a (photo) challenge a day ...

Series - Windows

2012-02-24T08:08:00.000+01:00

(Retinette IA, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21º)

(Hapo 66-E, Kodak Portra 400NC, ISO 400/27º)

(Retinette IA, Kodak Ektar 100, ISO 100/21º)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 28mm 1:2.8, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21º)

(Retinette IA, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21º)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 50mm 1:1.8, Fomapan Action 400, ISO 400/27º)

(Flexaret VI, Ilford Delta 3200, EI 3200/33º)

Winter 127 Day 2012

2012-01-27T07:30:00.000+01:00

Today, January 27th, is the Winter 127 Day (1/27). To celebrate it, users of cameras taking the 127 film format around the world go out and take pictures on this type of film. This year, 2012, marks also the centenary of the introduction of 127 film (created by Kodak in 1912). Even though 127 film saw a golden age around the 50s, nowadays only a handful of manufacturers (Efke, Maco, ...) still produce it.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 5s, f/5.6, ISO 100)
My Voigtländer Rollfilm 5x8 camera was designed to use 129 film, which was also introduced by Kodak in 1912 but discontinued in 1951. 129 film being only slightly wider than 127, my camera was adapted to take 127 film instead: metal spacers were added to account for the narrower spools and a 4x6.5cm mask was added to the original 5x8cm format.

I love the fact that someone cared so much about this camera to have it professionally adapted to 127 film, even though at the time the camera was already more than 20 years old. This alone, without counting that wonderful Heliar lens, makes me love this camera even more.

Happy Winter 127 Day everyone! :)

Series - Voigtländer Heliar

2012-01-26T07:55:00.000+01:00

(Rollfilm 5x8, Rollei Retro 80S, ISO 80/20°)
The Heliar, the "master lens", consists of 5 elements, from which 2 pairs are cemented. If 4 elements are enough for the Skopar, why does the Heliar need five? An invention of the year 1900 lead to the construction of the Heliar.

(Rollfilm 5x8, Efke R100, ISO 100/21°)
All lenses presented before possess a flawless sharpness. The Heliar does even more. It has certain qualities that can not be explained through cold, sober formulas, certain virtues that are emphasized again and again by letters of thanks from the Voigtländer community, it has something that does not show on the laboratory test bench but only in its daily use in the field: the Heliar does not merely make a picture, but an image^(*).

(Rollfilm 5x8, Rollei Retro 80S, ISO 80/20°)
Even though possessing sharp delineation and excellent resolution, the Heliar --so say its happy owners-- does not have a cold and hard sharpness but a filmy one, that softens the transition between the in-focus and out-of-focus regions, and does not let any part of the picture stand out in a displeasing way, but instead conveys an harmonic and natural roundness to the picture.

(Rollfilm 5x8, Efke R100, ISO 100/21°)
And its peculiarity is that this lens is not better suited for a particular photographic field, but it masters the whole spectrum, from portraiture to sport photography.

(Rollfilm 5x8, Rollei Retro 80S, ISO 80/20°)
Therefore the "master lens" and therefore five elements!

(text taken from a Voigtländer catalogue from 1930)

^(*) Das Heliar gibt uns keine Abbildung, sondern ein Bild.

Time machine - Important notice

2012-01-22T11:54:00.000+01:00

«Also, it is scarcely necessary to point out that, when the camera is loaded, the shutter should be opened only for the purpose of taking a picture; any accidental exposure will spoil a section of film.»

(from the instruction manual of a 1930 Voigtländer Rollfilm camera)

Red sweater [stranger 17/99]

2012-01-10T19:29:00.001+01:00

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)
My seventeenth stranger was reading a book minutes before her bus came.

Series - 8 days, 8 cameras, 8 films

2011-12-11T07:01:00.000+01:00

(Supercolor 635 LM Program, Impossible PX600 Silver Shade UV+, ISO 600/29°)

(Retinette IA, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

(Flexaret VI, Ilford XP2 Super 400, ISO 400/27°)

(Beltica I, Agfaphoto Vista 200, expired 2009, ISO 200/24°)

(Ideal 250/3, Fuji Neopan 100 Acros, ISO 100/21°)

(Vito I, Ilford FP4 Plus 125, ISO 125/22°)

(Hapo 66-E, Kodak T-MAX 400, ISO 400/27°)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 28mm 1:2.8, Fomapan Action 400, ISO 400/27°)

Happy Analogversary! :)

2011-12-10T23:50:00.000+01:00

One year ago, I published my first film picture on flickr. In fact, I had already posted a couple of shots taken with the Diana Mini, but it was with this picture, taken with the Kodak Retinette IA, that I realized that film photography was truly something worth spending my energy and devoting myself to, that it could replace and multiply the joy that I got from digital photography. Film photography became, thus, a project on its own.

