Sun and Snow

In fairer seasons those perfect cloudless days can do as much to elevate my disposition as the next person. If such a day also so happens to be free from work obligations it might be the perfect time to do a bit of token work around the house followed by some less demanding social/recreational activity. Whatever that activity might consist of it probably won't involve throwing a tripod and bag of camera gear into the car and heading wherever fancy takes me. Those sojourns are usually reserved for days that promise more mood, more drama than harsh sun and empty skies are likely to deliver. A thunderstorm wouldn't be out of the question if I could keep the kit dry. I've avoided shooting in direct sun so much at times I wonder if I've undergone the photographic equivalent of going Goth.

That's the way of things over the past couple of years at any rate. In earlier times, not long after I had really started getting a handle on black and white and darkroom printing, it was more about detail and texture. My images tended to be more abstract and I printed them with a mind to achieving a full tonal range from near paper white to the deepest black that could be achieved. Back then skies didn't figure quite so prominently in what I was shooting and full sun just meant going out early or late enough to get some dramatic side lighting.

I haven't abandoned that approach really. It's just for the past couple of years I've been inspired by different things. Lately though it seems some of that old inspiration has been making a re-appearance and I think it's due in large part to snow.

I couldn't tell you the year this was taken other than it was sometime in the early to mid 90's, but somehow I recall the date was March 7th. It's a good example of the kind of work I was doing back then, both in the field and in the darkroom. I'll be a happy fellow once I feel I have back the kind of darkroom chops I had in those days. (Camera: Arca Swiss F line 4x5, Lens: 210mm f/5.6 Schneider Symmar-S, Film: Probaby T-Max 100 but don't quote me on that, Paper: Ilford MG-IV FB.)

Snow makes itself into new objects, creating forms of its own. It blankets the messy ground with a clean white canvas, ready to be painted with shadow, isolating objects that break above its surface. It can be specular, translucent or take on multiple textures. So many of its more photogenic aspects however require sun. Without it snow is often just a bland featureless cover hiding the landscape beneath.

 So it is that through the course of this particularly snow graced winter that the sun has again started to factor into my photography as more than just a source of dramatic back light for moody clouds. I've started to work with once more, even anticipate it.

At least that's how it's been to this point. We've moved on into March now. Last week temperatures got above freezing for the first time I think since December and since then has been wandering even higher above that mark with increasing regularity since. Winter may yet have an encore or two in store but it won't be long before snow cover is cleared out in a spring liquidation and I'm trading in my Kodiak boots for a pair of wellies. Bountiful as this winter has been photographically part of me is all too ready to get on with it. (And I must confess, it's the greater part.) Whether this rekindled working relationship with the sun in all of its unveiled glory continues when this happens, well... we'll just have to see.

This section of what is collectively known as Niagara Falls is one of only several hundred waterfalls across the planet to go by the name "Bridal Veil Falls". It baffles me how often it's failed to occur to anyone that as virtually any waterfall resembles a bride's veil that this isn't a particularly distinctive moniker. 

The out flow from the now defunct Canadian Niagara Power generating station. The water keeps flowing for free and the generators are still sitting there doing nothing - seems like a waste not to turn them on just because they're old.

I didn't notice until I decided to touch up a few dust spots the big blob of lens flare sitting in the branches towards the upper left like a big icy coconut that had somehow just grown there. 

Leaving the Tripod at Home

I have always been a bit of a stickler about using a tripod. That might seem pretty obvious for a guy who uses a beast like a Mamiya RB67 most of the time, but it was true even back in the day when owning such a camera was a pipe dream. I had a good tripod (the Manfrotto 055 I still use to this day) before ever considering things like a second Nikon body or additional lenses. Then as now it was always the meditative approach for me. While I've always embraced my contemplative side I sometimes wonder if I let it stifle other aspects of creativity like spontaneity, novelty and whimsy. It's hard to really cut loose with a camera that's stuck to a tripod. It can be done I suppose, (think Salvadore Dali and flying cats) but why make it harder?

Hand held medium format from the Iskra folder. For compact on the go portability I think beats your typical 35mm SLR without sacrificing those big sharp 6x6 negatives, nothing beats this style of camera.

