V for Victor (Frankenstein's Hasselblad)

OK folks - 'scuse the rather strange title - I was going to call it "Channeling Fay Godwin", but decided against it . . and why? Well I rather like the above . . oh . .  and I've also bought a Hasselblad.

I know, you're weeping and clutching your heads and saying:
'No Sheephouse! Not another fecking camera . . . '
Well folks I make no excuses.
However I will switch on the Corm-Thrusters and whisk you back in time . . .
Back . . . Back . . . to A Time!
A Time when the Iron Lady ruled the country and your humble, lonesome writer stumbled out of the Art College doors with a degree in his hand and the words "Shit - I've got to make a living!" being spat from his ugly gob.
A Time when your hero would stand and stare at Zenza Bronicas in Jessops window, thinking, if only I had one of them, things would be different.
A Time when the word Hasselblad was whispered into his ear at night by the ghosts of those old photographic legends, desparate to see another lover of silver-based photography take to the international stage.

But sadly, the truth will wring your withers, for, rather than being asked to print exhibition folios for all sorts of well-known photographers (such was my ambition), rather than striding the hills of his chosen country photographing light and land (I could truly see myself doing it) and being poorer than a church rat, your hapless Sheephouse blundered deeply into the mire that is unrewarding but paid employment, and with that, his ambitions and love of the monochrome print were carefully filed away, until a chance conversation with his brother and the love and encouragement from his wife Ali brought the young photographer back out of his cave and into the light of day again, dusting him down and setting him on a path that has led to (amongst other things) this blog.
It's all about film.
It's all about printing.
It's all about the print as a physical, tangible, exquisite reflection of the briefest of moments of light captured for posterity.

I'll not bar any holds - I have too many cameras now - even medium format ones:

Rolleiflex T (broken - possibly repairable)

Minolta Autocord (working, knackered and seen better days)

Koni Omega Rapid 100 (perfect, fully serviced, working condition, but never gelled with)

So why on earth do I need another one?
 Well, like I say, it's that young photographer's fault, because I always wanted one, but never had the money, and then never had the inclination. Now, however, with my fervour for making the most of the light whilst I still can see something I want one.
Or shall I say I wanted one.
Real bad.
It was like that itch inside your plaster-cast when you were 14.
It had to be scratched, but like all good things it took time to get to it.
Time and saving.
Och, all right, and a little pauchling here and there.
No excuses - I've been a saver all my life, but sometimes you have to weigh in the old calculations and realise that (in my case) you're not getting any younger and are you really prepared to wait another year to save up for it, when even now the prices on these things are clmbing.
So pauchling it was and a chunk saved by me and now a payback to the fund I borrowed it from.
But is it worth it?
Hell yes!
It's exciting. This is the second most large amount of money I have ever spent on myself (not including the car and the mortgage). The largest was a custom built Paul Reed Smith Custom 24 guitar back in 1990. It has proved to be a fine instrument and also a fine investment having approximately tripled its value in that short 25 years.

But enough of my spending - you want to know about the 'Blad or the Hassy . . or in my case, VICTOR for that is the cameras new name, or me being me, just plain VIC.

Well I studied and studied and I sort of knew what I wanted - a nice 503CXi or 503CW. The 501CMs (the last incarnation of the Classic 500 Series) were way out of my league. I felt that a newer body would be the way to go and then maybe economise and get a slightly old C series lens.

This went arse over tit when I found a nice, boxed 500CM body on ebay with a 'make an offer' price. It had been regularly serviced and was last checked over by Hasselblad UK in March of this year. It was sounding good and didn't look hammered, so I made an offer, which was accepted. On speaking to the vendor I got the history of VIC. The vendor bought a 500CM in 1980, and then VIC from Robert White's in 1985 (£550 for the body alone!) and then, when they came out, a 503CX.

VIC remained as a second back-up body but stopped being regularly used in about 2004.

The vendor is a professional, so it was important to him to keep his gear in tip-top shape, and that's what he did. He's now moved over completely to digital so the old gear is going, hence my offer of £320 was accepted. The camera is in nice condition. yes it has been used, but it is smooth.

I am delighted.

VIC and his nest (non-matching)

Nice and clean

Un-Hammered

Very Tidy

As for the lens - well this was a thorny dilemma.

I knew now I could afford a lightly better lens so set myself on something from the CF range. These were introduced in the 1980's and featured a few changes (like moving from Synchro Compur to Prontor shutters).

I decided that having made oodles of square photographs with a standard 75mm lens on my Rollei T, something new was needed so opted to move into the world of Wide Angle MF, hence my choice of the venerable 50mm Distagon (non-FLE version).

This lens tends to get disparaged, however how can one deny these two photographs, both made with one.

So, some bidding and winning on eBay and the lens arrived - my goodness it was beautiful and big and heavy and virtually as new.

Coor!

COOOR!

Ooh, that's luverly innit?

CWOOOOOR!!!!!!!

However as soon as I opened the mint Hasselblad bubble I knew something was up - indeed my nose told me so. The Leica Sniff Test never lies. This lens was pristine, but it had fungus - shite - I got my torch and had a butchers and there it was on the rear element.

ARRGGHHHHHH!

AAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

Haze and fungus and an internal smear!

Was I annoyed - too bloody right and let this be a caution to all of you purchasing lenses off the internet. It might look mint and beautiful, but unless you can get a guarantee that it has been inspected internally, I would approach with caution!

