goyablog

Google Books is great and I fully endorse the PDFing of the entire universe of printed matter made digitally searchable. It was because Google has scanned dozens of old photographic journals in the public domain that I have stumbled upon the most fascinating glimpse of 19th-century photographic culture, professional and amateur. There is a palpable excitement in the proceedings of these journals that range from ads and reviews of lenses and cameras to serious essays on the state of the art and science of photography. Discussions of the latest techniques and reports of field tests lead into prognostications of future developments. I can read just about any random article and find in completely engaging. I’m currently reading through the 1860 (vol. III) issue of the London publication “The Photographic News: A Weekly Record of the Progress of Photography” established for “the dissemination of photographic knowledge, and the advancement of photographic science. Every new process, every improvement in apparatus, every new fact in science, chemical or otherwise, bearing even remotely upon the interests of Photography, has been brought before the public at the earliest available moment. We have sought to carry out, as far as possible, the objects of a weekly publication, by furnishing our readers, not with a mere narrative of the past, but with a stirring and faithful record of the immediate present — of the sayings and doings of the photographic world week by week, at home as well as abroad.”
It’s amusing to read about the latest advances being touted as the ultimate in photography. But beyond amusement, there is a serious study to be done of the various circles of photographic culture in American and European cities. The entrepreneurial streak through the American examples is evident. There are tons of materials for it at one’s fingertips. Too bad that doing such a study will not get me promoted in my putative field.

In my pursuit of funky old lenses I frequently need to try to research them (= google them) and lately I’ve discovered the advantages and pleasures of Google’s Scan Everything in the World Project. When there isn’t any useful discussion on Photo.net or the Large Format Photography about obscure lenses, I often get hits on old photography journals form the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Absolutely fascinating reading. Whether it’s the reviews of new lenses or cameras on the market or reader’s letters to the Editor testifying about the performance of this or that lens, there’s a sense of fresh discovery, that this photography thing is still being discovered on a daily basis among professionals and amateurs alike. With ready access to a boatload of such material from American and British journals, I’m seriously thinking about doing a kind of social history of early photography. I don’t think, however, that would help me with promotions at my day job, so I might have to keep it to short essays on particular topics.

One such topic worth exploring is the democratization of photography. For this, we turn to Eastman Kodak mass-marketing, their Brownie box camera, the introduction of rollfilm and enlargers. It’s a fairly well-know story that the conjunction of these things that de-mystified and de-professionalized photography during the first decades of the twentieth century. A good deal has already been written about this, but a succinct essay might be a good idea. Perhaps I’ll do it some day.

Another more specific topic that I’m interested in, which is closely related to the massification of photography, is the idea and practice of the snap-shot. The OED teaches us that term was originally used in the early 19th century in hunting to refer to a shot done without careful aim. The first recorded use in photography seems to be in an article entitled “Instantaneous Photography” written by J.F. W. Herschel published in The Photographic News on 11 May 1860: “I take for granted nothing more than, 1st, what photography has already realised, or we may be sure it will realise within some very limited lapse of time from the present date — viz. the possibility of taking a photograph, as it were, by a snap-shot — of securing a picture in a tenth of a second of time…” The entire article is here:

This is the start of my pursuit of the spread of the idea and practice of the “snap-shot.” Herschel merely envisions it here. I suspect that within that short time he mentions the practice was widespread, probably by the 1880s or 1890s. By that time the technological conditions were fulfilled; what remained was the will to do it, to take shots (with expensive film and processing required) “without careful aim.” I’m also suspecting that it was Mr. Eastman who actively promoted the snap-shot to the non-professional masses of photographers he aimed to cultivate….

I shot my first roll yesterday with the 614 camera to test for light leaks, shutter speed, masking. A few things quickly learned from the negatives, this one being the best of them:

1. I got a small hole in the bellows which accounts for the light leak on the left. Sara and I found it with her flashing a light on the outside while I had my face in the bellows from the reverse side.

