Occam's Razor (ish)

Morning folks - well I got there eventually - sorry for any tardiness in publishing, but sometimes, well sometimes you're busy.

Anyway Spring is a Springin'!

Mornings are getting lighter and every photographer worth his salt should be getting out from under that thiosulphate-stained quilt and heading out with some fresh film and an attitude!

Attitude?

Oh yeah.

You've got to get moving!

Over the latter Winter months this year, I photographed seriously around (on average) three times a week. Now that's a lot for me, but it was good from the point of view that it helped sharpen my compositional viewpoint and instilled in me a realisation that I am really not getting any younger, and any day lost, is one less day of light.

Oh what a yawn dahling, what a lazy use of English.

It is true though, because it is the light that defines us.

It's easy for me to write that this morning, when the sun is up, but it is still brisk outside, but trust me, the light 'round these parts has run the gamut from utter pish through to heavenly. 

Overcast ghastliness and liquid silver; chucking rain; hard, low Winter sun; calf-length snow and bitter winds - I did them all.

It's been fun though; intensive and hard, and I discovered I rather like photographing buildings. 

I've done the found objects to death, so concrete stone, glass and steel it was. 

But rather than boringly detail each and every building I thought I'd get this melange of photos together and  show you what I did with relatively simple (albeit exquisite) equipment.

Oh, and why Occam's Razor? 

Well its underlying principle is that the simplest explanation is often the most correct. 

Not only that but I like the expression!

Photographically, I think there's way too much guff spoken about photography, both in the execution and also in the production of an end product. 

For instance, regular readers will know I have a total aversion to split-grade printing as I think it may possibly be useful, but on the whole feel it is far too footery for my ends. 

In the darkroom, and paraphrasing my old mentor Joseph McKenzie, simple is best.

I also re-read some of Fred Picker's Zone System Manual recently and oh boy, no disservice to Mr. Picker, but it really makes you want to put your lens cap on. 

Well it does me, even though there's plenty of useful stuff in there, the sheer complexity and footeriness really is enough to send one running.

So, simple is the by-word and without further ado, here's the pics!

Wall

Extreme dullness in the extreme, the above has something about it I like. I think it is the off-kilter banding from a mixture of pillar shadow and low sun.

This was made with a newly acquired, super-cheap 250mm CF Sonnar. It's got a couple of cosmetic issues but is a fine lens. As sharp wide open as it is stopped down, it has made me reconsider viewpoints. 

It was taken on HP5 rated at 200, processed in Pyrocat-HD and printed on Grade 3 Ilford MGRC.

1960's Concrete Brutalist

D'amore of a D'asame, as me old mate Sting used to say. 

Sonnar 250, HP5, Pyrocat and MGRC.

There's something gruesomely beautiful about the 'new' building at Duncan Of Jordanstone.

I think there's an air of Cold War stoicism about it.

Dundee has actually modelled for Russia in TV and film a few times - weird eh!

Progress

Back in the 60's the old Hawkhill was a mix of cottages, lanes, tenements and mills. It had character in spades and was torn down in the name of progress. 

When i arrived here, the last of the Hawkhill was condemned buildings, small shops hanging on by the skin of their teeth, and major works.

A great shame.

The modern thing in the background is part of the Life Science Centre and is a world leader in all things, er, life sciency.

Tree And Wall

There's something about the juxtaposition of tree, shadow and wall that I really like.

The sun was low and hard and weirdly I was wielding Ilford's SFX with a deep red filter. EI was 6!

The lens was a CF 150mm Sonnar. Hasselblad's cheapest secondhand lens on average and a sterling performer at all apertures.

It was processed in Pyrocat and printed on Ilford MGRC again.

I use the RC to make work prints, which I'll turn into 'proper' prints on fibre paper when I get the time.

Making work prints this way on 5x7" paper is a quick and easy way of working that doesn't cost a fortune.

Again the old simple is best epithet applies.

Occam's Razor!

Winter

Yeah I know you Pickerites, there's no texture in the snow. 

Well actually you're wrong - there is, but this was just a quick print to assess things, so I shall burn the snow in slightly when I print it properly.

The snow is actually quite gungey and ugly from slush - maybe it's better pure white?

Film was HP5 in Pyrocat,  printed onto Grade 3 MGRC.

Lens was the 60mm Distagon - as fine a lens as anything you'll find. 

Zeiss recommended it for weddings, but I think it works brilliantly for landscape and 'tecture.

Future Dream

I haven't taken reflection photographs in a while, but I was so taken by this, that I had to take it. 

Sadly the double glazing has totally mucked up the quality of the reflection as it always does - bring back Victorian Plate Glass!

This was the 150mm Sonnar again and pretty much wide open.

Film is SFX and a deep red filter is in use.

Oh Yus . . .

The Hanged Man

Can you seen him? 

