Fostering Good Mistakes

I've heard many a film photographer wax lyrical about their love for our medium's beautiful imperfections, its inherent unpredictability and I confess to being a little baffled by it all. Hardly the most careful photographer to begin with, even on my worst day, trying out an unfamiliar film stock while relying on 'sunny 16' exposure guestimations because I left the meter at home, I can't say I'm ever left holding my breath about whether I got anything, all the while holding out hope that some completely unforeseen happy accident may have transformed my humble efforts into a masterpiece. Save the more modern film stock I'm using the same medium used by Paul Strand, Dorthea Lange, Ansel Adams for Pete's sake, not exactly people whose work is characterized by flaws. Even when marred by the occasional strand of fibre or fleck of dust floating around the camera at least it only appears on one frame. I'd agree that contrasted with the clinical perfection of today's digital cameras there's a more organic look about images shot on film, I had no idea where all this talk about film's unpredictability and imperfection was coming from.

Turns out I was just doing it wrong. 35mm Nikons, 6x7 Mamiyas and 4x5 technical field cameras sporting beautiful German glass... piffle. To truly understand film in all of its capricious, expressively blemished wonderfulness all I really needed was to get my hands on a Polaroid pack camera.

The Polaroid Automatic 220 camera arrived just two days prior to this writing so it's a bit early to say if the above is truly overstating things for effect. It was an eBay buy, and while it's in remarkably good shape, the greater part of purchase expenses was the shipping cost. Should you be tempted to look for such a buy I should hasten to add that the camera did require a bit of surgery prior to use to retrofit the camera to take 3 AAA batteries in place of the out of production 4.5V No. 531 battery it was designed for - a 5 minute job with a soldering iron but something to think about if you're not handy that way.

I've yet to get an entire pack of 10 exposures through the camera, but so far fully half of the images I've taken have gone awry due to some mishap or other. This isn't counting the images that simply came out dark before I learned I need to compensate for the camera's tendency to underexpose. Take for example this test image of my son Brennan.

Classic double exposure it would seem, and simple enough to do with this camera if one simply cocks the shutter and fires off another image before pulling the sheet through the rollers to start that magic development process. What actually lead to this image was a bit more complicated than that however. Unlike Polaroid's more familiar integral film formats such as SX70, 600 and Spectra - the film formats now manufactured by the Impossible Project, Polaroid pack cameras don't just shoot themselves out of the camera to develop before your eyes. After taking an image with a pack camera there is a leader that must be pulled by hand. (I should say as an aside in case you're wondering that Polaroid doesn't make the film for these cameras anymore, it's now manufactured by Fuji.) This still doesn't get the image out of the camera however, it just brings a second tab, the one attached to the actual film, out of a second door where it must be drawn through a pair of rollers that burst the little chemical packets inside the film and spread it over the surface as you draw it out of the camera where, after waiting the requisite period to allow development to occur, the sandwich is peeled apart to reveal whatever it is you managed to get.

Maybe it will just take more practice but my experience is that things here don't always go as planned. Somehow after the image prior to our double exposure mishap above was taken half of what was supposed to be the sandwich that constituted the next exposure, the paper that was supposed to carry the image, came out attached to it. That happened the day before and I had forgotten about it when I wen to take this image until I went to pull the film only to find the other half of the sandwich. Believing that image had simply been a dud I shot a second image on what I thought would be a freshly advanced sheet of film. Obviously whatever actually happened inside the camera was something else. Accidental double exposure despite the best intentions. Happy accident? My son seems to think so.

Happily, being an instant camera, I didn't have to wait several days before the happy accident would be realized and I was able to grab an on purpose version.

Having had the camera all of two days now it's hard to give you more than this these quick first impressions. I'll have more to say on this camera and my experiences with it in future episodes. It probably doesn't need saying but I have no illusions about using this camera for my usual sort of work. It should make for some interesting experiments though. Oh, and let's not forget, it should be great fun at parties too.

Through a Filter Darkly

Long exposure photography, where the shutter is left open long enough to blur even slower moving subjects in the frame, has been with us for a long time. In fact in photography's early days the poor sensitivity of photographic plates compared to the film speeds we are used to today made it impossible to do anything but, requiring portrait photographers to put to use braces to hold their sitters heads still less any small motion during the many seconds to minutes the shutter was open blur the image. As film sensitivity improved and it became the norm for photographers to truly be able to freeze an instant in time and long exposure photography became something of a special technique. Often this involved night time exposures such as the familiar images of star trails, where darkness allows the shutter to be left open for hours even with today's more sensitive materials. Sometimes though it would be desirable to leave the shutter open for long periods of time even in full daylight, for example to give a soft gossamer appearance to the flow of water in a fast moving stream. When simply closing the aperture down to its smallest setting isn't enough photographers wanting to achieve this effect have long carried neutral density (ND) filters to cut down the amount of light reaching the lens by perhaps three to four stops which might allow exposures to be stretched out to a full second or more.