I am becoming something of a fungal expert these days, so I will repeat again - sniff yer purchases - it's amazing what it will show. Yes, with older gear there will be some smell, but fungus is noticeably smellier - you can't miss it.

Anyway, the vendor was hugely apologetic - indeed he was very decent about it . . so, lens returned . . where did that leave me?

Well, in search of a new lens of course!

TBH the 50 Distagon felt really heavy, so that sort of gelled my thinking and I thought, well how about just using a 60mm Distagon for the moment. it's equivalent to a 35mm lens on a 35mm camera. The Distagon isn't as heavy in the 60mm form and is slightly less large . . .

The only problem I found was that the 60mm Distagons out there were expensive or hammered. I couldn't afford a newer CFi version, so it would have to be a CF. Given that these could be dating from the 1980's and would maybe have seen who knows what sort of life, I was a bit flumoxed. Then I read about CB lenses - a short-lived line (from 1997 to 2001) that never took off. According to the Zeiss literature, optically the 60mm was the same as the older CF and the newer CFi except it lacked full automation with an electronic camera. It still had improved baffelling, improved lens mount, smoother focus, identical glass, identical coating and was assembled in Germany on the same production line that produced the now famed Super Achromat! And yet, the line was regarded as 'cheap' and 'prosumer' - probably named as such by people who didn't compare the two Zeiss sheets for the CB and CF - both attached. 

Anyway, I looked around, and found one. £449 from Mifsuds! That was awful cheap considering Teamwork were selling one for over £700. So I badgered them, hauranged them, wanted desparately to know the condition, but was assured that they were super-picky in their grading so E++ could be relied on. Suitably calmed, I ordered it. And they were right.

It's still a heavy lens, but there is nothing cheap about it at all - the world looks beautiful through it, the focus is incredibly smooth, and everything works well from the DOF preview slider, through to the EV link (why do people complain about Hasselblad EV links on lenses? - using EV is about the easiest way of using a camera). The front of the lens is a 'stay black' material (carbon fibre?) which means it stays black when using filters, and the shutter has a really nice even buzz to it.

So that was another problem out of the way - what next? Ah yeah . . film backs!
I had initially thought I would go down the 645 route and chose a A16 back (16 frames on one roll of 120), however all the ones I saw were dog-eared and battered . . . so hunting around again, I came across a nice 'later' back (with the dark slide holder) non-matching body and insert with a 6 month guarantee at Ffordes, so I got that (£125) and whilst I was there, a nice condition UV Filter (£15) a Tripod Quick Coupler (£20) .. oh and a Bubble Level (£29 - always wanted one, even without a Hasselblad - they're so cute and useful). 

So suitably armed and checked and everything seemed to be OK, working together as it should.

Next step was to go and take some photographs . . 

Aha . . but I'm not going to let you off that easily - you thought I'd put it all in here didn't you! 

Well, nope - next time you'll see them, because, truth be told, this is current stuff and I haven't been out with the camera yet (well I have now, but nothing printed).

Anyway . . here he is. VIC - Frankenstein's Hasselblad.

TTFN - nuts, whole hazelnuts, Sheephouse takes them and he covers them with chocolate!

Il Buono, Il Matto e Il Cattivo - Parte 1.3

OR

HOW TO SPEND A HAPPY COUPLE OF HOURS NEXT TO 

A RIVER

Morning folks - fed up of the election yet? 

Remember a vote for Sheephouse is a vote for fair dealings and honesty, so I urge you to go and put your X in the correct box - we're fielding candidates all over the country - YOU KNOW IT MAKES SENSE.

Well, here we reach the happy conclusion of something started a while back - you can read about part 1 here . . . and part 2 here . . .

I'll let you get on with that if you haven't read them already, and for the brave and exhausted souls who have . . . on with the show! 

OK, so I'd been weathered off and decided that I simply must take some pictures, so I found a nice riverbank and did something I haven't ever done with a 5x4 camera - 

I parked myself. 

Wot's that Sheephouse? Parked?

Yeah, parked - dumped my rucksack, unpacked it, set up camera on tripod, attached LowePro bumbag to my bum and over the next two hours wandered up and down the riverbank taking pictures leaving rucksack where it was and packing/unpacking nothing apart from at the start and at the end. I made 8 photographs - this would normally have taken approximately 3 total hours of time were I having to pack up and move on every time, so essentially I shaved around an hour off of valuable time. 

Light waits for no man and I was alternating between astonishing, bright sunshine, heavy cloud and deep freezing shadows. The river was running fit to bust. The air was filled with clouds of water droplets all diamondy and wonderful in the sunshine. The noise was incredible and my soul flew. 

It was a pleasure which I can hardly describe. 

How wonderful not to have to think about packing up and moving on! Never done it before, but I will from now on. I dug deep into the landscape and felt that having the freedom to just wander about paid out in spades. If you are a LF photographer, please consider using this approach:

study your maps

pick a spot that looks good

PARK

and then have fun

It made all the difference to me.

Anyway . . . 

Right, well what have we here Sheephouse?

It's prints M'am innit.

Oh really?

Yes M'am . . . proper prints, made on proper paper and developed in proper chemicals. The paper, if you don't mind me telling you M'am, is some ancient Agfa Multicontrast Classic (or MCC if you like) - it's at least 10 years old and has lost about a Grade of sensitivity, however it doesn't appear to be fogging. The paper developer was Fotospeed - it is excellent and very fast, and then they were archivally fixed and toned in Kodak Selenium.

