A Cullinan wedding.

Recently I went along with hair and make up artist, Claire Calvert, to grab a few shots of the bridal preparations at wedding at which she was booked to make the bridal party look beautiful.
The event took place in Cullinan the site where the Cullinan Diamond was found. At the time it was the world's largest diamond. The stone is now part of the British Royal Family's Crown Jewels.
I was not the primary photographer, in fact I never even got to see the bridegroom and when the bride got into the car and headed for the church we packed up and went home.
Still, it was fun. Here are a few of the images I got that day, naturally all shot on film -- and yes, that is a DELIBERATE double exposure!

The Amazing Minolta Autocord

It's amazing how many blog posts, all over the internet, start with the phrase: "...it's been a long time since I've posted on my blog."
In keeping with that fine tradition, it has been a long time since I have posted on my blog. Life always seems to get in the way and I have had my head firmly down making cyanotypes and prints for a solo exhibition that will take place next week. I have also had a number of commissions that needed to be completed.
But along the way I purchased a 1950s Minolta Autocord, TLR camera for about the price of a 16Gb memory card. I've heard good things about the 'cord which was the Japanese manufacturer's attempt to compete with Rolleiflex and I was not disappointed. The lens is every bit as good as my Rollei.
The two pictures taken here were shot on Ilford HP5 and developed in Rodinal. The (obviously tame) Zebra was photographed on the Seasons Eco golf course near Brits and the other shot is the arch on the Hartbeespoort Dam wall.
I think both illustrate the quality of the camera and the unique characteristics of real black and white film. I am looking forward to shooting some quality B&W portraits with the camera.

Trying to break an emotional bond

There can be no doubt I love film and film cameras.
The smell when opening a fresh film canister is like perfume and holding a beautiful 1950s rangefinder or a pristine Rollei still sends shivers down my spine.
I like the look of images produced by film -- I think it is magical and I like to look through old negatives and slides. Having a beer while I wait for a roll of film to be developed makes me feel like a kid on Christmas morning -- except for the beer part. I sometimes believe I have Rodinal or D-76 in my veins and digital imagesx and cameras, more often than not, leave me emotionally distant.
But with all that said, I am seriously considering a complete switch to digital. What, you may wonder, has brought on this 180 degree turn-around? In a word, 'cost.'
Last week I took a roll of film to the lab I regularly use and asked them to do the normal 'develop and scan to cd' bit. What I did not know is they had increased their prices, dramatically. When I got handed the bill, I was left reeling. All of my arguments about film not being more expensive than digital suddenly no longer held any water.
As I drove home I can honestly say I felt betrayed, abandoned by an old friend. Since then I have gone through some major, internal, mental-wrestling. Logic tells me it's time to say goodbye to the 20 or so mechanical film cameras I have but the problem is, I have developed strong emotional bonds with them.
I know I can do the same or better with my digital cameras -- in fact I can no longer argue digital is inferior to film. The truth is, it isn't and hasn't been for a long time.
And clients' simply don't care. I've tried to position myself as doing something different by shooting film but no-one cares. Sad but true.
I haven't finally decided my course, though logic tells me I will keep a couple of cameras to shoot the odd roll of film, mostly for fun.
Naturally the Rollei will stay and most likely the Bronica so I can shoot B&W while I have colour in the Rollei. And the Yasica A will probably stay because it has a triplet lens produces nice portraits. I'll keep the Voigtlander Prominent because it's so beautiful, and the two Retinas because they have sentimental value. And, if I'm keeping the rangefinders, I probably should hang on to the Ricoh as it easily fits in my pocket. There's also not much point in getting rid of the Nikons because the lenses can be used on the digital bodies...
Arrrgh!! fuck it! Why is life so complicated?

