Don’t Over-think!

For the past few weeks, I have been scanning in 35mm slides from the 1970s.  These are not found images from the antique store, but from my camera, from 1975-1980.  One of my goals this year is to scan all my slides (or at least the best ones) from my early days of photography, and in the process, remove the slides from the clear plastic sleeves in binders, and transfer to metal storage boxes.   My scanner, my trusty Epson V700, does an excellent job with scanning in these colorful little windows to the past, and much more efficiently than using a digital camera to transfer the analog into  a digital image.  Trust me on this, as I have been scanning slides and negatives in various formats for as many years as we have had scanners available.  I also have all the equipment I need to copy via a DSLR. The workflow and the results via the Epson V700 are superior.    

The simple SLR that started me on my journey

Okay, let’s put the scanning aside, and have a conversation about the photographs, which is the real subject here.    My first 35mm camera was an Ihagee Exa 1a. Why?   As a gift for a teen interested in photography, it was possibly the cheapest new SLR available in 1974 from a NYC camera store, and I was thrilled with receiving it.    The downside with my Exa 1a is that it had a waist-level viewfinder, no meter, and a limited range of shutter speeds (1/30, 1/60, 1/125 and 1/175 sec. ).    In addition, the Meyer-Optic Domiplan 50mm f/2.8 lens is not what I would call a "great lens."  It was obviously good enough for a teenager learning about photography.    My only photography guide was the Kodak Pocket Exposure Guide, which I still have.    I did not have an external meter.  So, as I learned to photograph with this camera, I relied on that Kodak Pocket Exposure Guide for my settings.    I shot b&w film, color print film, and transparencies.    

fits in a back pocket

As I think back, I had to wonder why I shot slides so often after 1975, and my wife reminded me that it was probably the cost.    Believe me, the 70s were the last time a person with a low-income could live pretty well,  and I was a student with not much money.    As it turns out, it was cheaper to shoot slide film back then, as the film and processing was less expensive than color prints. I checked with a 1979 issue of Popular Photography, and the price to process and mount a 20 exposure roll of Ektachrome was less than $2.00, and the price of a roll of Ektachrome was probably around the same price. Some places offered a 20-exposure roll Ektachrome 64 for $3.65, including processing; about the same price as Kodachrome 64.  Since I was not in tune with the best offerings via mail (hey, no Internet then!!), I am pretty sure I purchased my film at the local drug store, Woolworth’s or K-Mart, and sent it out for processing.  In today’s dollars, that $3.65 translates to just less than $15.00, which would be pretty damn cheap now for a roll of film and processing!    

Feb. 1975. The view from the house I grew up in, Parishville, NY
Ektachrome.

In hindsight, I am happy that I chose to shoot the majority of my images on slides -- the colors have kept pretty well from those 1970s images, and because I didn’t have a lot of extra money, I didn’t shoot like I do now. However, it is also true that I was not a trained photographer with a plan.  In looking in these scanned images, I also realized one other thing - I did pretty damn well with the limited equipment that I owned, and my exposures were pretty much on target most of the time.  That means I used sunny-16 and intuition for all of my shots.    

That brings up the title for this entry - "Don’t Over-think." If I could use a really simple SLR nearly 50 years ago, with slide film, no meter, and 50mm f/2.8 lens, how is it that today, so many people are obsessed with the smallest details in exposures? I see newcomers to photography, especially film, needlessly obsessing over how much to adjust for a given exposure. While my Kodak Pocket Exposure Guide gave me the fundamentals, there is no absolute in photography.  Discerning the nuances in light and exposure, especially in landscapes, comes down to experience, but there is always the element of "luck."  Maybe I was just lucky many times, and certainly cannot attribute my results to experience.  The thing is, I didn’t over-think what I was doing. I believe that over-thinking is what kills creativity and the moment. As I look over these images from 1975-1979, I certainly find ones that could have used more exposure -- and the Exa 1a had a limited number of shutter speeds, including B, and I did not own a tripod.  Perhaps if I’d been given a camera like a Praktica SLR with a prism and a full range of shutter speeds, I would have been even more on target, but there’s no way to know that now.  

Feb. 1976, Syracuse Univ. dorms. A typical winter scene in
Syracuse, but with less snow. Kodachrome 64.

Maine, summer of 1976. Kodachrome 25

Amenia, NY, Jan. 1977. Ektachrome

Ice storm, Syracuse, NY. It was so bad we could skate on the
sidewalks. Feb. 1976, Kodachrome 64

When I replaced that Exa 1a with a Pentax MG in the early 1980s, I finally had a camera with an exposure meter -- but guess what?  Relying on that aperture-priority only camera also gave me some bad exposures, because I relied on the camera to get it right, instead of my intuition. Overall, it was a trade-off. Today, I am a much better photographer, and know when to adjust for a given lighting situation.  But still, in those spartan days of photography, my youth and  inexperience also allowed me to take a chance without worrying about failure. Sometimes I got it perfectly right, and sometimes I didn’t. For example, the photo taken at the SUNY ESF Woodsmen’s event in the fall of 1975 shows me that I wasn’t afraid to get close to the action - the couple on the 2-person crosscut saw with the wood chips flying towards the camera is captured pretty well. I’ll show some other examples with commentary, as well, but those old slides are also peeks back into the 70s of my college years.