(Retinette IA, Kodacolor 200, ISO 200/24°)
For me, this picture represents the beginning of an amazing year, photographically speaking, rich in surprises and full of fun and learning. In this year I published almost 300 film pictures to my flickr photostream, from them 120 on black and white film, 90 on color negative film and 90 on color slide film.

I exposed 86 films: 38 on 35mm format, 45 medium format, 2 film sheets and 1 instant film pack. The most used black and white film is tied between Kodak Tri-X 400 and Ilford FP4 Plus 125 (both 3 rolls). The most used color negative has been Kodak Portra 400 (4 rolls) and the most used color slide film Fujichrome Velvia 50 (9 rolls).

I used 12 cameras: six 35mm cameras, four medium format cameras, an (almost) large format camera (Ideal 250/3) and an instant film camera. The one that I used the most has been my beloved Flexaret VI, with which I exposed 25 films this year.

How much did I learn this year? Really a lot, but hopefully not half of what I am going to learn next year. Because my head is boiling with new challenges and exciting projects! :) Thanks for sharing this journey with me! :)

Fitch [stranger 16/99]

2011-12-06T07:54:00.000+01:00

(Flexaret VI, Ilford XP2 Super 400, ISO 400/27°)
My sixteenth stranger was really focused on his smartphone.

The old lady - Zeiss Ikon Ideal 250/3

2011-11-20T18:29:00.000+01:00

The principle behind photography is fairly simple: you just need a dark space where light can enter through a hole in a controlled way and some kind of light-sensitive receptor material (silver halide salts or CMOS semiconductors). This dark space (or camera obscura) is, of course, the photographic camera. Every photographic device in the world, no matter how fancy, no matter how hi-tech, relies on this principle. My oldest camera (for now) is a Zeiss Ikon Ideal 250/3 UU and its design, operation and engineering bring my thoughts back to this principle every single time I hold it in my hands.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 0.8s, f/10, ISO 100)
The Ideal 250/3 is a folding bed plate camera that takes pictures on 6.5x9 sheet film. It sports an uncoated Carl Zeiss Jena Tessar 120mm f/4.5 lens in a rim-set Compur shutter with a maximum speed of 1/250. It was made by Zeiss Ikon in Dresden, Germany some time around 1930, making it actually a proud more-than-80-year-old camera that still works and is able to take great pictures.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 3.2s, f/11, ISO 100)
When closed, the Ideal is no bigger than a pocket book. It is first when you open it and the front standard (lens and shutter mount) snaps into place at the infinity stop that you realize that this is a camera built for a lifetime, and even longer.

Operating a plate camera is quite different than using other types of cameras, or at least it looks so. In fact, with a plate camera you have to take care of many operations that other cameras are able to do for you. To take a picture with the Ideal, you first open the shutter in the T setting to project the image going through the lens onto a ground glass screen that is attached to the camera back. This screen is used to adjust focus and framing. The projected image is quite dim and difficult to figure out, especially in broad daylight. That's why you need to block as much ambient light as you can for example with a dark cloth, the same dark cloth that the photographer uses to cover his head that is still a universally recognizable symbol for a photographer. In the Ideal, a black hood unfolds and allows to see the screen in its shade.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 1.3s, f/9, ISO 100)
The image projected onto the ground glass, like all images going through a photographic lens, is reversed upside-down and right-to-left. This makes framing and composing a picture a hard task, although I also think that precisely this reversed image puts enough distance between the reality that you are photographing and the reality that you see through the camera, making the casual snapshot virtually impossible but allowing for much more thoughtful and elaborated compositions. Reversed images and, in general, cameras that are hard to use, make you, I believe, a better photographer.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 1.3s, f/9, ISO 100)
The focus is adjusted by turning a knob that moves the front standard (that is, the plane where the lens and shutter stand) closer or farther away from the rear standard (the plane where the film or the ground glass focusing screen stands). A magnifying glass is of great help to accurately judge focus on the screen. The bellows can extend to double the length of the camera, allowing for really amazing close-up focusing. Another nice feature of the Ideal is that the front standard has the possibility to have shift and rise/fall movements, which are very useful to correct perspective. The bigger version of the Ideal (the 250/7 for 9x12 plates) can also tilt the rear standard to take full advantage of the Scheimpflug principle, but with my little 6.5x9 camera I can only make a "quasi-Scheimpflug" effect by partially folding the camera back.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 1s, f/9, ISO 100)
Suppose we have found a pleasant framing, that focus is adjusted and that we like what we see on the screen. Without moving the camera, the ground glass screen must now be removed from the camera back and replaced by the film, in order to capture exactly the desired image on it. For that, a film holder is attached to the camera back, exactly in the same position where the ground glass screen was. This film holder is a light-tight cartridge containing one sheet of film, with a removable dark slide that must be taken off to take the picture. Of course, loading the film into the holder is something that must be done in absolute darkness. For that matter, I had to get myself a changing bag, which is basically a big light-tight black bag with holes for your arms, where you can load and unload film sheets even if you don't have a darkroom. After a little practice, your hands quickly learn to operate without the aid of your eyes.