I've been giving some thought lately to what it would mean not to be so tied to a tripod all the time. At other times in my life, when the kids were younger and in my wedding photography career, an overwhelming majority of the photography I was doing was almost the polar opposite of the kind of work I do these days and the Manfrotto was seeing some serious closet time. It's not that I'm thinking of returning to that kind of photography. Wedding photography and having young kids are two things I enjoyed and that I am so done with now. Still, that doesn't necessarily mean I have to accept the limitations of a tripod, not all the time.

In a previous entry When The Tourists Are Away... I wondered if I'd have made out a little better going tripod free with a 35mm camera. Well I did get a chance to make a return visit, this time packing two Nikons - an F80 loaded with Ilford Delta 100 and an FE with some expired Fuji Superia for colour. Also along was the Iskra folder. Going handheld doesn't mean I have to give up medium format after all.

What looked like a toy fence, coming up to about mid shin on me, would have been chest high absent the snow.

The results you can see so there's little need to comment. It was a different sort of day that my earlier visit, generally overcast with an occasional opening in the clouds letting through direct sun. The landscape had also changed in the intervening weeks, with much more snow that in many cases covered over the glassy coating of ice that formed as mist froze. On the other hand it gave the whole scene more of a winter wonderland feel.

The experience I have to say was mixed. On the positive side yes there were shots I probably wouldn't have been able to catch with a camera bound to a tripod, especially in a few cases where there were people in the shot who would have moved on if I didn't have the ability to bring the camera right up and fire. The freedom to explore a subject also came into play now and then as well. It wasn't so much the small adjustments that sometimes need to be done to get the camera positioned in exactly the right spot, I can do this just as well, if not better, when working from a tripod. It's more those situations I'm not sure of such as when it appears an awkward or impossible camera position is required, or that presents compositional challenges there might or might not be a solution for. In short if, it seems there's a good chance the effort to get the shot I envision could be in vain, the added difficulty of having to manhandle a tripod through the process might keep me from trying in the first place.

I once had a summer job at a hotel not far from these. Amazing how many people arrive for the first time expecting a rustic cabin and thinking Niagara Falls was located in a wilderness preserve. In reality it aspires to become the Las Vegas of the North. It seems people don't gamble away their savings like they used to though, which I'm informed is a bad thing.

I have to say though, shooting like this did make me lazy, lazy enough not to bother digging out a filter if I thought it would help, lazy enough that there were occasions where I chose not to take the shot rather than go to the bother of swapping lenses between the two Nikons. Arguably if I couldn't be bothered it wasn't worth the effort or the wasted film anyway, but I just wasn't as invested in the subject or the process and it\s hard to tell myself that's a good thing. And lest it be forgotten, a tripod is more than just the camera gear equivalent a hair shirt meant to heighten our awareness of the photographic process through penance. Even at shutter speeds above the 1/focal length rule of thumb, hand held camera shake can cause enough sharpness loss to erase the benefits of using a top notch lens.

It's all food for thought. It may need some time to digest though, so it's a bit soon to say whether any of this will change the way I do things in the end. I'm certainly not ready to shelve the tripod or the Mamiya, though I can't help but think some tweak may be in order. As always I'll keep you posted.

When The Tourists Are Away...

In past entries I've noted how, as a local, Niagara Falls doesn't have the sort of magnetic draw on my camera lenses that seem to hold sway with visitors to the area. For the past several years however it's been my intent to visit during the much more photographically interesting and visitor sparse height of winter. Past years have not been kind to my plans. Last year I let the unusual cold take away my photographic mojo which only returned when things warmed up, and the several years prior to that were too warm for there to be a real dead of winter.

It didn't occur to me at a time but coated and weighed down by ice this tree reminds me of a Shetland Pony.

Though not quite so frigid as last year, this January has been accompanied by some solidly winter weather, and with my mojo fully intact I finally set out to ensure another year wouldn't pass without getting a crack at the area around the Falls. It wasn't so much the Falls itself I was after, though they too take on added interest in the presence of great quantities of ice. The real draw was the heavy glaze of ice that covers almost everything in the surrounding area. The mist rising from the torrent below that in warmer months drenches countless unprepared tourists begins to freeze on the surface of anything that doesn't move as the temperatures drop, turning trees and other fixed objects into virtual ice sculptures.

