Wednesday, July 25, 2018

St Paul's Court?


Well, you'd better go and help him then hadn't you!

Yeah, I know, the old ones are the best ones aren't they in a non-Lovecraftian sort of manner.

Well, firstly an apology . . no regular blogging from me . . . but then a word from our sponsors (Mick and Dave)
. . . you know what they say . . .

"Summer's here and the time is right
 . .  for scraping off 130 years of wallpaper"

Oh yes, 8 layers deep and like trying to escape from Alcatraz with a teaspoon.
Anyway . . lack of photography due to much DIY.

Right, so what have we here . . .
Well, it's Dundee, you know, that place in Scotland, sadly the Drugs Death Capital of Scotland and also the Teenage Pregnancy Capital of Scotland too (according to recent depressing stats).
So what else have we got?
Is this really a place that is completely lost?
Well, no, not really, y'see, it's also home to vast amounts of creativity.
Honestly, there's stuff going on everywhere all the time; there's people beavering away at painting and printmaking and sculpting and drawing and writing and dare I say it photographing (really? WHO apart from me and Bruce?); we're big news in game programming; there's music and acting and dancing and graffitying; we've a multi-million pound waterfront development which has transformed a rather down-at-heel traffic ridden area into a super-duper traffic-ridden area.
And that's just scratching the surface - honest.

Oh, and we're also the place where the V&A have decided to construct their new and bold Museum of Scottish Design - and even then the Council have fecked it up by allowing a bog-standard cookie-cutter office block to be built right in front of it - you honestly couldn't make it up . . . .

Anyway, LOOK IT UP - lots about it online and it'll be opening this September.




St Paul's Court Portal


And what has that got to do with photography and St Paul then Sheepy?

Well, therein lies a tale.
Y'see, like a large number of cities throughout the UK, at one time in the not too distant past, Dundee boasted an almost medieval collection of Pends and Wynds and Closes - very akin to how York still is today (thank God for the foresighted purveyors of common sense in the York town fathers).
Dundee could have been it's equal, because it was even more medieval in its street layout. Buildings crowded in on each other, lanes ran around the back of buildings, and through buildings; dead ends came unexpectedly; pends led nowhere or somewhere; closes huddled together against the bitter cold wind that came in off the North Sea every Winter.
It was really something - honestly, you just need to check the old maps, which, with their earliest 'proper' start in the mid-1800's still showed the layout of a city that had grown around a prosperous deep harbour, all walls and gates and a firm link to a distant past.
And then a huge chunk of it was knocked down, which links nicely to me, because I've been doing my own metaphorical knocking down lately in the form of cultural vandalism:


Around 8 layers of perfectly stuck wallpaper.

The gold colour you see actually covers the whole of a chimney breast - I am wondering whether it is some sort of ground to stop soots and tars seeping through the brickwork.




I know it is shocking isn't it - there's worse pictures too.
I can't even begin to describe how hard this has been to do, both physically and emotionally - this stuff has been there for over 130 years. 
But you see the thing is, others before me have gone: 

"Ah yeah, EASY! We'll get this off!" 

And they really have tried, gouging great big craters through the offending layers, but have then discovered it required major efforts to do it, and so have then filled said craters with filler and then papered over the top. 
So not only am I having to remove old wondrously skilled and beautiful Victorian decorating (and priceless wallpapers) but I am also having to remove a large element of BODGE.

Underneath it all however, I have made discoveries - profound and moving; links back to the men of Dundee from the late 1800's. 
What sort of life did they have? . . . well,  judging by the comment below, tough.



Unknown Artist, Dundee, 1883



I'll translate for you:

William H ????, Painter
????????? Brown
2 Paid Off
on December 5th 1883

One wonders, how hard it must have been, heading home to your wife (herself probably working long, long hours in one of the Mills that filled the City) maybe staying in one of the ramshackle tenements in St Paul's Court, or Meat Can Close, or Horse Wynd and saying, "Wife, I've been paid off" 
And Christmas is only 20 days away.
You can hear the measly thin coal crackling in the grate. 
You can hear the weans crying for want o' meat.
Did the men say 'Och damn it!' and head to the pub and spend some of their last pay getting hammered on heavy and whisky?

