The 2022 Fourth of July Parade Through the Eyes of an 80 Year old Soviet Camera -- Prescott, Arizona

 

The Fourth of July parades provide a unique opportunity to a street photographer. Not only is it a celebration of a nation’s independence, but also a reflection of local traditions and the character of the population in each town where the parades take place. In the past years, I have tried to capture moments from the parade in Prescott, Arizona, a cowboy town mile high in the mountains of Arizona’s high desert.

 

Yesterday, when I was deciding which old mechanical camera to take with me, one that has been sitting on my shelf of collectibles seemed ask for that outing, looking at me with both of its round “eyes”. It is the first Soviet rangefinder camera, a FED made in 1940, modeled after the venerable Leica II. I had not used this camera for a few decades and had no idea if it still worked. After testing the camera for winding, focusing at infinity and shutter speeds, I decided to take a risk and load it with film.

But, to make sure that I will get photos from my sortie, I also loaded a 1970’s Olympus OM-1 as a backup.

Here are the two cameras

 

Since the FED has such historical meaning, it is worth revisiting its origins.

The history of the FED camera, the first camera ever made in the former Soviet Union, is described on Wikipedia as:

The factory emerged from the small workshops of the Children's labour commune named after Felix Edmundovich Dzerzhinsky (the acronym of which gave name to the factory and its products) in December 1927 in Kharkiv (Soviet Ukraine, now Ukraine). Initially the factory was managed by the head of the commune Anton Makarenko and produced simple electrical machinery (drills). In 1932, the new managing director of the factory, A.S. Bronevoy (Russian: А.С. Броневой), came up with the idea of producing a copy of the German Leica camera.

 

For collectors, this camera is known as “FED-NKVD” as the NKVD was the People's Commissariat for Internal Affairs (= Народный комиссариат внутренних дел Narodnyy komissariat vnutrennikh del, НКВД (=NKVD), a public and secret police organization of the Soviet Union later known as the KGB.

Quite the history!

My camera’s serial number indicates that it was made in 1940. Information from Camerapedia shows that it is a FED Type-8. Here is more from that site:

FED type 8

• 1940-41
• the last type of the NKVD engraved cameras
• Engraving: FED NKVD-USSR Kharkшv Combinat IM. F.E. Dzerjinsky (=ФЭД НКВД - CССР Харьковский комбинат им. Ф.Э. Дзержинского)
• Distinctive feature of this type is the engraving which only found on the FED type 8

(https://camerapedia.fandom.com/wiki/FED_(Original)_(_FED_NKVD,_FED-S,_FED-1)

 

Each camera’s top plate was had engraved, and each model had a different engraving. In part, that is the attraction for collectors.

As for the lens, it is an Industar -22 made in the 1950s. I have owned many variations of this lens; most did not couple correctly with any of the Soviet rangefinder cameras I have. This one does, perhaps it was made in a factory in Kazan that specialised in optical instruments while others were made in factories that produced machinery of different kinds.

To complete the historical background of this camera, here are details about this lens:

Kazan KOMZ

Kazan Optical and Mechanical Plant (КOMЗ) began operations in 1940. During the Second World War, KOMZ produced a wide range of optical instruments like binoculars, photographic lenses, photo controlling devices, marine range finders, and dive-bomber scopes. Their camera lenses include the Industar-22, Industar-27, Industar-50, Industar-51, Industar-37, Jupiter 11, Jupiter 37 and Fodis 1K.

(https://camerapedia.fandom.com/wiki/Soviet_Factory_Logos)

Ok, so I shot a roll of B&W film, ASA 100, all at 1/100 sec speed, and an aperture of f11. I could not trust that the speed was correct as the last time I got this camera services was by a Ukrainian photographer in Baltimore, Maryland 3 decades ago.  But when I developed the film and printed a few frames, I was delighted by the travel back in time…

The photo atop this page shows how a 70 year old lens, without a shade, flares up in the high desert sun. The head of the pony is in a “cloud” and   the riders are out of focus either because the lens did not couple well with the rangefinder, or because the shutter speed was much lower than the 1/100 sec I set the dial on.