It's hard to say when but over the past decade or so a growing number of photographers began to push the envelope of where these long exposure techniques could be applied. By extending exposure times even further, to minutes instead of seconds, motion such as the rolling of waves or the drift of clouds across the sky could transform the entire feel of a scene, achieving a new level of abstraction by viewing the world over a time scale much different from those at which our eyes operate. Suddenly, rather than three or four stops, photographers began seeking out ND filters that reduced light by ten stops. There are now many such filters on the market.

If you have never used a ten stop ND filter, you need to look carefully at a rather bright scene to be able to tell that they are not completely opaque. (It is not safe to look directly at the sun through a 10 stop ND filter however, or any filter not specifically designated as safe for this purpose. This includes looking through the optical viewfinder of a camera with a filter in place. Seriously.) The effect, as you would imagine, can be dramatic, altering the feel of a seaside image as radically as the use of infrared film can transform a photograph of a forest scene.

Having moved beyond a technique a photographer could pull out of their bag of tricks for special occasions, long exposure is now often referred to as a different kind of photography, its own genre. Photographers have built successful careers largely, sometimes almost entirely, through their long exposure work. I wouldn't dare be so presumptuous as to try to list the "most notable" long exposure photographers, but to give you a taste you might want to have a look at the work of Michael Levin,
Keith Aggett, Nathan Wirth or Paul Simon Wheeler.

Do so and you'll probably note the way bodies of water feature strongly in the portfolios of these photographers. While long exposure techniques affect the appearance of anything in the frame that is moving - windblown grass, clouds, humans - somehow it is water and the motion of waves that seem to create the greatest emotional impact, especially when the ethereal mist created by motion and time is contrasted with the solid unmoving presence of a rock, a pier or the wreck of an old ship. I imagine it would be hard to incorporate long exposure photography into your work if you lived out on a prairie.

Situated as I am among the Great Lakes, effectively oceans in terms of their photographic potential, I have favourable geography for long exposure photography easily at hand. It may seem a bit surprising, therefore, that it doesn't constitute a larger portion of my work. I should say first of all that this is in now way because long exposure isn't in line with any personal philosophy or ideal about photography. In my understanding the reason we might find photographs in particular so fascinating in a way that the actual scene photographed may not have hinted at even if we were present when it was taken is that the camera presents us with an image that is familiar and recognizable in a way we can easily relate to, but through an eye that sees the world in a different way than we experience it. We can make creative choices to record in a way that may be a little more or a little less like the way we see the world with our own eyes - motion versus still, colour versus black and white and so on. Often times we find the fascination deepens the more an image differs from the way our eyes see it. Add to this the photographic essence that anchors the image to reality and the fascination deepens. Long exposure photography then is just one more way in which the camera can see the world differently.

I hasten to add it is not an unreal way. If creatures somehow evolved to see the world changing on a time scale of minutes rather than fractions of a second what we see in a long exposure image might be a better representation of how the world really looks to them. To such beings the sort of everyday image we see now made at a shutter speed of 1/60th of a second might be as strikingly unusual as Harold Edgerton's images of a bullet frozen in motion as it emerged from an apple it had been shot through. While we tend to think of the way that we see the world as "objective" and any other way as somehow "unreal", these are accidents of the kind of beings we are. This isn't to say that how we see the world is irrelevant to the way relate to a photograph. I don't imagine an image of a scene made in radio frequencies would have much emotional impact. There needs to be that anchor.

In the end then my choice to stick with the usual sub one second shutter speeds comes down to the particulars of what my muse chooses to whisper in my ear at any given time. I choose to make long exposures sometimes, but not usually in much the same way I shoot colour film sometimes, but not usually. I just have to trust the muse, she's been good to me so far. (What, I can have a female muse if I want to.)

One reason I often don't choose to go with extended exposure time is clouds. If you've been following this blog for any length of time you'll know I love clouds. In fact the very reason I'm writing at this moment rather than being out there with a camera is that there's a beautiful cloudless blue sky outside my window right now - useless. The way clouds render in long exposure images, silken puffs rushing by like freight trains or sometimes extended into aurora like fingers reaching across the skies, can sometimes bring an ethereal sense of its own to an image, but that's not what draws me to the, at least not usually. I'm drawn to clouds for their form, foreboding, the play of light and the sense they give that the sky is a thing. Whatever an extended exposure times may bring to the way it renders clouds, much of the time these other things can be lost.

