Grotography

Morning folks - it's a great term isn't it . . makes you feel, all, oooh tramps-vesty, if you know what I mean.

Bayview Morning

The phrase was coined by long-time FB pal and regular communicator Bruce from The Online Darkroom and by it, he means photographs  . . . of lots of grot. 

I am pretty sure he has lots, though he says it was the same old crap everyone else photographed . . . . 

He was snapping Dundee when I'd left College, given up on my dreams and was trying to be musical. He'll probably deny it but I'll bet he's recorded a lot of the terrible injustices and architectural tragedies wreaked here and if you want grot, I am pretty sure he's the man what's got a lot (sorry couldn't resist that). 

Actually, it is surprising that as a subject, there could possibly be more pictures (in private archives, snaps, prints, slides) of this City in its down phase than most cities in Britain, simply because it was everywhere.

These two articles remind me of what it was like coming here in 1980 from a rural background. A baptism of fire methinks:

https://flashbak.com/tag/neale-elder/

Also, aside from your melange of general photographers, head of photography at Duncan Of Jordanstone (Joe McKenzie) actively encouraged his students to go and photograph what was happening, and they did!

There's another Neil I know who recorded the city in the 80's and (in hindsight) it is incredibly valuable stuff. So like I say if you take all that, plus the activities of DC Thompson photographers and gathered the whole lot together it would be substantial.

It is even more important now given how the place is rising from the metaphorical ashes.

Anyway, my recent adventure into Grot occured one morning when I was trying to find a community surgery and was having a scope out of its location before my appointment. 

I chanced upon a scheme pub (which I knew existed) called The Bayview, and it sadly looked partly great and well-cared for and partly past its best. 

Whilst there I was accosted by the owner's brother who was wondering what I was doing photographing it, but was actually really nice and helpful when I told him that way back when I first came here my student flat was not too far away and I knew (and [very occasionally] drank in) some of the other pubs (The Jimmy Shand and the Charleston Bar) but had never actually been to this one.

And there it is in all its sad glory - I feel gutted for places like this. 

Times are truly difficult in Britain's hospitality trade, REALLY hard, and the bloke told me that whilst the upper bar was fine and still in use (and I could photograph it if I liked) the lower bar was no longer in use. 

He used a fruitier term which I'll not recount.

It's a bloody shame though, because it, and in fact most scheme pubs, have that air of post-WW II concrete brutalism, which I dearly love. 

It is actually quite Soviet (!) but that is doing them a total injustice. 

I would call it Space Age Optimism. 

There's an air about them. 

You can't put your finger on it, but it is the sum of all of Britain's post war hopes for a more equal society; everyone working together for the greater good; settled times and lessons learned; happiness and, if you wanted it, you could have a few pints in your local housing estate (scheme) pub with all your mates. 

Not much to ask really is it? yet sadly, for The Bayview and probably most of Britain, the scheme pub is on its last legs. 

I find that really really sad.

Home drinking; lockdown and now cost of living are all driving nails into these coffins and when they're gone, they will never come back - simple as that.

They're barely viable from an economic point of view and if they go, so does that style of architecture.

But back to The Bayview. 

It is a wonderfully optimistic name isn't it, and that's because from the upper lounge windows you get a great view of Invergowrie Bay. A view so beautiful that if it were anywhere else in the UK it would have visitors . . however because the viewpoint is mostly occupied by a hospital and council housing, nobody comes for pleasure. 

Deal with it. 

That's Dundee to a tee though - you'd be hard pressed to find many cities around the world set in such scenic beauty, with so many catastrophic and foolish planning decisions.

Anyway, when I saw it I wanted to photograph it immediately. I only had the F3/28mm Nikkor on me and took a couple of snaps, but I wanted to do it justice, so went back a couple of days later with the SWC/M and a monopod. 

It was a brutally cold morning - so much so that I couldn't feel my fingers at all and the tears leapt from my eyes in shock when I got off the bus. 

But the shadows were great and the early sun was slowly reviving the earth and cutting through the light haze. 

I had Delta 400 rated at EI200 and I set to work quickly and must have got through all 12 frames in about 20 minutes flat. 

I think I was in a bit of a state of shock because of the cold actually - I felt light-headed and a bit breathless. 

Always a one to believe that preparedness is the best way to be in photography, I thanked the fact that I have used the SW so much that it is almost second nature. 

Not that there's a whole lot to do, but you really must remember to focus, because nothing is going to tell you that you got it wrong, until you develop the negatives!

Oh and take the lens cap off you twat . . . been there, designed and printed the t-shirt too.

The Delta 400 was developed in HC110 Dilution B and those are straight scans off of the prints.

Given the extreme contrast range, I think it has dealt with it beautifully; it is a very versatile developer.

And yes, the eagle-eyed will note that at some point a homeless person has set up home here, though it is empty now (thank goodness) as there's barely any shelter and it's a pretty cold spot.

And that's it really - I think it works as a sequence and I like the fact that nature and detritus are reclaiming part of the site. There was a treasure trove of old Mangers Cider tins and so on right up the side of the building - Grotography In Extremis . . .

I'm also delighted with how the SW has dealt with such extreme lighting conditions - deep shade and point-source sunshine - it hasn't failed me in the last print.

Oh and the prints are all on gifted Ilford MGRC Pearl (thanks Alan!) developed in Agfa Neurol NE and then selenium toned.

So, until the next time, go and make a landlord happy, it'll mean more than you think.

