Sunday, January 5, 2025

From Asclepius’s Rod to the Medical Caduceus: An Inspiration for Photography

 



When I heard about President Jimmy Carter’s passing after a century of existence, I recalled a trip to Egypt I took 25 years ago as a public health professional. After the second day of discussions with primary care physicians, President Carter’s work in eradicating a water-borne parasitic worm disease came up.

“When I was a young doctor, I extracted a lot of Guinea worms creeping out from the legs and arms of tribal residents. President Carter helped us and the world stop the cycle of the parasites in our drinking water. But recently I have seen these worms in Sudan, where I worked for a while” an older physician told me.

“I have never seen one in my travels to Africa, the Middle East or Asia” I said.

“And that is a good thing. You know, it was like Asclepius’s Rod – we used to slowly coil the worm around a wooden stick. Just like spaghetti around a Chinese chop stick!” he recalled with a wink.

… So, this morning, in a rather peculiar way, I made a connection between my photography and my health care profession.

But first, a word about Asclepsius’s Rod (or Rod of Asclepsius) and the modern Caduceus of medicine.

Here is a depiction of the origin of Asclepius’s Rod (or staff) as seen in the statue of Asclepius at the Archeological Museum of Epidaurus in Peloponnese (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rod_of_Asclepius)



And the caduceus as the modern symbol of medicine:




 

The visual difference between the two is obvious: two serpents vs one, and a winged vs non winged staff. However, the history (or mythology) behind each is significantly different. Indeed, the Asclepius’s Rod is said to represent a non-venomous rat snake, later called Asclepian Snake, which was believed to freely wander around where Asclepius’s patients slept. The caduceus, however, was the symbol of the Greek messenger of the gods Hermes and a guide to the underworld.  

 

Here is a statue of Hermes carrying the caduceus, kept at the Vatican Museums, in Rome. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hermes)

 


 

In Roman mythology, the Greek Hermes continued to exist as Mercury. In neither mythology, Hermes was associated with medicine or healing but he did carry what became the modern symbol of medicine, the caduceus, especially in the United States. It is however often said that the real symbol of medicine is the Asclepius’s Rod, and that the adoption of Hermes’s staff was a misunderstanding of Greco-Roman mythology, although Hermes also represented alchemy, which was associated with pharmacy in Medieval times.

Further, many believe that Asclepius’s Rod does not have a snake around it but a Guinea worm, or Dracunculus medinensis, a nematode responsible for dracunculiasis (Guinea Worm Disease). And as the Egyptian physician told me, these worms were historically extracted by the healer wrapping them around a rod upon exit from a patient’s skin. (The counter argument may be that the statue at the Archeological Museum of Epidaurus clearly shows a snake. But mythology relies more on symbolism than facts, and the snake was historically believed to represent healing and regenerative power due the shedding of its skin).

 

Ok, this long introduction brings me to some of my photos and perhaps gives a context that I had not considered before.

 

A.    Photo atop this essay page of my dogs playing. I took this one a few days ago, on Christmas day. The posture of the dogs reminded me of the two snakes coiling on the caduceus.

 

B.      Street actors in a Shakespeare play. I took this one in Baltimore Maryland.

 


C.     Couple on the boardwalk, Baltimore, Maryland. A tender moment captured as I was walking with my camera as companion..

 


D.    Photo of a couple in embrace in swimming pool. This one was a challenge as I took it from the balcony of my hotel room in Mont-Tremblant, Québec, Canada. I had a Mamiya Pro 645 medium camera with me, and taking a photo with a waist finder by pointing the lens downward was tricky. It takes a minute to see the woman on the right and the man to the left of this composition, but realizing that I was looking down and seeing the shadow of the men’s right leg in the shadow in the pool water helps… The photo made the cover of my fifth book of poetry and travel stories.

 


 

E.     Photo of a couple on the beach, in Nazaré, Portugal. This one may qualify as the “pre-embrace” and made the cover of my 7th book, this one in French, published in Canada.