Who knows. 
When I discovered this, I actually felt myself on the verge of tears. 
It was so Dickensian in a truly awful way.
The realities of Victorian Society really hit home. No welfare state, no safety net. If you've ever been as poor as a Church Mouse, you'll know how horrendous it is.
I guess that's why I felt complete affinity with the two painters.
But aside from that I also discovered this:



Unknown Artist, Dundee, C.1883


And as close as I can get to it, here he is rendered photographically. Well, not literally, this is Major Adolphus Burton of the 5th Dragoon Guards photographed during the Crimean War



Major Adolphus Burton


Obviously our artist wasn't able to fully complete the horse, but all the same, the detail, posture and hat (especially the hat) says to me that our artist had possibly done time in the forces . . maybe during Crimea . . who knows.
It's a great drawing though - the man had a talent that could have been developed had further education for all existed at the time . . . . 

Anyway, I felt (and feel) bad about my cultural vandalism, but then I do know remorse.

Sadly though, in this City, there's been little shown over the decades - oh yes, never ones to do things by halves, the powers that were (and be) at the Council decided that in the name of modernity, everything that smacked of olden times should be razed.
Goodbye Wellgate.
Goodbye Overgate.
Goodbye Hawkhill.
Goodbye vast areas of Industrial Heritage.
Goodbye walls and wynds and pends and mills.
Goodbye countless chimneys and tenements and hovels and lanes.
 . . and hello new build.
Mind you to be fair to current Council planners, the City has a history of it going right back to pre-Victorian 'improvements' like opening up North/South streets through an East/West layout that had grown parallel to the river . . . 
The thing was though, some of the old stuff clung on like shit on a stick, ah East Whale Lane and West Whale Lane - and many more beautiful names that shone a light on heritage. New road needed for larger amounts of traffic? No problem . . goodbye West Whale Lane . . . East still survives though.

Tay Rope Works for instance  - it has been empty for at least 15 years, but in its environs ropes were made for the countless ships constructed in the once busy docks of Dundee . . ships like Captain Scott's proud ship (click this link >>) RSS Discovery, Dundee's cultural figurehead. The Rope Works, if refurbished with some money and vision and love, would be a fantastic tie-in with the Ship and (click this link >>) The Verdant Works
So what is happening to this lynch-pin between Cultural and Industrial Heritage and Tourism? Yep, getting demolished to fucking make fucking way, for more fucking flats.
Yes, people have to live somewhere, but buildings with a rich history like this are such easy pickings . . when all it takes is thought and vision.

You get my drift - there's danger in modernity.
Too much is easily dismissed as old and in the way and not worth saving.

They're also  currently thinking about unleashing a shit-storm on the delightfully named Mary Ann Lane next to Dundee bus station. OK, there's nothing there save a few lockups and industrial things, but . . who was Mary Ann?
She'll be gone soon, and all because the expected thousands of visitors that come to see the new V&A will not be allowed to see how Dundee has been for decades - run down, with heart and needing a lot of TLC.
The cities fathers seem embarrassed by it.
"It" being the once proud cultural and industrial heritage of the City.

And that's where today's blog comes in.
As you get off a bus at the Seagate Bus Station and have maybe decided to take a wander up to the city centre along the Seagate, a visitor to Dundee will be struck by what a total complete and utter mess the Seagate is.
Traffic, neglected buildings, eateries, pubs, pawnbrokers, empty shops, pedestrians and junkies.
It is, believe it or not really something.
The street's claims to fame are lovely (!) -  being one of the most polluted streets in Scotland (can you imagine typhus replacing Carbon Monoxide . . . hello olden times!) as well as being the birthplace of the poet Robert Browning's mother . . .
My father-in-law often sings
"I was born in the Seagate . . . "
because he was . . .
It could be so much more - there's a couple of really beautiful buildings, the best of which used to house the old Seagate Gallery, but now houses Arkive on its ground floor and another bunch of completely neglected floors above.
It needs sorted before large chunks of it start falling on cash-wielding visitors . . 
Hello . . can anyone hear me?
But it gets worse.
To one side of Arkive is a pend, which goes right through the building and into a Close at the back . . as far as I can tell, this is St Paul's Court, but it is hard to tell - modern OS gives me nothing, so a search of the old 1871 OS sort of reveals it, but the layout has changed a fair bit. What gave it away for me though is that it is the next pend along from Horse Wynd (which you can't see on this cropped map, but you can explore on this link HERE)


Dundee Seagate, circa 1871
Interesting to see that the metho-ads are shitting on people's graves.