But this second photo indicates that it is the shutter speed that is unreliable as the focus is acceptable. Still the flare is there.

However both photos are a delight to a photographer who enjoys the unpredictable from old cameras and lenses. It is a moment when the camera becomes a “partner” in capturing the moment, and not just an instrument.

 

To show the difference with “modern” cameras (well, the OM-1 is still 50 years old…) here are two photos I took, always with ASA 100 film, with the Olympus. There is no comparison regarding the technical quality of the lenses, but that is not the intent of anyone who enjoys using vintage cameras and lenses.

I do like this photo of the Polynesian dancer that was part of the parade – the juxtaposition of the arm from the woman behind her makes this dancer resemble the Hindu goddess Gayatri.

 

And the horses show a synchronised harmony in their trot, which the now unsynchronised shutter speed of my FED would have never captured.

 

… Many take their camera to a parade for the parade itself. Yesterday, the joy for me was to let the first Soviet rangefinder camera “see” the parade with its 80 year old “eyes”.

 

July 3, 2022

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2022

Miranda Sensorex: the Forgotten Almost-Professional 35mm Camera of the 1960s

 

 

 

My last posting about my 55 years of photography using mechanical cameras found a soft emotional spot among photographers who still cannot exchange film for digital outputs through today’s wonder electronics (https://liveingray.blogspot.com/2022/05/fifty-five-years-of-b-film-photography.html.)  I received emails describing their reasons for still enjoying the nostalgia of the golden years of B&W photography and darkroom work.  Also, asking questions as what has worked best for me in street photography for decades around the globe.

So, here are a few more thoughts.

I always traveled with two cameras, as many do. Depending on the country or city I was visiting, one would be a 35mm and the other a 120mm camera, often a TLR such as Minolta Autocord. But if I opted for 35mm only, it would be an SLR and a rangefinder.

Although I have more cameras than a leopard has spots, I have trusted my 1969 Nikon F more than any other classic camera. It has never let me down and it fits my hands and eyes perfectly. There are two rangefinder cameras that go along with that trust –a 1954 Canon L and a 1954 Leica IIIF.

And then there are dozens of cameras that have historical meanings, are quirky, or even unpredictable. These would be my “surprise” shot makers as I would discover, in the dark room, what came out on the negative strip compared to what my intent was. German pre and post-war cameras fit in this category, along with Soviet 35mm and 120mm ones.

… Based on the feedback I got about my last posting, I decided to take a 1969 Miranda Sensorex, fully functional and sporting the lovely Miranda 50mm f1.4 lens to a car show downtown. My goal was not to take photos of cars but of the atmosphere these cars create among people, in the street.

The picture above is an example of what old lenses can do. I wanted the car, with its doors folding up and an artwork painted on its hood, to be like an exotic bird that had just come down on a cowboy town and made people curious.  Or, a mythological flying creature as it was painted on its hood.  I shot it with ASA 100 film at an aperture of 8 and 1/125 shutter speed.

Will a digital picture gave the same smooth transition of the gray scale between the partial shade from the trees, the mid-day desert sun and the mix lighting on the background building? I assume so, but with some darkroom work, I find that these transitions are smoother on film.

And then, let us not forget the 6 steps, using both hand, that are necessary to get the 1 kilogram Miranda Sensorex ready for its “shutter trip”! That sound can never be as sweet as any microchip-simulated mechanical shutter sound!

So, here are my Miranda Sensorex and Nikon F FTN cameras, both from 1969. I have repaired the metering system of the former once, but have never touched the inner workings of the Nikon after miles and miles of pellicule that have passed through it.

 

June 5, 2022

©Vahé A. Kazandjian, 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 gummes 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 1/30^th 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

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

The Eye of Providence, Aspen Trees and an Inkblot Test

 

 

Sometimes, street photography goes beyond the capture of people and their behavior. There was a gathering on the town center and I took my camera hoping for a special moment. But all seemed predictable and uneventful. Until I stopped by an Aspen tree upon which the sun had enhanced patterns that triggered my imagination. I had walked by that tree thousands of time with my dog, but this time my brain made delightful connections.

