Have you ever heard the famous words of Dr Johnson “When two Englishmen meet, their first talk is of the weather.”? 
Maybe you have or maybe you haven’t, or maybe you have never worried about stereotypes. Well, whatever the case may be, on one splendid day in June at Burghley House, Lincolnshire, UK there were plenty of conversations going on, and not just about the weather, however wet it was – and wet is was indeed.

It was the Midget 50 celebrations and the event showcased a display and line-up of every model of MG Midget’s and Austin Healey Sprite’s from 1961 onwards– stunning little cars from Abingdon, Oxfordshire, UK.
Armed with numerous rolls of expired film and my SLR I set off to capture classic cars, happy faces and the odd rain drop here and there.

The weather wasn’t really on our side as we were greeted by rain on our arrival, but the day called for a celebration and so we soldiered on through the wet grass and had a blast. Kudos to the live band as they helped a great deal with keeping the visitors in sunny moods and high spirits, especially when they played ‘The wheels on the bus go round and round’ – now that was entertaining and got me smiling the whole afternoon. Good job I wasn’t the only one laughing on such a showery day, hooray for classic car enthusiasts and their obsessions. 

I’m not a car person I have to say. I like all things vintage, cameras especially, but I need technical details like a hole in the head or lead in my knee. To me, cars have names and faces and get me from A to B – wherever the mysterious location A or indeed B may be… But that lack of understanding and technical ability has never stopped me, or indeed a lot of other visitors, from enjoying car events. You can find car geeks next to people who like the car because it is pink and ‘smiles’, racing drivers next to Sunday drivers, Marmite lovers next to Marmite haters and older generations next to the very young ones. I’ve actually started to appreciate transport-related rallies, fairs and meetings of all sorts and now tend to spend my summers traveling from one to the other.
And this one was one mighty event, with all those little colourful cars, more or less, lined up on the field in front of Burghley House. Even today I am unaware of why the cars were parked up like they had just been washed up there, but guess there was some artistic thinking involved?! Or an oversight, but hey, I am a designer and just saying.

As the hours passed and the rain settled in properly I started to move my focus from cars to people. I haven’t really tried my hands on field photography and candid images, but one has to start somewhere, and I actually like my results. The multi-coloured umbrellas, cagoules and cars worked rather well against the grey sky and the happy faces one could spot here and there added just that little bit of magic you are searching for on a rainy day.

When it comes to photography, there are uncountable possibilities and techniques you can try out. I’ve always been drawn to landscapes and close-ups, even the odd abstract image, but never even thought about taking people’s portraits. An object holds an identity and has its own memories, similar to a person, and for me those object-interactions have fantastic potential. However, it was about time to photograph the owners and users of those objects. The expressions on some of the faces tell stories in their own right and in combination with the objects they were there to celebrate; you have a whole new page in the book of Midget history. It’s a long way away from portraiture photography on one hand, but also closely related on the other.

Car-person or not, it was a spiffing day filled with tonnes of car-related enthusiasm, excited conversations and interesting snapshots. And one thing that is certain, I will most definitely start to experiment with street photography further. Daily life holds immense possibilities for a photographer no matter what the weather gods have planned. Get out there and enjoy them while the summer lasts!

And so an excellent day ends and one truth has proven itself right once again, if there is the word “celebration” on the invite, a party we shall have no matter what the weather! Cheerio old chaps!

The whole experiment was bringing up more questions than answers, but that’s the fun part of the photographic experiment, isn’t it? I sifted through forums, articles and people to collect the information that I needed and wanted to even start. After a few weeks, I decided to give it a try.  Here’s a list of what I tried:

The Chemistry:

Ilford Ilfosol 3 developer

Ilford Rapid Fix

The Time:

Water pre-soak for 5 minutes at  80 degrees F

All other steps below at 67.9 F

Developer for 7 minutes, let sit for the first 2 minutes, agitate for 30 sec. every minute

Water rinse for 5 minutes

Fix for 8 minutes

Hypo for 1 minute

Final wash for 5 minutes

If your film comes out looking grainy and the black goo is still coming off, rinse it off under running water. Use your fingers to gently rub off the remaining emulsion and you will find your image!  Know I now what Charlie Sheen feels like…I am winning.