2. I need more rubylith tape over the “autographic window” that I’m using as the exposure count window; it apparently is not as effective blocking out harmful light as advertised because I have a second light leak where it is over the film on the right.

3. Small leaks along the edges, possibly from a slightly loose camera back. Hard to say. I’ll tape the seams along the back for the next test shoot.

4. I can’t easily cram 5 shots on one roll using the set of counter numbers on the backing paper intended for 4.5cm-wide shots. A fellow in a photo forum said you could use 1-4-7-10-13 for five shots, but mine came out slightly overlapping or without any space between frames. I will try my scheme of using a combination of the 4.5/6/9 numbers for five shots. Or simply be satisfied with four per roll.

5. The shutter — which is stuck on one speed — might be a little slow. Not as bad as I originally thought by viewing the negatives which I thought were overexposed, but that was mainly from light leaks. So, shutter test inconclusive.

6. This huge panoramic format is awesome. The camera has great potential; all I need are a few simple repairs.

On a lark, to kill time before having to pick kids up from school, I stopped in at Pre-to-Post-Modern, a vintage store on 8th street that’s primarily 1950s-70s stuff. I spied on the opposite wall of one room what looked like a set of stainless steel film developing tanks OR a cocktail shaker set. I hoped for the former, expected the latter. Lo and behold, it’s a set of four gorgeous film developing tanks from probably the 1960s, not that that’s particularly special because the same design tanks are made and sold today. The tanks were of four different sizes: a cute hand-sized single-spool 35mm; a larger but still cute single 120; a tall triple-spool (35×2, 120×1) thing that really does look like a cocktail shaker, and then the fourth mid-sized, kind of squat thing with the bizarro cage inside, as pictured here:

Now, it just so happens that I’ll be needing a 4×5 cut film developing tank for the next pinhole camera project that’s underway, but that’s for another post….

The set was listed at $65–way too much for me even though these were mega-cool. I asked Clerk No. 1  (an older woman) about them and from the background Clerk No. 2 (a heavily tattooed younger woman and photog) chimed in that “Greg” found them and said she thought he’d sell them for less. She called “Greg” who said they were from a neighbor and dated to the late 1960s.  He would sell them for $35. I snapped them up. Little did I (or Greg) know, Number Four tank alone was recently selling on eBay between $90 and $200. I found this out trying to track down the identity and use of the thing. I wasn’t at all familiar with it. Turns out to be a 4×5 cut (sheet) film developing tank. Twelve sheets can be loaded in the spiral, dropped into the tank, and daylight-developed in the same way I do roll film. The REALLY cool thing is that I looked up the patent number on it—2,218,727 “apparatus For Developing Photographic Films”—on Google Patents and came up with a PDF of the original patent application for the device as filed by the inventor, Hinsdale Smith, Jr. on 1 March 1938 and issued 22 October 1940. This is the cover page of it:

The newest addition to the (camera) family is a wonderfully engineered (in the old-fashioned sense) Exakta VX (Varex, in Europe) IIa (Verison 2) serial number 855162, which puts it as being manufactured in 1957 at the Ihagee Factory in Dresden, Germany, as indicated on the beautifully inscribed front plate:

That crappy photo doesn’t do justice to the overall Big Chrome Fender beauty of this camera. For that go here for good photos and a detailed review. Historically, this line of cameras by Ihagee are important — the 1937 Kine Exakta was the world’s first commercially significant SLR (single lens reflex) camera. Technically, a Russian camera was the first SLR, but no zero impact while the Exakta dominated the market until Japanese SLR cameras surpassed the Exakta by the late 1950s/early 1960s. My IIa is widely considered the apex in the design of the Exakta before the line’s slow decline. While it has its peculiarities, they are all lovable (except a stubborn edge-of-film scratching mystery I’m troubleshooting and think I have a handle on). In recent years Exakta have developed a caché and have become very collectible with a wide user base. One reason for this is that they were built like tanks thus sturdy, have many many lens and accessories floating about on the used market, are still repairable, and are just plain retro-cool. I bid smartly (i.e., don’t bid at all until the last 20 seconds and keep three bid windows ready to punch) on eBay to nab mine for $100, which was a steal considering that the lens it came with (a Flektogon 2.8/35mm, not pictured here) alone is worth that. Here are a coupled shots I took with it (and developed at home):