Me too, well I would wouldn't I because it was me. Not that I was hanging or anything . . .

This was taken about 2 weeks on from the last one - amazing the changes Winter will wrought. Snow was calf-deep in places, but I didn't let that stop me. 

The light is what I wanted to capture, but sadly it hasn't appeared here - maybe a better print would do it.

Lens was the 60mm Distagon.

It's a simple straight print on Grade 3 MGRC.

What If They Gave A Party And Nobody Came?

This was off the dreadfully under-developed roll of FP4. 

I now know my timings for next time so all is not lost and at least I hadn't walked 10 miles!

It's actually pretty underexposed too, but them's the breaks.

Camera was the SWC/M, and it was handheld at 1/15th at f8. 

It's very sharp.

The print was Grade 4 on MGRC - no need for split trousers or bleaching.

What The F?!

I really didn't realise I'd captured a Wild F, but I had. I just liked the shadows on the wall.

It was a tricky shot, me being on the ground and this being halfway up a fire escape.

I developed the film and lo and behold a Wild F!

Sadly the print is nothing like the contact print - could do better is what I'll say.

Lens was a Sonnar and Ilford SFX again.

Tunnel Of Weirdness

You know where dogs keep going back and peeing on the same wall?

Well . . . 

Though it doesn't look it, again this was the 150mm Sonnar with Ilford SFX.

I've tried to keep the composition as simple as possible, yet it's an enormously complex image.

Grade 3 print on MGRC.

Dead simple.

I.T.M.A.

Whilst technically not an architectural photo, I feel remiss for not including our old mate.

There's been many photographs of him since I discovered him, but this is one of my favourites, and I suppose that IS a building so I am excused a bit.

This was 1/15th at f8 with the 250mm Sonnar. 

I was a loooong way down the lane and it sort of shows what a long lens can do to space.

I actually like it very much.

Film was HP5 rated at EI 200 and developed in Pyrocat.

Print was a Grade 3 on MGRC just to snap things up a bit.

There was no wafting or wizard cloak involved in making the print: set grade, shove paper into easel, expose, develop. 

The whole thing was done in a few minutes.

Where Man Meets Nature

This isn't technically a 'simple' photograph as it is from the fogged and yucky roll of Bergger I detailed in the last FB, however it is a simple photograph.

Camera was the SWC/M, print was about Grade 5 on old Tetenal MGRC, which was already a very contrasty paper.

My nose was nearly touching that right hand wall!

Aliens At The V&A

The above is my absolute favourite. That marker post is so inutterably 'alien' that is sets the whole thing off.

It was taken on Ilford FP4 rated at EI 80 and developed in some really ancient HC110. 

Sadly the film is well under-developed simply because I couldn't get the right time. 

Times these days are all over the place - I think the assumption in all the literature out there is that you will be scanning the negative rather than actually projection printing them. 

Oh how the times (!) have changed.

I have to say, that I err on the side of Ralph Gibson and prefer a negative to be slightly on the cooked side - it gets you more meat and potatoes in a print. Not only that but a more developed negative is more easily correctable than an under-exposed or under-developed one. 

Oh and you might be wondering why I am talking like this - it's simply because I have nearly run out of Pyrocat, and am using anything and everything else I can find, and not only that, a change is as good as getting arrested.

Anyway, given the thinness of the above, I had to execute a swift side move. 

And what was that? 

Well, simple really, given the lack of snap in the negative I just printed it on Grade 4! 

It's a straight print apart from a wee bit of dodging to the out of focus beam at the top left.

That simple.

I really like the tonality.

It's weird really, FP4 is the most reasonable, consistent and reliable black and white film out there. I am stating that as a fact. Why waste your time testing films where the QC isn't a patch on the Mobberley Mob?

I am done with spending time composing, only to come back and develop something either flawed or inconsistent. I would use Kodak films too, because the quality control is impecable, but since they've decided to be so expensive, I'll no longer use them - shame.

Anyway, FP4 - its tonality can be wonderful. 

In my opinion, it is the pinnacle of monochrome tonality.

Photographically it couldn't have been simpler, albeit I was lucky with some really wonderful light and an eminently photogenic building.

The camera was my Hasselblad SWC/M and the photo was handheld, 1/15th of a second at f5.6.

As those bleedin' meercats used to say "Simples"!

And that's it really. 

Occam's Razor. 

Keep it simple.

I could probably have done the same with a Holga or the old Rollei T, or even the knackered Autocord . . . in fact that's a thought . . . . 

You really don't need bells and whistles to make images you are happy with.

There's an acronym: K.I.S.S.

Keep. It. Simple, Stupid.

I totally agree with that

Till next time, try it.

Unburden yourself from technicalities, sub-plots, menus, footeriness!

Go simple, and if you have a darkroom, get rid of all the stuff they tell you you have to have and have to use to get a result.

Use a single grade and your gut feelings about how the image should look, and have a go. 