Zeiss Super Inkonta - unacceptable lens flare

In the shade performance is impressive

I recently acquired a Zeiss Super Ikonta A in beautiful condition. The serial numbers indicate it was made in around 1938 and it is truly a beautiful piece of machinery.
There is plenty of information about the history of these particular camera elsewhere on the web so I won't rehash it other than to say it is a medium-format, folding camera that genuinely can fit into the back pocket of a pair of jeans -- well my jeans anyway. I'm not sure about if that would apply to Heidi Klumm. My particular model is in 645 format with 16 exposures to a roll. The B and C models shoot negatives that are 6cm x 6cm and 6cm x 9cm respectively.
The moment I saw the camera I fell in love with it. What's not to love about a medium format camera that fits in your pocket!
On the day I got the Super Ikonta I took it, loaded with Ilford XP2 Super black and white film to the 1 000 bike show in Germiston. My first outing did not go as smoothly as I hoped.
It's a quirky camera and takes some getting used to. First of all you have to ensure the film is wound to the correct spot inb one of the two red windows on the back of the camera. Then shutter speed and aperture must be set on the 3.5 Tessar lens which is somewhat of a fiddly process. Then you must flip up a front rangefinder focussing lens and, looking through a tiny rangefinder viewfinder you turn an awkward focussing wheel next to the lens. When the two images match the camera is in focus. Once that is done the shutter must be manually cocked and you must move your eye to the external viewfinder to compose and take the shot which in itself is awkward as the shutter-release button in on the left hand side of the camera.
I was prepared to put up with it's quirks as I figured I was unlikely to ever be in any particular hurry when using the camera and the small package would produce a large negative.
But I have been disappointed. The uncoated lens, while undoubtedly very sharp, produces flare that is second to none. If the sun is shining and the sun is not directly behind you there is flare and even after fashioning a lenshood the problem remained.
The fact is I am a camera user, not a collector and if the equipment does not perform then I am not interested in it. Though I like the style, the build quality and the unlikely fact that it is a chick-magnet (I could not believe how many pretty women came and struck up conversation with me when the saw the camera) I probably will not keep it. In all likelihood it will be swapped for a post-war camera with a coated lens or else put up for sale.

It's nice to be home!

It's been a while since I've written anything -- work has a habit of getting in the way of fun.
I've been giving a lot thought to the direction -- especially in terms of equipment -- that I want to follow photographically.
In future, the bulk of my work will once again be shot on good old film. A few factors have influenced my decision.
Chief amongst these is the fact that Nikon has become like Nokia with a propensity to seemingly launch five new models per month! The camera you buy this week could well be outdated next week!
I know the camera will still do the job perfectly but it becomes uncomfortable when you arrive at a job and see the bridegroom has a "later and greater" digital camera than you. The fact he knows only how to put it in "program" mode and uses it as nothing more than a fancy point-and-shoot, matters not. You still have to field questions about why you're not using the new D-whatever.

Limitation

I recently had canvas prints A2-size made from images I shot with the 6 mega-pixel D40. They are magnificent and the size was limited only because of the processing power of my computer. On a more powerful machine I could easily produce extreme-quality A0s. Yet, I still get told: "my cellphone has an 8Mp camera and, as such, I should consider using something more up-to-date than my ancient, 15 month-old camera.
It's a treadmill to nowhere. The fact is you'll always be chasing new technology with useless, unwanted features, that have have only one purpose -- to fleece you financially. Face-recognition and built-in video capability are two cases in point. How did we ever manage without that before?!
In future I will be using the digital camera primarily as a sort of Polaroid. Kinda like in the old days where we used Polaroid backs to check exposures, lighting, shadows etc and then switched to a film back.
Using film gives me an element of uniqueness in a clutter of digital sameness. It also keeps me at the cutting-edge of scanning technology. When my lab scans my film today, it is with the latest, state-of-the-art scanning equipment. In ten years-time their current scanning equipment will not doubt have been replaced by what will then be the state-of-the-art technology and my present negatives will be able to be scanned at that level.