The pend though has another, far more ghastly name to me:

Shitters' Court

It is often surprising coming across human excrement. it's generally a lot larger than you expect, especially when uncoiled onto cobbles, but in St Paul's Court you'll find plenty . . .  and not only that, probably a lot less than a quarter of a mile from the new V&A.

Welcome to Dundee!

Y'see the close is a dumping ground (quite literally) of methodone addicts.
And why not?
Methodone causes unexpected evacuations amongst other things and when you gotta go, you gotta go. You're banned from the bogs of all the pubs in the area, you're going to shite yersel'  . . up a close and on with the show.
Don't forget to dump yer soiled pants there too.
Oh yes, photographing in St Paul's Court is a delicate art of balancing oneself and one's tripod . . and also getting the Detox out on the rubber feet of the tripod and soles of your shoes when you get home.
That's why I was pleased with the above and the below.



Do Not Feed

At one end of the Court, is a large collection of buildings containing what appears to be loading areas for some of the businesses on the Seagate and the Murraygate, but access is denied by the security portal we can see above . . . and who can blame them for putting it there.
It does look rather grim though don't you think - however, despite all the ghastliness, I rather like what has been captured!

As I have gone on using the Hasselblad SWC/M I have come to a conclusion - it really is an ideal lens for subjects from around 3 feet to 12 feet - it somehow really excels, putting everything firmly in its place and rooting your subject matter right into the scene.
The lack of distortion is the greatest thing in the world on close-focus subjects.
As I have stated before I would love to take it into a derelict building and see what can be done . . . but sadly, they're all going at a rapid rate, fire-raising and councillers . . .  etc etc.
We even had a listed building "accidentally" razed to the ground in Dundee recently - just incredible.

Anyway, that's my rant over.
This is what?, late July 2018, the V&A opens in 2 months.
Never in a million years is this stuff going to get sorted short of being bulldozed . . but you don't want to do that, otherwise they'll be shitting in the streets.
Mind you, if you market it properly, maybe people will think it is some sort of installation . . . .

As an ammendum to this, I was sitting in my car in Gellatly Street the other day, mid-day actually, and this wee shakey jake came along - you know when you are learning to drive and you kangaroo hop the car because of your ineptitude with the gears? Well, this bloke was like a mild form of that. He had a rucksack, vanished into St Paul's Court, was in there for about 8 minutes, and came out adjusting his belt and jittered off to some unknown destination.
Fortunately it is a long hot summer .  . the flies and heat will see to that in no time.

Don't let me put you off visiting - the V&A is a beautiful and visionary building (and hopefully institution . . oh boy would I love to get the SWC/M inside on a lovely misty early Summer's morn . . .) 

Culture can't be bulldozed into place though, it takes time and subtlety, hard work and love.
Above all else love.

RIP the two Dundee painters from the 1880's - I hope life was easy on them.

Friday, June 08, 2018

Dark Lochnagargh!

Warning - lots of reading and plenty of photos - if you are fine with that, please continue, if not, well I am sure there's plenty of other distractions out there.
But if you don't mind reading a bit and seeing some scenery . . welcome to Scotland!

Well there I was, egg on my face and an itch in my soles to put some miles in.
It's an urge y'see - the need to thrash one's body with a day out hauling heavy weights into the wild . . also commonly known as hillwalking!
Or in my case, pshaw . . . lightweight gear? Och no . . a day in the wilds with (usually) a bunch of camera stuff.
There's no two ways about it, I am a masochist.
I never seem to learn.
But the thing is, it's enjoyable; you get really hot, your heart thunders like a train for hours, and you'll get soaked (inside and outside your clothes) scorched, dehydrated, hungry; you'll become tired, elated, alive, exhausted and full of beans, all in a space of hours.
Add in the final element, THE UNKNOWN, and you have a recipe for a life-enhancing experience that helps you deal with the commonplace, every day, 9-5.
Well that's how I see it.