The photo on top of the page shows what I saw and clicked quickly.

 

What did I see? Somehow the memory of a UNICEF poster about a child immunization program came out of my past. I had seen that poster in Egypt during a public health initiative I was involved in. I was able to find that poster on the Internet:

 

And here is what made me recall that poster about which I had not thought for almost 35 years (and this flashback did worry me, I have to admit):

 

Pareidolia? Perhaps, but the full-body of a child arms up and hair locks bouncing on that tree trunk was uncanny!

 

But there was more – here is the familiar shape of another child's head, next on that tree (see the wide, happy smile?):

 

At this point my neurons were firing in all directions, and putting those two scratches together, like a Rorschach Inkblot test, reminded me of a Polish stamp that was all joy and innocence:

… Interestingly, Aspen trees are best known for their “eyes” which was atop of the two “inkblots” I first noticed.  The Quaking Aspen (Populus tremuloides) is a most photogenic tree especially when a forest of Aspen trees are found. They seem to be looking at you with those eyes, the contours of which are most contrasty in the dusty silver bark of the trees. It is irresistible for a photographer not to take photos of these forests.

I find the origin of the Aspen eyes quite extraordinary. Indeed, one will find those eyes most abundant on Aspen that grow in a tree since the lower branches end up dying from the lack of direct sun being shaded by other Aspen. So, instead of hanging on to dead branches, the Aspen "self-prune" themselves by dropping these branches down. And it is the wound of the fallen branch that becomes the famous eye on the bark of the tree 

Thinking about the eye as a "wound" resulting from dead branches not receiving enough sunlight, I cannot resist thinking about Rumi's saying albeit more philosophical in nature:

                           The wound is the place where the light gets in

Yet, those eyes have inspired more sociological comparisons. For example artists have captured Aspen eyes resembling the Eye of Providence, which is symbolic of God’s eye in a protective way. The Providence eye is found in Masonic/Free Mason symbolism, on the U.S one dollar bill, the Estonian 50 Krooni note, the old Ukrainian hryvnia note, and several countries’ Coat of Arms including Belarus and Poland.

More, there is the Ancient Egyptian Eye of Horus a symbol of protection and health belonging to the sky god of Ancient Egypt depicted as a falcon. His right eye was associated with the Sun god Ra worshiped by Egyptians as representing enlightment.

Ancient Egyptians were extremely knowledgeable about human anatomy, and they had identified the shape of the Eye of Horus (or the Eye of Ra) around the pineal gland, a pine cone shaped miniscule located behind our eyes, attached to the Third ventricle in the middle of the brain. Sometimes known as the Spiritual Third Eye, the pineal gland is activated by light and Descartes called it The Seat of the Soul. The function of the pineal gland remained a mystery for most of human history, hence symbolism surrounded it. Most common symbolism of that gland was that it served as our inner vision, perhaps to look into our own souls.

 

.. What started as a hope to capture a human moment via street photography became a journey into matters of providence and soul searching.

All because of an Aspen tree next to the downtown sidewalk of a small cowboy town in Arizona on a sunny morning. Perhaps the desert sun activated my pineal gland in ways both delightful and surprising.

 

PS/ On my way back I passed by that tree again but the sun was higher in the sky and the shades had vanished.

 

 

April 24, 2022

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2022

Portrait or Portraiture – The Role of the Artist along that Continuum

 

 

I have taken portraits using miles and miles of film in the past 45 years. In many instances, persons who could not afford the portrait taken in a studio, sat still as I continuously talked to them hoping to get an unforced smile or a relaxed demeanor.

My street photography was all about people who did not sit down for a portrait. They moved, they ran, or they were obstructed by others in a crowd. As such I thought of such work as portraiture, where I was looking into a resemblance, a representation of human behavior and attitude through that one or surrounding few people. I was not aiming at an exact capture of that person’s appearance. In other word, I was not taking a portrait.

Yet, over time that distinction became blurred, and even unnecessary. Perhaps Oscar Wilde said it best in The Picture of Dorian Grey:

"Every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself."