Really young man . . . that's jolly interesting.

Yes M'am, I agree

So, here they are as promised at the start of this lengthy process - film was the last of my well expired TMX 400 (when it cost £50 for 50 sheets) and some of my well-expired TXP 320 (when it cost £50 for 50 sheets). All were developed in 1:25 Rodinal at 21 Centigrade. Some of the negatives were sorely underexposed (because I'd knocked my meter and hadn't noticed) and I had to try and enhance the upper Zones by Selenium toning the negative - this works quite well actually.
The lenses were a 1980's Schneider 150mm Symmar-S and a late production Schneider 90mm Super Angulon. I like them both - they are superb lenses.
Camera was the Wista DX which is a superb companion and my tripod was the Gitzo Series 2 Reporter - it is ancient but operates as new - testimony to great engineering and build.


So, kick back, dip your bagel in your coffee and tell me what you think.

OK - the eagle-eyed will notice that is only 5 contacts . . well the other 3 were impossible to get looking right so I haven't included them, I have however printed one of them!

So now for the projection prints. All printed on my DeVere 504 through an ancient 150mm Rodagon.

This was actually bleached and then toned - unfortunately it was a bleach too far and it has given it this lith look. That being said a number of people have said they really liked it . . so there.

I like the tonality of this one - it did need a little bleaching, but I was careful and then toned in Selenium

This is a little section from the above - you can see how well the Super Angulon has rendered the water.

And finally . . . this is my favourite - it reminds me of John Blakemore.
It's hardly original, but I find it pleasing.
The thing that attracted my eye first was the reflection of the tree at the bottom of the frame.
Bleached selectively along the water's white and then Selenium toned.

And that folks is that - was it worth the wait? 
Only you can decide. 
LF takes a huge amount of effort, and sometimes I am not sure it is worth the effort, however with that last print, I can say to myself (as I wash up on the beach of emptied and dying LF photographers, spent before their time on the river of photography) 
"Yes . . . at least I think so."

TTFN - poiple pills - yum yum yum.

Leica Fanboy

Bold and italic and even bold italic alert

OK - I think I have probably held back long enough on this one, but it doesn't seem to be getting any better, so here goes.

Like a raw open wound, the art and hobby of photography has long been both a rich man's sport and something filled to the brim with disappointment. Really. You don't believe me? Well off you pop and have a word with yourself in that cupboard and then come back to me.

Is that better? Good.

Really, it is dead sad.

You know, when you look around you, our hobby/passion is littered with the broken dreams of:

"If only I had a such-and-such" 

and

"Oh for a Super f0.2! It would make my life so much easier" 

and

"I really want one of them . . . blah blah uses one, and I know they cost a lot of money, but if I get one of those I will take great pictures".

Does this sound familiar?

Thought so. The obsession with getting 'the best' in order to make your vision better is all too common, and a lot of the time, it doesn't even have to do with that. 

Obsessed with bragging rights a lot of photographers literally have to be seen to be carrying 'the thing', the latest and greatest, and sadly, in the case of Leitz, oldest, greatest/greatest, greatest camera and lens combo they can buy.

After all it's Leica, isn't it legendary?
Well yeah, natch, goes without saying! And the thinking seems to be that surely if you use it, some of the legend will rub off on you and you too can become a legend. Seriously - you are using a legend - ergo you are automatically a legend yourself - ergo your images are simply brilliant. 
Thus are Fanboys made. Like some weird form of possession, they come to eat, sleep, breath and just plain live for the marque to the point of total obsession. After all when God calls, would you want to be found wanting?
And from this come the reviews (done that myself), details, back-patting, testing, blogging, testing again and again and again.

Man, I thought I could be obsessive, but there's some real fruit-loops out there. You can find them under any picture sharing stone.

You know, there's another expression I heard recently: "All the gear, no idea".
Hmm, dontcha think it pretty much sums things up?
Really, when it comes down to it, isn't photography ALL ABOUT self expression and making your mark in the annals?
Isn't the camera JUST a means to an end to stop a moment in time?

Well I thought so, but looking around it often doesn't seem like that. 

I know I've mentioned this before, but it is like that stupid thing on Top Gear - the Cool Wall - I won't explain it as you've no doubt seen it, but basically it was a bunch of wee lads peeing up against a wall, except it was about cars - who can get the highest (fastest); who can splatter the most (biggest engine): who can miss dribbling on his shoes (bodywork) . . . you know . . . the sort of thing you thought you left behind when you were seven.

What we are seeing in photography at the moment amounts to the same thing - nothing to do with photography at all, just endless testing and re-testing, endless droning about bokeh and sharpness and just plain boring boring boring images being posted left right and centre.

I don't know about you, but it sucks the life out of my eyes, because it seems like the more money you have to spend on gear, the (mostly) more boring images the zombie photographer inside you is forcing you to take.

Goodness knows, some dullness is acceptable - it is part and parcel of the nature of the beast - but man does it get rammed down your throat, when in reality it should just have been kept under wraps. 

I suppose the ease of creating images these days has part to do with that too . . . tis a piece of cake to scan a bit of film and then show those results to the world, or upload some images to wherever, but I ask you this:

If you had a darkroom, would you truly have bothered to print them? 