You might well be surprised.

I guess what I am trying to say, is that at the end of the day, the final image is all that counts - if you can get there with the least possible number of complications, then that is all the better.

Why?

I don't really know actually, but probably backing it up is my old college conundrum whereby, given a problem to solve or a graphic to create, the more processes that went into the final thing, the more that thing was rendered null and void. 

Enthusiasm was sapped.

Energy drifted.

Creativity was stifled to the point of tedium, and at the end of the process, the initial thoughts and roughs seemed to be the ones that worked best.

Mies Van Der Rohe's epithet "Less Is More" rings true in so many situations, both literally and metaphorically.

Over and oot - beam me up Scotsman!

Kung Fu Rescue Job

Morning fiends, er friends. 

This morning I am going all glasshopper again, because I was severely let down by an errant roll of film over Christmas and would like to recount the whole sorry tale.

Why Kung Fu?

Ah, the good old 1970's!

Well, if you remember the program, David Carradine always seemed to pull off the impossible no matter the odds.

I felt myself to be in a similar situation when some interesting pictures (conjecture of course - that's my opinion!) were nearly rendered null and void by weirdness.

Despite its epithet as 'Scotland's Sunniest City', weather in Dundee can be overwhelmingly ghastly at times. 

We're shielded by the Grampians from the North and West; we don't poke out into the North Sea to suffer the same banks of fog and extremes that the likes of Fife does; we're too far South and not far enough North (and coastal!) to render most snowfall null and void. 

All in all we can be incredibly grey, and when we get The Grey, we get it in spades.

Into this mix add haar (a lovely Nordic term for cold river and sea water meeting warm air and thus creating banks of weird fog) and you've got a brew made in mad weather heaven. 

You can see haar building in the middle of the Tay; it can start as a whispy white mohican on the river and the next thing you know the whole town is blanketed in chilly mist. 

In the Summer it can be (dare I say it) pleasant, however in the Winter when it has been grey for days, that chill dampness gets into every single fibre of your body. 

I call it East Coast Raw and it really is.

On the other hand, the light on the Tay can be extraordinarily beautiful. 

It was enough to anchor Joseph McKenzie here for decades, and I can quite see why - he once described the light so beautifully to me that it is worth recounting it, albeit through the filter of decades passed. 

There's a liquid silvern quality to it that is at once ethereal and distancing; with the haze and moisture of the river, distance is extended; on clear, haze-free days, distance is compressed; daylight on the river can at times act like a reflector, and if that reflection is caught by cloud it is reflected back onto the city; it is like a solar North light that evens illumination.

That's the gist of it.

The light can manifest itself at most times of day too, but especially so on a cooler morning as the sun is just rising - lovely stuff and especially so if you're using a film that lends itself to subtle greys.

Despite all this potential, this past Winter has been something else - I do believe it has rained most weekends since the start of November. 

The Grey has cemented itself in. 

It has been pitch (nearly) going to work and the same coming home. 

A ghastly, enthusiasm-sapping wind has blown constantly from every direction and all at once and in most of a lifetime of living here I reckon it was probably the most overcast Winter I have ever experienced. 

On the plus side, it was less cold than usual.

So imagine my joy when the sun came out for a brief time a month or so back - oh boy, I was skipping like a lamb. 

Me and t'missus had a lovely walk, came home, had lunch, and then I stepped out to take some photos.

You know, I love taking pictures with the Hasselblad SWC/M for a couple of really simple reasons. 

Remember when you were young and your Dad let you use the Kodak Instamatic - all you had to do was set the zone focus and press that weird oblong shutter release - Click! 

And that was it until you collected the pictures from the chemists.

Wonderful.

Uncomplicated. 

The image was all there was - no technical footery.

Well, others might disagree, but the Hasselblad Super Wide is just a simple point and shoot, albeit with one of the best lenses ever made stuck on the front.

You load your film holder, attach to camera, remove darkslide, set aperture and speed, adjust focus, squint through weirdly comforting viewfinder and Click!

You know you'll have something (often something epic) and you don't need to worry about any deficiencies in the camera.  

Everything else is operator error.

So, there I was, ready to go and chancing some new and different film - Bergger Panchro 400!

I thought I'd give it a go, just in case. 

I halved box speed because that'll usually do it with most 400 films and set off with a supremely lightweight but high quality picture making maschine.

I was ready for everything.

Ah it was brilliant - Dundee Uni was empty - no students courtesy of CV, just myself and a few old ladies walking their dogs. 

Everywhere was hard, low sun and steep, deep shadow and whilst not intending to photograph buildings, their lines were so enhanced by the light that I couldn't not do it.

An hour and a half slipped by like it was nothing. 

I was really cold, but so fired by what I was seeing that the extreme chill was meaningless.

Have you ever got yourself into one of those Photographic Zen Zones?

