Making pictures and eating … together? If there are two things I love its photography and macaroni and cheese. So how could I bring together my avocation and what I consider to be an entire food group? Go to the Bloomsburg Fair Mac & Cheese Festival in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania. I recently found out about this and thought it could be a great photo op for my work towards the Monalog Collective’s “Visions of America” project I’ve previously written about. Not bad … make some pictures, try 10 mac and cheese samples, check out the Biergarten, and get a souvenir glass. Worth the $25 price of admission for sure. About two hours from my house, this confluence of art and gastronomic delight would neatly fit within my two hour plan rules … I’ve written about that too. Is this great or what!!! Well, that was the plan.

The problem is that sometimes plans or best intentions don’t work out for any number of reasons. In this case, I had one of my occasional bouts with benign vertigo. What is benign vertigo you ask? According to the Internet it’s a condition that exists when tiny “canalith particles (otoconia) break loose and fall into the wrong part of the semicircular canals of the inner ear.” It’s a little disconcerting when you get out of bed and the room starts spinning around or when you happen to fall down for no particular reason.

This situation was going on for a few days, but I had got an appointment with a therapist on Saturday morning. Perfect. She would put me through some positional changes designed to shift the pesky little particles back to where they belonged and I would be quickly on my way!  The car was packed and I thought I would leave directly from her office and drive the roughly 100 miles to cheesy heaven.

Turned out to be a little more severe then expected. While going through the positioning motions things started to spin really, really fast. Warp factor 8, but hey, no problem. Getting ready to leave she told me that I might feel a bit off, tired, dizzy or just not myself for 24 hours. In other words and it might be best not to go. Right. Got in my car and started to drive. Ok, I didn’t feel so great and pulled over a few minutes later until things felt a little more normal. Feeling a little better I figured I’d start driving again. All’s well until about two minutes down the road when what I’m seeing appears to be coming towards me then racing back to where it was. Not good.

Yeah, I hate when someone is right and I can’t do what I want #@!$%^. I pulled over, collected myself and drove home at a moderate speed. When I arrived, my wife was happy to see me. She agreed with the therapist which meant she was right too. Damn! What to do? Get into bed and zone out for three hours or so. When I woke up I felt a lot better. Problem was that I had missed the opportunity to get to the festival.

I felt bad, and the $25 ticket was the least of it. Missing out on all that gooiness, what might have been some great photo opportunities and the experience I would have had making those pictures. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I think about pictures I hope to make. I actually see them in my head. Sort of my own version of “previsualization”! In this case I was thinking about the people I would encounter for the last couple of days, what they might look like and pictures I would make. Oh well, didn’t happen.

As in life, there is often disappointment in photography. Either, the light isn’t right, what you expected turns out to be a nothing, your compositions stink, there’s something wrong with the negative, or something comes up that causes you not to be able to go. It’s easy to feel sorry for yourself over a lot of important and unimportant things, like missing a Mac & Cheese Festival, and use that as an excuse to get down on yourself, or worse yet to stop what you’re doing. Don’t do that!

So what am I going to do? I took it easy for the rest of the weekend, just like the therapist and my wife recommended. Now I’m refreshed, ready to make some good pictures and catch up on my darkroom backlog.

And maybe I can talk my wife into making some Mac & Cheese this week.

Stay well,

Michael

About a year and a half ago I wrote about my acquisition of Leitz Focomat IC and 2C enlargers. That’s right … the holy grails baby! Right? I wrote about this in an entry entitled My Darkroom … Opportunity or Excess? A lot more time than expected has gone by, but I thought it would be entertaining to bring you up to speed on where I am regarding these two babies. Here is part of what I wrote before:

“I now have sitting in my darkroom what many consider the King (2C) and at a minimum, the Crown Prince (1C) of enlargers … the Leicas of enlargers!  And of course, no diffusion color heads and none of the convenience I love so much!  And yeah, my mighty Devere is still here (with diffusion color head) and it’s not going anywhere thank you.