My companions on this trip were (I know, I know it IS a bit mad, but I'd rather be prepared than wish I'd bought something along):

Hasselblad 500C/M
Hasselblad 150mm Sonnar + Hood
Hasselblad 60mm Distagon + Hood
Hasselblad SWC/M + Hood (Shared with the Distagon)
Gossen Lunasix S (with spot attachment)
Hasselblad Quick Release (attached to Arca plate)
Gitzo GT3530S CF Tripod
Arca B-1 Ballhead
Panasonic digicam
Jerven Fjellduken (basically a cross between a poncho, cape and bivvi bag - a weird Norwegian lifesaver)
Kata HB-205 Backpack
Water
Lunch
Whistle
Map
Compass
Emergency Knife
Spare Paracord
Cable Ties
Blister Treatment Stuff
Buffalo Special 6 Shirt (does away with the need for layers - just wear next to skin like a cross between a shirt and a jacket. Beloved of UK Special Forces it has seen me through more shite weather than I can tell you.)
Lowe Mountain Cap
Polyprop Beanie
Pertex Mitts
Wrist Gaiters
Rohan Uplanders (trousers)
Wool Headover
UV Buff
Double Socks
Altberg Defender Boots

Anything else?

Oh yeah . . me.

I know that looks like a lot of stuff - obviously I was wearing the clothes (but not all the emergency stuff) but to be honest you prepare for trips into the wilds (albeit only 5 or 6 miles from a Ranger station) because you just never know.
This is Scotland after all and Winter might have started to go (it was the start of April I did this walk) but it can still rise up and bite you in the bum - the old (well, it's quite new actually) saying always rings in my head:
Fail to Prepare, Prepare To Fail.
I have often been astonished by people up mountains wearing jeans, tee-shirts, trainers and a light jacket - the weather can turn on a sixpence and a sunny day become cold and wet in an instant.  
By not wearing and carrying the right gear, and at least having a modicum of COMMON SENSE with regard to what you are doing,  you're being SOCIALLY IRRESPONSIBLE.
Y'see, what happens (should it all go shit-shaped) is that Other People have to come and find you.
Speak to any Mountain Rescue person and they'll tell you that being ill-prepared in the mountains can kill.

Anyway, surprisingly, everything just fitted into the Kata pack. Phew!
It was designed for the broadcast industry, but it does a large MF kit pretty well, and, above all else, the harness and shoulder system are super-comfy!
Oh and it is very well protected - formed padding at the bottom, top and sides - it also keeps out rain surprisingly well (as I was to find out later)!
Anyway, this is the kit:


Tripod, Bag, Cameras . . . Fjellduken


Cosy Hasselblad Nest.
500C/M (And Film Back) On Bottom, Accessory Tub To Right Of It
SWC/M (And Film Back) Vertically To Right
Distagon and 150mm Lens Hood On Left, Film Above Them
Light Meter In Central Portion
Wide Angle Hood and Panoramic Adapter, Top Right Corner


Fjellduken In Its Stuffsack- It's A Bit Bulky
This Packed Into One Of The Pockets On The Pack.
If You were Caught In A Storm, This Would Save Your Life.
***Issued To Norwegian Armed Forces***

Arca Plates Too Expensive?
Too Many Hasselblads?
Attach Old Hasselblad Q/R To An Arca Plate And You Have A Universal System
For All Your Hasselblad Needs.

*** No Tittering At The Back ***




Who'd Have Thought You Could Have Done All That From One Simple Sheet Of Nylon?
I Can Justify All This Silliness From The Point Of View That If It Could Potentially Save My Life In Extreme Conditions, Why Question The Look.
© Photographs courtesy Varusteleka in Finland - One Of The Greatest Army Surplus Shops In The World

Anyway, ONWARDS!
It doesn't look too bad does it . . it WAS a bit difficult handling the bench at altitude though . . .
The pack balances surprisingly well, and the tripod was carried in my hand as it is light and not as heat-drawingly icy as my old metal Gitzo - what a difference! I have a Zing neoprene pouch to cover the Arca simply because it is a precision instrument and is better off without the stray scree and rain that being exposed might provide.
Anyway, enough of this, Bachnagairn I thought. It's a wooded area a good few miles away from anywhere (in a Southern part of the Cairngorms National Park - more about the park by clicking this link) and on a route up a Munro or two, those being Broad Cairn and Cairn Bannoch - you can also, if you have the legs, get over to Loch Muick which huddles under the long dark shadow of the mighty Lochangar - a proper, serious mountain . . . not that all mountains aren't serious places, just that this is imposing and not a bit frightening when viewed from the Broad Cairn side of Luch Muick.
Here it all is on a OS.