It is very akin to when you are improvising music with other people, or when you are writing and the characters take a hold of you and won't let you stop till they're done. 

If you've never experienced either of these, trust me, the similarities are, er, very similar.

In a PZZ, you are led by your eyes. 

Everything looks like a potential scene.

I'll add an epithet to that though, everything can also look like a potential crime-scene if you aren't careful.

You have to exercise a modicum of restraint - it's easy to blaze away, so I have one simple phrase I say to myself:

Would I print that?

If the answer is NO! move on buddy. 

It works for me.

Anyway, back to our trip into madness . . .

I used a tripod pretty much the whole way, just 'cos I wanted the best sharpness I could get; also when you're eyeballing the bubble level on a SW, having it steady before you start footering is an added advantage. I had a brilliant time.

I was so thrilled by what I'd seen that I hoofed it home in double quick time, and because the film was an unknown, decided to use Pyrocat (simply because it has been the most consistent and reliable developer for every film I have ever developed with it.)

18 mins in the developer (yes I know); a couple in a water stop; 5 mins in semi-fresh fix and a couple of washes before I got my mitts onto it.

I was so excited!

And then . . .

GAAAAARRRRRGGGHHHHHH!

A cursory examination and the whole film appeared nearly black.

I initially thought the whole film was fogged, and I had no idea how that had happened.

Obviously I was expecting some stain with Pyrocat but this was well beyond my experience of it.

That's them all sleeved below with the LED equivalent of a 60 watt bulb shining behind them.

Not only is there edge fog, there's a general massive amount of base fog over the whole film. 

Allied to this, there's also what appears (at first) to be a scratch on the emulsion (yes, I spent about half an hour minutely going over my film back . . . there was nothing sharp): on even closer examination, the scratch was actually an exposed line within the emulsion itself.

I was absolutely FIZZING.

What a total waste of time and money . . . and I had another 4 rolls of the stuff!

Denser Than A Busload Of Denseness

After I'd calmed down a bit I decided to do a contact print (because I always do a contact print for reference) and it was even more ghastly than I'd thought.

My normal exposure time for PHD negs is 32 seconds at f22 on Grade 2.

This beauty took 56 seconds at f8 on GRADE 5. 

And yes I was using speed matching with the filters.

I think that shows you that it was a tad foggy.

More Fog Than A 1940's Peasouper

I know what you're going to say - you unloaded/loaded that in full sunlight. Not so. All done in subdued light, so put that in yer pipe and smoke it.

I would normally detail all the exposures here, but I'll not waste your time - there's no point.

I was about to exit the darkroom in a total mare, but something clicked in my head and I thought feck it - why not have a go at trying to get some prints?

It was pretty 'orrible and grey outside anyway, so why not?

I've had a few grim sessions in the darkroom in my life - most of them involving underexposed negatives and stupid mistakes.

Most of the underexposure on these is actually a result of the fog interfering with things, a bit like it does in John Carpenter's masterpiece! 

There's details in them thar dark bits, but youse can't see 'em boyo.

I also had to do something that is anathema to me - CROP A NEGATIVE!

I always print full frame - why? Because I prefer to have the scene set on the VF when I take the photo and not use a judicial after-the-event-eye on things. 

No doubt it is faulty thinking from me, but that's just me.

Anyway, it was a heck of a job.

I'll usually do prints on Grade 3 and around 15 secs at f22 - Pyrocat can make timing very consistent, and the DeVere's nuclear bulb makes short work of everything.

With these puppies I was anywhere between 15 and 30 seconds at f16 on Grade 5.

It took me a while to get to that point using test strips, but once I'd dialled it in, I whipped through them quite quickly.

I had to use Grade 5 to punch through the fog - it was the only solution as far as I could see, that would give me something look-at-able.

The paper was some of the last of my Tetenal RC - already a very contrasty paper on Grade 2, so believe me, it was contrasty! I am also now using First Call's soft pack paper developer too, which I think is a variation on the much missed Agfa Neutol. 

It is very good stuff indeed, and won't go off to the same extent, it being in a pouch (I wish I could say that about myself.)

Anyway, here they are in all their tawdry glory. 

I don't mind them at all actually, strangely; I thought I'd hate them. 

It's actually made me want to try printing things softer for a while and see what happens - obviously not with these though.

Most of my negatives are on the denser side of normal, so it might be an interesting experiment.

Oh and print size was 5x7" and the image size is 120mm.

I forgot to say that over Christmas a neighbour very kindly asked "Is this any use to you?" and promptly handed me a Leitz easel over the garden wall!

I reckon its 1950's and it is an ideal size for smaller pieces of paper. 

Anyway, I am using that and it gives me wonderfully thin borders - thinner than a Spiv's 'tache - and on these prints it is just a hair over 3mm.

I print the image on the shorter end of the paper, so there's a nice big holdable bit of white at the bottom.