So what the $%^$&^@? Is this opportunity or complete and foolish excess?  I have to go out and buy some damn VC filters for starters! I’ve never spoken about darkroom GAS before and had never experienced it. Was I now? To be completely honest, I don’t know. Even worse was this just another Covid-19 purchase like so many people have made?  Or was I falling under a magic spell cast by elves from Wetzlar past?  It’s known that many have succumbed to their hypnotic siren calls … myself included. Could I resist their charms now?

So now I feel I need to write about this, to express myself, even if none of the answers exist yet. Will the truth finally emerge?  I eagerly await and I stand ready to be judged.

In the meantime it’s going to take a little time to sort things out. I can see that I will probably need to extend my enlarging table to handle three heavy beasts, and I need to get a few missing parts and another Zone VI timer (none of which grow on trees).  I’ll let you know how it goes … but if anyone has any thoughts I’d love to hear from you!”

Shortly thereafter I wrote an entry called The Focomats are Making Their Presence Known … Am I Going Down the Rabbit Hole? Here’s part of what I said:

“Now for the really fun part, getting a few missing pieces and figuring how to use these beasts as they were meant to be used. I finally managed to get instruction booklets for each enlarger, but of course they are for older models and don’t provide the most “how to”. I think the IC will be more straightforward and I found an interesting YouTube video on the 2C. Unfortunately the person while looking very knowledgeable is speaking Chinese. I am sure it would have been helpful but $#%@^&*!  Then, I couldn’t get the housing that holds the 60mm and 100mm lenses to shift positions for use; the mechanism was jammed. Again #@$%^$#@%.  After taking things apart I found that a tiny, tiny, cylindrical bearing was jammed and one was missing.  Yet another $%#^%$^ moment!  I needed my neighbor’s help again. Without his help the remaining bearings would certainly fall out and scatter to who knows where (well a few did, but I was lucky to track them down).

Only those pesky Wetzlar elves could have designed such a thing (they had a reason for everything they did, didn’t they?), and even though I was able get things working again sans the missing bearing, deep down I knew it might not be right. I mean it seems to be working, but it’s not Leitz ultimate perfection, is it.

That damn tiny part is on my mind. Perhaps I am losing all sense of reality because I have begun to see if I can locate or fabricate one if necessary @#$%^&!

I’m also beginning my hunt for the missing negative masks I will need, but think I might have a line on some new ones if necessary from Kienzle in Germany.  And then there are two tiny knurled screws to hold a light bulb socket in place to illuminate the enlargement indicator scale and the red filter that goes underneath the lens.  Why not be a completest? After all, this is a Leica isn’t it? Kienzle is known for supporting these wacky things as well as making their own fine autofocus enlargers. I have communicated with them and we will see that they have to say.

I know it’s all worth it, right … or am I beginning to slowly lose my mind?  Someday I hope to know.”

Ok, let’s fast forward shall we?

Well, I finally contacted Kienzle. There weren’t any issues with the 1C, but I needed a number of parts for its bigger brother. And of course I needed to get the VC filters.  No problem except trying to communicate with Kienzle concerning the damn tiny, tiny, cylindrical bearings and one or two other little parts which I can’t remember what they were for.  They had to scavenged from other enlargers and their cost reflected that %$^&@$! The other parts I needed were manufactured by Kienzle … the under the lens red filter and the negative masks for 35mm, 2 ¼, 6×7 and 6×9. OK, I just wanted to be prepared or be a completist.