SUNY College of Environmental Science & Forestry fall Woodsmen's
BBQ in Tully, NY.  Oct. 1975, Ektachrome.

October 1975, Chittenango falls, NY. Kodachrome 64

Syracuse Univ. football game at the old Archbold Stadium,
October 1975, Kodachrome 64.

So, my advice for those folks getting into photography is to shoot what you know - and learn from it. You don’t have to travel to exotic places for great photographs - everyday activities and your immediate surroundings will mean much more the farther removed you are from them. As I look over these old shots, I realize that I was living in the moment, and photographing what was important to me at the time. I didn’t do it for posterity - though now those images have value in seeing people and places at another time, I did it for me.    

Speaking of in the moment... Fall 1976, Syracuse, NY, Ektachrome

Overthinking your photography is a cruel blow to serendipity.    Be in the moment, trust your instincts, and don’t fret if your camera is one-stop off, or you don’t have the best lens money can buy, None of that matters.  People obsess over details that don’t matter in the long run.   If you have a photography exhibit, nobody will care what lens and camera you used, what film (if it was film), filter, or other attribute used to make the photograph. It’s all about the image. 

Algonquin Mountain summit, Adirondacks, NY
Summer 1977, Ektachrome

In high school, I wanted to be an entomologist, and that’s what I ended up becoming, and doing for 40 years. Nobody told me that I could have been a photographer - and had I taken photography seriously as a profession (which I never thought of), the 1970s would have been the most perfect time to be an aspiring photographer.    So, it was never my dream to be a photographer - I just enjoyed it. I look back at those images from the 70s and I am amazed that I did as well as I did with so little knowledge.    

That's me, summer of 1977, in the Adirondacks.
My camera, taken by my buddy, Dave Rosher. Ektachrome.

January 1977, Twin Lakes, CT. Ektachrome.

So, perhaps the lesson here is that not only should you not over-think it, but shoot for yourself.    Don't worry about what others might think.  All too often I see posts by people on places like Reddit (r/photography) who are unsure if they are good enough, or are afraid to take up photography because they lack knowledge.    You can’t get better without actually using your camera. Today’s digital and analog wonders will outperform what I used in the 70s by a huge margin. You already have tools at your disposal that will make a perfect exposure 90% of the time.  The part that makes the difference is YOU. Get out there and shoot everything that interests you, and over time you will discover what really motivates your photography, and what you enjoy the most. That’s the direction you’ll go. 

Some Thoughts at a Strange Time

First Day of Spring, 2020

Well, today marks the vernal equinox, and it is my first spring in Western North Carolina. Due to the COVID-19 virus, this has to be the oddest spring that I can remember. Of course, here at my house, we are pretty much keeping to ourselves as we usually do.  Retirement is the perfect time to be able to not have to do anything, but I feel for those that have kids home from school, the people who have to work, and endure the anxiety and uncertainty that this pandemic has caused. It really is unprecedented in the modern era. The rapidity of how things have gone topsy-turvy has amazed me.  No more eating out or going to a bar for a pint in the afternoon (which of course, is a minor thing to us, but no so much for the restaurant industry). The tailspin of our financial markets doesn't surprise me in the least, as I have felt that it's a house of cards for the past 3 years. I am not sure where this will all end up, but I can only hope that efforts to reduce the impact of the virus will have the desired effect, and that the lock-down of our society is only a short hiccup.  However, I do think that the ramifications of what's transpired over the past month (and in future months)  will remain with us for some time - the fragility of our health care system, the gutting of our governmental acuity and the lack of resources to those that need it the most.  It's hard to not have dark thoughts these days, and art isn't immune to these events -- it's often a mirror of the time.

It's a bit trite to say "go lose yourself in what you love to do in these times." I do get it it -- "go do photography and forget about the troubles of the world."  Except that it's not that easy when the troubles are everywhere, not somewhere else.   So, while I can't ignore the current state of affairs, I can try and at least do what I love, and buffer the events a bit.  I generally don't write about current events in RCB, but I think we are all a bit overwhelmed by it all.

So, what about photography?

What I have been doing of late is going back and scanning in b&w negatives from 2008 and earlier.  I'm working on another issue of Monochrome Mania, and I found that I had some really good images that were from rolls that were never scanned in, save for a couple of frames.  One thing that I have found is that you should never think that the scans you did a long time ago are going to be satisfactory later on. This is due partly to better scanners and software, but also due to changing attitudes and how we view our work over time.  In the museum world, it's a fact that changing technologies mean that digital images will be replaced with better versions every decade.  However, that's only part of the story.

