 

My enlarger is a DeVere 504 Dichromat - you can see it mounted on an old kitchen cabinet which is on its side - I have to print on my knees - I call it supplication to the Gods Of Printing.

All my wet processing is done in trays on newspapers on those shelves to the right - they are 9 inches deep - just enough for a tray.

The old hifi cabinet underneath is my dry area - all paper is stored in there, and there is an old Restem paper safe on a shelf too.

Yes that is a wine rack! The green towel is my door jamb for when I am processing LF film - basically it is a towel rolled up, with cable ties holding it in a roll and goes up against a large gap under the cupboard door.

There's no running water, so prints get popped into my Paterson washer until the end.

The prints are hanging from an old indoors washing line that came with the house!

They say that necessity is the mother of invention - in my case it has been poverty - I scrimped this lot together over years and would love to have a 'proper' darkroom with all mod cons.

For all its primitiveness, I can print to exhibition standards, and I am not bumming myself up there. I care about my prints.

They are carefully made and of a high quality. The only thing I lack is a dry mounting press ( and seriously if you have one you don't want, let me know!)
Actually, I am sure that any of us making prints the old-fashioned way these days, and willing to invest the time and money into learning printing, are good enough at what we do to make them to exhibition standard.

The lens was a nice old (Pentax made) 50mm f2.8 Durst Neonon, which I kept at f5.6 for the entire session. Chemicals were Kodak Polymax developer, Kodak stop bath, and home-made plain fix, which I used as a double bath. I have run out of selenium or else I would have toned them. They were washed for a couple of hours in my creaky old Paterson Archival Washer. Seeing as the plain fix is essentially an alkali fix, washing is a lot shorter than for acid fixers, and also I don't need to use hypo-clear.
Oh and I don't split grade print - I never found it of use to my practice, but again that's just me.

I was going to use my old favourite of Ilford Galerie, however because half the negatives were developed in HC 110 Dilution G and are (because of the fact that the Elmar is ancient and uncoated) very low in contrast, I chose to use some Adox Vario Classic fibre-based which I had kicking around. It is a very nice paper - the only things I don't like about it are its gloss, which isn't as rich as it could be, and the fact it will cockle around the edges when air-dried.

To be honest I am not a fan of resin-coated paper - I don't know, there's just something about the image quality, which, to be honest doesn't quite have the sharpness of a good fibre print. Anyway, that's just me. Fibre takes longer to print and is more fussy of correct fixing, but I feel the effort to be worth it.

Anyway, time to strap your helmet on and join me in the cavalcade of laughter, triumph and tears!

First up is an image I rather like - it is hard to tell what is going on, but you know the place is 'Open'.

Being none too familiar with the Adox paper I felt it best to sacrifice a sheet to the God Of Test Strips. I don't always make them, but sometimes, and especially when you are using a new camera/film/developer combo, they are handy as they help to get your eye use to the paper's properties and how your negative will look printed . . often never how you imagine it to be! I can usually get about 12 smaller strips out of one sheet of 8x10" paper - I know the general idea is to make a large strip, but to be honest, I would rather preserve the paper, so small strips it is.
The long lamented greatest paper ever was Forte, and they actually provided you with some test strips pre-cut, which I thought was very nice. But alas nobody thinks like that anymore, so you have to waste a sheet . .

Bear in mind that a box of 100 sheets of fibre-based  8x10" paper is approximately £70+ these days and you have 70p down the swanny just like that . . .

I set up my easel, got the image placement right, focused, stopped down and made a test. This was developed, and I came to my decision of exposure time. I then checked the focus again, and made the exposure. (By the way, if you made the test strip in say four second segments, you need to expose your print in four second segments, not for the whole exposure all at once. This is because the intermittency effect will come in and effectively give you a greater exposure and hence a darker print.)

Oh and I am assuming from this that you might have made some prints, and therefore don't need the very basics going over . . .

Also I will pre-empt everything by saying ignore the ripple effect on the scans! This is because the prints have dried cockled (anyone got a dry mounting press they don't want???) and I have scanned them warts and all. Secondly, I wanted to include little thumbnails of test strips, but Blogger software is hopeless when it comes to aligning pictures, so I gave up.