Now the film holder is in place and it is time to evaluate and set exposure: shutter speed and aperture. Then, after double-checking that the holder is firmly attached to the camera back, carefully remove the dark slide, cock the shutter and take your picture. Then put the dark slide carefully back into place and you can remove the film holder from the camera. If you want to take more pictures, you need additional film holders loaded with unexposed film sheets. I got four film holders with my Ideal. That is the maximum number of pictures that I am able to take on sheet film on a photo walk with my Ideal... ;)

The format of sheet film that the Ideal takes, 6.5x9cm, was fairly common in 1930 but now there are no new cameras made to use it. Fortunately, some film manufacturers like Efke in Croatia and Spürsinn and Fotoimpex in Germany still cut film in this format. Only black and white, though. As I got the Ideal I also bought a package of 50 sheets of ADOX CHS 100. But I have only used 2 sheets so far, because at a proud 6€ lab development cost per sheet, this is something that clearly calls for home development. Some day...

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 2s, f/11, ISO 100)
Fortunately, there is something called a roll film adapter, which is attached to the camera back like the film holders, but is designed to contain a standard roll of 120 film, the same medium format film that I use with other cameras. This roll film adapter allows taking pictures in 6x9 format, which is almost as big as the original sheet film. Roll film adapters were very common in the golden age of plate cameras (between the beginning of the 20th century and World War II) and there were adapters made for every camera in the market. Because the way holders attach to the camera back was by no means standardized: each camera maker, and even each camera model, had its own system and compatibility was rare, meaning that you have to use the film holders and roll film backs designed specifically for your camera model. I was lucky enough to get film holders that fit the Ideal when I got the camera, but the roll film adapter was a whole other story. Because the Ideal, to make things funnier, uses a very comfortable but at the same time extremely unusual snap-in system for attaching the film holders.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 1/50, f/2.8, ISO 500)
On my last visit to Vienna, I asked the man in the Leica vintage shop if they would have a compatible roll film adapter and handed him the camera. He went inside and, after almost twenty minutes, he came out again with a couple of adapters that would more or less fit. The one that I eventually got was the only one that attached really firmly to the camera back, but it was not conceived for an Ideal back. It lacked a light trap on top, but unfortunately I had to ruin two rolls of film almost completely before noticing the light leak ^(*). A small felt strip wrapped in gaffer tape, attached at the right place on the roll film adapter with some more gaffer tape does the trick and makes the camera pretty much light-tight. This means that I am able to use any kind of 120 film I want with the Ideal. Even my beloved Velvia color slides!

To use the Ideal is really a joy. Its small size makes it easy to carry around and, once unfolded, it is for sure going to attract curious looks. This is not a camera for casual snapshots, and even less for quick action: other camera types are much more suited for such purposes. The Ideal is the perfect camera for slow photography, quite often using tripod, for taking your time to think about what you are doing before shooting. Because the process is complex and the steps must be done in the right order.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 1/40, f/5.6, ISO 100)
Using the Ideal makes me strangely happy. I guess it is not only because of some masochistic fun in needing longer than one minute to take a picture, but because it conveys a sense of being doing real photography, focusing on the ground glass and then changing to the film back makes me feel that I am playing with the big boys now, it is almost large format photography with a view camera. It brings me close to the origins, it makes me feel like a photographic pioneer. But the main reason of this strange happiness is, I guess, being able to take pictures with a camera that is still working after more than 80 years. That's more than twice my age. None of my still living grandparents was even born as my Ideal left the Zeiss Ikon factory. Kind of the ultimate dream of every vintage camera lover.

Zeiss Ikon Ideal 250/3
My Ideal 250/3 flickr set

Maker	Zeiss Ikon
Model	Ideal 250/3 UU
Type	folding bed plate camera
Lens	Carl Zeiss Jena Tessar 120mm f/4.5 (No. 1038494, 1930)
Shutter	Compur, rim set, 1 - 1/250 + B + T (No. 1070662, 1930)
Film type	sheet film 6.5x9
Year	~1930
Country	Germany

^(*) some of the pictures, though, look kind of dreamy, light leaks are not always bad!