 


 

Interestingly, the global Guinea Worm Disease eradication work of the late President Jimmy Carter made me think of the snakes (guinea worm?) wrapping around Asclepius’s Rod and Hermes’s Caduceus. And both as a healthcare professional and a photographer, I saw a continuum between medicine and the arts, somehow going back to the historical healers who were philosophers, artists, poets and founders of today’s medicine.

 

As for my photos, are they reflections of my Défaut professionnel or the result of keen timing by a street photographer? I will never know, but writing this essay sure felt like a self psychoanalysis!

 

January 5, 2025

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2025

Sunday, December 8, 2024

Prescott, AZ, 2024 Holiday Parade Through the Eye of a 1959 Petri F1.9 Rangefinder Camera

 






The annual Prescott Holiday Parade was a good time to use one of my cameras that has been “ignored” for a long while. This time, my choice was for a 1959 Petri 1.9 Super rangefinder manufactured by a long disappeared Japanese camera company.

It is not a well known camera as the name Petri has never been associated with a quality SLRs. But this model, made in the early years of the manufacturer deserves attention and has a cult following in the rangefinder world.

Made by the Kuribayashi Camera Industry, founded in 1907, the Petri F1.9 was produced in 1958 and production lasted for only 4 years.  It was aimed at competing in the global rangefinder camera market, but its marketing coincided with the introduction of the venerable Leica M3...  The Kuribayashi Company filed for bankruptcy in 1977.

The Petri F1.9 is a fixed 45mm lens minimalist watchmaker’s camera. However, it is beautifully made and has lasted the past decades gracefully if.. you find one with functioning and accurate speeds! I got mine as a “consolation present” from the buyer who sold me an equally non-functioning Soviet FED-2 rangefinder camera from the 1950s. It was in the late 1990s and film cameras were sold as paperweight since the world was going the digital route and users of film were considered neo-Dodo birds.  Somehow, a Ukrainian camera man in Baltimore, Maryland repaired both cameras and gave me many years of enjoyment using the FED-2. As for the Petri, after dry-shooting it a few times, I reserved a fine spot for it on my shelf.

Here is my camera:

 


And a testimony statement about the company’s dedication to quality and customer support on a sticker inside the back cover:



Till this weekend. I tested winding and clicking a few times, and checked the lens blades for oil deposit – all seemed to function as it should. I put half a roll of film in it (I roll my own film in canisters) and took it to the Holiday Parade for a few street photography test shots.

I was delighted when I inspected the negative strip – frame distances were perfect, and I could tell that there was ample contrast the lens had captured. However, the black and white shades seemed to be following each other abruptly, without noticeable transition of gray. That could mean extreme differences in bright and dark segments of the frame during printing under the enlarger where lenses are typically f3.5 or 4.5 thus not allowing enough light to create the shades of gray during the 10-15 second light exposure time I prefer.

So, I went back to my FED-2 which originally came with a badly calibrated Jupiter-3 Soviet fast lens but has a wide opening of f1.5 allowing more light to go through it under the enlarger. As I have often done so, I replaced the enlarger’s flat field lens with a camera convex lens and proceeded to my darkroom work.

Here is my FED-2 with the 1956 Jupiter-3 lens I used on the enlarger:

 


The photos:

Well, the most dramatic was the one at the top of the page. I wanted to test the 45mm lens at f18 and 1/125th second. What I got is a very “creative” yet phantasmagoric photo! My first reaction was “these are creatures from another planet!”  but I quickly settled for the effect of a vintage soft camera lens coupled with a re-calibrated Soviet lens on the enlarger. But, I admit that I do like the result which was the type of surprises I like, even if they look apocalyptic!

 

The next photo is more “from our world” although flare (even with a hood) is apparent along with good sharpness at f4 that also surprised me. The thing I wanted to capture was the head of the small dog the young woman was holding on her chest – a careful look will detect the ears of the dog and its left eye pointingly looking at me! Not bad for that much detail and sharpness from a 65+ years old lens.