Not only does it make for a tactile print that is both easy to store and refer to, it also slashes your paper costs!

Onwards glasshopper.

 

Gargh 1

Why not I thought, so I made like a duck with my fingers, but didn't actually realise I'd captured myself in all my grimacing glory. Sorry if I've broke your monitor.

There's a window around the corner from this that is so severely covered with guano, I reckon it is holding the whole building up.

Gargh 2

Dundee Uni's 'Security Centre' - at all times of day it is a faceless maw waiting to capture the unwary. 

In a way it reminds me of a Stasi headquarters - innocuous enough, but they're watching you.

The guano is exquisitely set - I reckon you'd need to take a chisel to it.

Gargh 3

At some point in time, someone thought it would be a good idea to plant these palms right next to a building. 

As you can see they've gone a bit mental and are now obscuring everything. 

This being said I like it - there's an air of mystery to it.

We've a surfeit of palms around the Uni for some reason - must be because we're 'Scotland's Sunniest City'!

Gargh 4

Yes I should have cropped more judiciously and aligned my verticals better. 

It is only slightly out, but it lends a feeling of disquiet to me and I find it visually disturbing. 

Gary Winogrand always said no matter how wide the lens, try and get the left vertical correct and everything else will follow, because we scan a print from left to right (whether consciously or not).

He's bang on.

Those trees are I believe lilacs and they're rather beautiful.

Gargh 5

I had great hopes for this one - it's a bunch of Yuccas squashing themselves against a window in a mad bid to escape. 

It's in the Engineering department at the Uni if you want a butchers . . . but who wants to come to Dundee? 

Ah, you do . . well bring your mask and don't get caught.

Sadly the fog has rendered it like a Grade 0 print on nicely fogged 30 year old Multigrade  . . . with extra fog.

Gargh 6

Which brings me to my last choice. I know where this is, and I'll keep it that way. There's something about the juxtaposition of trees and concrete that I have to keep photographing it - in fact now at the start of February I've taken another 5 photos of it at differing times of day. 

It's weirdly beautiful and I wish it wasn't chuffing phogged!

This being said the phogging has leant the print something of a warmth and also an older look. 

T'missus instantly said "that looks 30's Bauhaus"', and I tend to agree with her.

The incredible sharpness and lack of distortion from the Biogon is, to me, remarkable.

And that's the end of this sorry tale.

At least I managed to rescue something - I was chanelling Caine - he helped greatly. 

When I said thank you, he just adjusted his hat and bag, gently opened the darkroom door and moved off quietly into the gathering dusk. 

I could hear his flute for a long time after.

As for Bergger. Well don't let it put you off - their Fibre paper is lovely stuff, and to be fair to them, after I contacted them and said:

Wot's this 'ere then? I've got another 4 rolls of this tosh!

they went:

Sacré bleu!

And replaced the whole lot. 

Excellent customer service.

This being said, I doubt I'll be using it again. As I explained to them, when you go to the time and effort of all this and then the medium lets you down badly then you're unlikely to try it again. It was a good job I hadn't driven 40-odd miles and walked another 12.

I had the same thing with Foma 100 Sheet film 10 years back - and I did actually drive and walk those distances, with a bleedin' Sinar F too. The results were utterly awful (for my needs) and I've never used it again.

Anyway, over and out. I'm off to rescue a Chinese Railroad Worker and his family.

"Once mighty waters hurled themselves against rock, and from those two great forces came this gentle sand."

The Good, The Bad And The Fiddly

Morning - I hope everyone is keeping well and safe and greeting the shit-storm of a New Year with typical British stiff upper lip and a tough set to your shoulders. 

Ha, this is nothing like it was when I was a boy.

They used to beat us to bed in the dorm and we'd be awoken by a bugle call at 3.30am for a 16 mile run.

Then it was weights, a hose-down and just as the sun was beginning to rise a luverly runny egg for brekfast,

Cooo, gosh . . . . 

Eugh, gosh!

Made us Britons wot we are. 

None of your Jonny Forener muck round here, all that garlik and unyons and stuff.

Oh no, it's boyled beef, spuds, carots and grave from here on in.

Also just for this year, theres going to be extra reeding, more words, and, chiz, tests at the end.

Coo gosh.

Pleez Sir can we go home Sir . . . .

Anyway, you might recall that at the end of last year I said I was going to have a bash at using a Large Format camera again.

The Wista has been sitting in its rucksack for a few years and there was a likelihood I could punt it over the posts on the games field. 

I won't even mention the Sinar F which is currently safely packed away in a box in a chest in my study . . . no doubt plotting something Swiss.

It was all a bit daunting to be honest, but you know what, I had a go . . . and I enjoyed it too.

So carry on reading whilst your erstwhile blogger has a breakdown and rebuilds opinions as he types!