From my own experience, I know how easy it is to see a fresh set of images where I connect with the immediacy of the day that I took them.  It doesn't matter whether they are digital-borne or scanned from a freshly developed set of negatives, there is a connection to the event of the making of the images.  That connection often influences our evaluation of the images.  Do you remember when you shot your first roll of film and developed it yourself?  I know I was in high school, and though by my standards today, they were not very good images, at the time, I thought they were great.  It can also be the reverse - in 2008, I shot a lot of film while on a trip to Sleeping Dear Dunes with my buddy Marc Akemann.  We were attending our first Photostock event in Emmet Co., MI, and we took a day to go to Ghost Forest of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.  I shot several rolls of film there that day. One of the rolls was Kodak Technical Pan film, and I don't remember how I developed it - though I suspect is was in Technidol developer.  The negatives were thin and there were lots of spots on them.  I don't think I thought they were very good, and I had other rolls shot from there on APX 100 that I liked much better. Anyhow, I know that at the time, my scanner was not as good as I have now (Epson Perfection V700 Photo), and after scanning in the Tech Pan negatives, I saw many that were really very good images.  After spending a few minutes cleaning up this one negative, I love how the ghost forest looked ghostly.

The ghostly ghost forest. Lensbaby lens, N8008, Kodak TechPan. 2008.

I'll have to have this one printed digitally, as a traditional optical print would be one big pain in the ass to spot and clean up.

A quite different image. Nikon FE, APX 100 film. 2008.

Going back to these older sheets of negatives has allowed me to go on a bit of memory lane as well, and also drove home that I have a LOT of sheets of negatives that I haven't looked at in some time.  If I estimate that on average, I shot a minimum of 100 rolls per year for the past 20 years, that's 2000 sheets of negatives.  Of course, not all of those are worthy of rescanning, but there are lots that I need to look at for material for upcoming zines!

So, to summarize:

It's a good thing to go back and look at images you shot long enough ago that there is no longer an emotional connection to the event of shooting the image. If an image is good, it transcends that connection, and creates a new one - an appreciation of the image itself, not of the event it's associated with.

Review your old work and learn from it.

Re-scanning with better tools and software is a good thing when you can do it.

Our perception of our own work changes with time, and we can get motivated by looking at earlier work we've done.  Maybe it was the camera, the film, the lens, or your vision that helped make an image something truly special.  How has that changed?

Be well, be safe, and document this crazy world.  I hope that you can look at images from 2020 in 2025 and find some images that showed what made the year so special.

2017...The Film Strikes Back

With the recent, head-spinning announcement by Kodak to produce Ektachrome this year, I was not prepared for the release of a new (actually, old) monochrome film from Film Ferrania.  The sample images I have seen that were shot with it are really luscious, with a pleasing richness that you'll never get from a digital.  The 80 ISO is a nice speed, as not all of us want 400 ISO films for everything.


Then, Bergger anounced that they will be releasing a 400 ISO b&w film, Pancro 400, which will be available in 35mm, 120, and 4x5! I am less familiar with Bergger, but I did know of their paper.  I wondered if the Bergger film the same as  the JCH Street Pan, which has had very good reviews, but the JCH film was made by Agfa.  I confess that I have not yet purchased any myself.

So, with these announcements, is 2017 the year when film strikes back?  It is no secret that more people have come BACK to using film, for a multitude of reasons, but I believe the most obvious reason is that film is a creative medium.  In terms of market, digital has a large hold over traditional film. However, film remains strong among those that appreciate the art of photography, the sheer joy of the process, and being in control of your image.  Not to mention, that in a world where just about everyone takes photos, film remains a tangible, physical reality that transcends time and digital resources.  I got thinking about this when I scanned in some slides from the late 1970s that I had taken with my Exa 1a SLR.  Mind you, I was using slide film, sunny-16, and never had a meter of any sort. Yet, I have some pretty decent shots from then. I didn't need any software to view them in their plastic sleeves within the binder to appreciate them.  Scanning went well, and also allowed me to do a bit of color correction. Yet, the originals are safely tucked away.

South Beech Street, Syracuse, NY Feb. 1978.

Dave Rosher with his Spotmatic, summer, 1977.

Adrienne, fall of 1978.

 I am not here to bash the digital realm -- it is a necessity of every-day communication, consumption, and path of ideas.  Without the internet and the invention of the magic of HTTP and its subsequent eruption of the web as we now know it, we would be back to using something like CompUServe (for those of you who do not know of a world without internet -- we got along just fine.)  We are a visual culture, and photography is an extension of that.  We can still use film and share online, share via printed works, share via exhibitions, and yes, share via Instagram if we so choose.