TTFN, keep taking the pills.

H xx

It's An Affie Bonnie Day Fer Takin' Some Fotees

Morning folks - you'll have to get yer heed around the epithet of this one.

Y'know, for years I have railed against being 'Dundonian'. 

I don't know why . . . well I do actually, it is because I always wanted to get back to the country and I think that denying that I was actually settled here would, in some weird way, get me back where I belonged . . . wading through soggy vegetation, shouting at cows, listening to rivers etc etc . . you get the drift. 

But it never happened, and I think now is probably more or less unlikely to - the river of life runs its course and it isn't always the course you expected; however that course can be something far sweeter. 

That does make me a wee bit sad, however, never being one to dwell on things too much, I have accepted (and also been called such . . by 'locals' no more, no less) that I am now a proud Dundonian.

Proud?

Yep, you heard that right.

I had a really long wander this morning, from the part of the Hawkhill that used to be called 'Witch Knowe' up and along Annfield Road, onto Blackness Road (strangely [for what used to be a bit of a shithole] now morphing into one of the most culturally diverse streets you could imagine) and up to beautiful Balgay Park; thence the heavy climb up to Mills Observatory, then down, crossing the bridge and into Balgay Cemetery. 

All the way, I was looking at the light, and I realised, that the light here can be quite different to other places. 

It is often silvern, and I put that down to its sunny aspect (sunniest city in Scotland!) and the reflection of said sunshine off a mile wide chunk of river - the Tay.

My old mentor Joseph McKenzie, always said the light was different here, but it has only been in recent years that I have come to appreciate the profound truth of that statement. 

Sure it can be utterly grey for weeks on end, but when you get a morning like this morning, well, it is wonderful. 

But more to the point, excellent for taking photographs. 

With my new enforced leisure status, I am able to really appreciate the ebb and flow of morning light; at this time of the year the shadows are just beginning to climb back to brightness, so at times you have deep, deep shadow, and piercing sunlight. Overlay this with the moisture content coming in off the estuary and you have, at times, an effect quite akin to early, uncoated lenses.

It was this combo that I experienced last week, using an unfamiliar film and focal length, but a familiar subject. 

The film was Pan F.

It had officially 'died' in November 2009, but seeing as I now have 7 rolls of it (gifted by a friend - thanks Alan!) I thought it best to let it get up and get busy! 

The lens was the 250mm Hasselblad Sonnar - a lens I have used a few times, but still not gelled with, which is daft really as I often have wished for more distance-closing power at times. 

The subject was one of the most (to my eyes) beautiful pieces of monumental sculpture I've ever seen (and I've visited a few museums, believe me). I've photographed her before and you'll recognise her, but I felt she deserved the full portrait.

To directly quote the Zeiss literature for the lens:

Even at full aperture the 250 mm Sonnar@ T* f/5.6 lens features such excellent image quality that stopping down is not required. Despite its long focal length and remarkable telephoto effect, this lens is compact and allows hand-held photography.

The 250 mm Sonnar@ T* f/5.6 lens is used tor portraiture, long-range, press, sports and stage photography. In outdoor portraiture, the shallow depth-of-field range can be used to advantage to separate the model from an unsteady background.

So with this in mind I went and whiled away a happy couple of hours.

Despite the widely held internet belief that Pan F and HC110 are a complete no-no, things turned out fine, which was fortunate, because I had mis-metered two of the exposures (as I'll show you below) placing the shadows on Zone III . . . however I obviously read the wrong part of the scene. 

Fortunately I'd made more exposures with placing the 'skin' tones of the stone on Zone VI and it was from these negatives I managed to print (after wasting a couple of sheets of paper trying to print from the Z III ones.)

The results were printed on some handed-on Ilford MGRC, Pearl. I printed them at Grade 3 and toned them in Selenium. 

I was thinking far more contrasty in my head when I took them, but after weighing up the options, chose to print them more muted.

They were exposed at f8. The Sonnar is a f5.6 and I find it remarkable that you can quite clearly see cobwebs in the prints only one stop down from maximum.

I rated the film at EI50 simply because of its age and, as I said, developed them in HC110.

I used Dilution H simply because of the extreme contrast range of the day and it worked pretty well.

As you can see from the snippet from the contact print, I really ballsed-up two exposures - there is a lot of image on the negatives, but they are just too beyond-the-pale to get anything out of them. 

Anyway, here are the prints - direct scans from the print as per usual:

Contact Print Snippet

So I took my photos, and that was that.

I packed up, moved on and further along the way encountered a really cheery bloke, about my age, who said in pure Dundonian:

"Mornin'! It's an affie bonnie day fer takin' some fotees eh!"

And I couldn't have agreed with him more. 

He was dead friendly. 

I can't quite believe I am typing this, but it's that sort of place.

It's changing, in a big way for the better, but in another way sadly for the loss of some character - the proper Dundee auld wifies who used to troll about the town are dying off; the dialect is lessening.

Such is the way of the world.

Anyway, till next time, as always, thanks for reading, take care and keep on fighting the good fight.

H xx

Afternoon Delight

Q: Got a ton of old negatives that you have not a clue what to do with and you're worried about the Cost Of Living Crisis and energy coasts?

A: Get yourself a darkroom - simple as that. 

Morning folks - you know it says something when the darkroom is the warmest room in the house, but this Winter this is proving to be the case - jings, even Olive Oil solidified in our kitchen!