*Note that no changes to contrast or brightness were made to the scans*

www.jimslobodian.com

Picture credit: flickr.com/photos/nacente

The nude has been a long standing structure in the art world for centuries. It has, as with nude photography, been seen as iconic, invasive, perverse and beautiful all at the same time.

In its most tasteful form, nude photography tends to lean towards black and white as opposed to color, perhaps this is in line with an argument presented by Susan Sontag in her collection of essays ‘On Photography’ ‘many photographers continue to prefer black and white images, which are felt to be more tactful, more decorous than color – or less voyeuristic and less sentimental or crudely lifelike’. She goes on to disprove this point by merely saying that the photographers of the era she refers to, the 1920s – 1950s, left color to paintings. It’s her initial statement that is of interest, here, as it is from a general consensus point of view, that of the viewer and not the photographer. A view that black and white made the image less voyeuristic, sentimental and lifelike.

The same can be said of most modern nude photographers who produce beautiful nude imagery through black and white images. We accept black and white nudes as pieces of art with less consideration than its color counterparts, which may bring us too close to the subject and may arouse uncomfortable feelings in the viewer.

The way that the model poses does, of course, give the photograph as much artistic relevance as being either black and white or color.

Draped Model, Eugéne Delacroix and Eugéne Durieu, 1854

Step back in time to 1854. A painter and a photographer Eugéne Delacroix and Eugéne Durieu made some of the first artistic nude photographs in Paris. From their series of 32 plates, 18 male, 5 female and 9 featuring both male and female models.

The story goes that the painter Delacroix directed the scenes, and hence the well calculated poses in the set, while Durieu, although, only an amateur at the time operated the camera. Together they crafted one of the most famous and iconic nude photographic images, and a basis for the true artistic sentiment found in the nude photograph.

The model’s pose, turning away from the camera and showing her back, is described as a ‘combination of revealing and concealing, charm and modesty, lasciviousness and humility, eroticism and innocence’. The picture achieves a perfect balance of the key characteristics found in the artistic nude photograph.

‘Draped Model’ is so simple in its concept, well posed and with good lighting. It is a timeless photograph and some of the most striking modern nudes have borrowed influence from it. But in this instance it cannot be the photographer alone who takes the credit. It was a cross over to photography as a means of recording art that Delacroix’s influence helped craft this striking image. His already long spanning career as a painter gave him the vision that was needed in creating the timeless scene. He, unlike many of his peers, accepted photography with open arms. It is said of Delacroix that the new craft enriched his vision and straightened his mode of working.

It is certainly clear from the photograph that it is a pice of fine art but without the painter’s influence, in setting the scene, it would be difficult to image it having had such a lasting influence over the nude as a photograph.

Well…. Lend me your eyes and ears:

I use the medium of photography to engage with my world, capture and record memories and inspirations, but photography isn’t just a tool to me. I rarely leave my house without a camera and I’m extremely happy when I’m out shooting film. I can spend hours snapping away – time flies when you’re having fun – and, understandably, I have played on my friends’ patience when they are with me whilst shooting. But hey, I’m sure you’ll have similar experience – Camera Nerds Unite!

Put simply: Photography excites me, my cameras encourage me – the experimental marriage of expired film and plastic lenses thrills me. The new found process of waiting for a pinhole picture to appear motivates me – I’m hooked on analogue image making and all of its infinite possibilities.
Waiting inspires and intrigues me, I want to know more, to understand what waiting really means. So one thought leads to another and I’m knee-deep in thinking: Can photography be inspired by waiting? How can waiting enable analogue image making to happen? Do I have to be able to see the image I am waiting for? Do I need to be able to see to use photography?
‘Only one way to find out’, I thought, ‘I need to get outside and shoot!’.