We start at the Blue P (Lower Right),
Walk 4 Squares Up And Two To The Left,
Then 1-And-A-Bit Squares Up To Corrie Chash . . .
And Back!
The Blue Line Which Delineates The Edge Of Each Square Equals 1 Kilometre (Left Or Right, Up Or Down).



The thing I would say about the walk to Bachnagairn is, you are lulled into a false sense of security by the relatively easy going at the start - wood and grass (a deviation from the long forest track of years back since the bridge was washed away - though it has now been rebuilt - the forest track is still punishingly shite) but getting increasingly boggy, till you're on lost tracks amidst peat and rocks (opposite Moulzie farm) and then you get back onto a landrover track which goes on for quite a way till it gets rockier and rockier.
This is not a place for footwear for the casual walker - it needs something heavy-duty.
Imagine a river bed full of stones.
There.
Easy, yes?
Now remove the water.
Got that?
Good.
Now you can imagine what the 'path' is like. It's rough and relentless full of stones of all shapes and sizes, and I actually think it could well have been a glacial runoff at some point, until millenia of erosion created the river, the South Esk, which flows fast and clear from these peaks. 
The path slowly ascends (for around 3 and a half to 4 miles) some 900 feet. I found that surprising when I got it on the OS site, but tis true and bloody feels like it actually! Add in your camera gear and water and it's a good workout.
Anyway, I got there - had a wee breather in amongst the pine and heather and bog, marvelled at how the river (mountain run-off . . and lots of it) had gouged a tight, deep canyon through the stone over millenia.
The river starts it's downward course just below Craig Of Gowal as Burn Of Gowal.
Gowal (Gobhail), in gaelic parlance, sort of means fork or junction or possibly like a pair of legs akimbo, so I am sure if you can imagine a mountain with its legs akimbo and a powerful course of water issuing forth . . well, all I can say is that the locals who had to provide pointers to the original map makers of the OS must have had a little fun for perpetuity!
Anyway, from there, I ascended another 770-odd feet in over just around 1 and a quarter miles - well, put two and two together . . .
Chuffin' Steep is what I'd call it, but I wanted to get to the delightful Allan's Hut.
It's called a hut but actually, it is a rough stable/shelter for mountain ponies which are still used in these parts. Sadly there were no ponies there this time - just the hut and a nice bench and views of Lochanagar in the distance and Broad Cairn close by.
The last time I had sat on the bench was 12 years ago, and at that time all I was carrying was the Rolleiflex and The Screamin' Chimp (a tripod) - incredibly lightweight stuff, but then I needed it for a 14 mile round circuit down to Loch Muick and back along The Capel Mounth. Could I do it these days? Well with lighter boots, quite possibly. Doesn't half shag you out though!

Anyway. look we've walked all these miles together and we haven't even had a tea and pee break yet.

I have been a little remiss and not told you about the dalliance I had halfway to Bachnagairn on an island in a river, but I didn't want to spoil the tension.
So, OK here's the full journey, there and back in two sets of contact prints. The first was taken with the SWC/M, the second with the 500 C/M with the 150mm Sonnar.


Hasselblad SWC/M, Ilford Delta 400 (EI200), Pyrocat-HD


Hasselblad 500 C/M/Zeiss 150mm Sonnar, Ilford FP4 (EI80), Pyrocat-HD

Sorry, what was that at the back Jones 1?

You what?

EH?

Erm? Oh yes, the missing bit in the first contact print?

Erm . . .well, y'see . . . . 

I only went and forgot to take the bloody lens cap off under the shadow of Dark Lochna . . gargh!

I think you could have heard the screams over in Banchory actually - I could certainly hear them echoing back from Lochanagar!
Anyway, with the SW the solution is simple - treat use of the camera like you would a LF camera - check everything twice before using.
This being said though, I wouldn't have left the lens cap at home even with a filter on the lens, simply because you can never have enough protection for a chunk of scratchable glass.

I was so pissed off with myself, that I took a picture of Allan's Hut, (by hand and full of camera shake) packed the SW away, harumphed and stomped like a big baby, walked to Corrie Chash, had a bloody good look at Loch Muick, all elegant and deceptively easy to get to. Got fed up again and decided to save my energies for the woods at Bachnagairn.
I did however, make an executive decision that because I was using the SW, I'd take no wide pictures with the Distagon, and instead use only the 150mm Sonnar. 
This proved to be a good decision.