Haunted Lane

Y'see, whilst having a clear out, I found myself with a surfeit of well-expired 5x4 film - I'd always known it was there, but I just hadn't realised there was so much:

Delta 100 - 12 Sheets

TMX 400  - 7 Sheets

TXP320 - 30 Sheets

TMX 100 - 45 Sheets

So what do you do with so much film? 
Yes that's right - you use it! 

I also decided that rather than hang about in the dark for hours on end (if you're tray processing a sheet at a time, believe me there are better things to do) I would try and find a different developer that might  shorten processing time. 

Bruce from t'OD suggested Adox FX39II, so I gave it a go.

As you'll know, it is generally recommended practice when you footer photographically that you only try one thing at a time, just to see how you get on with it. 

You absolutely do not thow the baby out with the bathwater and change everything at once.

Not me though.

Oh no.

Why do anything by halves?

So:

New developer.

Well expired (2012 some of them) films.

A format I'd forgotten how to use, as the last exposures I had done were in 2016.

Cold weather - nothing better for testing the mettle of a proto-LF photographer.

PVD-affected eyesight, which makes a lot of things (like focusing!) more difficult than they could be.

Oh yes, I was ready . . . but before we get to the main monkey-business, here's some backfill. It's long and no doubt boring, so if you fancy a yawn or are in need of a good sleep, please read; if not just skip it all till you get to the bit that says:

You Can Carry On Now

A long time ago, when I first started taking Large Format photos, I threw myself into it.

I had a Sinar F (for Field, or for those of us who have actually used them in the field, F for Feck Me That Weighs A Fecking Ton!); a 150mm Symmar-S; the world's Biggest Tripod and Head (Linhof Twin-Shank and Gitzo SERIES 5); a Sinar loupe, and couple of nice Toyo DDS. 

Oh and Gumption. 

I carried it all neatly wrapped in a Tee-Shirt Dark cloth, packed in a Deuter 22 litre (!) rucksack, with the Dark Slides in a lunchbox.

Oh boy was I dedicated!

My initial practice exposures were done on cut-up Ilford MGRC slotted into the holders, just to get an idea of things. Those were the days before you could buy the likes of pre-cut Ilford's Direct Positive.

It was a total bastard trying to neatly cut MGRC down to an accurate size under a safelight with a scalpel . . . well actually I didn't even have a proper safelight either, just a Philips red bulb.

But I was dedicated!

I then moved onto film and Kodak's HC110, coz I woz no longer just dedicated, I was serious too y'ken.

I lugged that set-up all over the shop, urban, suburban, haunted sites, woods, hills and one notable trip into the wilds that very nearly killed me (though that is a bit of an exaggeration).

Becoming frustrated by trying to produce contact prints I wanted to print something, so a call to the lovely man at the much-missed MXV Photographic resulted in £375 well spent - a DeVere Bench 504, 150mm Rodagon, all inserts and hand delivered too!

Printing was fun, but I still felt a need to break free, so hunting around I found a new friend.

I have to say, looking back, the acquisition of the Wista made the biggest difference - it was like carrying a kitten as opposed to a struggling bull-mastiff.

Looking back now I wonder where all that vim came from. 

Was it just a younger man's energy and enthusiasm, or was it something else?

From 2007 to 2014 I was like a man possessed, it was pretty much all I could think of.

And then it stopped dead.

For some obscure reason, my enthusiasm wained and I let it drop like a stone . . . right after the acquisition of one of the last 90mm, f8 Super Angulons ever made.

A final 4 more exposures were taken in 2016 and then nothing till this Christmas.

Why did I drop the ball? 

I have no idea. 

It might well have had to do with Hasselblad lust (a known affliction) but I've never really thought about it until, this holiday period, whilst kneeling in the dark for an hour loading all my film holders, I pondered why on earth I had actually taken up LF photography in the first place. 

And it sort of struck me, like a box falling off a top shelf, that it was (I think) a yearning for Validation.

Ah yes, the Heffalump in the room.

I believe I thought (in my Oh-so-SERIOUS-LF mind) that if only I approached photography with a BIG idea and a BIGGER format, I could validate my creative attempts and be taken seriously. . . as a . . . as a . . . ahem, coff coff:

Photographique-artisté

Make that a small herd of Heffalumps.

You see in those days I cherished an idea that someone somewhere would actually like my stuff enough to say:

Here y'go Sheepy! 

Go forth and make photographs you poor unrecognised thing! 

Here, have a grand!

Go and buy some nice gear, you poor thing. 

All these years labouring with a knackered old Rollei T - how on earth did you manage dahling?

I think you're GREAT and that world out there deserves to see your work

Or something like that.

I think we all feel like that don't we?

Maybe it's what drives the hunger for gear we all have.

If only we had better stuff we could make better work.

Tempting isn't it - you could be recognised, or even, gasp, appreciated!

That's a younger man's dreams right there, and fortunately, such a thing never happened.