Series - autumn on velvia

2011-11-18T09:19:00.000+01:00

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

Series - vanishing storefronts

2011-11-11T11:09:00.000+01:00

(Super Ikonta A 531, Fomapan Creative 200, ISO 200/24°)

(Retinette Ia, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 28mm 1:2.8, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

(Vito I, Profilm Tri-X 400, ISO 400/27°)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 50mm 1:1.8, Fujichrome Sensia 100, ISO 100/21°)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 50mm 1:1.8, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 50mm 1:1.8, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 50mm 1:1.8, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 50mm 1:1.8, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 50mm 1:1.8, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

Chess [stranger 15/99]

2011-10-15T07:00:00.000+02:00

(Hapo 66-E, Fujichrome Provia 400X, ISO 400/27°)
My fifteenth stranger was playing chess in the warm almost spring sun.

Time machine - Carrying the Vito

2011-10-02T17:29:00.000+02:00

«However elegant it may be to carry the camera on a long strap hanging from the shoulder, this position is quite unsuitable for quick action. Many a good shot has been lost in this way. A better method is to carry the Vito on a strap around the neck, so that it lies on the chest. Opening the front and lifting the camera up to the eye is then a matter of a split second.»

(from the instruction manual of a 1940 Voigtländer Vito camera)

The 30 day photography challenge

2011-10-01T13:38:00.000+02:00

Last weekend, as we were riding our bicycles on our way back home from a nice picnic, Mar told me that she wanted to take the 30 day photography challenge proposed by White Peach Photography for last June, but using film instead of digital, in fact using a single roll of 35mm film. She told me she was looking for some other photographers to take the challenge and, of course, I couldn't resist.

In October we are going to shoot a picture every day, matching the topic in White Peach Photography's proposed list. Since a 35mm film cartridge has 36 exposures, we have to be careful with the shutter, because there are only 6 additional frames for the 30 days in October.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 1/25, f/11, ISO 100)
But, since I wanted a little bit of extra "kick" on this challenge, I decided I'm going to use an Agfa Vista 200 film that expired in 2009 and, even more interesting, a Belca Beltica, a 1951 35mm folder camera that is completely unknown to me (I just got it last Wednesday!). This is going to be the first roll of film that I expose with the Beltica.

In fact, I think a film 30-day challenge is by far less time-demanding than a digital-based one, because the natural limits of the technology used (36 frames, all have to be developed at the same time, at the end) lets you concentrate exclusively on shooting.

In one month I hope I'll be able to share some of the results of this challenge! :)

Series - blinding summer sun

2011-09-30T09:53:00.001+02:00

This series is my personal farewell to summer...

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

[All pictures were made with the same camera (Flexaret VI), on the same roll of film (Velvia 50), on the same day (August 18th).]

Reading [stranger 14/99]

2011-09-23T21:24:00.003+02:00

(Ideal 250/3, Ilford Pan F Plus 50, ISO 50/18°)
My fourteenth stranger kept reading as if she hadn't noticed the crazy guy that needed more than one minute to take her picture: unfold the camera, set shutter to T and open it, open the ground glass cover, try to focus in the bright sun (didn't get it too well :-/), close the shutter, set shutter speed and aperture, take down the ground glass, snap the roll film back in place, cock the shutter, remove the dark slide from the roll film back and use it to make shadow for the lens, release the shutter, place the dark slide again, remove the roll film back and advance the film until the next frame number appears in the red window, snap the ground glass back into place, fold the camera, and you're done!

Series - wide angle

2011-09-02T08:27:00.000+02:00

(Praktica BMS, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

(Praktica BMS, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

(Praktica BMS, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

(Praktica BMS, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

(Praktica BMS, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

RVP50 - the Velvia fascination

2011-08-27T19:42:00.001+02:00

If I had to choose my favorite black&white film I would really have a hard time, because there are so many near-favorites I can think of...^(*) For the choice of my favorite color slide film, on the other hand, the answer would be almost immediate and an easy single word: Velvia.

Velvia is the contraction of the words "Velvet Media", a reference to the image smoothness this film made by Fuji renders. The original Fujichrome Velvia was introduced in 1990 and was quickly adopted as a favorite color slide film by many photographers until production ceased in 2005. The outcry of the photographic community around the world was so loud that Fuji was forced to host a Velvia comeback in 2007, featuring a new film base but retaining the look of the classic film.