 


Finally, a photo that combines the two characteristics I have so far seen from this lens – minimal gray scale transition and, an uncanny depth of field. In this photo the foreground is blurred ad the same time that is the background although the name of the gallery where I had my first Prescott exhibit as a guest artist is in perfect focus!

 




Will I take this camera with me when I need predictable, sharp and smooth transition of shades? Clearly not. However, I will use this camera again for creative, hence somewhat unexpected results. The lens seems to be doing things with my scenes that I cannot create via lens opening and speed changes. Artists have been using plastic Holga medium size cameras for years to achieve such surprises.

Maybe my lens is defective. Or maybe this was my first half-roll with the camera and I will learn to celebrate its character more than hope it will render what I was aiming to capture.

One parting thought—for a photographer who enjoys the design and feel of a camera, the Petri F1.9 is a joy to carry and use. And if the goal is to discover, all over again what you thought you saw through the viewfinder, this is the overall perfect camera for that!

 

December 8, 2024

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024

Saturday, November 9, 2024

New Photos from Upper Antelope Canyon Cave, Arizona

 




I received numerous comments regarding the photos I took in the Upper Antelope Canyon, Arizona. Here is the link to my preview post: https://liveingray.blogspot.com/2024/09/upper-antelope-canyon-on-navajo-land-in.html

The readers were surprised that a 1980’s film camera, a Minolta X-700 and a lesser known lens, the Soligor 20mm f2.8 wide angle could take such sharp and contrasty photos in a dimly lit cave on ASA 100 film, handheld. And many asked if there were more that I can post.

Previously, I had printed, under my vintage HANSA enlarger, a few photos I chose from reviewing the negative strip. Based on the request of readers, I went back and chose a couple more to print.

The photo atop this entry has a single source of light resulting in a depth of field often seen in similar shots, although most are made with professional medium or large format cameras on a tripod. My photos are handheld and on 35mm film, adding the challenge I like when using vintage cameras and lenses.

The photo below has multiple sources of light, coming from cracks and small openings in the cave ceiling. I like the originality of this one more as I believe it gives the viewer ample space for imagination and personal interpretation.



Many thanks to my readers for their comments and hope these two new photos will excite a few of them to dust off their vintage camera and get back to film photography!

 

November 9, 2024

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024

Sunday, October 6, 2024

Double Exposure on Film: the Quantum Spacetime of Photography?

 



 

It will be Halloween soon and yesterday there was the Fall Arts show downtown.  It was time for my 1979 Mamiya 645 1000s to get some exercise hanging from my neck while walking around.

I came across a re-enactment of how Prescott was in the 1800s, and decided to take a few photos.

After I clicked once, a young man came to me curious about my camera.

“That is an antique!” he started, “and I could hear the shutter from 20 feet away.”

“It is the large mirror falling,” I said “yes, old medium format cameras are not made for photo taking during a piano concerto.”

“My Nikon is mirrorless,” he proudly continued, “It is the latest technology.”

I slowly winded the film turning the noisy winding crank.

“And it has a crank?!”

“It does, just like cars had in the 1920s” I said in a serious tone.

“So, you use film, an antique camera with a crank, and try to focus through a waist screen. Tell me, why?”

“I suppose for the same reason some people still enjoy driving and repairing vintage cars – for the companionship between tool and user.”

He started laughing and I noticed he had perfect teeth.

“Do you drive a vintage car?”

“Well, mine will qualify as vintage in 4 years and I will get a plate that says so” I responded.

At this point he was keen on seeing my photos.

“Can I find you on Facebook? Instagram? Snapchat?”

“Tell you what, you will not find me on any of these sites. But I will give you the link too my blog – check it out after a couple of days, since it will take me that long to develop the film, hang it to dry, then use my 1950s enlarger in the darkroom to print photos, hang them to dry, then scan them so I can post on my blog.”

“And now a blog!” he exclaimed. “Yes, I will check.”