Hmmmm - thought not.

It's this casual blaséness of snapping away and then parading the umpteenth picture of a pile of leaves that gets me.

Who cares?

Who's interested?

Not me.

 ***

Don't get me wrong, I love photography and I love photographing. I love seeing other people's GOOD photographs and for myself, I love seeing compositions in a viewfinder and wondering how it will look as a print or on screen, and I feel a real hunger to keep on doing that - to try and make something that is my own unique take on the world, and to maybe make people go "Gosh!"
I also love the gear - it can be seriously beautiful and is often a pinnacle of mechanical genius, and when I look around my small photographic world I see some people who are in love with photography too. They love all the things I love, and do all the things I do, but they are doing so in a relatively humble way. They're not testing or posting pictures of nothing, they are photographing their world.

I've a Sheephousian confession to make . . . I go to meetings. Wonderful, chatty, joyous affairs with maniacs like myself, all ex-Scottish Photographers. SP by the way (the original lot, not the Facebook group, or the new bunch with a website going under the same name), wasn't a camera club or anything of that ilk - it was and is a serious and utterly dedicated bunch of people who live to photograph. I can't put it in any better way.
These people exhibit, teach, create and generally pass on the baton.
Dedication is the thing.
It is really quite something.
Were I to draw a parallel, I would say it was almost like The Linked Ring, except we aren't really breaking any new ground, and we definitely aren't all moustachioed and done up to the nines in proper removable collars and brilliantine.
Nope, the one defining thing is hunger.
Even with a lifetime of photographing behind them, the need to make images and produce work is all there is. Take for instance Peter and Aase Goldsmith, a couple who have photographed their whole lives through and still in their older years are producing essays and books, prints and presentations. They live photography. Truly. Every time I meet them, there's new projects . . . whether it be a selection of prints made with their newly acquired Holga Panoramic cameras, through to wonderful handmade books, spiral bound, with pencil marks and hand annotation detailing something that was so important in their lives that they had to photograph it. One particular book was made with a knackered Leica III and a knackered Jupiter 35mm lens and it looked like nothing I had ever seen - it was exciting and beautiful and totally individualistic.

Isn't that surely the nature of photography?

To stop that 1/125th of second and permanentise it?

To say to others:

"Look at this. What do you make of that? Isn't that just an extraordinary and exciting and thrilling thing?"

To further stretch this already stretched point, last week I met Malcolm Thompson on the bus.

Malcolm is another person who has dedicated his whole life to photography, from photographing for a living through to running Studio M (a print and process studio) through to exhibiting regularly, through to teaching the craft of photography and printing at the DCA through to print sessions at same.

Dedication is the thing, because he still lives and breathes it, despite now living with Parkinson's Disease, and rather than focus on that (as most folks would) he sadly recounted that he had just sold his 5x4 as it was just taking too much out of him, and that he felt that was a real shame, but he still was in love with his Rollei SL66 and would continue using that, and that he was finding FP4 ridiculously expensive but had recently started experimenting with Fomapan. In other words, though Parkinson's is a terrible disease and is robbing Malcolm of his physicality, his photographic flame still burns as bright as anything I have ever seen.

***

I know that was a wee meander, but it is to draw a point.
Dedication, craft and a love of producing good images; a willingness to try the new, and retrench in the old if necessary, but above all the hunger to photograph the world, to inform, to present to others that which you find interesting surely has to be your whole raison d'être as a photographer.

Surely Shirley.

SHIRLEY?

Well, were I being naive I would say that is the case, however we move in strange times, and much as the same way my old hobby and love of guitar playing has been taken over by a billion marauding hordes with squidoons of cash to spend and not a clue what to do with the fucking instrument except post 'unboxing' videos on YouTube, the world of photography is sort of suffering the same fate.

Go on . . . I dare you.
YouTube.
Type 'Unboxing' and then your favourite camera.
Or the cracker . . the shutter/mirror movement/penny test.
Well?
Sad isn't it (I seem to be typing that a lot recently).
OK, I am ranting a bit now (what's new?) but I see people spending really considerable amounts of money on cameras and lenses and then going out and photographing the likes of this:

Or this:

Wait a minute, and as they used to say - Ayeee, carumba!
In the words of Aimee Mann:
"What a waste of gunpowder and sky"
Because those two 'photographs' were made with the same lens that made this:

Does that look familiar? 

Of course it does - its my old mate Ralph Gibson and the Leitz Dual Range 50mm Summicron - one of the greatest lenses ever made. A lens designed to make photographs and art and stunning images, now slapped on a digi-body and relegated to the new gladiatorial arena of 'testing'.

Look, just to over-egg the pudding, here's some stuff made with the lens that made Leitz famous - the 50mm f3.5 Elmar (obviously shoved on a digi-cam because they've cropped the proportions all wrong):

And this:

And then . . . there's this one:

Familiar?

Yep - it's me old mate HCB, and what a photograph!
It has everything in spades; tone, light, composition, timing - it is the utter antithesis of the two 'photos' above it. No lens testing here, just good ol' HCB, wandering around, waiting, waiting, then, making the likes of the above.
You see, that history is part of the problem (if you want to call it one) with the Leica -  sadly its caché and all the baggage it brings with it is so huge and almost archetypal that it is hard to get beyond it.
As a marque it has been responsible for some of the finest, most memorable, exquisite, exciting, beautiful, thoughtful and downright entertaining images EVER made, however every year I see less and less of them and more of the inane, banal, dull, bland, totally-lacking-in-vision 'testing testing 1, 2, 3' type.