And so I packed my camera, some film and someone I truly trusted and went out. My destination: a return trip to the next village via a five minute train ride. My goal: take some photographs documenting my travel. The twist: head out without reliance on vision, going and shooting blind.

I am potentially touching on sensitive ground here, and I am aware that any language used to describe disabilities (in all its’ definitions and senses) is understandably politically charged. Understandings, conventions and language vary from culture to culture and country to county, so please forgive my somewhat childlike ignorance.  I want to learn more and engage with anyone who is interested in sharing experience relating to the material discussed here, so please do get in touch lisa@touchingwetpaint.com .

I returned home after about two hours, rather exhausted, but very happy and inspired to explore this area of photography more. My mind was racing as I developed my film:
Do I need to be able to see what I want to shoot? Well, seeing your photograph before you press the shutter happens almost automatically, doesn’t it? You either see something you’re drawn towards and you snap it, or you have an idea in your head of what you want to shoot – a mental picture. Sometimes it’s a combination of both approaches. So I guess, we can answer the question with a ‘yes’.  However, is the mental picture you have in your head as valid as the actual printed image? Is the idea as effective as the real scene you want to replicate onto two-dimensions? Or is it the other way around? Can a flat image do justice to a three-dimensional idea or world, or are we effectively missing out aspects of the bigger picture? Have we put too much emphasis on the visual and are possibly ignoring other senses?

Whilst pondering such concepts and waiting for my film to dry I came across Evgen Bavčar and something he wrote that I will never forget:

“I know there are always things that escape me, but that’s true of photographers who can physically see. My images are fragile; I’ve never seen them, but I know they exist, and some of them have touched me deeply.”

These words are haunting ever since I read them, and I am incapable of expressing how much these words have touched me. My images are fragile – such a lasting impression. I am unable to put my thoughts into words… I’ve tried to understand how a blind photographer works, how one takes pictures…and then I stop…  all I know is I want to be able to experience those emotions, I want to see my world this way… but I won’t be able to. I am visually impaired by the fact that I can actually see my world.  When I go out with my camera, I see the photo opportunities ahead of me, I can approach a subject and engage with such, I see it – I snap it, I move on.
I won’t be able to experience my photography without sight, at least for now. As long as I can see, I will have to justify my images, in relation to the actual physical representation they are showing, imitating and recording. Are they doing the world justice? I can have my ideas and notions about how I want my image to be, but I am still relying on tools such as my camera, the light, my choice of film and the developing chemicals I choose. I am relying on tools to create my images.
An idea exists in your mind – it’s strong and three-dimensional, it’s vague and it’s two-dimensional, it’s vivid and nebulous, it’s flat and has volume at the same time. When acted on, they become something physical – materialised concepts. Dare I use those educational-charged dreaded words, it’s the intangible made tangible. [Ouhh, I do need to wash my mouth out now…Anyone got some soap?!]

The images you see here are part of the results of my journey into darkness. I feel slightly uncomfortable using those terms – I don’t understand them, I wish I could, and using words I don’t fully comprehend leaves me feeling itchy.
I used my Canon SLR with my Diana lens and shot four rolls of expired colour film. I chose my kit based on the fact that it is the only analogue camera I own, that automatically advances the film. I wanted to use my Holga, but then realised that, once again, I’ve run out of medium format film and shooting sprocket isn’t the easiest operation even with vision, so the Canon it was.
Best choice? No, not at all – I don’t trust the camera enough. I am confident in using it, loading it and carrying it, but we’re not yet on the same page. And believe me, trust is something very important if you’re walking along a busy main road or trying to get on and off trains, all with your eyes closed. However, I’ve already decided that my next journeys will see my Holga and Mamiya, simply because I trust the cameras, so I’ll just file my trip under ‘experimentation’ and move on.