And so it was that last week I finally found myself at a beach on the shore of Lake Ontario I've been meaning to explore. The weather was terrible, and by terrible I mean just about perfect - blustering winds stirring up waves, dark threatening clouds with the occasional break to let the sun flood through. I walked the length of the beach with the big pack containing my Wista kit then, having shot all 12 sheets I had with me returned to the car and grabbed the smaller pack and did the whole thing again with the Bronica. I honestly hadn't given any thought to doing long exposure on this outing and while I had my 77mm thread size ND filter with me, there were no thread adapters packed anywhere meaning the one and only lens I could use it with was the 50mm Nikkor wide angle for the Bronica. It wasn't until well into the morning, when I came upon a large branch that had washed in from who knows where with what appeared to be a sort of cobbled together ladder I would guess once lead to a tree house still attached that I had any notion of getting it out. Objectively it seemed the clouds were just the sort I usually like to shoot just as they are (or as they appear to me) and the rough surface of the lake with waves that would curl then spread into a frothy blanket as the hit shore were ideal things to incorporate into the photographs I was taking but, you know, the muse.

I have two film backs for the Bronica and on this day one was loaded with HP5+ which is excellent generally and has the speed to allow me to hand hold when the need strikes, the other containing Fuji Acros which, among its other virtues probably the best film ever created when working with exposure times longer than a few seconds. As luck would have it the composition called for the 50mm, the only lens my 10 stop ND filter would fit. To this I added a Cokin graduated grey filter to save me having to burn in the sky later on and a pair of 90 second exposures were made. It seemed prudent to at least rattle off a normal exposure too so after switching backs, removing the ND filter and putting the grad filter back in place I did another shot on HP5+ at, I think, 1/30th.

The long exposure result is up at the top where it stands the best chance of catching the eye of potential readers. It is almost an entirely straight can of the negative though I burned in the lower right corner in Photoshop just a smidge. Now for comparison here is what I got without the ND filter:

For easier comparison here they are side by side. You might want to click to enlarge:

Your evaluation may differ, but even though I'd be happy with the normal exposure if that's all I had taken and your view of the situation may differ, I'll make no bones about the fact that I prefer the long exposure version in this instance. It's true too that I put a good deal more time in Photoshop with the standard version to get it to look as good as I think it could though honestly this is probably due at least in part to some vignetting imparted by the cheap no-name neutral density filter I've been using (even some expensive ND filters are prone to uneven expousre) doing some of the burning-in work for me.

Who is to day if I'll be making this sort of image more in the future. Maybe I'd use it more often if I had something better than a no-name filter. It's an investment I've been considering. (There's never a shortage of things one should consider investing in, is there?) At the very least I'll have to be more careful in future to keep my thread adapters at hand.

A Season for Colour

Here it is October again and, not unlike countless other photographers (at least those who live at similar latitudes), my normally black and white photographic muse begins entertaining thoughts of colour. Simple enough it seems, it's autumn, the leaves take on riotous colours and every photographer wants to capture that. I wonder though if there might not be a little more to it than the changes that occur to leaves. Beyond colour, autumn has its own emotional pallet. It's in the air, in the scents, the crisp silence of still moments, the immediacy of the chill wind, waking us from dreamy days of summer, bringing us back to earth, to the world of our direct experience, carrying its reminder that we are after all as much a part of it as anything else. There are times, even when the flaming yellows, oranges and reds of October have given way to November's dull browns, that something of this sense of presence can be lost to the abstraction of black and white.

An image from the fall of 2014 made with the Mamiya RB67 on Kodak Portra 160.

None of this is to say I'll be putting away the Ilfords, the T-Max's and the Neopans until the snow flies. Some of my most treasured black and white images were made at this time of year. Knowing there will be times when colour is an important part of the feel of an image however it does mean I making plans so I'm not caught unprepared. Two years ago I accomplished this by packing my old Nikon D80 DSLR along with the Mamiya kit. Shooting digital and film side by side like this presented me with an interesting contrast between how I thought and felt about using one photographic technology versus the other (and as a result I haven't taken a digital camera with me for creative purposes since). It did not, however, result in any memorable colour images. Last year I was better prepared with a couple of pro-packs of Kodak Portra, a 1L kit of C-41 chemistry and some thawed rolls of 35mm Fujicolor that have been sitting in the freezer for the past decade or so. To be honest black and white has become such a habit that I didn't reach for it as often as I could have and never felt I really got into the colour photography groove, but I did come away with some reasonably good images that worked where black and white wouldn't have, at least not as well.