Anyway, warts and all, here it is.

Print 1 - Adox Vario Classic - Grade 4.
Leica IIIf, 50mm Uncoated Elmar, Ilford Delta 400, HC110 Dilution G.

I like the print I made here - it works and is a bit mysterious and dreamy . . though, judging it afterward, there were two white speck marks, so I obviously didn't clean the negative as well as I should have. Also, notice the presence of the bear in the way that the margin on the right hand side is smaller than the left . . yep, forgot to check that one!

Selenium would bring up the blacks beautifully, so I should get some more . . nearly £25 a bottle though . . . but at least if you do decide you want to tone a print, you can go back, soak the print and follow a correct toning sequence . . very handy.

Anyway, onwards, I corrected the margin, gave the bear a kick and continued.

Whilst I had the same sheet of negatives out, I thought I would print the following. I made a test, and judged the exposure.

Print 2 - Adox Vario Classic - Grade 3.
Leica IIIf, 50mm Uncoated Elmar, Ilford Delta 400, HC110 Dilution G.

And as you can see, the result is shite. The first of the day's mistakes. Contrast is poor,  exposure is poor, and here's the kicker, I must have not focused properly on the easel, because the image appears to be out of focus too. Och well, another 70p down the drain . . . .

A brief aside into focus finders:

I have 3! A Scoponet, a basic Peak and a Magnasight.

The Peak is my favourite, however it had fungus when I bought it, so I had to dismantle it, which necessitated a fair bit of plastic gouging . . and of course you can't reassemble from there, so it works of a fashion. Because I can't set it permanently, I have to constantly re-adjust, and the bear loves a good twiddle . . .

The Scoponet isn't a patch on the optical clarity of the Peak, but does in an emergency (I used it for years).

The Magnasight I bought new from the States and have used it about twice, because I just couldn't get on with it .  . anyone want to buy it??

Back to the Session . . .

I was annoyed, and that isn't a good frame of mind to be in for printing, so I prepped my next negative. By the way, blowers? Anti-static guns? Nope, I run a 35mm negative through the fleshy parts of thumb and where it buts up against the index finger, or sometimes I'll run it between my index and middle finger.

It works.

I use a cobbled glass carrier in the DeVere (using Meopta 6x9 glass carriers taped to the DeVere's lower glass carrier), and any dust that falls on there gets swiped off with the back of my hand. I used to use an anti-static brush, but I find this method a whole lot more less problematical.

I made a test strip and decided to up the contrast a bit and judged the exposure roughly based on that. The Adox paper offers remarkably similar exposure times for different grades, which is a nice quality.

Unfortunately for me, I didn't see that the bear was getting ready to lend a helping hand again.

Disaster Strikes!
Print 3 - Adox Vario Classic - Grade 3.
Leica IIIf, 50mm Uncoated Elmar, Ilford Delta 400, HC110 Dilution G.

Nice print, nice contrast, but look - it is squint! My excuse (another one) - my ancient and battered Beard easel has little alumininium strips which act as stops for the paper you are about to expose. Unfortunately, the design is such that paper can slip underneath them all too easily, which is what happened here. Moral of the story, check and double check everything . . even something as basic as fitting a piece of paper into an easel.

Being annoyed by the presence of the bear, I looked at the print again and decided that my contrast wasn't enough, so I went the whole hog and dialled in a mighty 200 units of Magenta (effectively a Grade 4+) and made another print.

Print 4 - Adox Vario Classic - Grade 4+ (200 Magenta)
Leica IIIf, 50mm Uncoated Elmar, Ilford Delta 400, HC110 Dilution G.

Ah, that's better.

I asked the bear to leave quietly and he did.

Calm returned and I could get on with my worship.

My next negative showed me the importance of ignoring what a scanned negative looks like. Scanning negatives is a nasty habit I have got into in recent years, and you know what - it is a hopeless way of judging what you have made. In my scan, the verticals are converging (slightly, but enough to make me think I shouldn't bother printing the negative - "Wot's that Doctor? Ee's got Convergin Verticals? Wot's 'at mean then? My poor son!"). However, I liked the image and thought I could correct the verticals by using tilt on the DeVere's focus stage, so I got a surprise when I looked at it on the baseboard and realised the verticals are correct and straight . . just the way I composed it!