How do you take your pictures? Have you ever really thought about it? Have you ever tried to follow your inner vision and stopped using your eyes to compose the perfect frame?
I am just starting to appreciate this topic and all its areas of investigation, but I’m already obsessed by it – the good kind of obsession though, the warm-cookies-before-bedtime or taking-your-Holga-everywhere kind of obsession – so nothing to worry about for now anyway.
I haven’t shot my masterpiece yet, so will head out again, but not so much to take the perfect picture, but to slowly learn to take photography without using and relying on my eyes. I want to be able to wait for my surroundings to inspire me. I want to wait for the perfect moment. I don’t want to skip ahead and be too fast for myself to catch up. This journey was only the first step into my explorations and I intend to carry on and feed my curiosity and interest as much as I can.

 What do you think?   
   

Thinking that simpler = easier, I turned to my Ansco Shur Shot Jr, a box camera and the most basic camera I own.  After yanking off the springs that work the shutter (to create a B or Time mode), I found that the Jr’s lens (which is on the inside) is difficult to remove.  As in near-impossible.  I struggled a bit, then gave up and turned to my Ansco Shur Shot.  Great, I thought – this one already has a Time mode, I just have to get rid of the lens.  In the process of trying (and failing) to remove the lens on the Shur Shot’s faceplate, I remembered that the Shur Shot also has an equally well-attached lens on the film carrier.  Ugh… back to square one!

The Shur Shot has 2 lenses!

As I sat there, with pieces of both cameras on my dining table, it dawned on me… there might be a way to do this after all!  After a bit of tinkering, I frankensteined the two cameras.  Neither the faceplate nor the film carrier of the Jr had lenses, so I used those plus the body of the Shur Shot.  This also allowed me to have a Time mode and two different pinhole apertures!  As I used the Jr’s film carrier, I get eight 6×9 shots. I call this frankenstein the Pinsco.
More details on the making of the Pinsco can be found here.

The Pinsco!

The past several days have been the coldest of the season so far, with temperatures dipping below -15F and windchills below -30F (-26C and -34C, respectively)!  Lucky for you, I still have to take the dog for walks, so I managed to get some strategically timed (if not overly interesting) outdoor shots.  I was happy that seven of the eight frames turned out!  For next time, I know that I really need to keep this thing steady!

The captions under each photo are the notes I took for each shot.  I’m usually terrible about taking notes, so I taped a piece of paper on the side of the camera – worked like a charm!  This roll was Ilford HP4+ developed in Ilfotec DD-X at 125 (first time using the Ilfotec, too).  I think both the film and the developer have a wide latitude, which I credit for a big part of the success of this roll.

This is my first Pinsco shot ever – of a deserted, snowy park (taken while walking the dog).  This one was taken with the 2nd, bigger aperture, which is actually a thumbtack-hole more so than a pinhole.

2nd aperture; 35 sec; dusk after a sunny, snowy day

Pinsco 2: down the street from my apartment (also taken while letting the dog out)

1 ap; 25 sec; almost noon mostly overcast day

Pinsco 3: nighttime at the Blackbird Cafe, an awesome eatery just downstairs from my office.  Used the 2nd aperture on this one.

2 ap; 120 sec; night at blackbird

Pinsco 4: down the street from my office

1 ap; 25 sec; noon on snowy sunny day

Pinsco 5 was a 14 minute exposure of branches against the moon at night.  Unfortunately, it didn’t turn out.  Fortunately, I set up the shot then ran back inside and waited, so no appendages were lost in the taking of this nonexistent picture.

Pinsco 6: building across the street from my office – boring shot, but this one definitely turned out the best!

1 ap; 3 min; overcast afternoon

Pinsco 7: This was to be a night shot of the street lights and lit trees down the street from my apartment.  It looks like it might have turned out decently, except I accidentally double exposed the shot!  The second exposure is along the lines of Pinsco 8… oops!