All the parts arrived and I was finally able to get everything installed. Then I got diverted by a few things that can happen when you work and have about twenty other things going on in your life like running a photographic collective. No problem, I finally got back to the enlargers only to realize that the autofocus system in the 2C was shall we say, not focusing as it should #@$%^! I had manuals for both enlargers and was able to figure out how to get the IC to focus and stay that way as you raised or lowered the enlarging head. The 2C wasn’t so simple and the Leitz manual was fairly useless. It was easy to figure out as with the IC, that by adjusting the focusing helical the lenses were screwed into that you could focus them for a given height. The problem was moving the head up and down. Solving this mystery turned out to be a bit of a process. First I remembered that a new friend of mine in the UK had a 2C. Surely he could be of help. After a Zoom session we figured out that a small knob on the right side of the enlarger was disengaged. Nowhere could I find any mention of this part! Because it was disengaged, the cams on the left side of the enlarger that control focus as you move the enlarger head up or down were not fully engaged. For now I only care about focusing with the 100mm lens, as my 35mm work will be handled by the 1C. Eventually I will get to the 60mm lens but I can only take so much drama at one time! The so-called “dolphin” shaped cam that works with the 100mm lens (yes it is shaped like a dolphin!) wasn’t fully engaged. Now it is!!! Thanks Gary!!!

Ok, baby steps. Still not there yet. I had to start scouring the Internet for clues. First, I found a thread that discussed this problem. Thankfully it was in English! I read and reread it but couldn’t fully make sense of it. Then I found a manual put together be a user that was so much better than anything Leitz published. Unfortunately it was written in German. No problem …Google Translate to the rescue … sort of. Then I located a site that discussed my problem in Japanese. Got that translated too. The trouble with machine translation is that it’s not perfect so you have to do the best you can. In any case, with all three documents in hand … well actually on my laptop … I went downstairs to my darkroom and was able to make some sense of things. Success was achieved after some fiddling around with the dolphin shaped cam and its fine tuning gizmo that could only be accessed by first loosening the cam’s three large screws and then moving the head up and down to make it accessible for adjustment with the tiniest of jeweler’s screw drivers.

A couple of hours later and it seemed to work! Then the next day I decided to do it over because I felt the lens helical was unscrewed too much. I fixed this by changing the setting of the vertical adjustment ring at the bottom of the enlarger column to where it should have been in the first place based on the height of my easel. Then I put a couple of drops of oil in all of the marked lubrication holes in both enlargers. Finally I windexed the 2C’s glass negative carrier.

I think I’ve almost made it to the finish line. Now, all I have to do is make some prints and see if it was worth all the effort! I’ll let you know how it goes.

Oh, and by the way … my 2C now goes by the name Flipper (for those of you old enough to remember, otherwise look it up on the net).

Stay well,

Michael

When I have some extra time I like to scan the Internet for items of photographic interest. Once I weed my way through the chaff and misinformation I occasionally learn some things and can even be entertained. Sometimes I stumble across some tidbit that reaffirms my own thinking and lets me know I’m not alone.

Here’s something I found that hits the nail on the head concerning large prints of mediocre work. I know, I’ve talked about this problem a number of times here, and have even shown this once before, but I liked this so much I couldn’t help myself and just had to show it again along with another quote that together hopefully make a point. Georges Fevre, HCB’s printer, used to say “If you can’t make them good, then make them big”. Damn that’s good and how true!! Doesn’t matter about technical quality, print quality, larger negative size or anything else. Crappy, boring large images will never be good, despite what the powers that be want you to think.

And here’s something else. I’ve quoted this before too, but it is so good I want to show it again. And why not? It’s my blog after all! Like the previous quote, it touches on something I’ve written about before … photography as a journey and what’s really important to me in my photographic life …  the love of the work … and the experience to be lived. It comes from Daniel Milnor and his great website Shifter … “What did I do with this work? Nothing. Where was it published? Nowhere. For those of you who don’t know me you need to understand how selfish I am. My primary reason for making pictures is to live the experience of making them. This is a greedy, solitary pursuit. My second reason is to record. Data. Visual data. Record it, preserve it, move on, and hopefully have it utilized for historical purposes sometime long after I’m dead. Lastly, I don’t care about being known as a photographer, or building an audience, or selling shit. I’m in heaven simply by being there, talking with people, attempting to understand their course through the obstacle course of life, and from time to time, hearing the occasional thump of the Blad’s shutter.”