Print 5 - Adox Vario Classic - Grade 3
Leica M2, 50mm Uncoated Elmar, FISON Hood, Kodak TMY 400, HC110 Dilution B.

The picture is of a hoarding outside a newsagents and is, how shall I say, a little 'Welcome to Dundee' for the V&A.

Yes that grey stuff is I don't know what, but it's pretty ghastly!

It is very typical of this lovely city of mine - on one hand you have knowledge and study and the arts, and on the other you have sublime ignorance and stupidity. Pretty much like any city really.

David' Bailey's picture of Twiggy is a great one, made all the merrier by a smear of 'stuff'.

The print turned out well I felt. The negative brought in the two extra variuables of the FISON hood and Dilution B.

Had I had more time, I would have done some selective bleaching of the white stuff with Ferricyanide, but I didn't . . maybe later.

I was feeling pretty good now - printing is supposed to be a pleasurable activity, but I fully understand how people can become frustrated and disillusioned.

Like anything good, effort is required, along with care and checking at every stage.

Feeling semi-triumphant and conscious of the clock, I thought I would round everything off with a strange image.

It was strange when I took it - I gambled on the camera exposure but got it right and the negative is dense enough for me to print at pretty much any tonality, which is great!

Print 6 - Adox Vario Classic - Grade 3.
Leica M2, 50mm Uncoated Elmar, FISON Hood, Kodak TMY 400, HC110 Dilution B. 

I printed this at Grade 3 just to boost the lower contrast of the Elmar, and I feel with the print I misjudged it and gave it a tad too much exposure. I would prefer a lighter tonality . . maybe next time.

It isn't a fine print, but it is a starting point.

And that's pretty much it actually. I would say it was a semi-successful session. Very enjoyable all the same.

The prints were washed for a couple of hours and then pegged back to back for an overnight air dry. I then flatten them between some heavy books and file away the ones I like best.

One thing . . on my last print, despite my feeling of triumph, the bear must have accompanied me whilst I was out photographing, as there is a small black mark at the top - obviously a bit of material like a fibre. This must be in the camera (it was . . I found it!), as it is black on the print and thus in permanence on the negative. Fortunately I have a Swann and Morton Number 15 scalpel blade and managed to gently 'knife' it out whilst the print was still wet. Yes it leaves a mark in the gloss finish, but you can sometimes touch that up carefully with spotting dye. At the end of the day, I have a few prints I am happy with and have filed away.

Sometimes you eat him. Sometimes, he eats you.

Printing is a dying craft (unfortunately) - I will continue to enjoy it until they no longer manufacture paper . . and I don't know what I'll do then . .

As usual, thanks for reading and God bless.

***

If you are interested, some of my personal recommendations for self-teaching materials:

I have read rather a lot of printing books over the years, and whilst I have enjoyed the likes of the more modern favourites like Rudman's 'Master Printing Course', and Ephraum's 'Creative Elements', I am going to come out and say the flat-out best printing book around is Ansel Adam's 'The Print'. It repays repeated reading. It is a masterwork, and it will teach you more than you really need to know. I will follow this with the late-lamented Barry Thornton's two books, 'Edge Of Darkness' and 'Elements'. 'Elements' has been out of print for a number of years but is now available as an e-book.
John Blakemore's 'Black and White Photography Workshop' is a masterclass in all aspects of monochrome photography with particular attention applied to the aesthetic aspects of print-making you don't find anywhere else.
My final recommendations were published by Ralph Gibson's Lustrum Press. They are called 'Darkroom', and 'Darkroom 2'. Both essential reading for the sheer breadth of practice by the contributing printers.
Ground yourself in these and you will be producing prints you are proud of in no time at all.
I would also be remiss not to mention Joseph McKenzie and his redoubtable technician Sandy, who taught me photography and printing at Duncan of Jordanstone College of Art in the 1980's . . . you can't put a price on such a great grounding.