  

But it is very different in the darkroom - I can snuggle up tight in there, heating myself with nothing more than a constant temperature (it used to be a wine cellar); the intermittent use of a 250W bulb; one 15W safelight and the white heat of creativity 😎.

It works a treat. 

Grey days drift away in a flurry of activity lit red. 

Ice on the windows? 

No problem, hunker down in the darkroom and learn.

Sun not risen at all today?

Take up thy fixer and walk (or kneel in my case).

5x4" Negative,
Fomabrom Variant 111, Kodak Selenium,
Adox Neutol NE Developer

Regular readers will know that when I was a young man, pretty much what I wanted to do with life was print. 

Regular readers will also know that what happened was not what I expected and economic circumstance led to an entirely different path. 

Well, with a change in life circumstances, that has now changed. 

I can print . . and not only that, but I can print what I want and when I want to. 

It's marvellous.

Various 9.5 x 12" prints in Secol sleeves

To that end, and as mentioned recently, I have tried to standardise an archive, and it wasn't the easiest matter.

The problem hit me when I (after much faffing and measuring) printed an 8x8" image from my Hasselblad on 9.5x12" paper. 

I was, to coin a phrase, knocked out. 

It wasn't so much the sheer image size, but more the print now gave real presence to the Zeiss lens. 

I hadn't been expecting this, after all I had printed on 9.5 x 12" paper before, but this was something else.

I repeated the exercise with the Rollei T's Tessar, and the Minoltor Autocord's Rokkor, and whilst they were good (really good at times) neither had the sheer grit, micro-detail and subtle greys of the Distagons and Sonnars, and Biogon.

I then repeated the exercise with images from my Large Format lenses. 

To say this was a revelation is a bit of an understatement. 

A 5x4" negative printed on bigger paper with a decent border is a thing to behold.

I have to precursor that though, with the following: 

Up till now, my LF enlarging lens has been a nice 80's-ish 150mm Rodenstock Rodagon. 

It's been fine (despite the obvious scuffs on the front and the back - the latter I believe robbing me of a decent amount of quality) but always left me with an itch I really wanted to scratch. 

To my eyes, every print I have ever made from a 5x4" with the Rodagon has just not had the chutzpah you're supposed to get with Large Format photography. 

The lens was effectively free with my DeVere (God Bless Mr. MXV, wherever you are) and I always just accepted that (as has been written many times) MF and even 35mm lenses produce 'sharper' results than LF. 

Hmmm, well . . . he said stroking his chin. 

I was having a butchers at enlarging lenses on Ebay one day, and, because I believe a lowly 100mm Vivitar is the best enlarging lens I have ever owned (yes, over Leitz and Rodenstock, Durst and Nikon) I came across a 135mm one . . for £32. 

That's not even a brainstorming, sick-on-the-pavement night in the pub these days, so I thought why not. 

And indeed the thing was a complete revelation. 

All the micro-detail, subtle grey nuances and "overall bollocks" (that's a technical term - look it up - it's in "The Negative" . . page 134) that I'd always thought were there on the negatives, were indeed there, but now writ large on big paper. 

Oh boy was I a happy bunny.

And what, you might well be asking yourself, is the big paper?

Well for 'economical' purposes I decided to get 50 sheets of Ilford MGFB and a 10 sheet sample box of Foma 111. 

Why Ilford? 

Well, the colour head mixing settings for different grades are the same as Kentmere RC (and I had a box of that) so I am not having to slice up expensive fibre paper to make test strips and overall, I would say things match up very well. 

As for Foma, I have never used it before and I have to say I shall be using it again, which is weird because I am not really a fan of their films. 

The paper though has a different look to Ilford. 

Its surface reminds me more of the sheen on Forte's Polywarmtone which I always loved. AND it looks like Fomabrom and Fomaspeed (the RC version) use the same emulsion, so I can use RC for test strips.

OK Sheepy, wtf about dry-down etc, how can you possibly judge things?

 

Well, it is a complex matter, that, dare I say might well have been over-egged over the years. 

If you read around, dry down is a relatively strange thing, running from shifts in the darkest tones (Ansel's "thud") of a print due to: wet prints vs dry prints; heat drying; malevolent forces; changes in emulsion; alien interference etc etc - told you it was complex. 

I always air-dry my prints and have to say I have never noticed any really significant darkening of images and that is over decades of printing. Sure there is a small (as in tiny) amount, but to say this impacts on the quality of the print, is hair-splittingly hairiness of the hairy kind.

A lot of people have said it is commensurate with heat drying and I can see how that might affect things, but I don't heat dry.

Air Drying -secondhand caravan clothes line and plastic pegs!
Left and Right, Ilford Pinned Back To Back method.
Centre, Sheephouse "'Ang It From The Corner Missus" Method

It's also probably anathema to all the cloak-wearing darkroom wizards out there about using RC paper to make a printing judgement for FB paper, but it can be done. 

The greatest printer I ever knew was Joseph McKenzie, and he could make an exposure/grade judgment call just by looking at a negative. That ability came from thousands of hours spent printing; in other words experience. 

I'm sure the likes of Robin Bell and all the Master Printers out there, doing this for a living can work in the same way too.

For me, I don't have their eyes, so I will decide on my Grade (which as a starting point is nearly always Grade 3 these days) hack up a bit of RC, whack it on the weasel, expose in 4 second increments, whack it in the developer, develop for most of the proper time, give it a wiggle in the stop, whack it in the fix, and slap the lights on after about 15 seconds. 

