Another of my converted Kodak Gold shots. I almost left this one as colour, but I think the black and white version is better. The colours were pretty muted in any case.
Today was the thing at work that I mentioned a couple of days back – the thing that was causing me stress even though I suspected I was worrying for nothing. And I was right. Everything went absolutely fine. So I’ve spent a few days spending way too much time being concerned about something I needn’t have. Now I need to catch up on the other stuff I didn’t do because I was focused on this. Oh to be me…
Fujica GW690& Kodak Gold (converted to B&W in Lightroom).
Here’s another photo of a bridge crossing the River Moss (as I mentioned the other day). I took this photo just after my wallaby / kangaroo encounter (see here if you want to find out about that) and regaled a couple of other people with the tale of my unexpected encounter.
I had pretty high hopes for this photograph. I’d switched from black and white film to some Kodak Gold by this time and, while the light was dim due to the fog and the tree cover, the camera was tripod mounted and the composition was nice.
Sadly this roll of film is one that Negative Lab Pro (or perhaps me, as the user) struggled with – usually Negative Lab Pro works a treat, and I’ve had no issue with it converting Gold in the past. It could be the fact that I’m scanning on a V700 rather than a V550, but I’m not really sure. A couple of the colour images look ok, but many of them had a nasty green and purple cast to them that I was unable to remove. In the end I decided to cut my losses and convert them to black and white using Lightroom. Happily all the shots I converted suit the monochrome treatment pretty well.
I still have the un-converted RAW DNG scans so I may yet re-visit them to see if I have more luck with a further attempt but, for now at least, some of this roll will be sans colour.
Fujica GW690& Kodak Gold (converted to B&W in Lightroom).
It’s one of those days today where I don’t know what to write on the blog (although here I am, writing stuff about not knowing what to write…). Today I think it’s because I’ve got something preying on my mind at work. Nothing terrible, just something I need to do this week that I’m not sure I’m fully prepared for. Usually, it comes to pass that I’m stressing out about nothing and everything will go just fine, but that doesn’t stop my brain flipping into anxiety mode. The fact that I’m focusing on this one thing also means I’m not spending time on a bunch of other things I need to be doing, leading to a cumulative worry about, well, more stuff.
It also doesn’t help that I tend to procrastinate. And while I always pull things together in the end, there’s always the worry that one day I might not be able to. I seem find myself increasingly easily distracted from things I ought to be concentrating on in recent years, to the extent that I wouldn’t be at all surprised to find out I have ADD (but that’s another story). I guess that tomorrow I need to just pull myself together, give myself a virtual slap across the cheeks to wake myself up, and just get on with what I need to do. In a couple of days the thing will have passed and I can get back to normal (i.e. worrying about the next thing…).
So, look at that – I’ve written more than I do on many other days. Good ol’ productive stress, eh?
Here’s a picture of a foggy scene. This is probably not disimillar to what it looks like inside my head right now. 🙂
This is the first of two photographs of bridges crossing the River Moss That I’ll publish – the second will be here in a couple of days.
I managed to get out and shoot a few rolls of film today, 36 exposures on some Superia Xtra 400, and a couple of rolls of 120 through my Bronica ETRSi (one HP5+, one Fuji Pro 400H). It’s the first time in ages I’ve shot so prolifically, and should mean that the wolves can be kept from the door for a while in terms of me having new photos for the blog. I’ll get the two rolls of C41 sent off for developing tomorrow and will maybe dev the HP5+ one lunchtime this week if I get the chance. I’ve got about a half-dozen more pictures from the GW690 to keep things ticking over until then though.
I think the left side of this picture is a little messy, but there was unfortunately no way to get around it short of cropping. The GW690 has a fixed focal length and, while using my legs to zoom is often a viable technique, in this case I was hemmed in by trees at either side, and in front of my feet the ground dropped into marshy wetness where the rushes are growing and I didn’t fancy a boot full of freezing mud.
Nonetheless, the foggy morning does a lot of lifting and makes the shot quite pleasing, I think, particularly the contrast of the heads of the rushes against the faded backdrop.
Trees. Big, solid, tall, impressive things, aren’t they. But what if you were a giant? What if you stood several hundered feet tall? Would a forest become a lawn? Would the people walking beneath their canopies become like bugs?
This is what popped into my head when I was composing this shot.
This ruined structure sits beside the River Moss in Eckington near Sheffield. The main flow of the river runs to the right of the scene in the picture but there’s also a separate stream that runs behind the building which leads me to think it was a water mill of some kind. The building is depicted on Ordnance Survey maps but not named. There are the remains of mineworking in the area, with a pumphouse (named the Seldom Seen Pumphouse) a little further up the valley, so it’s possible that this building may have formed part of those activities.
Since taking posession of my Chroma 4×5 camera I’ve exposed 12 sheets of film. Two of those were complete write offs due to, ahem, user error. Some shots have looked good – not necessarily artistically so, but technicaly pleasing (at least given my current level of skill with the camera) – but quite a few have been beset by light leaks. When I developed four sheets the other day I was disappointed to see more light leaks. Two of the shots had significant leaks, the other two less noticeable, but the defect looked very similar to some of the other frames that had suffered similar problems.
My initial though was that there was a problem with one of my film holders, but on sharing the images with some other large format users, they all pointed to the problem being caused by light getting behing the film holder when it was in the camera. One way to test for this is to put a light source inside the camera in a darkened room and see if light can be seen escaping. By doing this I was able to see than no light was getting out behind the film holder but that there was a very fine strip of light visible where the camera back is magnetically attached to the body. The gap appears to be razor thin – a small fraction of a millimetre – but if light is getting out, then light can get in too.
I wondered about trying to finagle a fix – maybe putting strips of tape in the join, or maybe a shaped piece of light seal foam, but then I contacted the guy who manufactures the camera and he very kindly offered to take a look at it and see if he can identify the problem. So I now need to find a sutable carton, pack it up, and get it shipped across to him for a (hopefully!) fix.
So I’ll be shooting smaller formats for now. Not that I was ever going to give up on 135 and 120 in any case.
Here are two of the affected shots from the Chroma. The first one has little impact, but that’s possibly due to the busier nature of the scene. The second shot shows the light leak more noticeably on the left side of the image. Other shots are much more badly affected than these. While I’m disappointed by the light leaks, I can at least see than my ability to get things properly focused with the camera and its movements is improving. Still work to do, but much improved on before. I’m also impressed by just how much detail the 4×5 film can resolve.
After yesterday’s photo of the gate with the “Keep Out” sign, here’s another gate which is unlikely to be keeping anyone out. Even in it’s supine state the undergrowth is still getting through, much less any man or beast who wants to pass through the gap it has left somewhere.