That brings us to this year. My hopes were that by now the new Ferrania E-6 film would be on the market. Alas that project has hit more than its fair share of snags that started with the unexpected discovery of asbestos contamination in the factory which set off a small avalanche of delays in its wake. If you haven't been following the project though fear not, they are soldiering on in Italy and the project is starting to get back on track once again. Alas, not in time for there to be hope of having film on the market before it all gets covered over in a frosty white blanket.

Whether or not I'm giving the new Ferrania a go, which I inevitably will, shooting transparencies (or slides if you care to mount them) rather than colour negatives does have a certain attraction for me, especially these days. Back in my late teens and early twenties when my fascination with photography was really starting to take hold I rarely shot anything but. The great thing about this for an "improving" photographer is that since the image you would see is on the actual physical piece of film that went through your camera you saw exactly what you shot as you shot it in it's unadjusted, unadulterated, uninterpreted form. What would be more important to me these days is that having a direct positive provides me with a finished, physical, hold-it-in-your-hand image in a way that a negative doesn't. Back when the term "photo shop" referred to a place rather than an app this wasn't a big deal since when you got your colour negatives developed they came back accompanied by a small stack of prints, but as that sort of service isn't easily available, at least where I live, getting that finished physical image from colour print film has become a challenge and working with just a scan from a negative doesn't seem to be the same thing.

If that was all there was to it though I don't have to wait for Ferrania. Fujichrome is still out there and for a bit more of an adventure there's an interesting selection of transparency film available from the Film Photography Project (henceforth and heretoaft referred to as FPP). An the E-6 chemistry to process it is a little more expensive and a little trickier to use than the C-41 equivalent needed for colour negative film but still well within the threshold of how much of a challenge I'm up to. The real issue is that, once mixed, the chemistry has a shelf life that is measured in weeks. As it was the much longer lived C-41 chemistry I used last year went off as a result of sitting too long on the shelf well before it reached its potential in terms of the number of rolls I might have been able to process. To get full use from a batch of E-6 chemistry I would really need to go on a colour shooting binge. I have heard some E-6 shooters say they will save up exposed film until they have enough to justify mixing a batch of chemistry to make sure none goes to waste but that seems to me to require a special kind of patience that I just don't have.

And so it was decided that for now I was better off sticking with colour negatives. The little snag I had to confront was that at some point since last year my main supplier, B&H in New York, has unfathomably restricted their C-41 kits to in-store sales only. Now B&H is one of several great dealers for those of us who have little choice but to get our photo supplies online, but with punishingly high shipping rates from the U.S. to Canada these days the fact that B&H (at the time this is being written anyway) can offer free shipping to Canada on orders over $100 is hard to ignore. No matter though if I can't get what I need from them, I can still order C-41 kits from the FPP online store. The kits are actually priced lower than at B&H if you ignore the fact that for me that means foregoing the free shipping, and better yet sales go to support the Film Photography Podcast which, if you're not familiar, stop reading now, go to http://filmphotographyproject.com/podcast where you'll find links to listen to each episode, then return when you're ready.

The order was placed, shipped the next day and arrived a few days later. To spread the shipping cost a bit thinner I ordered two C-41 kits along with some 120 Portra 400, some 35mm Ektar and a roll of of FPP's Retrochrome E-6 which I plan to cross process in the C-41 chemistry as soon as the first batch is close to exhaustion. Retrochrome, by the way, is a typical example of the way FPP will repurpose film that was originally made for specialty applications such as motion picture duplication or traffic cameras for use by photography enthusiasts who may enjoy the unique characteristics some of these stocks offer. Retrochrome itself is from an expired surplus stock of Ektachrome 2239, a film that was produced for industrial use but with characteristics that were probably not unlike the Ektachromes available to consumers and professional photographers at the time. The unique look it offers today is likely solely due to its having mellowed over the years resulting in a warm nostalgic look as the name suggests. Who knows what if anything that will mean to me when I cross-process it in C-41 chemistry, but stay tuned and I'll let you know.

For now though I have the day free and a roll of Portra in the Bronica. I also have a mind to load a roll of the 35mm Ektar into an RB67 back with a set of home made adapters I put together for panoramas "sprocket hole" style. Autumn has hardly just begun (I can tell because the stores are only now putting out the Christmas/Hanukkah/Saturnalia merchandise) but as always will present only so many opportunities to photograph what it offers before once again I'll find myself challenged to write convincingly about the joys of photographing the ice and snow.