 

After he left, I wondered what my antique camera can do that his mirrorless wonder cannot. As I was in thought, my eyes fell upon the “MULTI” switch on the right of the camera body. That is for taking multiple exposures on the same film frame. I had used it once decades ago just to try it and the photos I got were not for street photography. Maybe for creative landscape shots, but not for capturing events in the streets.

I had no idea if modern digital cameras can take multiple exposures on the sensor they harbor. But I decided to try it on film.

… The photo at the outset is a double exposure – I switched the lever to “MULTI” took one shot, cocked the shutter via the crank which now did not advance the film, and took another shot a few seconds after the first one. Of course by then my camera hold had slightly shifted and the enactors had moved. So I had no idea what to expect, and even if that function still was working on the Mamiya.

I find it an interesting composition, and of course I love the Mamiya Sekor 150mm lens I used.

The woman shading her eyes from the sun has a second “her” superposed lower, as my hold of the camera was lower for the second shot. But she had already moved making the photo sequence an active one. Par contre, the woman on the right had remained still, perfectly. The tree branches are almost symmetrically placed in both shots, although the post upon which the first woman is resting her left hand has a slight displacement due to my camera movement between the shots. And, to the background of the first woman one can discern a cowboy hat, and a woman with an umbrella.

The most interesting movement is the man with a cowboy hat that is seen right in line behind the head of the first woman and who was not in the frame with the first shot – he had just walked by during the seconds between the two shots!

 

The photo at the outset was the first print I did of that frame by exposing the photographic paper 10 seconds under the enlarger light. The dark areas were contrasty but seem to be hiding more people and events. So, I tried another print this time with 8 seconds exposure.  Here is that photo:



This underexposed version tells a very different story – the woman with umbrella was there all along holding hands with the man wearing a cowboy hat, but the 10 seconds enlarger light exposure had totally covered them in black! Now, we can see them both in the first shot, and also in the second superimposed one as they too had moved forward and do not seem to be holding hands. What I love about this detail is that we now have the couple in profile in the first frame and in portraiture in the second – lovely!

 

… As I looked at the two printed photos and the magic of double exposure on film, I could not resist thinking about the concept of timespace in Quantum Mechanics. Simply put, some aspects of our space and time that are continuous, freeze or stop “commuting”.  Time is certainly a commuting concept – it moves forward, but also can go back. Space is less easily understood as changing, unless one thinks about the warping and expanding of the space concept proposed by Einstein.

Quantum spacetime puts these two concepts together and proposes that what was fluid, changing or moving can stop being so, or they get “quantized” – hence the term “Quantum.”

Well, in double exposed film frames, the movement and the space around the movement have been frozen yet we know they moved. And the resulting new form, as if timespace, is now broken into smaller segments. In a funny way, I think about this scenario as the “fabric of frozen movement” (my definition.)

 

… More importantly, I wonder if the young man will indeed check my blog and perhaps send me an email about his impression of the photos.

Or, maybe he just went to his friends and said:

Guess who I met today?  A photographer stuck in the 1950s! And he had to wind up his camera with a crank so it can shoot!!!”

 

October 6, 2024

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024



Sunday, September 29, 2024

A Vintage Soviet Medium Format Camera at an American Classic Corvettes Car Show

 

 




Prescott, Arizona, is home to one of the most popular vintage Corvette car shows. Among the reasons is the dry desert weather that preserves cars from rust and other damages. Also, many of the retired residents have enough space on their house land to build large garages often transformed into classic cars restoration. The king of these cars is the Corvette, a symbol of American muscle cars.

There is an annual Corvette car show downtown Prescott, and thousands of visitors marvel at the pristine restorations of Corvettes many more than 60 years old. For me, it is also an opportunity to take a vintage film camera for street photography.

Yesterday I decided to take one of my 1972 Soviet medium format Salyut S camera for that sortie. A few days ago I tested the camera with the 90mm Vega 12-b I had used decades ago, and while the camera worked fine, the lens was frozen. Thinking that the blades got stuck from years on inaction, I proceeded to open the lens and get the blades back into action. Unfortunately it was more complicated than that as the automatic blade control mechanism had broken.