1 ap; 6 min; night with streetlights in snow + accidental double exposure in my bathroom

Pinsco 8: Ever wonder what taking your glasses off, washing your hands and then putting your contacts in would look like as a long exposure pinhole shot?  Wonder no more, it looks something like this…

bathroom, contacts

This first roll was far from perfect, but I’m definitely excited about the Pinsco!  I’ve already loaded another roll and temperatures have warmed up a tad, so I’m already back to counting seconds – and working on keeping the Pinsco steady.

After reading through the manual and setting up the wooden box camera I got started with my DIY darkroom, which happened to be my bathroom as there are no windows so it was ideal! Assembling the box which was easy enough, then there was a black card lining to the box which fits inside. The last step was to make the hole and then put the paper into the box (in the dark room). Once it was all set up, I read up on the exposure times and special effects you can achieve with the pinhole camera.

The first set of images were taken inside, with low lighting. I used the guidelines from the instructions but they definitely weren’t exposed long enough as hardly any detail can be seen. I think I managed to over develop this set too! I initially tried to do some of the ‘ghost’ shots where your subject stands in the frame for half the exposure time, then move out of the way for the rest of it. Seen some really good examples of this online, unfortunately mine were just not exposed long enough to work here!

After the first set I decided to try my luck outside at night time. I also knew I needed to add much longer onto the suggested exposure times. I think these were about three/four minutes each. I wanted to try to capture some lighting and see how well the contrast worked, as almost every pinhole guide states how important it is. I didn’t use a tripod for these, I purposely moved around whilst the paper was exposed to see if I could get some interesting light effects/trails.

The third set were taken in the forest after we had snow, it looked very pretty when it was all settled. I wanted to try out the camera in natural sunlight too, and I think it’s worked in my favour as the details seem to be a little more defined on these three. With these I attempted a few different shots on each exposure, works well for giving an eery/spooky look.

My overall thoughts on this kit would be that it’s good fun but also a little tricky to get right. I enjoyed having a few attempts and will certainly be trying more once I get my hands on some more paper! I hope everyone else had fun with their cameras this month too!

I’m a lucky person really – people actually ask me what I’d like for Christmas. However, this time round I was a little stumped – there are cameras that are “fun” or “interesting”, but would I really want to ask for one as a present?

Browsing eBay, though, I stumbled across some gorgeous pinhole cameras made by Cezary Bartczak that would be impossible not to add to Santa’s list. Handmade with wooden finishes and metallic ornamentation,  these were a world away from the matchbox pinhole camera I played with years ago.

I started investigating Cezary’s personal site, and discovered a world of techniques and homemade devices that made me want to crash my bank account. With a couple of cameras on their way in the post, I contacted Cezary, who kindly agreed to answer some questions for Holgablog…

HB: Let’s start at the start – how long have you been making cameras for, and what got you into it to begin with?

I made my first pinhole picture in 2003, with a film SLR camera and a drilled body cap. Shortly after that I found in some photo magazine a description of how to convert a medium format camera into a pinhole. I made my first camera from an Ami (a Polish 120 film camera made out of ‘styropol’). The camera produced very nice pictures, despite a pinhole aperture made with a needle in a piece of beverage can without any sanding.

After couple of years I discovered zone plate photography - I used to work as a Computer-to-Film processor operator and graphic designer in a dodgy printing company. The computers were very slow, and while the film was being processed I had lots of spare time. Browsing the internet, I found zone plate images and tips on how to make them. After that, the processing machine was just downstairs from me…

At the same time I discovered the F295 forum and camera makers group. I noticed that a DIY camera does not need to be a taped shoe box or tin can – it could be an entire craftsmanship. At some point after that, I noticed that pinhole photography and camera making is more exciting to me than “standard” photography.

HB: Your cameras are amazingly thought out and finished. How do you come up with your cameras? How long does it take to turn an idea into reality?