I can generally make a decent judgement call from this.

You see, although printing is a relatively easy process defined by care, as in:

You have all the ingredients (assuming you have a decent negative) to make an impressive print.

You have all the ingredients (assuming you have a decent negative) to make a dog's dinner.

The darkroom is the GREAT LEVELLER.

That sounds like the name of the horned bloke from 'Legend' or, more to my taste, the name of the horned bloke from Tenacious D's "The Greatest Song In The World".

Why the Great Leveller? 

Because everyone is using pretty much exactly the same stuff, from exhibitions hanging in MOMA, to a couple of prints stuck up in a local cafe.

The difference between famine and feast is your care as a printer. 

You have to be precise and consistent. 

You have to take care with each stage (yeah I know what I wrote above about my test strips, but I can say that because I have been doing this for a long time).

But the thing is, printing ISN'T rocket science. 

It's a craft skill, like crochet or knitting and anyone can learn a craft skill.

It truly is an egalitarian process.

And whilst these days it is considered to be a luxury craft skill, and boy can it be frustrating when you make mistakes with a sheet of paper costing a couple of quid, on the whole, it is FUN. 

And educational. 

And, I believe, life-enhancing.

It improves you as a human being, because the care you take in the darkroom, can lend itself to run and rummel of every day life too. 

The precision, order and concentration rub off. 

They really do!

But that is me heading on another of my Sheephousian metaphysical borrocks convos, and we don't want to go there.

So, to round out, here's some straight scans of recent stuff, printed whilst ice formed on the inside of my house's windows, grey skies cemented themselves onto the general milieu of the British psyche and people started another year in a great state of flux and doubt.

If that phrase applies to you, I am sorry - things will get better, just trust that.

5x4" Negative, 
Fomabrom Variant 111, Kodak Selenium, 
Adox Neutol NE Developer

 

5x4" Negative, 
Fomabrom Variant 111, Kodak Selenium, 
Adox Neutol NE Developer

5x4" Negative, 
Fomabrom Variant 111, Kodak Selenium, 
Adox Neutol NE Developer

35mm Negative, 
Ilford MGRC, Heavily toned in Selenium, Then Bleached in Ferri.
Firstcall MG Developer

TTFN old fruitcakes and thank you, once again, from the bottom of my heart, for reading.

Be good and if you can't be good, be careful.

Everything is going to be alright.

H xx

The Legacy Shuffle - One Way Around P.A.S.

Morning folks - been a while I know, however I have been a beavering away again and have only just found time to get into the darkroom. But it has been fine - makes one appreciate the finer things as it were!

Also, not just going in and banging off some prints has made me realise that P.A.S. (Print Accumulation Syndrome) can be largely pointless at my time of life.

A strange statement? 

Well not really, because there comes a time that one realises the mortal coil is moving on and at the end of the day, someone will have to deal with the tons of old prints and negatives you've shuffled away from and left behind. 

Oh yes, one can't beat facing one's own demise to sharpen the mind!

The Late, Great Agfa MCC
Archivally processed
Selenium toned
5x4 Kodak TXP Negative

Luckily I sorted out my negatives years ago. 

It was time-consuming, but simple and ultimately useful in the long run too. 

Am I looking for an image I remember taking a couple of decades back? 

Well, that is easy, refer to the contact print, look at the corresponding details that are written on the back, search through appropriate negatives and bing, you're there.

Shooting across multiple formats as I have done over years meant that rather than just having a big mass of negative sleeves and no idea, I spent a bit of cash and got organised. 

First things first, divide negatives into formats. 

Sadly if you've not written the date on the negative sleeve, you've got a problem right off. You'll need to stretch your mind (if you can be bothered) however it is worth it. 

I tend to number my films in the following manner:

35/001 (for the first one) and progress from there. Luckily I have detailed in notebooks which camera I used, where it was and the date. I then ALWAYS make a contact print of said film and file them away chronologically (and notated on the back) in boxes (old 8x10 paper boxes) for the format, which is clearly marked on the outside: 35mm Contacts 35/001 to 35/999 (whatever number of contacts are in there).

Then there's 6x6, so 66/001 - same procedure as above. Brief dalliances with a 6x9 box camera and the two 6x7 cameras I have owned are marked 67/001 and 69/001. There is a slight twist to the 66 ones - I now have a 645 back for the Hasselblad, so that is lumped under 66, however notated 66/333/645/1 (meaning the Three Hundred and Thirty Third 6x6 negative set, but the first 645). 

It makes sense to me. 

Again, they are all contacted and filed away.

5x4 negatives are treated in exactly the same manner.

I store my negatives separately per format too - it just makes things so much easier. 

The boxes I use are the clamshell CXD ones which have a solid 4-ring binder system in them - they're not massively expensive yet are extremely sturdy. 

The negatives themselves are stored in either Print File or Clearfile Archival sleeves. 

I really hate glassine sleeves simply because you cannot see what is going on without removing the negatives from them - plus, if you've got an accidental wet hand in the darkroom and are trying to remove a new negative, the glassine can become difficult to say the least.

And that's yer negs sorted! 

Easy eh. 

It does take time, but in my humble opinion it is time well spent, especially because it will force you to re-examine your own archive. Believe me, you have some gems in there!

One thing I did a few months back was join (well, not really join, more turn up and introduce myself!) the Photography Forum at Dundee's DCA. 

