I know … have I turned into a hypocrite or what? I’ve discussed GAS and my previous bouts with it before. And I have talked about problems associated with too many choices. In fact I have done much over the past few years to simplify my gear, but I now have a project idea I am interested in that involves some urban landscape, including murals.

I think you can always try to make a good picture with whatever lens you have, especially if you are using a 50mm or 35mm or their equivalents for larger formats. The question is whether there are specific pictures that just cannot be made without the requisite lens? The worst thing you can do is to settle. Not having the right tool for the intended job. The problem I have is that I use Leica gear and it’s … well … somewhat expensive. Even Leica R lenses designed for SLR use can be pricy, although generally much less so then their M mount counterparts. This is due in large part because Leica’s R line of cameras just doesn’t get the love that is heaped onto M rangefinders. And of course the R is an extinct species. That having been said there are some really expensive R lenses … some of which I am fortunate to own. I lucked into them for some really great prices, so I happen to have them. But those opportunities come along only so often. Just walking in to right place at the right time. Same thing happened to me recently when I snagged a pair of rebuilt Quad 57s for a song … sorry, wrong passion!

So in this case, rather than wait around for an unlikely opportunity to materialize, I decided that I would search for low cost (by Leica standards), lightweight, quality 28mm and 180mm focal length lenses to use with Frank, my modified Leica SL (see my earlier posting on the FrankenLeica project). My research led me to the so-called Version 1 28mm Elmarit R and the 180mm f/4.0 Elmar. The game plan was to try to find late serial number examples that would presumably have Leica’s latest lens coatings of the time. I was lucky to snag two late copies. One I found in Germany, the other in Italy, both in mint condition.

Like any Leica lens it’s about the glass, but also the incredible build quality and pleasure of use. So have I lost it and succumbed to the Leica siren song and a sneak GAS attack? I don’t think so.

The new additions haven’t seen any action yet and don’t always travel with me, but I hope their time is coming soon. That would mean my plan succeeded and the project idea turned out to be a good one. If not, all the Leica mystic, tactile pleasure, and precision work of art won’t matter. They will be sold to someone that hopefully will use them as they deserve!

Awhile back I did a write-up on Robert Frank’s seminal book The Americans. You can take a look at it On My Bookshelf. I discussed why the book was such a landmark and how it belonged in every photographic library. Haven’t changed my mind on that!

Anyway, the other day I happened to be on the Internet and stumbled across a quote I hadn’t seen before.

“Black and white are the colors of photography. To me they symbolize the alternatives of hope and despair to which mankind is forever subjected.” – Robert Frank

Just think about that for a moment. You could say that’s a pretty “black and white” kind of description of photographic reality! But the fact of the matter is that there is something very real in the translation of a scene and whatever it happens to contain into a black and white photograph – especially if it has been made with film and printed on an emulsive paper. That’s my opinion and all the recent (and past) shows I’ve seen have done nothing to dissuade me from that thinking. Believe it or not, when I was a teenager I tried my hand at color for an entire summer. Shot Kodachrome 25 and Agfachrome. I even bought a second hand Agnecolor processer and made some Cibachrome prints in the tiny darkroom I built in my parent’s basement. The thrill wore off pretty fast though as the results reminded me of post cards.

I really have tried to improve myself over the years and be more open minded, but I still pretty much feel the same way. Extra large color prints really don’t help me either.

Some of the most beautiful photographs I have ever seen were 4×5 contact prints of portraits made by Minor White. And all I have to do is look at a few of the many great books I own … Henri Cartier Bresson, Ragnar Axelsson, Aaron Siskind, Paul Strand, Ansel Adams, William Clift, Manual Alvarez Bravo, Edward Weston, Brett Weston, Lee Freidlander, Ralph Gibson, Andre Kertesz, Morley Baer, Harry Callahan, Pennti Sammallahti, Paul Caponigro … and yes, Robert Frank.

The other day I went out and shot a roll of Tri-X. It felt really good as it always does. I’m looking forward to developing it and the other two rolls patiently sitting on my enlarger baseboard. Hopefully they will serve up a keeper or two and I will have the opportunity to print something special.

I have seen a lot of photographs over the last year or so. So I thought it time to provide a few of my thoughts. Most of the prints I’ve seen are large. I’ve discussed my thinking on this in previous postings. The majority of prints I come in contact with are in color. The rest are mostly black and white. I say mostly because some black and white prints are not completely black and white; some contain color parts and others are heavily toned in one way or another. Of course, most are digitally produced.

But here is what really gets me about much of what I see these days … rampant and blatant image manipulation! Call me whatever you wish as long as you’re civil. But I swear if I see another image dominated by a hyper exaggerated blue sky with white clouds (color) and/or a black sky with white clouds (black and white) I may have to drink my developer! Just not Xtol since it’s made of acerbic acid (Vitamin C) for low toxicity.

Perhaps even more irritating are prints that are completely manipulated. In other words … Photoshop unchained! I’ve seen prints that didn’t look like photographs at all. Instead, they looked sort of painterly. Perhaps this is the ultimate example of photo-realism gone mad. Instead of a paintings looking like photographs, we have photographs that vaguely look like paintings.

So is kitsch the new normal? Are we headed towards the equivalent of Elvis paintings on black velvet I’ve seen for sale in bus stations?

Am I being unfair? Am I a photographic curmudgeon, a stubborn wet blanket, or just an artistic Luddite living in the new photo art age?

Maybe I’m over reacting. Or maybe I shouldn’t sweat it too much.

Some will surely point out that many film users work with filters, and that everyone who prints incorporates burning, dodging and other techniques as necessary to express their final vision. Well to me the best analog work is that where manipulation is not apparent and filtration is not overdone.

Ok, so I’m a big fan of Adams and not afraid to admit it. Does that make me a hypocrite?   He certainly used filters to enhance his images, but in my humble opinion he just knew how to do it right. To me his prints are heroic and there’s unlikely to be another like him. And yes his prints were large, but they included real content!

Then there is Jerry Uelsmann, who has been using multiple negatives to make dreamy silver gelatin prints since I was a boy. I think he was an exception, a wildcard and not the norm … perhaps the forerunner of the Photoshop movement.

So where are we headed, as cameras and software will enable more and more manipulation at the touch of a button or tap of a keystroke? You know what? It doesn’t matter at all. What really matters is that you and I do the work that has real meaning to us and says something we believe to be important. Not what matters to galleries, jurors, or anyone else! For me, I intend to continue to make straight black and white film-based prints that hopefully stand on the merit of their content and quality of their production.

So perhaps I’m a dinosaur headed for extinction and the above is a bad case of sour grapes. I hope not. I think as with other experiments in questionable taste, this too shall pass.