.. In the 1990s, with the advent of digital cameras, film and mechanical cameras were sold or even given away as they were deemed relics of a glorious past. I acquired a number of classic cameras during that time period, especially focusing on getting two of the same models so I would be able to perform “organ transplant” since mechanical camera repair professionals were getting as extinguished as the users of these photographic tools were.  I have two of these Vega lenses, and I decided to rescue the ailing one:



To my surprise, when I took the rear cap off the second lens, I realised that I had already, a couple of decades ago, harvested parts of that lens! As for many vintage Soviet lenses I have, it used to be popular for whoever repaired or re-calibrated a lens to scratch the new calibration parameters on the inner metal surface of the lens, and often, with the edge of a screwdriver, carve their name. I suddenly saw that I had done the same thing when I repaired that lens decades ago!

Here are the partly dismantled optical elements of the non-functioning lens and my name carved on the inside of the “donor” lens:



So, at least for now, I will not be able to use that Vega lens for the Corvette show.

 

The next possibility was a monster lens not made for street photography, the Soviet Kaleinar 3B 150mm f2.8. It is a stereotypical Soviet lens being all glass and all steel. It weighs 1100 grams and fitted on the Salyut camera (1420 grams) one will have 5.6 pounds of weight hanging from the neck! What is more challenging though is the focusing – one has to turn the ring more than one rotation to get into focus, and even then, the weight of the outfit and the non-friendly pressure the shutter release requires make the steady holding of the camera impossible.

Here is a size comparison between the Vega and Kaleinar lenses:

 


Needless to say, the Kaleinar was not built for street photography, rather for portraiture on a steady tripod. And I have used this lens decades ago for portraiture, always handheld, and never in a sunny setting as it flares easily and loses contrast. But the portraits I took had a unique charm – a pronounced bokeh even at f5.6, and a “proletarian” feel to the captured moment, compared to what one got from Japanese lenses of the era. It was a down to earth capture that did fit the character of most people I captured on 60 or 100 ASA film.

Ok, I tested the lens, it was working fine and out to the Corvette show we went.

The photo at the outset of this page is the first one I took at the lens’s minimum focusing distance of 1.8 meter, the diaphragm closed to f16 and the speed set to 1/125th seconds. The desert sun was at its zenith and there were reflections on the glass and metal surfaces of the 1956 corvette’s cabin. I did not expect much from this shot, but surprisingly, there was little flare and sharpness and contrast were acceptable.

My second test was at f8 and shutter set at 1/250th seconds. I wanted to capture the spirit of folks admiring the corvettes and the head of an alien the owner of this car placed in the cabin allowed to experiment with lens sharpness and out of focus frame areas. I find this photo quite delightful.


It was time to test the bokeh of the lens taking into account the light transition between the foreground and the background. As I had seen before the Kaleinar exhibits significant, albeit less than smooth bokeh even at f5.6 which was the set aperture for this photo:



Another test of test was at f11 and shutter speed of 1/125th seconds focusing on an artwork across the street, about 25 meters away. It was the life size sculpture of the most common predator we have in Arizona – the coyote. We almost see them daily around our houses making walking a dog a challenge.

The sculpture was made of scrap metal, nuts and bolts allowing me to test the sharpness of the lens and the contrast it displays:



Finally, an example why quick framing and focusing, hence street photography, is not really possible with the Kaleinar. People were walking near a corvette and I wanted to capture both the walkers and the car. Unfortunately by the time I focused (or tried to) and clicked, the car was mostly covered by and the frame was badly focused:

 

So, the performance of the lens and camera were still very acceptable, and I may use the setup for portraiture again. Most importantly, I was pleased to have a vintage camera at a vintage car show. In some way, both the owners of those cars and I have one thing in common – owning, maintaining and using a tool or machine from a past era makes us partners in the process, rather than passive users of technology that is programmed to be predictably functional but often override our desires of the moment.