I include this great quote from Milnor as I think it fits nicely with the first one about image size and junk pictures. Look, there’s a lot of folks in the photo art world that are so obsessed with exhibiting and selling their pictures even if the content is suspect at best that they’ll print them supersize. And why not?  It will be promoted as “new” like repackaged detergent, and the gullible and naïve will think it’s great and buy it.

Ok, what about you? Think about what is really important in your photographic life and be true to yourself. Make your picture, and make your statement about what is important you … what you really care about. Your work will stand on its own and won’t need to be blown up to be any good. And while you’re at it, and most important of all, just enjoy the journey that can be yours in your photographic life.

Stay well,

Michael

Lately I have been going through all the blog entries written by the recently late, great Tim Vanderweer which appeared on his Leicaphilia website. Tim tragically passed away in January, but his site thankfully lives on. I highly recommend you visit it!!!!!

There I found a reference to Sergio Larrain (1931-2012), a photographer I was not aware of and a copy of a letter he wrote to his nephew who had asked him for advice on how to become a photographer.

The letter is so profound I am presenting it here in its entirety and will let it speak for itself!

Now that I have discovered Larrain I want to learn more about him and his great work. If you like Cartier-Bresson you will love Larrain! I now have to track down his books as my library will not be complete without them!

Here’s the letter:

“First and foremost, find a camera that fits you well, one that you like, because it’s about feeling comfortable with what you have in your hands: the equipment is key to any profession, and it should have nothing more than the strictly necessary features.

Act like you’re going on an adventure, like a sailing a boat: drop the sails. Go to Valparaiso or Chiloè, be in the street all day long, wander and wander in unknown places, sit under a tree when you’re tired, buy a banana or some bread and get on the first train, go wherever you like, and look, draw a bit, look. Get away from the things you know, get closer to those you don’t know, go from one place to the other, places you like. Then, you’ll start finding things, images will be forming into your head, consider them as apparitions.

When you get back home, develop, print and start looking at what you’ve done, all of  the fish you’ve caught. Print your photos and tape them to a wall. Look at them. Play around with the L, cropping and framing, and you will learn about composition and geometry. Enlarge what you frame and leave it on the wall. By looking, you will learn to see. When you agree that a photograph is not good, throw it out. Tape the best ones higher on the wall, and eventually look at those only (keeping the not-so-good one gets you used to not-so-goodness). Save the good ones, but throw everything else away, because the psyche retains everything you keep.

Then use your time to do other things, and don’t worry about it. Start studying the work of others and looking for something good in whatever comes into your hands: books, magazines, etc. and keep the best ones, and cut them out if you can, keep the good things and tape them to the wall next to yours, and if you can’t cut them out, open the book or magazine at the good pages and leave it open. Leave it there for weeks, months, until it speaks to you: it takes time to see, but the secret will slowly reveal itself, and eventually you will see what is good and the essence of everything.

Go on with your life, draw a bit, take a walk, but don’t force yourself to take photographs: this kills the poetry, the life in it gets sick. It would be like forcing love or a friendship: you can’t do it. Take a new journey: go to Porto Aguire, ride down the Baker to the storms in Aysén; Valparaiso is always beautiful, get lost in the magic, get lost for days up and down its slopes and streets, sleep in a sleeping bag, soak in reality – like a swimmer in the water – and let nothing conventional distract you.

Let your feet guide you, slowly, as if you were cured by the pleasure of looking, humming, and what you will see you will start photographing more carefully, and you will learn about composition and framing, you will do it with your camera, and your net will be filled with fish when you arrive home. Learn about focus, aperture, close-ups, saturation, shutter speed. Learn how to play with your camera and its possibilities. Collect poetry (yours and that of others), keep everything good you can find, even that done by others. Make a collection of good things: like a small museum in a folder.