I brought what has become my standard kit - Mamiya RB67 Pro S with all four lenses for it I own, 50mm, 65mm, 127mm and 250mm, three backs loaded with Fuji Acros for black and white, Kodak Portra 160 for colour and a roll of 35mm Ilford Delta 100 with my home made 120 adapter for panoramas, Manfrotto 055 tripod, light meter, and the usual sundries like filters, cable release etc. I also brought along the Minolta Hi-Matic 9 loaded with some Fuji Superia 400 I've kept in the freezer for about ten years. As I write this I have yet to finish off any of the colour rolls I was shooting that day so images from those are yet to come. Also, as the 35mm roll in the RB67 back had been a partial roll, I was unaware that there was only one frame left and since it has to be unloaded in the darkroom when finished I was unable to reload in the field. 

These windows are part of an odd looking rail-car, the purpose of which I can't guess. It's enclosed in its own little fenced off enclosure suggesting it has some sort of historical value. It has plenty of character and I'd love to explore it with a camera more but the fence itself gets in the way. I was able to see a bit more this day though by standing on a show bank.

If rainbows in b&w are not your thing I did get a colour version of this which you may see once I finish the roll.

As anyone familiar with the RB67 will realize this is quite a load, but my middle aged, desk job soft self can still manage a haul of a few KM over reasonable terrain when I've got it all loaded into the big photo backpack. That's pretty much what I set myself up to do when as usual I chose the free parking at the Dufferin Islands park and walked the rest of the way. I might have saved myself some effort had I realized that not only was this normally heavily maintained area neglected in the off-season, and that likewise they don't bother maintaining the tourist premium parking rates closer to the Falls when there are next to no tourists arriving. Though I could have avoided the slog, it's over now and I burned off all those extra calories.

If I had it to do over again, and with at a good month or more of winter yet to come I guess I do, I think I would have been better served if I had left the Mamiya at home in this case in favour of a Nikon used hand-held. Shooting tripod mounted is almost habitual for me but in this case I felt it held me back from exploring all the compositional options I found myself confronted with. I was glad of the Hi-Matic I brought with me, allowing me to be a little more free-wheeling though with one of the Mamiya backs loaded with Portra I found myself wishing I had loaded it with black and white film.

The one panoramic image I was able to get on 35mm film adapted to the RB67. As I had no idea how many shots were on the partial roll to begin with there was no way to know that there was only one exposure remaining and as it had to be removed in the darkroom I couldn't put in a fresh roll in the field.

Matters of shooting style aside however, this was one day that using a waist level finder, currently my only option with the RB67, put me at a disadvantage. This isn't always the case, and in fact there are times when using a waist level finder has been a revelation. For example landscape shots featuring a prominent foreground object often require shooting from an angle low enough to have an eye-level finder user crawling on their belly to frame up the shot. Even when the shot doesn't require such low angles, shooting with a camera held at chest level rather than the same height we are used to seeing the world from can subtly add interest to images through the slightly unfamiliar point of view. Putting my armchair psychologist hat on the lower eye level implied may even be suggestive of a child's point of view, triggering whatever emotional responses that might involve for a particular viewer. This waist-level point of view has been noted as an important component in Vivian Maier's style. Perhaps the child's perspective would also make sense in the work of the word's most (belatedly) famous TLR toting nanny. 

There's a flip side to this of course, as obtaining a perspective higher than waist-level requires a step ladder or some reasonable substitute. For example, in image at the top of the post I was aware that the top of the tree intersected with the top of the falls and that I could remedy this by raising the height of the camera but as I need to look down on the camera from above to see what was in the shot, doing so would have left me shooting blind. Like most medium format SLRs the RB67 has interchangeable viewfinders and I have considered getting an eye-level finder for situations like this. Of course to really benefit I'd have to bring along both finders and switch as needed, adding yet another item to an already heavy pack. Not as heavy as carrying a step-ladder with me mind you, so I may yet do this.

There are more images to come. The images here are from the first roll of Fuji Acros that went through the Mamiya as well as the aforementioned single panoramic image on 35mm film. In addition to the colour images still in camera there's a second roll of Acros with images from that day that's also waiting to be finished. As always I'll keep you posted.