Some ideas grow up very fast, some very slowly. All 120 film type cameras are similar though – once you build one, another is just a mutation – many details are similar. I love to buy and disassemble vintage medium format cameras. Some solutions are forgotten, but they are ingenious and very helpful to me. I also like to browse pinhole photography forums – my favourite is F295.org. People share their ideas, and can help to find solutions.

Some cameras are simple and easy – I made a 35mm camera prototype in one afternoon – I noticed that if you flip the spool in one film canister, construction of the inner workings is much easier. A cardboard prototype was ready and tested, and within another 3 days the first wooden panorama was ready.

But some cameras are difficult in construction and it takes time to put it all together. The medium format anamorphic pinhole (worth looking out for on eBay – Scribe) took many months. I was unsatisfied with the first version – advancing film was very hard due to high film tension. The camera “landed’ on the shelf for couple of months. I come up with a second version, but film loading was very complicated and I put that camera on hold for some more weeks. Fortunately, I later found a solution accidentally while browsing the internet.

I am still improving my cameras, and I think that’s the key to quality. My first camera was only painted black inside and sanded on the film guides. Now, though, there is a lot of detail – copper foil covered film guides, foam and a steel spring on the take-up spool, and so on.

HB: Do you have a personal favourite among the cameras you make?

It’s hard to say, but I think that they are the Vermeer 66 and 35mm panorama (see Cezary’s list of cameras for more on these). The former because I like square format so much, and because that was my first model. The latter because the camera is very easy in use – if you have some experience you don’t even need the exposure chart. I like them both because they are very robust and handy. I also like the curved plane cameras- the 6×13.5 cm is my favourite.

HB: What cameras do you use yourself in every day life?

I still have some cameras in my bag. Firstly my 6×4.5 cm pinhole with short focal length (25mm). I call that camera “Frankenstein” – I made a lot of modifications, but after two years it is still unfinished. The shutter design has been changed many times alone.

My favourite is a vintage Agfa and polish Druh conversions – both are cheap bakelite cameras from the early 60’s. The first one has a 0.2mm pinhole, and the second one a zone plate and its lenses removed to achieve shorter focal length – around 34mm. I also have a medium format Agfa Clack converted into a pinhole.

Sometimes I also use a Nikon SLR (I know, shame on me )

HB: You have some really interesting zone plate images on your site. Are you into many different photography techniques?

I like zone plate very much. Similar to this are photon sieves – the patterns are more complicated than zone plates, and instead of transparent rings, photon sieves’ rings consist of small circles.

I still do not have enough time, but I like to start with alternative processes. I’ve just tested simple methods like coffee and tea film developer, and I’m gathering chemistry for cyanotype and salt printing. Another idea is simple optics – I’m thinking about cameras with fresnel lenses and diaphragms.

HB: If you had no restrictions, what would be your dream camera to make?

I have some reasonable ideas and some crazy ones. I’m thinking about a new series of pinhole cameras in modern design – stainless steel and exotic wood, cubic shapes, a high tech look but low-fi inside. Another ‘reasonable’ idea is a large format camera – 5×7 or 8×10 inch, with bellows.

A ‘crazy’ idea I have is a huge format pinhole – made from a 10-20 feet cargo container. (I’m still looking for someone who will pay for negatives and chemistry though…)

HB: Finally, what exciting new models do you have planned for 2011?

At this moment, two new projects are already finished. The first one is a 24x65mm panoramic pinhole. Last year I made a couple of cameras like that just for tests, and I very like it. They are very small and handy, you can carry all equipment (camera, mini tripod and light meter) in your pocket. This camera will be available in terracotta/brown finishing.

The second one is my first attempt at a 35mm curved-plane pinhole, with a frame size of 24x90mm. The inner workings are ready, I just need to think about camera body design.

I also have a new 120 film camera – a flat 6x9cm frame size pinhole with an ultra-wide 24mm focal length and sharp 0.1mm pinhole aperture. The camera has passed first tests, and will be available soon.

Thanks again to Cezary – and watch this space for a more in-depth look at one of his cameras, once we’ve run some film through…