Nikon F3

The digital image files I now have are as good as they're going to get and, if recent history is anything to go by, I probably won't be able to open those files.
With this in mind, yesterday, I took a trip to Johan at Kameraz and, after a bit of horse-trading, walked out with a Nikon F3 fitted with an MD4 motordrive.
The F3 was (is) the greatest pro 35 mm camera ever produced and I am by no means alone in that belief -- do a Google search and you'll see why so many feel that way.
It is built like a tank and, that is no idle statement. In the mid 80s a friend and colleague, well-known in press circles but who shall remain nameless here, killed a car thief when he buried his F3 and lens into the top of the criminal's head. The blood and other goo was simply washed off and the camera continued to function perfectly.
When I picked up the F3 yesterday, it was like coming home to an old friend. It has everything you need and absolutely nothing more. It's the ultimate photo-making machine where, you, rather than the camera, are in charge. There is nothing to get in the way of the process -- no decision to make about which of the 11 focus-points the camera wants to use, no poncing about trying to figure what program mode is best, or if the matrix-metering requires compensation to balance with the i-TTL flash.
Then there is no processing in RAW or NEF or whatever before you can start working on the image and no need to shoot multiple images so you can produce an HDR image because your digital camera lacks the dynamic range of flm.
You want automatic functions on the F3? Simply turn the dial on the top to "A". Choose the aperture that best suits the depth-of-field you want, rotate the ring on the lens to that aperture setting (no thumb-wheels here!), focus, compose and shoot.
No computer algorithms to take into account. No custom settings buried in the depths of a menu. Just pure, unadulterated photographic purity and joy.
It's nice to be home!

It was Christmas and my birthday this week!

A few years ago, I figured I'd learn to play the guitar and my wife bought me one for my birthday.
I quickly established that, when it comes to music, I have absolutely no talent or aptitude. About the only instrument I have any hope of playing successfully, is a portable radio!
It was with this in mind that I was delighted when, last week someone offered to buy the guitar from me at the price originally paid for it. I jumped at the offer and, with R1000 (about US$120) in my pocket, immediately set out to purchase something more useful -- a classic camera or two.
What a week it turned out to be -- like Christmas and two birthdays all rolled into one.

Spoiled for choice

At a Johannesburg camera store I was spoiled for choice. I fondled a Pentax SP SLR with a clip-on light meter, drooled over a couple of beautiful Minolta SRTs and considered another, high-quality Nikkormat.
But then I saw it, and it was love at first sight. An absolutely, like-new, seemingly never-used, Canon FTb QL with a 55mm f1.2 lens. At R350, including the original owner's manual, there was no way I was leaving without it. Heck, I would have paid three times that and still believed it a bargain!
But it didn't end there. I added a 28mm f2.8 Hervic Zivnon lens, still in its leather case and with a lens hood, for R50, a beautiful Kodalux, all metal light meter that slides into a camera hot-shoe and that can take both reflected and incident light readings for R35 and a Gossen Sixon light meter, complete with leather case for R40. Both light meters are as accurate as my digital meter and accordingly, I am delighted.
I also bought what looked like a perfectly-working Gossen Pilot (what can I say, I like light meters) but wasn't. I don't know if I'll bother to get it repaired and will probably just use it as a teaching aid.
I don't know anything about the Hervic Zivnon lens and can't find much about the brand on the Internet. It's made in Japan, appears to be all-metal and seems to be well-made. I have no idea of the quality of the images it will produce, as I have not yet used it but will post results and impressions in due course.

Contaflex

Two days later Johan from Kameraz -- who knows my fondness for classic German cameras -- called to tell me he had a pristine Zeiss Ikon Contaflex Super that was mine if I was prepared to part with R250 -- more or less what I had left over from the proceeds of the guitar sale.
I quickly high-tailed it over to his Rosebank shop and, after a couple of cups of coffee, departed with another, rescued, classic, film, camera.
It is in beautiful condition, apart from a few flecks on the mirror -- as is the case with my Kodak Retina SLR -- that have absolutely no effect on the final image.
The Contaflex is like handling a piece of jewelry and I am looking forward to running a roll of film through it. Once I get 'round to doing so I will post the results and a "review" of the camera but first want to put the Canon through its paces.
Which explains why there are no pictures accompanying this post. Right now, I am having so much fun shooting the 39 year-old Canon that I don't feel like firing up the digital Nikon to shoot pics of the new additions. Maybe on the weekend.