I think this reasoning applies to all media of capturing human anatomy and behavior, and not only to painting.

To illustrate, I looked through my scanned photos.

A.    Backstage of a circus, Baltimore, Maryland. This is the photo at the top of the page. I have not recorded the date when I took this photo – I would guess around 35 years ago. The show ended and we were passing by the large tent when I saw these two performers and the while pony. A short while ago these performers were all smile and gave the impression they were the happiest people on earth. Now, the show had ended. And I wanted to capture that moment. Is it a portrait or portraiture? Is it like the clown crying under his happy-painted face? Which face represents the true clown?

The negative has deteriorated over the years perhaps giving the photograph a more foggy distinction between a portrait and portraiture.

 

B.  At a concert, Washington D.C. I was using a 1954 Kiev rangefinder camera that afternoon in 2005. It was the way she had crossed her arms that “spoke” to me. I do not know if she was sad or just pensive. I consider it portraiture of melancholic moment.

 

C.     Nazaré, Portugal. A fisherman’s wife was selling sardines on the beach. Her dress and head cover attracted me first. But it was her almost angry demeanor that I wanted to capture. As such, it is portraiture for it portrays a rather typical scene of a fisherman’s wife selling sardines.

However, if I crop the photo shoulder high to show only her face, it becomes more personal, more of whom she was at that moment. Perhaps that continuum between portraiture and portrait is what I find most attractive when framing a shot. Often, I do see that transition before I press on the shutter.

 

  D.  Seoul, Korea. I was waiting for my flight out when I saw two flight attendants on the rolling walkway approaching a sleeping passenger. The background light made it almost for a contre jour shot, but my Pentax 100 captured enough detail for a pleasant softness. I had to burn and dodge a few times in my darkroom to bring out the sleeping woman's figure. 

For me, this is a portraiture of a common "airport moment". Yet, the chiseled profile of the flight attendant and her posture make it undeniably Korean.

This photo has been published in a book.

      E. Prescott, Arizona. A powwow, when American Indian culture is celebrated through dancing and singing. It is also a gathering of various indigenous nations to honor their ancestors and the traditions they inherited from them. I used a Yashica 124 medium format camera sitting about 50 yards away from the dancers. Hence I was able to enlarge a small area of the negative with minimal loss of definition. Even though the shot was overexposed, the final print fulfills the purpose of the shot which was to capture the atmosphere of the dance. Hence it is portraiture of the celebration.

 

      F. Prescott, Arizona. I decided to include this photo and to discuss it last as I think it brings up an interesting question, namely: can there be a distinction between portraiture and portraits if the photos were of animals?

 It may seem like a frivolous question, but many photographers would agree that sometimes wild animals do stop and look at the photographer. Would they be considered “sitters” for a portrait?

 

I took this with a 1961 telephoto lens, the venerable 180 mm Nikkor –Q F2.8, so I was about 30 yards away from mama deer and her “two girls”. They were about to run but mama decided to take one more look at me, and the young ones did the same for a split second. The angle of composure was perfect for that single frame shot I got before they went on their merry way.

I do not know if this is a portrait of deer curious about intruders, or portraiture of wild life. No matter, it is a photo that hangs on my wall.

 

Back to Oscar Wilde -- have I revealed myself through these portraits and portraiture? Did I see that melancholic posture of the woman sitting on the floor because I was melancholic too? Or did the angry look of the fisherman’s wife is something I like to capture in my photography and painting?

The only way to an answer would be to go out and take more photos hoping an explanatory pattern would reveal itself. Till then, I would not consider portraits and portraiture as categorically distinct results of capturing a look or a body language, but interpretations along a continuum.

 

January 9, 2022

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2022

Christmas Morning in a Cowboy Town

 

My early morning walk with my dog in Prescott, Arizona was all calm and gray. Snow had just started and the streets were empty. The fog added the natural blurring of the background and the touch of snow felt hopeful and clean.

In that space, I forgot about the pandemic and what the new year would bring.  I celebrated the moment.

December 29, 2021

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2021