(Hapo 66-E, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)
One of the most celebrated features of this film is its almost unbelievable sharpness. The richness of detail on Velvia frames never ceases to strike and amaze me, especially when combined with a very sharp lens, like the one on my Hapo 66-E. Velvia is able to resolve 160 lines per mm, which allows for really huge prints without loss of detail. Projecting a medium format Velvia frame onto a wall must be something truly incredible...

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)
But the feature that strikes the most when looking at a Velvia picture is the high color saturation: a blue sky is deep blue, meadows are extra green and flowers are so vivid in color that they even seem unreal. This is no coincidence, since the engineers at Fuji designed a film on which the pictures of the last holiday looked even better than it really looked. Velvia makes everything look more intense, more vibrant. ^(**)

(Hapo 66-E, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)
The classic Velvia is an ISO 50 film, which might make it a little too slow for low light situations or overcast skies, but it is perfect for bright sunny days, when also the extra push in color saturation provides the most spectacular results. The code name for Velvia is RVP, which stands for Reversal/Velvia/Professional. The old Velvia was just RVP, the newly introduced is RVP50.

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)
It was when I first starting using Velvia that I understood something important about image processing. At first, one might have the feeling that film is the purest form of photography, because there is no image processing going on, no change in colors, no double layers in Gimp, no color correction in Lightroom... But, in fact, almost all this clever tricks that we can apply digitally did not come to the world in bright and clean rooms in San José in the early 90s, but originated from a long darkroom tradition that started more than a century ago. A film, as a medium designed for holding an image, must transform it in some way, and presents it to the viewer not as it was in the reality, but as the designers of that medium decided it should be. This is what happens with Velvia, but also with each and every film that ever existed, and exactly the same thing that happens in Gimp, Photoshop or Lightroom. When doing it digitally, we just have more control over it. But the transformation happens so or so.

There is nothing new under the sun. But, thank goodness, we have RVP50 to photograph it.

Pictures taken on Velvia 50 in my flickr photostream
^(*) for example, Kodak Tri-X 400, Rollei Retro 80S, Ilford Pan F Pus 50, Efke 25, Ilford HP5 Plus 400, just to mention a few...
^(**) these highly saturated colors, though, are not suitable for portraits, since they tend to give a red cast to skin.

Turn around [stranger 13/99]

2011-08-20T17:10:00.000+02:00

(Retinette IA, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)
My thirteenth stranger turned around to the camera hanging from my neck just an instant before the self-timer fired the shutter.

At the market [stranger 12/99]

2011-08-04T19:13:00.001+02:00

(EOS 40D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/200, f/11, ISO 400)
My twelfth stranger had just bought a plant at the Saturday market.

Medium format in your pocket - Hapo 66-E

2011-07-10T22:07:00.002+02:00

Last Christmas I had the chance to hold a Zeiss Ikon folder camera in my hands for the first time^(*). Ever since then, having been recently infected with the vintage camera collector virus, I wanted to try taking pictures with one. A visit to Vienna in February was the perfect excuse to have a look around the stores in and around the Westbahnstrasse. After a little search, I got a very inexpensive camera whose lens was in excellent condition: a Hapo 66-E.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 Macro, off-camera Speedlite 430EX II)
The Hapo 66-E is a medium format folder camera, produced by Balda in West Germany for the Photo Porst department stores (Hapo = HAnns POrst) between 1955 and 1961. Photo Porst was one of the biggest mail order sellers in Germany from its foundation in 1919 until it filed for bankruptcy in 2007. Along its history, Photo Porst made agreements with several camera makers of the time to produce cameras to be sold only through their mail order catalogs, kind of like what Sears did in the United States. The Hapo 66-E is, in fact, a Balda Mess-Baldix fitted with an Enna Haponar 75mm f/3.5 lens and a basic Pronto shutter with speeds from 1/25 to 1/200.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 Macro, 1/25, f/6.3, ISO 100)
The Hapo uses medium format film of type 120, taking 12 frames in square 6x6 format, the same one I already knew from my Flexaret. There are two things that I love about 6x6 medium format. First, the size of the negatives: there is something very special about holding those huge 56x56mm frames in front of a light and wondering at the richness of the tones and the detail, especially with color slide film. I know of no computer monitor or projector able to convey the same feeling that looking at a medium format color slide frame does. Imagine a negative that is almost 10 times the size of a standard APS-C digital sensor (and almost 4 times the size of a full frame sensor) and can hold even more information per area unit. Welcome to medium format film! :)

Secondly, I find that 12 frames in a roll of film is a perfect measure for an excursion or a short photo walk. This still sounds strange even to me, used as I was to come back with 200+ digital shots from a mini photo walk around the corner, but I think that when you know that you only have 12 shots, you actually end up making better photographs. Roll film lacks, of course, the immediacy you would get with a digital camera, but the turnaround time is far better in comparison to the 36 frames you are bound to shoot with 35mm film.