The 150mm is the cheapest lens you can buy for a Hasselblad. Don't let that put you off - OK, mine is a later CF version, but for VFM it is one of the world's greatest optical bargains.
For a start, everything just looks so beautiful in the VF with it - seriously. The out of focus areas are a melding of softness and an extreme transformation of light that makes you want to look at it all day.
And then there's what it does in the translation.

OK, so we're on our way home now then - see, that wasn't too bad was it - you don't even smell like a wet sheep yet!
Anyway, our walk in prints. All made by me, in my guerilla darkroom, with paper and chemicals.
I suppose you could call them test prints as I've done them on RC as opposed to something nice and fibre-y, but they turned out well, so if I don't get a chance to print them for perpetuity, at least I will have copies . . . Oh and where you read Dektol, it isn't powder Dektol, just liquid Polymax, which is, apparently, the liquid version.
I'll also do a bit of talking under each picture, if you don't mind, just so's you don't get confused.

The first lot were all taken with the 150mm Sonnar.


The Famous Hut Of Allan.
The Hills Behind Surround The Walk Home.

A bog standard 'portrait' of The Hut. 
1/8th, f32. Shadows on ZIII. MLU, Cable Release and Tripod.
Straight print, no burning or split trouser printing. Ilford MGRC Pearl, Grade 3, Kodak Dektol.


Consequences Of A Winter's Storm.


The bleaching of the branches was such that I had to take a picture of them.
1/4, f22. Shadows on ZIII. MLU, Cable Release and Tripod.
Straight print, no burning or split sauce printing. Ilford MGRC Pearl, Grade 3, Kodak Dektol.



The Woods At Bachnagairn


I prayed for a roll of colour film at this point - sadly I had none. In colour it was truly astonishing. I chose 1/30th because I didn't want smokey water, nor frozen in time, I just needed some movement. Unfortunately the bit above the lowest run is visually disturbing, but the Sonnar has imparted, I think, an air of old-timey-ness to this, to the extent that it could have been taken in 1918, not 2018.
1/30th, f22. Shadows on ZIII. MLU, Cable Release and Tripod.
Straight print, no burning or split brain printing. Ilford MGRC Pearl, Grade 3, Kodak Dektol.


The Woods At Bachnagairn 2


Could have done with a tad more exposure.
You could spend all day taking pictures of the runs of this river. I was stood midstream to take this.
1/30th, f22. Shadows on ZIII. MLU, Cable Release and Tripod.
Straight print, no burning or split Groundhogs printing. Ilford MGRC Pearl, Grade 3, Kodak Dektol.


Consequences Of A Winter's Storm 2


I was heading back and I saw this at the side of the South Esk - some hell of a storm run-off had deposited it and it reminded me of the bones of a mythical creature of some sort. The sun was out and I really wanted to isolate it. Amazingly this picture is at f5.6 and 1/500th. You might not get it from the scan, but the print has a 3-dimensional quality I've not really seen before. That is the magic of the 150mm. 
It's sharp as a, well, sharp thing.
1/500th, f5.6. Shadows on ZIII. MLU, Cable Release and Tripod.
Straight print, no burning or split milk printing. Ilford MGRC Pearl, Grade 3, Kodak Dektol.


And then we get onto the SWC/M - again, comments underneath (if that is alright with you):


River Place


I liked the shapes of the pools on this island in the South Esk. Sadly the horizon is well off, which I find visually disturbing - och well, there's always next time!
1/15th, f22. Shadows on ZIV, Cable Release and Tripod.
Straight print, no burning or split (ting headache) printing. Ilford MGRC Pearl, Grade 3, Kodak Dektol.


Old Bones Of Trees And Stones


This was taken on an island in the middle of the South Esk. I was 'attracted' by the way the tree's reflections mixed with the striations of the rock. It clearly shows how the Biogon handles things delicately. I can't quite define it, but delicate is definitely the word I would use.
1/15th, f22. Shadows on ZIV, Cable Release and Tripod.
Straight print, no burning or split those loons again? printing. Ilford MGRC Pearl, Grade 3, Kodak Dektol.


Big Balls (Of Rock)


Yep, these were two boulders, around 9 feet tall each of them. The SW was right inbetween their gap and I liked the play of light on the hills. You encounter glacial deposits all over this region - it is just like they've been dropped from the air - goodness knows how many thousands of Winters these stones have seen, or how many weary travellers have rested in their lee.
1/125th, f22. Shadows on ZIII, Cable Release and Tripod.
Straight print, no burning or split dates printing. Ilford MGRC Pearl, Grade 3, Kodak Dektol.