When you think of what the system is capable, I think it is a fucking waste.
As an antithesis to the 'testing' pics above, look at this image made by Rax from Iceland:

I don't really need to say anything do I? It is right up there in the Leitz pantheon.
Ragnar (Rax) has a superb eye and is an all-round nice bloke to boot and if you like the above, it can be found in his superb book Faces Of The North, but the thing is, rather than standing around looking for the 'where's the leaves? testing-testing-testing' sort of image, he goes out and makes photographs. Ones you would want to hang on your wall or travel miles to see in an exhibition, and though he uses Leica I don't think he is too hung up on it - it is a tool to realise his vision, not an effet accessory.

***

Y'see (allied to the historic importance of the marque) is the Leica's perceived other-worldy qualities. There, I've said it, been there, done the worship thing, come out the other side, still in love but more aware.

There seems to be a perception that some of the magic will rub off on the user, and they'll be able to have some sort of prescient, all-seeing, magical vision bestowed upon them by the Gods of Light and Timing. That simply because Leitz lenses just 'are', anyone using one will automatically be inducted into the Leitz Hall of Fame.

In other words, simply by the act of owning a Summilux or a Summicron, YOU WILL BE GREAT.
Full stop.
No work required.

So the mania creeps in - testing central websites (you know who you are and you should be ashamed really for toting such shite where the object becomes more important than the end result); the need for the most expensive Leica objet d'art you can afford (or not). And then the hunting for subject matter (when there are photographs everywhere) and rather than training their eyes to see something that might make a decent photograph, they just go and snap at any olde shite . . . but remember . . .

It's got the glow! 

It's got the bokeh!! 

My 'Lux took this picture of some leaves by the light of one candle!!!

You know what I mean.

I do despair actually.

A photographer will do his or her best to make the most of what is available.

Granted it is wonderful to own some beautiful tools too . . . I am as bad as anyone from that point of view - my M2/Elmars/Canon set-up is a joy to me (and I've recently had the pleasure of geeing up confirmed SLR user Bruce at The Online Darkroom into enjoying using a rangefinder, and he's enjoying it because he is a photographer) but I spent my formative photographic years operating an Olympus OM10 with the standard Zuiko 50mm f1.8 (total cost in 1980, £99 . . .) and some ancient Pentax glass married with a college K1000 . . . so I was making the most of what I had available.

But more importantly, I was training myself to see.

I don't think I have got there yet, but I keep trying, and that is the thing.
Simply by acquiring something as lovely as say an M2 and a suitable lens do not a good photographer, or even a decent Leica practitioner make.
Maybe if someone had handed me a M6 and a Summilux back in day I would have gone off snapping away at uninspiring drivel too, but they didn't and that didn't happen; my hunger to produce better images than I had the week before was what kept me going, not the need to grab the best stuff I could (n't) afford.
I wanted to take photographs and I still do - that hunger still drives me, and I'll use any of my cameras to do it, but at the end of the day, I have to take photographs I am happy with, otherwise what's the point?

***

Deary me Sheephouse, you've really gone off on one haven't you?
Well yes, and far be it from me to tell you how to enjoy your hobby - after all, you have to want to aspire to something don't you - I just felt that standing back and having a look at how things are and then saying it how I see it, might put a different spin on things for people.
For my own aspirations, a DR Summicron, a nice Hasselblad and a decent Rollei are hardly cheap and cheerful acquisitions, but life is short and I feel they'll further my vision. This being said they aren't the be-all and end-all - they're fine tools for executing what I can imagine myself taking - but I can just as easily imagine myself getting good results from Ye Olde Knackered Minolta Autocord and one of my Nikon Fs.
I do know one thing though - THE IMAGE IS ALL - it is the only thing that counts.

***

Anyway, enough of me olde manne guffe - you'll see below a couple of examples of me learning my way around a lovely old gentleman.
Steady at the back . . . stop that tittering.
He's a 1934 uncoated 50mm f3.5 Elmar that I bought from Peter Loy for a very reasonable price. The history of the lens is what got me - imagine what it has seen! However it is not a lens for the faint-hearted, as I learned quickly.
You need to up the oomph.
What helped initially was the acquisition of a lovely, mint, boxed, FISON lens hood from the lovely people at Red Dot Cameras, and then the oomph was further  . . er . . oomphed by a new development regime.
Flat, low-contrast negatives are the order of the (normal) day on an uncoated Elmar . . however rate a 400 film at around EI 200 and give about 10 to 15% extra development time and you'll get some gutsy negatives that will transform it.
It still has the glow, but it also has some other character which I can't quite pin down. I love it actually. As with all Elmars I really do think they were optimised as 'People Lenses' - that is my own expression, because they tend to work best in the 4 to 12 feet range, in other words the sort of distances you'd be using to photograph people.
So there y'go, have a butchers at the photos below - they do illustrate one thing. And it's an important thing - even learning to use a new lens doesn't mean you have to take pictures of piles of leaves or monitors or dashboards or the first thing you turn your camera on - you can try and make interesting images.
Just use your head, your heart, your eyes and go out and take some fucking photographs!