I think it would also behoove the primary SLR manufacturers to rethink their marketing strategy.  While sales of DSLRs have dropped due to the smaller size and capabilities of the mirrorless cameras, smartphones have decimated point and shoot sales.  If Nikon, Canon, and Pentax were to release at least a decent 35mm SLR again, it would be a great thing.  All Nikon has to do is manufacture the F100 again-- certainly the best AF SLR that wasn't an F5 or F6.  Canon could produce an EOS film camera (not the plastic Rebels, please), and Pentax ought to have a K1000 made once again.  Do you know how many people think the K1000 is the best student camera ever?  It amazes me.  Yes, there are a lot of used film cameras available, but having a new model would certainly not be a bad thing.

 Look at what people will pay for a cheap plastic Lomography camera.  If Joe Blow spends $500 on a 120 Lomo LC-W, he'll spend $1200 for a new Nikon film camera.

So, maybe it's time to have people petition the camera makers for new film cameras.  I don't know what more digital can offer anyone that it doesn't already.  Meanwhile, we have some new films to try out!

Edit: After writing this post, I found this post by Zorki Photo, which is a very good article.

Projects can keep you fresh.

Day 8 of "Solstice to Solstice"

It's just about the end of the year, and while 2016 has seen its share of bizarre events, disasters, celebrity deaths, and potential end of life as we know it-- on a personal note, I can't complain.  The bigger picture is beyond my sphere of influence, and rather than let fear and/or anger lead my way, I have to do what I know best, and that's to do photography.  I'm not an "event photographer" nor am I an "adventure photographer."  My work is more often introspective, about nature, slivers of life and places, and of course, a lot of it is on film.  If you look through my images on Flickr, where I have been since 2004, you'll have a pretty good idea of what I photograph.  Probably over a  third of the images there are on film.   I continue to shoot it a lot -- in fact, I think 2016 might just be the year that I have shot well over 100 rolls - close to 130.   Developing my own C-41, E-6, as well as B&W has saved me a lot of money -- which of course, can be used to buy more film!

So, with all the film have I shot, what have I done with it?  I have long-term projects that accrue by the fact that the subjects are easily grouped -- Michigan post offices would be one such project. Recurring images of water in various states would be another, and while I had an exhibit in 2102 of winter water images, there are always more.  Sometimes, a single roll can be a small project, and that is always a fun challenge.  I feel that it's good to have some goals and  projects to keep one engaged, no matter what your endeavor. I rarely announce a photography goal, but this year, I am doing a "Solstice to Solstice" project, where I upload one image taken that day, from the Winter to the Summer Solstice -- basically, 6 months. That's not really a project I can do on film, and I decided to use just one camera for that, a Nikon D3200.  It's lightweight, takes different lenses, and while lacking features of my workhorse (and some may say outdated) D200, it allows me plenty of creativity.  So, on December 21, I shot and uploaded Day 1.  I hope to finish with consecutive images on Wed., June 21, 2017.  The idea that I have to produce an image for each day is challenging, and it has to be a worthwhile image.  Half a year's worth.  I think it'll be fun, sometimes frustrating, but I want it to be worth the effort.  I'll know in June.

It's not a bad thing to set some goals, and I think it helps one grow as a photographer.  Maybe you would like to be better at doing portraits.  Learn about lighting, and experiment. Enlist friends or family to pose for you -- find out what your "style" is.  Maybe you'll find that b&w works better for you than color.  Or not.  You'll never know if you don't try.

AuTrain Bay, Pentax 6x7, August 2016

Take a single camera and lens combo and use it a lot.  We all get that "gear-acquisition syndrome" or GAS.  I'll be the first to admit it.  But what if you found that just using a 50mm lens or a 28mm lens for a lot of photography made you a better photographer?  Give it a try.  There are many "projects" one can do in 6 months.

To go to the other extreme, shoot one Polaroid a day.  It's been done by many, but what about you? What story do you have to tell?  Six months of Impossible Project film might be pretty expensive though. Hell, one month of IP film would be expensive, so 6 months would be about $750.  Make those shots count!

Since I have been on winter break (one of the perks of working at a university), I have had time to do some darkroom cleanup, mix up more C-41, and process a lot of color film.  Some of it dates back to June!   Scanning is going fine, and yes, while it takes time, I enjoy the results.

Kalamazoo, MI, July, 2016. Canon EOS 2000.

FPP recording  session, my house, Feb., 2016. Minolta XG-M.

Princess Phones, Kiwanis, December 2016, Minolta X-700

UM Art Museum windows, Dec. 2016, Minolta X-700

Berkeley, CA. Nikon FG, April 2016

Hocking Hills, OH. Nikon F3HP, May, 2016

Matthaei Botanical Gardens, Nikon FE, Feb., 2016