It is a loose collection of really good photographers, all with their own take on things and, every month, some truly surprising and enjoyable images. 

From my own point of view it has made me focus on what I am going to take along, and this in turn has made me go a huntin' through Ye Olde Negatives And Contacts to find something to print. 

This is a good thing.

Now I could just be going through the old piles of prints searching for chiff chaff, however now I have a point of focus I want to print new stuff. 

Not only that, but a lot of those old legacy prints, are, to coin a common parlance . . S.H.I.T.E. 

Printing is a life-long learning experience. 

There, that is that out of the way.

Aside from the life-enhancing qualities, it is also fun, however it can often be utterly frustrating and demanding (weirdly both physically and mentally) but at the end of the day it beats hanging about on the corner with the lads, smoking tabs and drinking beer.

Also (despite what you've probably seen written or vlogged to death) it need not be complicated. 

In fact, it can be as simple or as complicated as you like. 

A lot of beginners feel they need to dive deep into split-grade/lith/f-stop timing/analysers etc etc etc. Well, I'm here to tell you, YOU DON'T.

Actually, you don't need much more than the bare basics:

Enlarger (or controllable light source if you are contact printing)

Easel (always handy but masks made from card, or print corners held down with masking tape can suffice)

Grain focuser (I used to poo poo these, but as my eyesight has got worse, completely rely on one  - the wee Paterson Minor is a good place to start)

Four Trays (or more - they're always handy) 

Jug and measuring receptacles (I use cheap jugs from hardware shops - they last for years)

And that is it. 

Your darkroom doesn't even need a dedicated water source. 

Certainly it is handy, but for myself, I don't have one and get along fine. 

You use a tray as your print washer. Dedicated print washers are expensive though handy, but until you feel you need one, it is easy enough to wash in a tray under a slowly running tap or steeping the print in multiple changes of water. 

If you're printing with RC paper, washing does not take long; if you're using fibre it will take longer, however any of the wash aids (Ilford, Kodak etc) used before washing drop the time dramatically.

SIMPLE.

The Late, Great Agfa MCC
Archivally processed
Selenium toned
5x4 Kodak TMX 400 Negative

All the scans in this post were produced from prints made with the bare minimum of equipment - albeit, given my decades long investment in the craft, decent equipment.

They were printed on my last five sheets of 9.5 x 12" Agfa MCC fibre. 

This was a wonderful paper. 

I got the box from the late, great Sandy Sharp when he was shutting the doors on his darkroom. 

Initially I thought it was fogged, especially given that there is a sticker on the box reading "£30, Mr Cad, 2006"; however a couple of sheets in and it was fine. 

As a paper it has always elicited a response - not down to the printing, more down to the lovely slightly warm quality, and the exceptional D-Max and surface. 

Ah, it was great, and I know Adox still make it's equivalent, however it really is too rich for my blood in these post-Brexit times - well over £100 for a box of 50 sheets. You could make some very expensive mistakes.

Anyway, I'd been sitting on 5 sheets for a few years now, and decided to go for it. With the exception of one print (the brown one) I was very pleased with the results, and passed around at the DCA they got some very kind (and, working as a lone photographer) encouraging, comments.

Anyway, that was a brief aside.

As I said I have boxes of old prints. A lot of them I like, and a lot of them I think are pretty awful. 

I'll keep the ones I like.

But, and here's where my new point of focus comes in - I am now re-examining my archive of negatives with a view to creating an archive of prints that might not necessarily end up in a skip. 

In other words, I am trying to imbue my decades of photographic tinkering with an air of GRAVITAS. 

And I think there is only one way to do that, and it is to present your prints as if they mean something. 

In other words, they're not just a collection of random images presented on varying paper formats in varying ratios of image size. 

Bruce from The Online Darkroom and I have slightly conflicting views about this - he thinks getting a book or two made by the likes of Blurb is the answer. To an extent, yes, I agree with him, however I think that is really just the gravy on the main feast. 

Books perish. 

Yes it can take a hell of a long time, but they do. 

They get handled a lot if they're good; people are less than careful with them so pages get scubby and dog-eared; they can suffer from poor storage and get foxy - a ghastly thing! 

They can be leant out to other people to never return . . . you know the sort of thing. 

So while they may be precious to the next generation along, two generations down they are just some old books produced by someone you've never known, but who was related to you.

There are no guarantees a proper archive won't be treated in the same way; it could well be lost or disposed of, however, I feel it might have more of a fighting chance. 

You are sort of armour plating it for an unknown future. 

As such, it has to be as damn near perfect as it can be.

It has to say, to someone in the future: "There Is Worth In Me." 

And not just monetary worth, but worth garnered from your (the photographer and instigator) images of a world passed by.

It is no wonder we look at the collections of vintage prints held in archives around the world and hold them in some sort of reverence. Granted, the majority of photographic collections are from The Gods Of The Shutter, but all the same, there must be, in cupboards or dusty attics, cardboard boxes and plastic boxes, an Everyman Archive.

Images too precious to be disposed of: Mum, Dad, them in love; a lost sibling; a treasured pet long gone; a carefully made and contact printed 8x10" of some trees you thought were beautiful. You know the sort of thing.

So what I am saying is: solidify, for future generations, the importance of that.

The world of the photograph is dying. The world of the image lives on, on SD cards, hard drives, in servers around the world, and yet, for want of a better expression, it is ephemeral.

