And so it begins . . . or not.

REM has a song on Lifes Rich Pageant [not a punctuation error] (arguably one of their best albums) called Begin the Begin.  Beginnings.  It’s sometimes difficult to know when you’re in a new beginning.  All too often it’s only because you’re looking back in time that you realize that’s what it was.  Join us for a discussion about a new beginning . . . or not.

Obviously our move to Portugal has been a new beginning.  Mostly smooth, but with a few hiccups (like the pandemic) to make things less than ideal.  But there’s no doubt that it’s a beginning. We may have our plans, but life has already let us know that it has a way of making things . . . well, interesting.  So we’ll have to adjust as life, for everyone, moves on in whatever “new reality” pans out over the next months and years.  

But sometimes moving forward means looking backwards and the pandemic has given me some time to to that finally.  That is what this blog post is about.  I’ve finally had the opportunity to test a project I’ve been thinking about for quite some time now - to digitize my catalog of analog images, starting with my 4x5 negatives and transparencies.  I’d recently seen a technique where one takes   a digital photograph of each negative or slide and then developing it, using various techniques, in your normal digital editor.  It seemed much easier than going through a scanner (from expensive to unbelievably expensive if you want to be able to scan 4x5 negatives), as well as learning one or possibly two new complex software programs. 

As I’ve been looking over the contact sheets of negatives I’ve been moved by so many stories that rush through my brain with certain images (not all, but way more than I’d thought).  So I thought I’d be starting a new project.

The idea was that as I copy those images and develop them, I steal a concept from one of the overlanding YouTubers we follow - Andrew St. Pierre White of 4X Overland.  He has a series he calls “story time” where he tells a story of some sort drawn from his years of overlanding experience.  I guess I’ve done the same before - Andrew (Ann and I met him and his daughter at the Overland Expo West the year we got Beast, so I can call him that) did one about all 14 of the overlanding vehicles he’s had and I’ve done one on my cameras.  But this series will be about an image and the story related to it.  More likely than not, the story will not be about the photographic qualities of the image, but some other story related to the image.  And come to think about it, I’ve already done one of these.  My October 17, 2012 blog post “Happy Birthday Guys!” was the story behind a 4x5 polaroid image I made of Brandon and Kit (the image is on my bookshelf here in Braga).  So maybe the idea is my own.  

In any event, my friend John says that life is just a collection of stories, so let the stories begin.  And where better than to begin at the beginning.

This is the first  image I ever made with a 4x5 camera.  It’s the beginning of my passion, call it love affair, with photography.  Before then, I found photography interesting.  Afterwards, it became a passion - even when I wasn’t photographing.  

I was working for the College of Architecture at Virginia Tech as their staff photographer.  A new class of graduate students had come in and one of them had a degree from RIT in photography.  We eventually met and got to talking about photography.  He offered to loan me his 4x5 camera and/or his 8x10 camera to see what it was all about.  I had been working my way through the Ansel Adams Negative and Print books, and had already calibrated my 35 mm cameras with tri-X and HC110 developer so I took him up on the offer and borrowed his 4x5 camera (the 8x10 came later).  I bought a box of film and took a couple of weeks calibrating the ISO and development times for both of his lenses (face it, I was a working father with infant twins, so I didn’t have a lot of free time), and then made my first trip out to photograph.  

At the recommendation of my friend Ryan, I headed out of Blacksburg and down Mt. Tabor Road for the first time.  For awhile it was just another beautiful drive through the Blue Ridge Mountains as the afternoon sun began to cast a crisp beautiful light on the landscape.  Seemingly out of nowhere a photograph popped into view and I pulled the car over.  

And for the first time, I pulled out a heavy tripod and set a significantly lighter Toyo 4x5 field camera (significantly lighter than the Sinar P1+ I was to lug around for years) on it and slowly went through the motions of setting it up and then noting down zone meter readings and exposure settings, setting the aperture and shutter speed on the lens, closing the shutter, then loading the film holder into the camera and ultimately making an exposure.  Slowly and carefully because of the unfamiliarity of it all.  Basic steps that, in time with my own equipment, would become second nature and able to be done in a matter of seconds if necessary.  

It wasn’t until several days later that I was able to develop the film.  And unlike prints, I had to do everything in total darkness.  As with incorporating the zone system in calibrating my cameras and film, I was following Ansel’s recommendations for how to develop the film.  As a consequence, I was tray processing my negatives, shuffling the sheets of film with my fingers, so I was in constant fear that I would scratch a negative with the edge of another as I shuffled through them.  Fortunately, care paid off.

And much like the first photographic print that you can see coming to life under the red glow of a safelight, the first time you flip on the lights (half way or more through the fixing process) and you hold a wet 4x5 negative to the light, I was in awe.  

It was that image and the process behind it that I fell in love with.  In short, it was the beginning.  

Postscript:  Much of the above was written in anticipation before I tried out my first “scan” tests.  I knew I would start with this image, because it was the beginning, and I knew the story I’d tell.  I’d selected several images - a couple of black and white negatives, a couple of color negatives and a couple of color transparencies - to test.  And finally gave it a run through.  To say the least, the results were incredibly disappointing.  I haven’t been this depressed about my photography in a very long time.  Not because the images themselves are bad, I know the images are good (well, the black and white [because I’ve printed them] and the color transparency [because I can see them]), but the digital product, at least the product that flows from this approach, falls far short of my standards and the images themselves.  I’ve gotten over the depression for now, and I will fold a couple more of the images I’ve already worked on into the story posts I’d envisioned, but at this point I need to step back and reassess.  The negatives make such beautiful prints on a good quality black and white silver bromide paper that to have them be anything less in a digital form seems a betrayal of the work.  In some ways, I’m greatly saddened. But it is a reminder that in photography, as in many things in life, excellence is demanding and there really are no short cuts, even with modern technology.  

Perhaps it’s time to just move on from those images as anything more than referencing prints I’ve already done.  Maybe not.  But I need to put this project on hold until I find a better solution.  I have too many more projects in my mind - mastering printing again, several portfolios of images to print, portfolios to build for viewing on my iPad for a start - that I don’t want to delay or cripple as I try to push the scanning project forward.  The other projects are basic organization and presentation of work that doesn’t lose quality in translation and involve developing skills that will continue to benefit my continued digital work (I’ve given up the idea of ever having a wet darkroom again).  And at some point, Ann and I will be actively photographing once the pandemic situation eases a bit.  Then, in 2022 we’ll pick up the bimobil and we’ll be on to major adventures again.  I want to have worked through most of the projects on my list before the big trips begin, because I’ll want to work on those images immediately afterwards.  

So back to the drawing board with my 4x5 (and other) analog work and moving forward on my other projects.  Beginnings; endings; sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.