Well that's crude-boy me talking . . I think it is probably more eloquently expressed by a true master - Wynn Bullock:

"The medium of photography can record not only what the eyes see, but that which the mind's eye sees as well. The camera is not only an extension of the eye, but of the brain. It can see sharper, farther, nearer, slower, faster than the eye. It can see by invisible light. It can see in the past, present, and future. Instead of using the camera only to reproduce objects, I wanted to use it to make what is invisible to the eye, visible."

Testing, Testing, 1-2-3.

Testing, Testing, 1-2-3-4

TTFN - over and out and remember that the yellow pills make your tummy feel awfully wobbly.

The Good, The Mad And The Ugly 1.2

Morning folks - well the madness continues . . . if you read the last one, you'll know the story . . . if you haven't, best catch up here.

Anyway rather than bore you with acres of meaningless rambling, I went with the adage that a picture is worth a thousand words . . so you've got 16,000 words ahead of you . . good luck!

Oh, and I apologise in advance about the picture spacing . . . strangely for such a wonderful tool, Blogger is total shit at handling pictures and text together - it's a well-known problem. 

So, do like I do: put on your best Yorkshire accent and keep muttering: 

"Chuffin' bloody technological bloody marvels . . "

Once rinkling, tinkling burns turn into raging slippery torrents, courtesy of the melting snow.
Deeper than you think, you wouldn't want to fall into one.

  

I have often just stepped over this one. I couldn't jump it this time though - the bank on the far side is pretty soft.
Slip, crash, smash . . . . goodbye camera.

At last - something I could cross.
New pair of Altberg Defender boots get a good work out - they passed with flying colours.

The snowy-mist just wasn't having any of it.

Every time I take a picture, my Mother stares back at me . . . not that she had a beard or anything.
What you see on my head is God's gift to Winter headwear - the Lowe Alpine Mountain Cap - it's Goretex, warm, covers my elephant's ears and keeps my head well dry.
My Buffalo Special 6 shirt (star of several FB's) was wet through, however still remained warm.

Just about sums up the day so far.
The small ridge you see just to the right of centre, is up by Davey's hut on Jock's Road. It doesn't look that high, but in the words of Father Ted:
"This one is near . . . that one is far away. Near . . . Far Away."

You can't tell from this pic, but my rucksack was steaming in the sun - it had got very wet

I count the blessings of Mother Nature.
Resting besides a small river is a true heart's ease. I could have spent all day here, lazing in the sun . . . but there were photographs to be taken!

 

Hello Mum!
The look on my face says it all. I was steaming too, though not in the accepted Scots fashion . . . however had someone passed me a bottle of Woods Old Navy Rum, I would gladly have obliged them.

This gives you an idea of the sound!  

Sheer heaven. 

You can tell there's a lot of water moving along though by the sound. Outwith spate, river's tend to have an upper, higher-pitched tone. The bass aspect of this is indicative of thousands of gallons of water passing each and every minute.

I'll take this little break in the pics to say how fortunate I am to live not that far away from such beauty . . . of course, for me, it would be better to live in the thick of it, however it would make commuting a tad difficult . . how the feck did I end up in retail in a city?

Right, back on with t'shite . . .

 

The power of our Mother.
Dense clouds of fine water droplets were thrusting into the air and being illuminated by the bright sun - it was quite something.
My inner caveman stood in awe.
Unfortunately the photo doesn't convey just how much water was passing by - it was lots, and rapid too.

Yes I know . . . the centre column shouldn't be raised (slapped wrists) however the Gitzo reporter is pretty sturdy and it doesn't seem to have any detriment.
And anyway, I couldn't get the legs in a position where they wouldn't be in shot, hence the jaunty angles.

Same again please.

'E's big, 'airy and 'orrible and I be feared of him.
Passing Yeti decides to take a snap.
© Shite Sheephousian Shelfie

Ah  yes, the Craghoppers Microfleece Darkcloth!
You can often find them for about £6 in their sales. It works well - very breathable, doesn't cling too much, keeps out a decent amount of light. Has a zip neck so you can get it tight 'round the rear standard, and being a fleece, seems to eliminate some of the 'Darkcloth breath' condensation problem.

Packing up to go

And the weather just glowered in again.
As I was driving off from the car park, a massive snow storm blasted in.
What a day!

And I am going to call it a day there - the films are processed, but I have hit a time-related problem in being able to show you real prints, so I shall endevour to do that in the next one. 

The one thing I haven't mentioned, is that, rather than the usual 'set the camera up, compose, take photograph, take camera down, move on' . . regime (approx. 20 minutes taken each time) I decided to park my rucksack in one spot, set up camera, get dark slides into Lowe Alpine Fjell bum bag (very handy) and just wander up and down and enjoy this small section of riverbank - it made a hell of a lot of difference.

But more of that later - so, until the next time, take care and remember to start heading to the bathroom before you get the collywobbles.

