Tuesday, May 24, 2022

Fifty-five Years of B&W Film Photography: Why Does the Joy Endure?

A few days ago, when I was gently swirling the developer solution under a red light, I realised that the excitement of discovery had never left me. I felt the same grand joy of seeing a photo appear on what was a white paper a few seconds ago. And I smiled to the thought that I have seen this appearance happen thousands times in the past half century.

And, that I have been surprised most of the time by what appeared that I had not known was going in the frame when I released the shutter of a mechanical camera.

I was six years old when my mother gave me a Brownie camera. My mother was all gift for my life, and that Bakelite single shutter speed light box was the gift that helped me see my world through. Suddenly every moment became a frame that either captured me or I had to capture. And I did so through miles and miles of pellicule but also in my mind. Even today I almost believe that I remember each person’s face I have taken portraits of. On three continents and countless cities.

So, why is B&W film photography such an influencer on celebration of ordinary moments?

I do not know the final answer, but for me it started by a mutual dependency between a primitive tool and my inquisitive character. Indeed, a 1940's camera can do nothing by itself compared to today’s electronic and Artificial Intelligence controlled digital cameras. The mechanical cameras depend on the photographer at the same time the photographer depends on the uncoated lenses, springs and wheels to work and work consistently. It is a companionship with compassion (and forgiveness) that the digital world does not provide. At least for me.

So, decades ago to maintain that companionship, I learned to repair what are now called classic cameras. From 1940 Leica 35mm “watchmaker jewel” cameras to 1969 Nikon F. I still have more than 40 cameras in my collection, all in working order. That is until the lens blades gummed up with time, a spring breaks, or the rangefinder goes out of adjustment. Then, I put on my watchmaker magnifier glasses and spend hours finding a replacement spring or cleaning the aperture blades and iris diaphragm of a 1950's Zeiss Sonnar lens.

And this brings me to the impetus for writing this page.

 I was looking for a photo to show at a local exhibit of B&W photography with the theme of “Water”. I came across an unrelated photo I had taken years ago in a Taipei wet market. I always went to these markets very early in the morning hoping for a few shots before I start my work day as a health care professional. The low light and the small spaces were perfect for capturing that spectrum of shades on B&W film rolls.

This photo was of a pig’s heart hanging from a hook in a butcher shop. For these early morning shots I often used a Zeiss Sonnar copy Jupiter-3 Soviet fast lens from the 1950s as it was the fastest 50mm lens I had with an aperture of f1.5.

I remember taking this photo with that lens on a 1953 Soviet FED-2 camera. But I had never published it as it was more an experiment in capturing shades that it was a great moment of street photography.

But, this time I saw something I had not seen before – the pig’s heart looked like a Roman (or Greek) warrior’s sculpted head looking left!

Here is the full-frame photo

 


So, by curiosity, I scanned the photo to crop the warrior’s head sculpture.

Here it is


 

It was amazing to see the helmet, the eye of the warrior, his beard and his lips. The texture of the scanned section of the photo was also reminiscent of time-affected stone making it a true sculpture one would see in a museum.

But I was not finished yet with surprises. Now that I had the photo scanned, I used filters to see if I can enhance the pig heart’s details. When I tried a magenta filter, I had the same excitement about  an appearance as I do when developing the photo paper in the developing pan under a red light – suddenly a woman, all smiles, appeared in the background!!

Here is that appearance

 


Needless to say, I recall taking the photo but had no idea there was a woman, seemingly holding a butcher’s knife in her left hand, in the back of the dimly lit butcher shop. And she saw me taking the photo, hence the smile.

Here is my FED-2 camera

 


… I still use that “primitive” camera and lovely lens, mostly for portraiture at f1.5.  I have to guess that I shot that photo in Taiwan with a speed of 1/30th second which is the slowest speed of the FED-2 camera. And since I always use ASA 100 film, the resolution, detail and especially the woman’s presence in the deep shade of the shop is quite amazing at f1.5.

Perhaps, that is the answer why I still use old cameras with unreliable shutter speeds and slow film: it is that companionship with compassion and forgiveness. In this case, all the stars in the firmament of street photography lined up just right.

Giving me hope that such surprises may happen again.

 

May 24, 2022

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2022

Saturday, May 7, 2022

Celebrating Darkroom Accidents

 



 

I always have one camera loaded with film to be ready for unplanned moments worth capturing.  (As I wrote this line I realised that in today’s digital world I remain solidly anchored in the past with my love of film cameras and darkroom work…)

Well, I was going to the town center for some street photography. I looked at the cameras I knew were loaded with film and was surprised to find out that my 1954 Canon-L rangefinder had film in it. It should have been just before the pandemic when I did so, and the film had been sitting patiently in that unused camera for almost 3 years.

Here is my Canon-L and the lovely Canon lens – the leafs of the manual lens close to form a perfect circle, allowing for old-fashion photos to be composed

 


 

So, I took the canon with me for a walk on a sunny May day.

… There were a couple men in cowboy attire and I took a few photos. Back to my studio, I rewinded the film and total darkness started loading in into the developing canister. When I heard a rupturing sound, I knew the film strip had dried out and it tore during the process. Usually that is lost cause as the reel in the canister would not be able to catch the pellicule and allow appropriate development.

But this time, I wanted to see what surprise could come out once the strip is developed.

Here is a snapshot of the developed strip – it is burned by chemical contamination because the strip got stuck to itself when unable to be captured by the reel. 


Clearly, there are no frames that came out developed, except for one with partial shades. Looking at it with a loupe, I could see shadows of the two cowboys among the chemically burned parts of the frame.




So, I decided to print it using my 1950s Hansa Pro enlarger fitted, in lieu of an enlarger lens, with a 1940s Industar lens from a FED camera.

It took a few attempts with variable exposure time to get the shadows take life.  The phantasmagoric photo that resulted from my curiosity is at the top of the page. Since the strip got stuck to itself in the developing canister, not only it got chemically burned, but impression from various frames got developed on this single frame.

As such, this photo is of a scene that DID NOT EXIST when I was taking the photos! It is surreal, created by an accident due to old and brittle expired film (which I like to use for surprises).

I had no input into this “creative” outcome – and as such, I celebrated the accident remembering a quote from Mae West:

            “You only live one, but if you do it right, once is enough

 

May 7, 2022

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2022