Quiet Pool In A Quiet Wood


Absolutely my favourite photograph from the whole day and the last one taken too.
One doesn't like to blow one's own trumpet, but from a personal point of view, it is, I think, my most favourite landscape photograph I have ever taken. The camera was dead level btw - any leaning trees are leaning trees!
1 Second, f22. Shadows on ZIII, Cable Release and Tripod - Hat Used As Rain Cape.
Straight print, no burning or split (ah yeah, at last!) GRADE printing. Ilford MGRC Pearl, Grade 3, Kodak Dektol.
It had started raining an hour before, slightly at first, but if you've ever been in the Scottish mountains you'll know that such rain can quickly soak everything. Fortunately I wasn't too far from tree cover at that point, but drip-lines under trees are just that. 'Modern' conifer plantations are too densely planted to walk through comfortably, so you have to stick to the drip-line. 
It gets pretty soggy pretty quickly
I'd spotted this pool on my way out and was determined to compare the SW with the Sonnar, but as you can see from the Sonnar contact, I misjudged reciprocity and underexposed (mainly because the rain was falling quite heavily and I didn't want to get anything soggier than it was already).
Fortunately for me, the SW version came out great.
It shows to my mind, perfectly, the way the Biogon handles fine detail. Remember this is a 400 ASA film! 
I was super-close to the pool, water was falling on me and the camera, but I dunno, the camera has captured that indefineable 'something' one always searches for in a photograph. 
The eagle-eyed might well spot a peculiar triangular lump of trees in the top-right corner . . . this is some Bushcraft persons' shelter, minus the person.

And that's it all really folks - hope you have enjoyed yourselves.

I headed off as storm clouds gathered over the hills - the tops became enveloped and obscured with mist and snow and in the glens the rain got heavier and heavier - I made it just in time. Phew!

So, an hours' journey to get home along lonely roads with farmhouses huddling down in the dreich afternoon; I unpacked, set cameras and bag to dry; boots hosed down, with newspaper stuffed inside; my sweaty clothes peeled off; I jumped in the shower, had a mug of coffee and a Blue Riband, and then sat tight and waited for tea time. 
I was hoping it would be something lovely and delicious. 
My missus was doing the cooking, and it was.

TTFN - remember, these boots were made for walking, and that's just what they'll do . . . one of these days . . . you might be a decrepit old git and unable to lift your legs thus rendering you a sedentary lump in the middle of the common room, slowly becoming covered with the detritus of an old folk's home; till all that is left is the husk of who you were, covered with bits of other people's skin, particles of food, false-teeth impressions, elastic stockings, incontinence pads, tufts of hair, and a lone, creaky voice, asking 'Are We There Yet?'
Carpe Diem Folks, Carpe Diem!

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Close Enough For Murder

Well there I was, a dental appointment and nothing more to do than walk home, so I planned ahead, took the SW and thought I'd have a go at getting really close, as in . . 

Da-Da . . 

Close Enough For Murder . .



Gee Boss - You're SO Handsome



I know, it is a bit stupidly dramatic is that statement, but well, with the above I really was close, as in the minimum I can focus with the SWC/M
I was also at pavement height and given it has an eye-level viewer, I had to trust the lens scale and so on. You can actually see the reflection of the lens hood in the bottom of the photograph - it is the dark object in the central third - that's because it was rested against a window, and the camera canted up to take in this awful poster on a BT shop window! 
Incredibly (to me) this was taken handheld at 1/15th and f16 . . . no cable release. 
On the lens scale on the SW this gave me a hyperfocal guesstimate (at this distance) of between just under 12" (0.3 m) and 14" (0.35 m) . . . so, 2.5 inches to get it right!
Personally, I don't think any other lens in the world could have done it as well.
I'm not sure what it is I like about it either . . .
Is it the fact that her tombstone teeth match the jambs, mullions and transoms of the reflected windows?
Is it that she looks more pleased than a very very pleased person?
The way the chap appears to be floating in clouds?
Or is it the way her hair has been rendered?
Whatever, this is a scan from an actual print, which was onto Ilford MGRC Pearl, developed in Kodak Polymax. 
I like the tonal qualities a lot.