The Good, The Mad And The Ugly 1.1

Winter hillwalking in Scotland is a complex and dangerous activity pursued on a regular basis by lots and lots of people with a hunger for danger. Yes there are countless experienced individuals who do it well-equipped, with the level of experience and skills necessary (and also the much-needed ability to realise defeat and turn back if it all starts to go pear-shaped).
However, there are also others who approach it with a loose whimsy nothing short of a death-wish - jeans, fabric walking shoes, no emergency gear, you name it, its been done, and then the wonderful VOLUNTEERS of our mountain rescue services put their lives on the line rescuing them.
Hmmm, blatant and foolish risk taking = financial culpability . . sounds reasonable doesn't it?
I think so, but obviously things can (and do) go hill-shaped quite often through no fault of your own - a good day can end up a total nightmare, so you should always have an out - things you can do to mitigate the end result . . . BE PREPARED - like, f'rinstance, thinking about whether you really could sit out a storm with 6 inches to two feet+ of snow.
I think if the shit hit the fan most people's answer would be . . Er . . NO!

"So Sheephouse, how does this apply to you and why are you boring us with such shite?" I hear you cry . . .

Well, despite having walked mountains for a longish (20-odd years) time now, I've never done a proper Winter walk, and you know what, I probably won't as I like my days in the hills to be solitary  - ergo, it's only me in some very BIG nature - at 3500ft and a howling white out, I'd be the one on my tod with the brown trousers . . . no, I value my life more than to take a solitary risk.

But like that rash you get from too tight underpants in the summer, itching at the back of my brain is a need to photograph permafrost and ice and hard granite and snow . . . and with a large format camera too!
Sometimes itches have to be scratched.

The title of this blog though does tell the truth . . .
Lugging a 5x4 and its copious accessories into the wilds is not an undertaking for the faint of heart. I've done it a few times and the sheer weight of everything is enough to put you off as you heft your rucksack back in the carpark.
The heaviest part is undoubtedly the tripod (unless you can afford carbon fibre) - it is a total bastard to carry, weighs a ton, and is as awkward as it gets.
After this (if you are brave) comes (in equal levels of awkwardness) the Double Dark Slides (they're cumulatively heavy, not massively heavy each, but when combined, heavy enough to make you wish you'd only taken 4 . . . or 2) and the camera (well actually it's a toss-up between the two) - but in all cases, BULK is your main problem.
My ancient Wista DX is almost as light as it comes for a 5x4, but it is still heavy, however not as heavy as my Sinar F . . . now that is heavy and yet, strangely carryable.

Here's a brief aside:

The F stands for Field (Not Feckin' Heavy . . nope, that would be the Sinar FH) and yes, you can use it in a field - grab a 6 inch rail and it will entirely compact onto that, although if you fancy carrying a solid, all-metal, brick that is approximately 6 x 8 x 8" and awkward as fceck to pack, go ahead. Mine actually fitted into a Deuter 22litre rucksack, with the film holders in a click-lock box in the separate compartment at the bottom, the 12" rail in one of the water bottle pockets at one side, and the bag bellows viewer (undoubtedly one of the best LF accessories ever invented - look Ma! No Darkcloth!!) tucked neatly in beside the camera. My light meter was in a small Lowe pouch attached to the side of the rucksack . . . water was in a 1 litre Sigg bottle on the opposite outside pouch to the rail . . . and food? erm. Oh. Dried goods I'm afraid - oatcakes, dried fruit and a couple of bite-sized choccy bars . . . no room for extra clothing really apart from hat and gloves. The tripod (Linhof Twin Shank and Gitzo Series 5 [! - weighing about the same as the QE2]) was carried with a couple of ingenious handles knotted and cable-tied to two of its legs (the material was a stretchy fabric offcut) and the whole thing was stopped from going all splay-ey by a bungee cord. My boots at the time weighed over a kilo each too, so you can see, it is quite easy to nearly kill yourself with such a set-up . . and I nearly did. I've detailed some of it somewhere else on FB - if you want to find it, use the search . . I think 'nearly killed' would be the keywords.

Anyway, as I say the thoughts of carrying such a get-up to such heights as a Munro is nearly too much to bear these days, but I still wanted to photograph Winter.
Allied to this, I had a new (secondhand) rucksack to break in (long story cut short = upcoming camping trip/no wish to tear down compartments on Tamrac bag/not enough room for camping stuff = Karrimor Sabre 45!) hence the near genius idea of a decent walk, but at lower levels - if the permafrost was around there would be ample opportunity to photograph my chosen subjects. And you know what . . . I think I would have made it, were it not for a couple of things.

Number 1:

Low pressure and raised temperatures

Number 2:

Because of Number 1, all the snow was melting - little jumpable burns were now raging slippery torrents.

I had to re-plan on the hoof - the best laid plans of meece and men as it were . . . 

Basically, where I wanted to go, I had recc'ed a couple of years back - there were tiny, lovely, tinkling burns to cross before I got to a small gorge where the White Water forces its way between slippy stones and stunted trees at the edge of a boulder field.
It even sounds bloody great writing it!
My juices were flowing and my energy levels were up - in my minds-eye I could see great slabs of iced-water broken upon oval, water-smoothed, boulders.
I could see shapes and patterns, whorls and melt. It would be perfect.

But I'll go into it (and why it never happened) fully next time.

For now, are we sitting comfortably?
Yes?
Good - it is time for a little Sh-Sh-Sh-Sh-Sheephouse Aside.

 

Wot is it Sheephouse? Wot, I said, WOT, IS IT???

Well, isn't it obvious?

Nah. It looks like a green bag to me, wiv some sticks and fings on it, innit.

(Sigh) OK and just because it is you -  . . . it's a Karrimor SF Sabre 45 - a military grade rucksack which holds a capacious 45 litres - on the sides you see some ex-army PLCE side pockets (or Rockets as they're known) these hold approximately 15 litres each - so basically it is a 75 litre rucksack!