Through the viewfinder of the Hapo 66-E (Coolpix S200, 1/67, f/3.1, ISO 100)
The Hapo has an uncoupled rangefinder: that means you can actually measure the distance to your subject, but then you need to read this distance from a wheel on the camera body and transfer it manually to the scale on the lens. Since I got used to estimate the focusing distance with the Retinette, though, I seldom use the rangefinder.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 Macro, 1/60, f/5.0, ISO 100)
Operating the Hapo, as it happens with most vintage cameras, takes a while to get used to. Loading the film is the first challenge, because it uses a red window in the back to align the frames. In fact, you just need to use the red window to align the first frame: after that, the film advance mechanism (which has even a working counter!) will provide the exact spacing for the 12 frames. It is important to set the counter to 1, though, because these spacing cleverly accounts for the growing diameter of the film as it is advanced. On my first roll I had some quite happy overlapping accidents for not resetting the counter properly... There is a double exposure prevention mechanism as well, which blocks the shutter until the film has been advanced to the next frame. It needs to be operated carefully: sometimes it gets stuck and the shutter is not released. Not a big problem, though, with folder cameras you can always release the shutter directly, bypassing the shutter release on the camera body.

The Hapo is the first camera that I use where the shutter needs to be cocked^(**) separately; on all my other cameras the shutter is automatically cocked with the film advance mechanism. Quite easy to forget: I cannot count how many times did I press the button and wondered why nothing happened...

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 Macro, 1/20, f/6.3, ISO 100)
But, of all the features of my Hapie, what amazes me every time I get a new film developed is the sharpness of the lens. The richness of the detail this little simple lens (a Cooke's triplet) is able to record is absolutely exceptional. It is by far much sharper than the Tessar-like lens on the Flexaret or the Schneider-Kreuznach triplet on the Retinette.

(EOS 40D, Sigma EX DG 50mm f/2.8 Macro, 1/50, f/2.8, ISO 100)
What I find really exciting about medium format folder cameras like the Hapo 66-E is that you have all the advantages of medium format film but do not need to carry around a beefy twin lens reflex. In addition, they can be really old, which is something that very much appeals to me.

Hapo 66-E (camera-wiki.org) My Hapo 66-E flickr set

Maker	Balda
Model	Hapo 66-E
Type	Rangefinder (uncoupled) folder camera
Lens	Enna Haponar 75mm f/3.5
Shutter	Pronto 1/25 - 1/200 + B
Film type	Medium format (120), 6x6
Year	1955-61
Country	West Germany

^(*) the same one through which I, later on, would run a roll of film...
^(**) To cock the shutter means to pull a lever in order to provide the mechanical energy that the shutter requires for operating. This is the reason why there is no need of batteries of any kind: the source of energy is the photographer!

Ilford XP2 Super 400 - developing b&w in color negative chemicals

2011-07-08T21:04:00.003+02:00

(Flexaret VI, Ilford XP2 Super 400, EI 400/27°)

Ilford XP2 Super 400 is a film for black&white prints that is developed using the C41 process, which is used for developing color negatives. I guess that's the reason why the negatives have a kind of subtle reddish tones.

Pictures taken on Ilford XP2 Super 400 in my flickr photostream

Series - rain (almost b&w with soundtrack)

2011-06-26T11:46:00.000+02:00

Glenn Miller and His Orchestra - Moonlight Serenade
(Retinette IA, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

Benny Goodman - Sentimental Journey
(Praktica BMS, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

Ella Fitzgerald - Rain
(Retinette IA, Ilford FP4 Plus 125, ISO 125/22°)

Glenn Miller - In a Sentimental Mood
(Retinette IA, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

Louis Armstrong - Solitude
(Praktica BMS, Fuji Neopan 400, ISO 400/27°)

My flickr rain (almost b&w with soundtrack) series

Attachment

2011-06-15T00:13:00.012+02:00

There is a strange connection between a photographer and his or her camera.

The longer a camera is used, the stronger the fondness the photographer feels for it grows. If you really enjoy using a camera and you take a lot of pictures with her, it ends up being kind of an extension of your arms, your fingers, your mind and your soul. I guess it is because a camera is like a musical instrument: an inanimate object that accomplishes a key part in the expression of a feeling, which opens a new chance for people to communicate.