What a difference a lab makes!

Earlier this week I had a roll of Fuji Superia 400 ASA film developed. It was shot with my 53 year-old Kodak Retina SLR. You can read the background story behind the camera here.
To put it mildly, I was absolutely blown away. The f2 Schneider-Kreuznach lens did a phenomenal job of extracting detail in the images. In my initial article I said I was somewhat disappointed and that the lens could not hold a candle to my Nikon glass. It seemed a bit soft.
I have now completely changed my opinion. What has changed? Why the sudden improvement? I believe the reason for my initial view was largely the result of the output of the lab I used to process and scan the film.
This week's roll of film was processed by a different lab and the improved quality is astounding. The two images displayed here are a fair representation of the other pictures on the roll. Exposure for all images was set manually, using the camera's built-in selenium exposure meter, with the white incident disk clipped in place.


This allowed me to measure the light falling onto the subject, rather than the light being reflected by it. It is, without doubt, the most accurate way of determining exposure. Click here to read about taking incident meter readings.
I am loving this old camera. I would imagine I'd get the same feeling driving a '54 Gull Wing Mercedes!

Expensive disposable cameras.

Ken Rockwell has a way of riling people.
I first started reading his writings about three years ago when his site, www.kenrockwell.com turned up in an internet search.
The Californian is opinionated, shamelessly self-promoting and has a tendency to present himself as a scientist, “real photographer” and latter-day sage and philosopher.
He likes to pepper his articles with scientific terms and jargon.
But for all of that, I like him. Rockwell calls a spade a shovel -- even when it’s sometimes a rake.
Over the years that I’ve visited his site I have seen his tone and almost blind worship of the merits of, particularly Nikon, digital cameras change and watched his enthusiasm wane.
It was therefore not all that surprising when Rockwell called Nikon’s latest flagship camera, the D3X “disposable.”
This 24.5 megapixel machine boasts more options, buttons and software than was used to put Apollo 11 on the moon. It also comes -- without a lens -- with an approximate R100 000 (US$10 000 approximately) price tag. There is a comprehensive article about it here.

Disposable

The fact is, Rockwell has got it right this time. All digital cameras are in effect disposable, much like computers. The 10 year-old, top-of-the-line digital SLR that cost a similar price back then, is today, pretty well worthless.
Every time a new generation of DSLRs arrives it invariably has a different version of RAW that is not backwardly compatible with the previous firmware version. And, while it is true, software vendors like Adobe quickly introduce new editions of Photoshop that are able to handle the format, it is yet another expense.
It is a fallacy that digital is cheaper than analogue. Right now, a roll of Fuji colour film costs me about R13 when I buy it in a pack of three. Developing costs around R25 and a 16-base scan of a roll of 36 exposures comes in at around R25. That is a total of R63 or R1.75 per image.
“Ah,” I hear you say, “But you still have to buy Photoshop.”
No you don’t. There are plenty of free alternatives that do the job of photo-manipulation and re-touching just as well and I could just as easily do the necessary adjustments on the lab’s computer.
The truth is, I hate sitting behind a monitor sorting through hundreds of digital images. When I shoot film stock, I shoot fewer images and the computer work is so negligible it takes only a few seconds per image.
But what about quality?
Nikon’s new wonder camera is the first DSLR to have a sensor that is...wait for it...exactly the same size as a frame of 35mm film.
There are differing opinions on what resolution 35mm film is capable of capturing, ranging from 15 to 25 megapixels. I don’t know, I just know it’s enough. I also know film has a higher dynamic range and can capture more detail, particularly in the highlights.
Let me lay my cards on the table and say right here: I am not anti-digital in any way. I recognise, the convenience, the superb image quality and all the other advantages.
I guess, like Rockwell, I am trying to say the prices charged for an item likely to become obsolete in just a few years, are ludicrous.