But on with the main thing - so there I was, fresh and clean, scraped to within an inch of my gums and in Dundee City Centre . . . I walked up Reform Street, avoided the rowing junkies, past the boozers in The Counting House, turned left into Ward Road, popped into The Howff (an ancient city graveyard dating back to medieval times) but decided there was nothing there for me, so I popped out, headed along Ward Road again, and I took some pictures.



This Is A Contact Print


It lasted literally 30 minutes and I had finished the whole film; it sort of looks it too, with little regard to composition, just on-the-fly snaps, all centred around the old BT building, which takes us up to frame 4.



Ugh, Sisters Are, Ugh, Doin' It For, Ugh, Themselves, Ugh


I am not sure what it is that I dislike about these horrible window posters.
Is it their cheesy grins?
Is it the whole 'empowered sisterhood' thing that is so cleverly and endemically marketed for women these days?
I dunno, but by frame 5 I had had enough and moved on to more posters advertising BT TV stuff.



Hmm, Ward Road . . . Very Interesting!


And in frame 6, well who's that peeking out at us?
Yes, it is the great Scots actor James McEvoy - I know he's got to live, but superhero films from the man from State Of Play and The Last King Of Scotland?
C'mon James, you can really act man!



The BT Portal


Anyway there I was contorted and squatting and attracting the attention of a lazy security bloke, so I decided enough was enuff and off I went, only to spot the weirdness of frame 9. 
It was like a warped Universe all in one spot:
Football 
TV 
"Legends" 
"A Different World"
And light reflecting from over the way, though to be fair, I didn't even know it was there till I developed the film and found it on my shoulder, like a bluebird of happenstance . . .
This is my second favourite of all of them - it's a basic reflection photo, but there's a lot going on and the semi-opaque window frosting has added an air of otherworldliness to the photo . . well it has to my eyes anyway.
Anyway, fed up of being stared at like a freak with a strange box, I packed up and headed towards home and some more traditional shots.


Old Mills Die Slowly


Frame 10, and the entrance to a mill, vandalised nicely.
There's a grey message sprayed across all four doors that looks to me like an overlay on the negative - that's weird as well. 
I was close to the doors - less than 6 feet (!) - and I slightly canted the camera - you can see that at the left side in the verticals - it makes things a little 'off', but I like it anyway.
Dundee used to be full of old mills, but they are disappearing at an alarming rate now - it is a crime - cultural destruction of the same sort as happened in the Middle East only this time by men in suits bunging handy backhanders . . .
It isn't as bad as what happened in the 1960's but it still shouldn't be happening - you'd think, in 50 years, we would have learned something.



Anytown USA? Nah Mate - It's Dundee



And finally my final shot of the day and third favourite. The sunlight was incredible - it was so good it wasn't even Scotland - reminding me of the light gifted to some of the great 60's US landscape photographers. 
The place was at the junction behind The Verdant Works carpark. 
If you're ever in town, go and visit it - it is a Mill, and has been semi-restored to give the full history of Jute and it's place in the rise and fall of Dundee - money well spent in visiting it - it's outstandingly interesting.
So there I was, like a primed mullet, teetering on a wall, stared at by drivers and nosy-parkers (geddit?). 
I got my verticals about right and snap - 1/125th at f16. 
It is razor sharp.

And feeling very smug, that was it - another 15 minutes to get home, but I was pleased at how intuitive the camera had been to use.

So where does that leave us in Part Three of this exploration of the Hasselblad SWC/M? 
Well . . . if you have the money, or have robbed some grannies of their life savings, and are in two minds, I would say (if you're sure you can handle the fact that you really have to re-think your approach to everything, and don't mind not being able to see what you are truly doing) go for it
Get one
Even if only for a few months if you don't get on with it - it does make you think. It isn't a camera to be taken lightly - it forces you to concentrate on the photo-making process in much the same way a Large Format camera does, except this doesn't necessarily need a tripod, or dark slides, or a dark cloth, or a mule . . . 

And that's all until the next episode, where many miles are walked and a schoolboy error renders a bunch of frames useless.

Oh, and remember, Bingo starts at 5.30 sharp. There's tea and biccies too, and if you are very lucky Michael (remember him?) is coming back with some more sounds of the 60's - he's got Pet Clark records and everything!

Shitbangers . . where did I put my Small Faces CD?