I believe every photographer transfers a bit of her or his soul to the camera. And I think this is also one of the reasons for the fascination about old second hand cameras. I like to make imaginary journeys to the past and try to know which hands used our cameras before mine. My Flexaret, for example, could have been bought by Pavel, a Czechoslovak journalist living in Prague by the end of the 60s, although he originally came from Bohemia. Our EOS 40D could have belonged to Lukas, a young hobby photographer living in Linz, who sold it when he decided to get a 5D to try and start a new career as a professional wedding photographer. Or my Hapo, that could have been owned by Helga, a Bavarian woman living in a small town close to Nürnberg by 1959, who wanted to have her own camera and got it in the mail from Photo Porst's catalogue. She had to cope with the laughs of her husband, who was a heavy smoker. Helga, though, showed a very insightful eye for photography since the very first moment she started shooting with the Hapo. Its leather case became impregnated with the smell of her husband's cigarettes, which would not vanish for decades.

On our last visit to Munich I took the chance to look around a couple of second hand camera shops. As I entered F&S in the Herzogspitalstraße (which looks like a watchmaker's, only with tons of cameras and lenses from the last hundred years piled on the shelves) there was this elder gentleman in front of me who, as I quickly realized, was not buying anything but trying to sell a camera to the store owner.

(Flexaret VI, Ilford XP2 Super 400, ISO 400/27°)
The camera was a nice looking Rolleiflex TLR sporting f/2.8 lenses. The old man took it carefully from the leather case and, trying to conceal a slight shake of his hands, handed it over to the store owner, who took it roughly and examined it with the look of a professional poker player. He quickly opened the back and, releasing the shutter in B mode, held the 'flex up against a light to examine the lens. He then proceeded to put it down and told the man that the lens had a scratch and that he could only give him 50€ for the camera. The man looked shocked and told him it was a very fine camera, and asked him how much would he sell it for afterwards. The store owner did not answer and gave the 'flex back to the old man and, looking at me and ignoring him, asked me what I wanted. The old man, visibly annoyed, put the camera back in its case and left the store.

I asked the store owner to show me one of the cameras from the shop window but, probably because of the scene I just witnessed, I decided to bring my business elsewhere. I had a strong gut feeling that someone capable of offering 50€ for a camera that he could then easily sell for more than 200€ was not really someone to be trusted.

I walked down a couple of blocks to another shop that I already visited in the morning. As I reached the counter, I asked one of the salesmen for the article I wanted ^(*), which was exposed in a quite hidden showcase. As we returned to the counter, I looked to my left and saw the same gentleman already taking his Rolleiflex out of its leather case. He was showing it to another salesman, who was shaking his head negatively. Then the old man told him that he also had a big collection of Nikon lenses, “just like the ones you have back there!”, and if they would take them.

I felt deeply sorry for the old man. Judging by the extreme care he showed when taking his camera in and out of the leather case, I guessed selling it had been no easy decision for him: the 'flex had clearly been a source of enjoyment in the past. I tried to imagine the happy memories that this camera brings to the old man's mind. This thought made me sad and even angrier at how the other store tried to rip him off.

The man then slowly put his 'flex back into the leather case and the whole thing in a white plastic bag and turned around to leave this store with no success, too. As he walked past me, our eyes met and for an instant a crazy thought crossed my mind, but then I reminded myself I already have a TLR, which, in fact, was hanging from my neck the whole time!

I really wish the old man finds a honest buyer for his Rolleiflex, one that appreciates its true value, both material and sentimental.

^(*) in case you're wondering what did I eventually bring home from Munich, well, you'll still have to be a little patient... ;)

Smiling [stranger 11/99]

2011-06-12T12:03:00.001+02:00

(EOS 40D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/250, f/11, ISO 400)
My eleventh stranger was smiling at his granddaughter.

Series - dandelions

2011-06-10T19:42:00.001+02:00

(Retinette IA, Fujicolor Superia Reala 100, ISO 100/21°)

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)

(Praktica BMS, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

(Retinette IA, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

(Praktica BMS, Kodak Elite Chrome Extra Color 100, ISO 100/21°)

My flickr dandelion series

Guest Cameras - Zeiss Ikon Super Ikonta A 531

2011-06-02T22:03:00.001+02:00

If there is a name that every vintage camera lover should know and revere, it is that of Carl Zeiss. Even today, this name stands for ingenious optics discoveries, finest German craftsmanship and top quality lenses. Zeiss was, in its heyday before and after World War II, a huge conglomerate that dominated (and almost monopolized) the camera and optics market for decades. Zeiss's camera division produced cameras under the brand Zeiss Ikon.

Recently I had the chance to run a roll of film through one of the finest cameras ever produced by Zeiss Ikon, a Super Ikonta, which my mother-in-law received as a present from an acquaintance that did not want it to get lost when she died, and that my sister-in-law is beginning to use these days.