.. Talking of functional, I have to decide if I want to spend hours taking the broken Vega lens apart, just for the challenge of it...

PS/ as always, I was probably the only one, among the thousands of people, who went to a classic muscle-car show and did not take photos of the cars.

 

September 29, 2024

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024

Tuesday, September 17, 2024

Upper Antelope Canyon on Navajo Land in Arizona – a Symphony of Light and Shape on B&W Film

 



 

A recent trip to Page, Arizona included the tour of one of six canyons where light, shape and colour provide dramatic optical delights.

The Navajo Upper Antelope Canyon is called Tsé bighánílíní in Navajo language meaning “the place where water runs through the rocks.” Rainwater during the monsoon season (heavy rains for a month or so) created flash flooding and eroded Navajo Sandstone and created passageways and corridors while polishing and smoothing rough edges in the sandstone. This resulted in shapes that flow like the water passage, and openings atop the walls of the canyon. The light that filters through such open passages creates delightful, somehow psychedelic colours and shapes.

The canyons are the main attraction of the Lake Powell Navajo Tribal Park and access to these canyons are only possible through guided tours by Navajo.

Needless to say, I was intrigued by the photo opportunities such a tour can provide. However, since I do not own or use digital cameras, the challenge of using a vintage film camera, without flash, and slow 100 ASA B&W film provided the challenge I always desire. However, just in case I wanted memories of the promised colours, I opted to rely on the “camera” of my phone…

The evening before the tour I saw a huge square frame in a field as if to frame the background scene. As I was trying to solve the mystery, a young boy appeared out of nowhere and sat in the frame. The street photographer in me immediately pointed the camera and clicked. The boy got up a few seconds later and walked toward the house on the left.

Here is that photo

 


And a cropped section showing the moment

 


What a delightful moment that was when the frame, the field, the boy and the evening sky came together in harmony!

The next morning on the way to the Navajo Tribal Park, I drove by a number of Navajo jewelry stands by the highway. Most were simple open structures where silver and turquoise handmade jewelry are sold by tribal artists. But then there was the one shown atop of the page! I just could not resist pulling over and taking a few photos using my 1981 Minolta X700 camera sporting a 1972 Soligor 20mm f2.8 lens. The banner featuring a Navajo grandma, her grandson, the jewelry stand, the mountain and the white truck described the environment perfectly

That photo is atop this entry.

… Once on the guided tour of the Upper Antelope Canyon, I realised why it is a very attractive place to visit. The light from the openings of the canyon walls filtered gracefully to create form and colour in the most abstract way. As such, the observers were provided to interpret what they saw. The ultimate set-up for guided pareidolia!

So, I opened the lens to its fullest (f2.8) and set the shutter speed to 1/15th of a second and finished a roll of film hoping that some will be “artistic” enough given the camera shake and the unpredictable sources of light. In a few settings, when my own pareidolia let me to “see” shapes, I took photos with both the real camera and with my phone to see how colour tells a different story from B&W.

Here are a couple of examples:

The angle of view in this photo reminded me of an avian head. The digital version of that view was as follows:



When I printed the B&W film version in my darkroom, I discovered TWO birds!

 


Regarding this second photo, I just liked the multitude of shapes that in my mind could swirl in a monochromatic version.And here is what came out in the developing pan, under my darkroom’s red light:  :

 


Now I saw a small shark (bottom left) trying to grab an enormous seahorse (top half in the middle)!

However, if the canyon was naturally in the shades of gray, it would not be as spectacular. People from around the world would not come to Navajo land to experience the changing colours and shapes with the changing of daily light filtering through the openings of the canyon walls. And for capturing that feeling, colour photography is essential.

Here is one moment I caught when light coming through the tunnel passage and and a small hole in the ceiling of the canyon gave us a spectacular display:

What my eyes saw



 And what it would be if the world was monochrome...