I won't go into the whys and wherefores of 1's and 0's vs. physical media - it is too long and too dull, however what I will say, to you . . . yes, you there with a print in your hand . . . is that what you are holding is a precious object, of value far more than its physical form. 

You are holding time. 

You are a Master Time Lord. 

That moment you have captured and decided to make physical will never exist again, so why not give it a decent chance of a future.

The prints have to be the best you can make - they have to be consistent, printed beautifully and processed to archival standards. 

They have to be presented in archival polyester sleeves and stored in archival clamshell boxes. There are archival sleeves and archival sleeves - I can truly recommend Secol HC. 

I use them.

They are not flimsy; they protect a print perfectly and are manufactured in the UK from completely inert and Acid-Free 80 Micron polyester film, making them safe for photographic and paper long-term archival storage.

They are not cheap, but they fill one with a confidence that 100 years down the line they'll still be doing their job.

Museums use them . . . 'nuff said.

Now all this sounds a bit extreme, but in reality I genuinely feel it is worth it. 

And you know what? If you're a digi-bunny, you can join in the fun too! 

There are archival inks out there (albeit probably more expensive than making a silver print!) and printing them onto an archival paper will give you a good running chance. 

Your main danger (as is also the case with a silver print) will be exposure to UV. 

It is a killer. 

Even reflected UV can take its toll - you can see that on the spines of books, CDs, DVDs that you might have on display, but not stored in direct light. The spines will be faded. It isn't always the case, but especially with modern books it often is.

So beware. A good quality clamshell is probably sensible.

Anyway, if this has set you thinking, GOOD.

It has always been the aim of FogBlog to get people thinking about things.

The Late, Great Agfa MCC
Badly printed, saved by bleaching.
Archivally processed
Selenium toned
5x4 Kodak Ilford HP5 Negative

The Late, Great Agfa MCC
Archivally processed
Selenium toned
5x4 Kodak TMX 100 Negative

The Late, Great Agfa MCC
Archivally processed
Selenium toned
5x4 Ilford Delta 100 Negative

And that, as they say, is about it.

You can do it. 

Think about it and give it a damn good shot.

Someday, decades from now, someone could be looking at your stuff and saying: 

"Damn, how did this survive?"

As with all things in life, there are no guarantees, you can only give it your best shot. 

But rather than sending off a wee balsawood craft into the stream of time, why not make it more seaworthy?

"Ship-shape and Bristol fashion!" is what my dear old Mum used to say, and who am I to disagree with her?

And that's it for this year folks - normally I do a round-robin, but it was becoming old hat and besides the robin needed his bonnet back. 

There will be more posts next year, but until then, Season's Greetings to you all. 

Peace.

H xx

Deep Woods And Soggy Pants

Morning folks - well, decorating and DIY were put aside for a brief four days of holidays in the Borders (of Scotland). It's an area we know well and love very much.

The feel is very different to the West side of the South Of Scotland, which is quite wild with less obvious history. 

The East Borders are easily distinguishable by the mark the Romans made in trying to conquer Scotia, that is, lots of forts, earthworks and a series of roads which span millenia. 

The main of these is Dere Street, which stretches from York all the way to Edinburgh and was a proper Shanks' Motorway for hundreds of years. 

It is now partly called "The Pilgrim's Way."

You can get a fantastic idea of the post-Roman period in history by reading Rosemary Sutcliffe's (ostensibly for 'children') trilogy: "The Eagle Of The Ninth", "The Silver Branch" and "The Lantern Bearers". 

They're largely dismissed these days as being historically inaccurate and a bit twee, however, as a lifelong reader I can honestly say, of any of the billion books I have ever read, these throw you full-on into the dung and stench of the early, post-AD period; you can feel the pain, terror and sheer excitement of battle; the smell of woodsmoke and cooking fires; the wear of daily travail; the clank of armour coming over a distant moor - you get my drift - they're Time Machines.

A remarkable achievement by a lady who was wheelchair bound for all her life and could only wander afar in her imagination. 

Highly recommended.

Anyway, back to the main monkey-business - you wanna banana Choppers? 

Yooz got it.

I've often found on country holidays that the easiest way to get anything satisfactory, photographically, is NOT to go for The Grand View. 

Fuggedaboudit. 

No point. 

Everybody's doin' it, doin' it, doin' it.

Pickin' their nose and chewin' it, chewin' it, chewin' it. 

(Sorry, you obviously didn't go to the same school as I did where the aforementioned ditty was much popular in about 1969.)

To me Grand Views leave me as cold as anything.

They're just foul interpretations of the immense beauty of nature. Granted it is hard to stuff all that wonder into a small lens and thence onto a sensor or film, but tbh, they've been done sooooooo many times, is there really any other point to them other than to prove you were there?

I think the Grand View really dilutes the power of Landscape Photography.

You have to feel a place before it can talk back to you.

My solution?

Immerse yourself in what is literally just outside the door of your cottage, caravan, hotel, tent, whatever.

Check the Ordnance Survey map of your locality. 

Bing Maps Aerial Views are pretty good too, but to my mind an OS can make sense of features you haven't got a scooby about.

See something interesting? (in the case of my recent holiday, an Iron Age Earthwork on a promontory on a very minor river) find it and photograph it and its environs.

It is far more satisfying to be able to say to yourself:

"I doubt anyone has ever taken a picture here before!"

Honest - try it and see.