No one came knocking and nowadays I just beetle about being creative in my own way without anyone asking where the work is.

Self-funded creativity is the only way I think.

An understanding and patient partner is a massive help too.

If you're happy - great, that's the most important thing.

If others like it - great.

And if they don't - well so what.

But back to the main banana, WHY THE MADNESS?

Because, I have to say (rather like me old mate Bruce) I do find a large portion of Large Format photography relatively dull.

I know, because I've taken most of it, so don't get insulted and chuck your Dagor out of the pram.

It's a controversial statement, so let me justify myself. I've railed against it many times on here.

Just as a f'rinstance:

 

Buachaille Etive Mòr from that angle again, on an 8x10 camera and in colour too. 

Jings, just because someone famous took an iconic image of it, why copy? 

That single £20 sheet of colour film is sent off to be processed and printed (roughly a further £10 for dunking and another £10 for printing). 

Approximately, £40 for one colour image.

It's like owning a Rolex. 

Nice, but really expensive and almost pointless, because at the end of a day is it a craving for validation or something else? 

Does spending enough to cheaply feed a small family for a week on one image really make you a

Photographique-artisté?

Don't get me wrong - I'd love to have a go on the likes of a really nice 8x10" camera, and to be able to print it . . . Sorry for knocking a hole in upstairses staircase darling but the DeVere 8x10 enlarger wouldn't fit! 

But I don't necessarily think that having all that gear is going to make your work any better.

By the way, please notice the sarcastic use of work there; it's all over forums and gatherings and I loathe it. 

It's an effette term that's elitist and has all the hallmarks of Art School Bullshit. 

Work often hurts, can be mind-numbing, satisfying, exhilarating, soul-sapping, enjoyable, rewarding, stressful or a form of modern slavery. 

But please don't say photography is work, because it isn't.

Photography is a pleasurable experience that you do because you (hopefully) enjoy and are enthralled by it.

 

At the end of the day, no one is forcing you to take a picture.

So when you finally do decide to go all Ansel, mortgage your kidneys, leave a weeping family group and lug an 8x10 a couple of miles from the car, then give up because you're knackered; plonk your tripod down and think:

This'll do . . .

That is not work! It's Large Format photography.

Is it a form of masochism? Possibly.

Is it an urge for justification of the image? Possibly too.

Is it a craving for validation? Yeah possibly.

I'm not knocking anyone with the hunger to do it - after all I've been there, I can sympathise - you must have iron constitutions, but I am just pondering the reason we do it out loud in an effort to explain things to myself.

Maybe (and you can take this with a pinch of salt) most Large Format compositions are a result of the (not so) complex equation:

Weight + Distance = Image

I had to chuckle when I thought of that one; you see something promising, however, whereas with smaller formats you have the liberty to move around a bit and find something that looks exciting in the viewfinder, you are inexorably tied to that tripod (unless you're using a press camera), so you plonk it down and go through the rigmarole.

You fit camera to tripod; check camera; erect camera; lock down; open lens; compose and focus; get happy; check shutter; check meter; check f-stops; check film holder; double check composition; check focus on groundglass; make sure the corners are sharp if you want them that way; close down lens; stop down; cock shutter; insert film holder; remove slide; wait for fleeting light; take exposure; insert slide; remove film holder and place it somewhere safe; tear down set up, or else, more likely, carry it around (dangerously) on a fully erected tripod to the next place.

All the initial enthusiasm you felt for an image (well all my enthusiasm) can be rendered null and void by this activity.

Phew, is it just me or is there a pontificating twat in this room?

Anyway, again, WHY THE MADNESS when you could have just skipped in with a Medium Format camera and got pretty close to the same image?

I have thought about this a lot over the past few weeks, and I think this is where I (that's ME) am coming from now.

You see it isn't just a question of the ritual, though that is a huge part of it, but rather like doing Yoga or Tai Chi in a park, I think that the whole process gets you into a zone whereby you are entering some transcendental state of consciousness. 

The procedure is part of one whole thing. 

It's almost like a form of meditation and the image is the result of your concentration. 

Weird thought eh.

I am constantly surprised after immersing myself in taking 4 sheets of film, that a couple of hours have passed and all I have done is concentrated my attention on doing that.

Nothing else has mattered.

If you do make LF images though, please, these are just my thoughts, mad though they are - I'm really not having a pop at you - it's kind of addictive isn't it.

I'm there (behind that misted-over groundglass) with you.

There really is something rather satisfying about seeing the world on a groundglass in an upside down and reversed way and gathering all that conflicting information together so that it makes sense to your brain and ultimately to the final image.

It is certainly a challenge to do it well.

I don't know if I'll ever get there.

It actually just struck me, that it has a lot in common with my favourite TV series of the 70's, Kung Fu.

Anyway, you're not here for the pontifications of an old twat are you Glasshopper, you're here for photography . . aren't you?