Screwing us

The camera manufacturers are screwing us. There is no way on earth the Nikon D3X -- and the equivalents from the other manufacturers -- is worth R100 000, or even R30 000 for that matter!
Consider this. A new analogue, Leica system will probably come in at about R50 000 (still way over-priced) but it will still happily be taking quality pictures 50 years from now, long after the current crop of digital cameras is just a footnote in history.
And, if history is anything to go by, the Leica will sell secondhand for the price it was bought new, effectively making it free.
Digital camera makers have done a wonderful job convincing us that, after the initial investment in equipment, our picture-taking is free.
The world is littered with similar marketing examples: “free” cellphones, a free holiday when we sign a contract etc.
As they say, there is no free lunch. The first hit is free - then you’re locked in and have no option but to purchase over-priced manufacturer-only, non-standard rechargeable batteries, flash-guns that only work with that particular model, new wireless remote triggers, “upgraded” software...the list of never-ending expenses is endless.
And all to produce and image that is the same practical quality as that produced by my 25 year-old Nikkormat bought for R200. Let’s not even talk about the quality a used medium format camera system I saw advertised for R5000 will dish up!
I for one will not be dumping my film cameras.

How long will film still be available?

How long will film be around?
It’s a question that often pops up on photographic forums and in chat rooms. The answers range from “a year” to more than “100 years”.
As a dyed-in-the-wool film guy, with a love for old film cameras -- my favourite is a beautiful 1957 Voigtlander Prominent -- it’s a question that does concern me, as it no doubt does hundreds of thousands (more like millions) of other film-camera users.
It will be a sad day when I can no longer lovingly fondle and use my Nikkormats or my Rollei because film is no longer available. But I do not think that scenario is likely to happen, either in my life nor more sons’ and I think my future grandchildren will also enjoy the wonderful experience of opening a fresh canister of film.
For many that will be a wild, optimistic statement they’ll vigorously dispute.
“Film is already dead,” they’ll say, “it just doesn’t know it.”
There is no doubt digital photography has made major inroads into the market for film. The biggest blow has come, not from dedicated digital cameras, but rather from camera-equipped cellphones. No arguments there.

Where the argument falls down.

Where the contention falls is it is most often made by people living in rich western countries and, the truth is, there is a big world beyond that.
I recently stopped in at a few one-hour mini-labs in Johannesburg and nearby towns. I asked the owners what their experiences were and the answers surprised me. All reported that around 50% of their “film” business still comes from developing, scanning and printing 35mm film.
In more affluent areas digital photography occupies a larger proportion when compared with poorer areas. In a busy mini-lab in Randfontein -- a less affluent area -- I was told film make up two thirds of their business.
I would guess the situation in South Africa is reflected in Asia, China and South America. There are a lot of people in those parts of the world who already own film cameras, who cannot afford, nor want or need to supposedly “upgrade” to digital cameras. For them, using film requires no computer equipment, no power, no expensive batteries, no CD burners, no external hard-drives...well you get the picture.
And as long as that remains the case, someone will make and supply film. It may not be the traditional, large, film manufacturers, although Kodak, Fuji and Ilford have all, in the recent past, said they are committed to continuing to make film although, in fairness, it must be pointed out, some non-profitable lines have been dropped from their ranges.
But even if those companies decide to withdraw from the film market, someone else will step in. I am surprised that, with the flood of Chinese goods into South Africa, I have not yet seen anyone importing Chinese film which, by all accounts, is very good.
Film will never occupy the position it once did but it will be around for a long time. We may not be able to buy it in every corner shop and garage kiosk, as we can now.

Medium format difficulties

Unlike the situation in Europe and the US, where reports say medium format and large format film sales are seeing something of a resurgence, the opposite seems true in South Africa.
Many professional labs that used to process such film have shut down and, even if you develop it yourself, getting it scanned and printed is a problem and setting up a wet darkroom is something I do not want to do again!
But, if push comes to shove, the world is a small place nowadays, so I’ll either buy a medium format scanner or mail the negs to a lab overseas.
I love film and I love the fact that so many phenomenally good cameras are now within my reach because people are dumping them for crappy digital point-and-shoots.
Dust off those old cameras and get out there and have fun, then when, you’re too old, give ‘em to your grand-children so they can give those old gems another lifetime of use.
Film is dead! Long live film!