So there I was, after an afternoon of really heavy, thundery showers, desperate to get the tripod and camera out and get out for a small photograph.

We had an earlyish tea, I donned suitable outdoor gear, and out I went. 

Full sundown was around 8 PM and I was out about 6.30.

I think I have described the gloaming before - it is a wonderful Scots word for that time when the world is just nestling down into darkness. 

It, to me, also encompasses the brief period before sunset when things start to quieten a lot. 

Birds set themselves down; small mists lift themselves free of grassland; rivers take on a loud rushing which is totally different to normal daytime. 

You can feel the peace coming on.

It is my most favourite time of the day to take photographs. 

Light changes quickly; aside from everything getting darker, you need to take into account that pretty much every frame will be different. 

You also need to work quickly and methodically. 

No farting about. 

Know Your Onions (as my Dad used to say).

Jane's Wood 1

As you can see from the above, despite the sun star, the light was falling fast - what you can still see of the sun was just cresting the woods on the other side of the gorge and literally I had minutes before the whole place settled itself into deep gloom.

I am happy with the print - it is hard to capture soft light like that without being underexposed or printing too heavily - you need a measure of low contrast just to keep things down a bit.

Film was FP4 developed in HC 110 on Dilution B. I printed it in Ilford MGRC. 

My camera was the Hasselblad 500 C/M and the lens was the newish and totally wonderful 40mm Distagon. 

Compared to the Biogon on the SW, it captures the same amount of detail (which is vast - easily the equivalent of 5x4 if not more so) but is slightly contrastier and doesn't have the same 'air' that the Biogon has.

I put this down to the coating and also that it is more than 10 years younger, and of course a different design. 

I love it though and for landscape it is far easier to compose with than the Biogon.

Jane's Wood 2

The small, overgrown path down to the gorge passed an iron age fort (as mentioned above - it was sited in a marvellous and easy to defend position) and entered a wood called 'Jane's Wood'. 

It was planted in memory of a young woman, Jane Thornton, who died in 1984. 

It is all small Oaks, though obviously they're growing, and the place has an air of total peace. 

Jane and I would be of similar ages, and I wondered to myself how she died. I also, felt entirely humbled by the fact that someone would plant a whole Oak Wood in her remembrance. 

What a beautiful tribute to a life cut short, and weirdly, it was almost as if her spirit imbued the place with a certain something. 

Of course that could just be donkey shite on my behalf, but I actually truly think I stumbled upon that spirit of place I always look for.

As she had been raised on one of the nearby farms, I assume she must have loved the place too. 

The route down, was, as they'd say "A Well Ken't Road" as, at the bottom, there are the remains of a truly ancient bridge - I'd put it back to 17th or even 16th Century. It's tumbled and gone though.

I got to the bottom of the gorge and managed to finish off the rest of the film in difficult circumstances. I've not included them here because they don't have the same soft, gloamy feel.

I was pretty much soaked to the skin and deeply sweating too (it was quite a climb down through slippery wet vegetation) but being next to a river at dusk is just about my favourite thing in the whole world and I got the feel of this small, yet quick river, deep into me.

Certainly near where we were staying there was plenty of camera fodder, but in being careful and using maps and intuition to explore before setting out, I got lucky and chanced upon a feeling and an unexpected place I shall never forget.

God bless Jane, and thank you.

The above print, was another difficult one and I had to print on Grade 4.5, as, even though I'd compensated for reciprocity in my exposure, the light was outrunning that factor if you get my drift.

Again FP 4 in Dilution B and printed on Ilford MGRC.

And tha-tha-that's it folks - be good and watch out for those tripod ruts.

H xx

Broken Crackers

Morning folks - this is just a quick update on That Cream Cracker Feeling.

Well, the Mamiya C220 went back for an overhaul. Seemingly it was the lens unit that was completely out (as in, taken apart and fecked beyond belief by some wazzock) so I waited. 

And waited . . .

And waited!

A new lens unit was sourced, body was overhauled, screen adjusted properly (I had to  explain that one to them!) and 3+ months later, I got the camera back.

It looked lovely and squeaky clean, however . . . .

The Single/Multi button still moved with the breath of a gentle breeze, meaning it would need to be taped over for day-to-day use. 

The 'new' Sekor-S lens looked wonderful, but the shutter speeds were well out and worse still, the aperture lever was louder and less smooth than the Salt Mill in our kitchen. It made an intense grinding sound that felt as bad as it sounded - I dunno - it was like the ball-bearing had gone or else there were large chunks of sand in there. 

Man was I peeved, so. getting back on the phone, I let rip in a vaguely Sheephousian fashion, which is actually, fairly pleasant.

In all fairness to the vendor, there were no arguments, the whole lot was sent back and, to be honest, I have no desire to explore Mamiya stuff ever again, which I guess is a good thing in some ways.

It's a great shame though, because the C220 was fairly easy to use; however, having spent years with little wonders like a Rollei's considerably lighter weight and its lovely, moving parallax indicator, I can see in hindsight somewhere down the line, me and the C220 wouldn't have been pals. 

It's better off in someone else's hands.

I am quite sad about it on one hand - all I wanted was a small carry about MF camera, and, ostensibly, the 220 fitted the bill, but yeah, excuse me whilst I type, justify and think, the parallax thing would have  been really annoying. 

Bruce at the The OD says he rarely missed shots with Mamiyas due to parallax, however from my own point of view, I still do it with the SW, so I cant see it stopping anytime soon!