You Can Carry On Now

The contacts below look utterly shite, and I would agree with you too, but that's what happens when you are trying to ease yourself back into something and trying to remember the process at the same time. 

It wasn't easy.

Gargh!
Delta 100 and TXP 320
90mm f8 Super Angulon

The 90mm f8 Super Angulon was like looking through a misted (it was very cold, the ground glass became condensationy immediately!) black net curtain. 

I hadn't a scooby what was going on.

Giving up all hope, I pointed the camera in a general direction, adjusted focus a bit and let rip.

Compositionally I have committed visual suicide as you can see.

You'll never take me seriously after this.

Developer was Adox FX39II. 

It has made me go hmmmmmm in a high-pitched way . . bit like a mozzie really.

Gargh 2!
Delta 100 and TXP 320
90mm f6.8 Angulon

It was slightly warmer - well the sun was out briefly and the wee 90mm f6.8 Angulon, whilst barely covering 5x4, did the job and I could see the ground glass a bit better, however it doesn't excuse the visual ghastliness of the above.

Maybe it IS that 5x4 thing.

I don't know.

All I do know is that the proportions of a 5x4 image are probably the most difficult to compose with - well they are for me, and strangely, unlike other formats, they seem to imbue the whole pantheon of Larger Format Photographers out there with a similar look - it is very weird.

Is it that the inherent proportions of a sheet of 5x4" or 10x8" are locked against the wider view of an increasingly widescreen world? 

Think about it, we all viewing everything in effectively Panavision.

Your TV is big and widescreen - you're so used to it that anything older than the mid-2000's looks cramped and small.

The world is 16:9 mad.

Over the past couple of years, cosying up with some old boxsets (Frasier, Cheers and Only Fools And Horses) it made me think that the old 4:3 ratio that the world lived with for so long, has far more in common with a 5x4" negative than modern 16:9.

Like the best advertising, auto-suggestion is subtle. Ergo, if you are viewing something W-I-D-E then you are thinking wide. It colours the way you view the world.

Maybe . . and it is a big maybe . . . that is why Large Format photography looks a tad out of kilter to modern eyes.

It is just a thought.

Again the sheets were developed in Adox FX39II. 

Anybody want some? 

OK it is optimised for T-Grain films (lower speed ones) but even with Delta it has produced muddy looking negatives.

Don't mention how it acted with TXP 320.

Look, don't mention it right!

That's Better!
Kodak TMY 400 (Expired 2012!)
90mm f8 Super Angulon

I had come close to deciding to wear the 90mm Super Angulon like some sort of 1990's rapper's neck attire. MC Sheep in the House, or something like that.

Fortunately I chose to lug it and the gear back to the Art College and try again.

I thought I'd better use the TMY 400 because it was the most ancient of the ancient ones I had - it expired in 2012.

The sun was out again, but really low and seeing as the whole slant of the Uni campus is South facing . . . well, what could I do but invoke the gods of flare!

Developer? 

Hmmmm - I stroked my chin - the thought of processing one sheet at a time in Pyrocat for my nominal 14 minutes leant an air of total ghastliness that I couldn't even contemplate it.

I thought again, and herein lies more madness.

It certainly wasn't going to be FX39II!

I've had 2 small containers of HC 110 (the old original un-f***ed-up stuff) sitting in my darkroom for 10+ years. It's gone a bit orange but I thought, why not, so tried it.

My reason there, is that I'd had a bad load on a sheet of film - fingers all over it trying to get the little bugger into the holder - so I thought why not try the developer and if the load was buggered up, I had nothing to lose. 

So, one 5x7 tray, 9ml of HC 110 and 295ml of water at around 20℃; 6 minutes in the dark for development, 1 for stop and around 4 for fix and bingo! A result.

I was so chuffed that it actually looked normal (compared to the mud the FX39II had produced) that I decided to process the rest of the sheets in it.

To say I was delighted would be an understatement.

HC is a nice clean-working developer and the time is very convenient, although these are now salient points as Kodak changed it entirely a few years ago. Plus it is now nearly £40 a bottle!

God bless 'em.

I think if I continue along this route I'll just use Ilfotec HC which is supposed to be virtually identical.

Haunted Lane (again)

Him (again)

The Planet Takes Over

And that's about it really - the above are scans from work prints, quickly done on Ilford MGRC, Grade 3.

I quite like them actually - it's enough to make me want to persist with the Super Angulon's dimness.

By all accounts,  the Super Angulon design is a Biogon derivitive and seeing as you've seen a lot of that courtesy of the SWC/M on these pages, well maybe there'll be an air of uniformity to the images.

Anyway, I'll let you go now - you've read a lot, and they'll be coming around with your cup of tea and scone soon.

Remember to say hello to that nice lad Herman, he might look a bit funny but his heart is in the right place.

TTFN.