… A visit to a canyon, formed by the sedimentation of sandstone sand washed from higher mountain basins to carved passages through the Navajo Sandstone was a photography experience I had not attempted before.  My goal was not to take photos of the canyon -- for that I would have used medium format cameras (probably my 1948 Rolleiflex TLR), a tripod, and flash light. Instead, I wanted to capture a story behind what light and shape can "write" on cellulose, stories that the eye may not see when being "distracted" by colour.

Yet, on that trip, I found a couple of moments to be what I have been for more than half a century – a street photographer!

 

PS/ I shared the canyon photos (in colour and B&W) with a friend who had toured the canyon. Her interpretation of the “avian photo” was:

“ .. looks like an ostrich turning his head and squawking at the person who just plucked his feather.”

The joys of interpreting abstract art…

 

September 17, 2024

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024

Tuesday, September 3, 2024

Expired Film, Expired Developer Solution and the Revenge of Unappreciated Photos

 



 

A couple of weeks ago, I wanted to test if a film roll, expired 6 years ago, will still have enough sensitivity to capture moments from a very dimly lit theater where a local band was performing. Adding to the challenge, I loaded the film in my 1954 Leica IIIF Red Dial and put a 1948 Canon Serenar collapsible lens that was very fast for the period at f1.9. Here is the combination and a close up of the lens:



 


The lens is a collectible, but a poor performer in sunny situations. I have rarely used the f1.9 setting, as f8 seemed to be the most acceptable setting for street photography. As for the Leica, I have owned and used it for decades without maintenance. The speeds slower than 1/25th seconds are now erratic, but 1/100th seconds and faster are still perfectly acceptable. I knew I would need to test the 1/25th seconds speed along with the “freshness” of the ASA 100 film.

But in the theater I encountered two new challenges – the stage had spot lights on the musicians but the rest of the space was lit with red lights! So, it was very difficult to even see the musicians through my ancient viewfinder – I had to resort to zone focusing, hoping that someone on that stage will be in focus!

When I developed the film, I was delighted that all frames were well exposed. The film seemed still in fine shape even though I had not kept it in the freezer like many rolls I have.  And under the loupe, I could tell that the zone focusing had worked with smooth tonal transitions and decent focusing. Here is the frame I developed (no chemical contamination on the pellicule!) and a section of the developed film strip showing perfect development:










When I prepared the chemicals for printing a few frames, I realised that the film developer solution was older than I like. But, eager to see how the prints would come out, I was delighted to think that it is only appropriate to have an “expired” developer solution while using an expired film!

So, I chose a frame, exposed the photographic paper for 45 seconds under my enlarger and let the white sheet into the developer solution expecting that magic of a photo forming in a few seconds. When I took the paper out of the solution pan, I realised that the developer solution was too old as it was a bit syrupy over the paper.

So, I tossed the exposed paper in the trash bin without going to the next two steps of dipping it in the “Stop Bath” pan, and then into the “Fixer” pan. Since the negative was excellent, I decided to try again when I mix a fresh Developer Solution.

And I forgot about it all.

Yesterday, as I was emptying my trash bin, I saw that printed photo. Over more than 10 days, the chemicals in the expired developer solution had run chaotically over that paper and crystallised in the most delightful way!  So, I took the unexpectedly “artistic” photo to the sink, washed the crystals and hung it to dry.

Too be honest, the photos I took were just to test the equipment – pure curiosity by someone who always tries to get the most from old tools, enjoys old methods of using the tools, and celebrates all surprises. In this case, the unexpected touch of the developer solution’s chemicals made the photo one I will remember.

And, to realise that really, I had no participation in the process. All I had done was to throw the “half-baked” printed paper in the trash bin. Now I learned a wonderful lesson – never disregard the ability of the ordinary to, somehow, become extraordinary!

Maybe I will use this photo as one would use the Rorschach inkblot test – see what people will see depending on who they were and what they have become. I sure have my own interpretation about this band playing in an underwater cave surrounded by aquatic sponges gently swinging to the New Orleans jazz rhythm and flow...

 

September 3, 2024

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2024