That's a lot of room and way more than I would carry ever (if it was a cloth barrel, could you imagine carrying 75 litres of beer? Nope, me neither . . ) however it is necessary for Winter.
My normal LF rucksack is roughly half that size - it's a Tamarac Extreme 777, which just holds all my LF camera gear with little room for anything else - that is no good for me in the Winter, hence a larger sack was necessary.
Nefarious excuses for buying another rucksack out of the way - here's what it held:

Exped 40 litre dry bag - almost everything was in there, which was in turn within the main body of the rucksack

Wista DX (protected in a small Lowe shoulder bag)

Schneider 150mm f5.6 Symmar-S (inside collapsed camera)

Schneider 90mm f8 Super Angulon (in lens wraps)

Light meter - Gossen Lunasix-F with spot attachment (in Lowe digital camera shoulder bag - it's small)

Note paper and pencils

2 cable releases

Reading glasses (in hard case) for composition

Silvestri Loupe

Spare meter batteries

Tape measure

Spirit Level

Dark Cloth (a Craghoppers microfleece with a zip neck - breathable and very light tight)

4 Dark Slides in a Lowe bumbag + 4 spare in a cliptop box

2 litres of water

Enough dried food for a monster like me

Emergency space blanket

Compass

Knife
Whistle
Torch

Map in waterproof mapcase

Small digicam case attached to waistbelt (to hold small Panasonic Lumix)

Ventile Jacket

US Army Poncho (in case of maximum wetness)

Buffalo systems hood and mitts (to match the Special 6 shirt I was wearing)

Gaiters

Ex-Army neck buff

Lowe Mountain cap

Spare cable ties

Leki Wanderfreund trekking pole (for crossing dodgy burns)

Oh and the tripod, which actually attached pretty well to the pack when I was using the Leki

Basically, if you can imagine carrying a toddler robot, you've got it.
I see the Army bomb disposal got there before me - sort of like this:

Or like this, but in reverse . . . if Altaira was carrying Robby, he would feel like the Karrimor Sabre fully loaded.

I've no idea what the weight was, but it was heavy . . . however (and strangely) with the pack on properly, waist belt clipped so my hips were taking the strain rather than my shoulders and with the sternum strap done up, it was surprisingly comfortable.
I was expecting to get truly hot and sweaty, but I was alright - so was the rucksack - nary a complaint - it is built like a brick sheephouse after all.
I'm not sure if I'd like to climb a Munro with that level of stuff though - I could probably slim things down a bit, to lessen the weight, but not that much. It would be a huge test of fitness.

Anyway, suitably ladened and after having had a quiet word with myselves in the carpark, off I marched into the wilds for 5 miles of phun and phrolics.

***

Phew, that was tiring wasn't it!

Well, this is what your intrepid reporter looks like after a sweaty yomp into the far beyond. Jings that load was heavy.

Your intrepid reporter, feeling less sweaty now the toddler robot has climbed down and is off for a play in the woods.
Note extreme wide-angle, off-axis, enlargement of facial features (Official Nikon F & Nikkormat Manual, p38).
Or am I just reverting to my childhood porkieness?
I prefer the technical answer.

But isn't it incredible, that even in the middle of nowhere, there's still some f'er taking a 'selfie'. 

Another Sh-Sh-Sh-Sheephouse aside . . .

Sorry to say it folks but I genuinely believe that Ali and me invented the modern one back in the very early 1990's, except we called them self portraits then . . and they were on film . . . but the concept was the same:

Point and shoot camera.
Reverse lens back to the picture taker.
Arm out, with that now oh so familiar pose.
Steady.
Say cheese
Autofocus at work.
Click.
That was it.

Nowadays you can even get a feckin selfie-stick so you can get all of yourself in . . er . . isn't that what self-timers are for?
Selfies have lost any meaning they might have had.
They used to work - the unusual angle, the self-proclamation of 'I WOZ ERE', it all led to a different slant on things, rather like the woman who managed to catalogue a visit to Egypt with her disposable 110 camera reversed so that every shot featured her ear (!).
You laughed at her mistake, but seeing most of the Wonders Of Egypt with an ear attached to them wasn't just a laugh, it was almost ART.
Nah, selfies, as common as dog muck and I hate them with a vengeance . . .
However, seeing as we invented them, why not . . . .

Er wait a minute Sheephouse . . . is that really you?

Och bugger . . . spotted again. Indeed it is. 

If you can find me in public and come up to me and say
'Your name is Herman Sheephouse and I claim my free sticker now' 
I can guarantee you'll get a special prize . . .

Anyway, where is all this going?
I am not sure actually, as it looks to me like I am just twiddling my fingers and writing the first thing that comes into my head . . . marking time I think my Dad would have said . . and he would have been right.
Why?
Well, I haven't developed the film yet. Well I have now actually, however no contacts have been made - more of that next time. For now let's just say, LF Photography Makes Men.
It's like a boot camp for the visual arts. it really is.
More next time in an epic and exciting episode:
The toddler robot returns, the weather turns, I have a turn, and, after nearly walking away disgusted, eventually end up whiling away a happy couple of hours next to a raging river.

Exceptionally precarious

TTFN -  and remember if the blue pills don't work, there's always the green ones.