Photograph the way you like it. Don’t believe in anything but your taste, you are life and it’s life that chooses… You are the only criterion. Keep learning. When you have some good photos, enlarge them, make a small exhibition or put them in a book and have it bound. Showing your photographs will make you realize what they are, but you will understand only when you will see them in front of others. Making an exhibition is giving something, like giving food, it’s good that others are shown something done with seriousness and joy. It’s not bragging, it’s good for you because it gives you feedback.

That’s enough to start. It’s about vagabonding, sitting down under a tree anywhere. It’s about wandering in the universe by yourself: you will start looking again. The conventional world puts a veil over your eyes, it’s a matter of taking it off during your time as a photographer.”

Stay well,

Michael

The opening reception for Monalog’s show at Penn State was a resounding success and I was asked to do a radio interview with Maxx Foxx, who has some rather innovative programming on several radio stations in Pennsylvania’s Lehigh Valley.  Of course I said yes! Then I had to think about the reality that I’ve never done one of these before!

Turns out Maxx has spent a good part of his life making photographs and was incredibly knowledgeable of all things analog black and white. We talked about Monalog and its mission, what makes black and white images so special and then strolled around the gallery and discussed the photographs in the exhibit.

I couldn’t have had a better time and apparently didn’t make a fool of myself. I guess when you are passionate about something it’s easy to express it. And expressing it made me feel even stronger about what Monalog is about … what I am about.

All this self-affirmation makes me want to work harder this year, and that’s a good thing! Funny how unexpected little opportunities can result in outcomes that can make large impacts.

Stay well,

Michael

Just pulled up Google to check on the price of roll of Tri-X 36 exposure and saw this from B&H: “Tri-X 400 Film – Hurry, Price Subject to Change”.  At $12.99 a roll I had to take a deep breath. I think the last time I looked several months ago it was $11.99

#$@%^&*!

It was then that I started hunting around on eBay and found some recently expired rolls for $7.99 with the same dates as what was in my freezer. Guess what … I grabbed it fast!

How about the cost of 100 sheet box of Ilford Classic Multigrade 8 x10 fiber paper? $139.90.

Ok, I think you get the point.

The cost of black and white analog materials has become pretty expensive. On the other hand, so has everything else. An era of high inflation, combined with the cost of manufacturing products for a somewhat small market is not a happy combination. Nevertheless, that’s the hand those of us dedicated to this wonderful medium have been dealt. We’re not alone. Photography is my avocation, but my very serious hobby is listening to vinyl.  I buy a lot of records. Just ask my wife about my habit. A typical audiophile grade gatefold reissue of say a classic 1950’s jazz title now costs between $35-$40, but more deluxe offerings can cost over $100. When I first started buying records in the Sixties they cost about $3-$4.

And while the vinyl resurgence together with digital streaming has helped to push aside CDs as a major media source, the record market is still a relatively small one like that for film. At least with a CD you get a plastic container, a little paper and a disc. With streaming you get nothing except greater convenience. And that’s what all of this is about for those that live in the digital world, be it photography or audio … convenience.

So you can let rising costs and all that digital convenience give you all you need to push you over the edge and embrace the dark side. But don’t be too hasty. The superiority of black and white analog photography and vinyl notwithstanding, do you really want to get onto the digital equipment merry go round, as new cameras with more megapixels and “features” make the shiny plastic model you just purchased obsolete? Just get the new one, but don’t worry, in two years you’ll want the new, new one. And on and on.

So what to do? If you care about your art and have a real passion don’t give up on what makes it all possible. Same with listening to music. You do get what you pay for, and in the end with film you’re going to save on all that constant gear churn and keep your stress down.

Maybe with film the price forces us to slow down a little more and be more selective when we click the shutter, and that’s not a bad thing.

And don’t forget about eBay.

Stay well,

Michael