I also shot a roll of color that Dury’s screwed up developing (lots of embedded dust, off color, developing marks, etc.) I couldn’t believe that I got back negatives that looked like my first ones. I’m bummed about it too because there were some interesting shots. It would take too long to clean up all of them in Photoshop, but here’s a couple I meticulously cleared of specks:

Not too bad for a 53 year old camera, eh? I have a couple eBay-snagged lenses to try out still once they arrive. Now if I just didn’t have to write this book thing I’d be out all day tomorrow shooting….

So, as you may have gleaned, I am manifesting my mini-midlife crisis (not really, but let’s call it that) by going headlong into yesteryear photography. I’ll try to explain why some other time; it probably has to do with nostalgia, my eyes going buggy lately with floaters and phantom insects, a profound lack of any aptitude for expressive arts that require real manual artistry, and the alchemical thrill of playing with emulsions, light, and developers. In any case, a few weeks ago I acquired from eBay a 1950 Adox Start folding camera (that has “Made in Germany, US Zone” stamped on the back of it). Paid $21.50 plus shipping. It takes 120 film and produces 6x9cm negatives (pretty big and beautiful). It’s a relatively primitive camera–all mechanical, no optical viewfinder (just a pop-up frame), no coupled or even uncoupled rangefinder (but it came with a cool little stand-alone rangefinder pictured above), no exposure metering (guestimate with the “Sunny 16 rule“). I loaded it up with some Arista Ultra 400 (rebranded Czech Fomapan 400) and took the 8 exposures that 6×9 allows. Given the rudimentary nature of the camera, the cheap film, and the self developing, they came out fantastic. Two had the focus off, but in general I was pleasantly shocked by the quality of the results. I’m seriously considering blowing up this bamboo grove shot to wall size (except that I seem to have created micro-scratches on the film when processing which may show up ugly blow up so large):

It’s really quite impressive in a large hi-res version, despite the micro-scratches. Knowing now that the camera is capable of excellent exposures, I thought I’d do a time travel test, The ADOX Experiment. This will involve trying to recreate as close as possible the look that this camera might have had in 1950 with period film and developer. It so happens that Freestyle sells old-school emulsion Adox 120 film (comes in very cool retro containers), made today with same recipe as in the 1950s. Also, Adox makes–and Freestyle sells–an old-school developer from the 1950s. So, over the next couple days, if the weather cooperates, I’m going to have a 1950s Adox experience with camera. Of course I should then make prints with the 1960s Besseler 23 II enlarger that Sara got from a friend, but I haven’t cleaned and repaired it yet, plus it doesn’t have a 6×9 negative holder. Assuming I could find one, it would probably cost $100+. I’m wondering if I could fashion my own. Stay tuned.

I am sooooooooo bummed. We started to develop some of the kids’ oatmeal canister pinhole shots and they are are way overexposed, to the extent that a slow, glowing, global light leak is likely the culprit. I just knew the cheap-ass oatmeal canisters nowadays would be a problem. The Quaker Oats looked flimsier than the Kroger generic, so I got the generic and painted the insides the black-duct-taped the outsides the best I could. However, a section around the shutter (which appears light-tight when checked, cannot be easily taped because of the shutter mechanism there. I think that’s the weak spot. Funny thing is, all three cameras checked out fine during the test shots, but the test did not include running around for many minutes in daylight with the film in the camera. We got partial images on the last two shots that were done late in the day and were not subjected to as much running around in the daylight. I’m sooooooooooo bummed–the kids spent a good two hours making the cameras and all afternoon having fun taking shots they really wanted to see. But, they still had fun doing it and it was a great day. We’ll try to salvage something from the mess tomorrow….