Rainy Days and Mondays

Macro shooting is not something I typically enjoy doing on film. The fact is, digital is just so much better in so many ways for this application, why bother? That said, it is always an interesting challenge to try to do things the old fashioned way, just to see what your forebears had to contend with. Once in a while you end up with a satisfying result. It is good to know that you don't actually *need* technology, it just is incredibly convenient. So when I discovered this molted snake skin outside the studio door, I knew what I had to do..

Tasting notes: Leica R6, Leica 100 mm f/4 macro lens. Svema blue sensitive film.

Precious

A friend of mine is what folks refer to as a shade tree mechanic. Which means he's a writer, but he fixes exotic cars in his backyard workshop in order to put food on the table. Over the years, he's accumulated a few pretty fancy cars himself, such as a Maserati from the 1980s, just like in one of the early 'Rocky' movies. He let me drive it one time, admonishing me to take it easy, man. But he needn't have worried. I was so uptight about putting a dent on the damn thing that I drove like a person twice my age. 

Which reminds me, I have two rolls of color IR film sitting in the fridge next to the eggs and butter. It is kind of like owning a Maserati (guessing here). I've been reluctant to shoot it because once it's gone, that is it. Preciousness sure is a double edged sword.

Tasting notes: Leica R6, Summicron-R 35mm, color IR film cross processed in C41. Jackson, WY.

At close of day

As a counterpoint to the Irish poets featured the past couple of days, let's hop over to Wales for a visit with Dylan Thomas this morning. I saw this graffito scrawled on an outdoor chalkboard at a nearby university and decided it would make a fun photograph. It was shot using a Leica R6 using a 35 mm lens and Bergger Panchro 400 film. I've sent this image to friends as a birthday card numerous times. I've often wondered why a college student would chose this particular poem of Thomas's, as it seems like more of an old man's poem, at least at first blush. Then again, maybe it was a creaky old professor raging against the dying of the light who snuck out into the good night to leave his mark. If so, it was probably the most radical thing he'd done in 30 years. He must have felt like a total badass.

Emulsion compulsion

For me, and I think for many, the past week has been an incredible energy suck. The only thing I really want to say is that having a daily studio practice where I just try to show up to make work has helped me not get completely mired in a doom spiral. I wish the same for you.

One of the distinct pleasures of analog photography is the possibility of working with specialized or even unique emulsions. This could mean shooting a long-expired, even out of production emulsion, working with a stock rated at ISO 0.6, or finding a cache of film that is used in surveillance cameras for pennies on the dollar and rolling it yourself.

You really do never know what you are going to get. As an example, here is a shot taken in Jackson WY on color IR film, perhaps the most unique (and expensive) emulsion I've ever used. This film is no longer manufactured, and I paid about $20 for a 24 exposure roll of the stuff. I kept it in the freezer next to some gorgeous scallops until my trip. The film results in an image with a very unique look, that is for sure, but is it too much of a gimmick?

For increased credibility, I'll add that the photograph was made using the Leica R6 camera and the yummy 35 mm f/2 lens (Summicron in Leicaspeak). For me, the dark band of magenta/purple at the bottom really anchors the composition, and makes the image work, but not everyone would find the color palette appealing. Many might have preferred the scallops, actually.

The dumbest thing I've ever done...

... photographically speaking.

A few years ago, we had a family reunion of sorts in Jackson, WY. It was the time it snowed in May. Wild stuff. It was also the time I made the stupidest mistake ever with my photo gear.

I decided to bring the Leica R6 as my main rig with the pocketable Rollei 35 as a sweet back-up. I was armed with the well respected 35 mm Summicron as well as the cheapish 28-70 mm Leica zoom. The latter is likely a rebranded Tokina or Sigma, but it seemed like a good, relatively compact walking around lens. 

For today's images, I was using Kodak Ektachrome 100 which I had every intention of processing in normal E-6 chemistry. I usually wait until I have 8-10 exposed rolls and then process them all at once so that the chemicals don't rot on the shelf. But I just wasn't shooting much E-6 at the time, so I made the decision to cross process in C-41 color chemistry. I know that the X-pro look can be over done, but I do really like the way these images came out. You'll note that the lens has a little geometric distortion. :) But the image does capture the mood I experienced on this walk.

Making images for yourself

Sometimes we make photographs just for ourselves, or we hold particular images dear for personal reasons (including vanity). I'm not talking about snapshots -- of course, we all take plenty of those, as evidenced by the constant lack of free memory on our phones. I'm referring to considered or even artful images that we make because we feel compelled to push the shutter button, or shots we become fond of after seeing the scans or prints or after the passage of time. 

Often enough, other viewers don't give damn about about these personal favorites. Like the time I took a picture of a dozen farm fresh eggs and texted it to my brother. This garnered the response, "Why the hell would you take a picture of a bunch of eggs?" He was not jazzed about 'tones'. Sorry. I should have just savored the image on my own.

A couple of years ago we were visiting Nashville. It was a hot and humid Southern summer day, par for the course, and, furthermore, the building was not air conditioned. I was very deliberately lining up the composition below with the sculpture partially veiled by the window treatments, when a small puff of wind caused the curtains on the left of the frame to billow out. That was the decisive moment for me, so I took the photograph.

I'm very fond of this image, it is a personal favorite. It captures a certain truth about the South for me, and I like the mixed lighting. But I knew it would not have wide appeal, and, sure enough, when I shared it on social media, it got zero love. So it goes, I guess. (Details: Leica R6, 35 mm f/2, Portra 400).