So, the hunt went on. I made enquiries about getting the T overhauled, and it seemed to approximate to £180, and no guarantee over the longevity of the rubber speed/aperture bands [If you're a camera restorer, I can really recommend for ALL rubber bits (older, pure rubber that is) a product by the French Welly manufacturer Aigle; it is called Swipol. All their boots are the highest quality rubber and Swipol suits pure rubber - this being said Bruce says he uses silicone spray on his car hoses (I had no idea such a thing was available). But anyway, Swipol. I've used it on Vulcanite (lightly) and it has been very good indeed.]

And then I decorated some more, and you know what - the feeling of G.A.S. went away and I came to think that really, maybe I had enough cameras - 13 serious ones at last count! - and I really should be making do with what I have. Phew.

Make Do
Hasselblad 500C/M, 40mm CF/FLE Distagon, Ilford HP5+

Been a loooong time coming.

This being said I can still see myself with a Rolleicord - I haven't quite given up on that!

And that is the end of that little tale. The old adage still rings true - Caveat Emptor.

It is especially appropriate in this day and age where a lot of people have no idea what they are selling, or indeed, even whether it is fit for sale.

Over and out.

H xx

Consistency

Morning folks - it has been a while, I know, but Summer is a time for hanging about in the garden, reading, eating raspberries, y'know, that sort of languidity, but as the mornings are getting darker, I am getting back to a certain swing . . . so, without further ado - onwards!

Now, this may or may not prove interesting/dull however, if you're like me, and have a darkroom, you'll print a fair bit and probably (also like me) have boxes of:

a. Prints

b. Scraps

c. 'Work' prints

d. I'll do a better one next time

However fortunately (unlike dust bunnies, bags of documents to be shredded, receipts, bus tickets, etc etc) they don't breed when you're not looking at them; no, they sit, patiently, waiting to be admired, adored, framed, scanned or, most likely, tossed out in a fit of pique!

And whilst they're not exactly a problem, they become a problem of sorts.

Pigs, Piglets And Runts

I was brought up short by this recently when I had reason to find some prints to take to a Saturday morning 'portfolio' session at Dundee's DCA.

"Hmmmmmm" is what I said to myself as I waded through paper sizes ranging from 6 x 4" to 9.5 x 12" . . ."just where does one start?"

The majority of stuff was printed on 8 x 10" and a mix at that, of Resin and Fibre all from different manufacturers; however the finer looking prints were, to my eye, on the smaller paper sizes. 

I particularly liked a set printed on some really old Agfa MCC FB. It had a semi-warm look to the paper base and the gloss was JUST RIGHT. 

The only problem though, was that the paper size was 5 x 7" meaning that the images (all squares) were 11 x 11 CM, or approximately 4½" square. 

That is pretty tiny really, and all the more so when you consider that they were taken on one of the world's great optics - the Zeiss 38mm Biogon. 

They were also all shot on a tripod, with the film (Ilford FP4+) being carefully developed in Pyrocat-HD. 

There's no two ways about it, to my eyes this set-up produced a top class negative, with nothing being washed out, really good mids and shadow detail. 

The negatives printed dead simply at Grade 3, with little hand-wafting. 

Ideal is what I would normally say.

But then I printed them small.

Did I say small?

I meant to say dead small.

It seems a bit incongruous to me, that I take all that optical and image quality and condense it to sit proudly on a print not much bigger than yer oldy holiday snaps of yore, but with much less image space being taken up!

Bonkers actually.

These should be BIG prints and hung somewhere in my study, and yet . . . . 

There's something about small prints that I like.

Apart from being considerably cheaper to produce, a 5x7" has a nice tactile quality. Even nicer is the old whole plate size of 6.5 x 8.5".

Where 5x7" feels small in the hand, whole plate feels small but substantial, and in fact in a strange way and to my faculties, actually bigger than 8x10". I've no idea why that is, but it is a lovely format, though very short on choices of paper.

Anyway, all this tomfoolery highlighted something to me - I need to get my arse in gear and print a portfolio of decent images I am happy with on consistently sized paper.

It's no good having some 9.5 x 12s' some 8x10s', some 5x7s'. some 6x4s' all dotted about the place with images taken on 35mm, 645, 6x6, 6x7, 6x9 and 5x4 - it all looks too bitty, and, inconsistent.

So, self soundly admonished, that's a project for The Winter. 

I have a reasonable stock of fibre paper too, including a box of unopened Grade 2 Galerie and a box of Kentmere Matt (lovely stuff) from when Kentmere was still based in Cumbria.

So I could use that up, or, nail my trousers to the Fibre Only Mast, sell my kidneys and go all the same manufacturer - though my choices there are pretty much only Ilford MG, Grade 3 Galerie, Art 300, Bergger, Foma and possibly Adox - and that is it.

The old Agfa MCC fibre is wonderful stuff but I only have it in 5x7 - I would have happily printed everything on that. Adox's version isn't quite the same, but it IS a good paper.

In a world of choice, ye olde darkroom enthusiast is being painted further and further into a distant corner.

Of course, with the way energy is going over here, I might not even be able to turn the enlarger on . . . that takes me back to pre-enlarger days when I tried contact printing Rollei negatives using a sheet of glass and a snooded torch . . . yes, well, enuff said . . . .

Wish me luck.

Till next time, stop skipping and try hopping and jumping instead.

H xx