(EOS 350D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 1/13, f/5.0, ISO 800)
The Super Ikonta A 531 is a medium format folder camera that takes pictures in 6x4.5 format on 120 roll film. It sports a Carl Zeiss Tessar 75mm f/3.5 lens, which is also a legendary lens designed by Paul Rudolph in 1907 while working for Zeiss. The Tessar lens design was copied by virtually every lens maker for years and years. The Super Ikonta 531 was produced from 1937 to 1956. The exemplar that I used was made between 1952 and 1956, since these are the only Super Ikontas with a Synchro Compur leaf shutter.

(Super Ikonta A 531, Fomapan Creative 200, ISO 200/24°)
The most ingenious feature of a Super Ikonta is its coupled rangefinder (in fact, this is exactly what makes it a Super Ikonta instead of a regular Ikonta). A rangefinder is a device that allows measuring the distance to the subject so that you can set the focus right on the lens. To operate a rangefinder, two superposed images have to coincide on the subject you want to photograph. With an uncoupled rangefinder, the photographer should transfer manually the reading from the rangefinder to the lens; with a coupled one the focus distance is automatically transfered to the lens. In the Super Ikonta, a small auxiliary lens pops up from the lens itself and moves forward and backward with the focusing of the lens. The image going through this auxiliary lens has to coincide with a second one in the rangefinder by means of turning the focus ring on the lens. There is no need for a complicated mechanical transfer from the camera body to the lens: light, optics and genius are enough to do the job.

Having a new old camera in your hands is a real joy, because you have to figure out how to operate it, and in this process you come closer to the clever minds that conceived and designed it. It makes you realize what a long path camera development has already left behind, how many standard features we assume without questioning. The shutter release of the Super Ikonta, for example, has to be operated with the left hand instead of the standard right hand operation of today's cameras. Of course, it takes a while to get used to.

(Super Ikonta A 531, Fomapan Creative 200, ISO 200/24°)
Like in most medium format folder cameras, the film has to be advanced using a red window. That means a little window opens on the back of the camera and the film has to be advanced by turning a knob until the next frame number appears in the window. 120 roll film has a paper back with guide frame numbers printed on it for the different formats it can take, namely 6x4.5, 6x6 and 6x9. Other cameras have a more modern film advance mechanism that automatically blocks the spool when the next frame is in place.

On the Super Ikonta, the film advance knob has a double exposure prevention mechanism as well, that blocks the shutter release until the film has been advanced. In this exemplar, though, the mechanism got jammed from time to time and did not unlock the shutter release even though the film had been correctly advanced to the next frame. But this is not a real problem when using folder cameras, because there is always a direct release on the shutter itself, which is activated more or less cleverly from the shutter release on the camera body. For some of the pictures I had to press a small lever at the bottom of the shutter, but that's also part of the fun.

(Super Ikonta A 531, Fomapan Creative 200, ISO 200/24°)
The Super Ikonta I had the honor to use is a really well preserved exemplar (considering it was made more than 50 years ago!), and even though the Tessar lens could use a thorough cleaning between the elements, it still produces astonishingly sharp pictures. All shutter speeds seem correct, even the slower ones, and except for the occasional jamming of the double exposure prevention, the camera works with a smoothness and precision one can only marvel at. Once again, I wonder how would any of our fancy dSLRs perform in the year 2060...

Maker	Zeiss Ikon
Model	Super Ikonta A 531
Type	Folder
Lens	Carl Zeiss Tessar 75mm f/3.5
Shutter	Synchro Compur 1 - 1/500 + B
Film type	medium format (120), 6x4.5
Year	1952-56
Country	West Germany

Ntchs! [stranger 10/99]

2011-05-25T21:36:00.001+02:00

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Tri-X 400, EI 400/27°)
You've seen her, she waits on her bike for the traffic light to get green. You approach her silently, measure the light and set shutter speed and f-number. You make as if you waited for the green light, too, and very carefully turn your TLR ninety degrees to the left. You look down to the waist-level finder, adjust the focus and compose the picture and then...
My tenth stranger decided to check her bonnet exactly when I released the shutter. Damn! :)

Meterless exposure

2011-05-22T18:57:00.005+02:00

I once read a story, probably apocryphal, about an interviewer who asked Henri Cartier-Bresson, the legendary street photographer, if it was true that he did not use a light meter to get his exposures. Cartier-Bresson said it was true and, to prove it, proceeded to give two exposures (shutter speed and aperture for a given ISO film speed), one for the left and one for the right side of the interviewer's face, which was lit from the side. Both exposures turned out to be correct.

The ultimate challenge when using vintage photographic cameras is that they usually predate the automatic exposure era. The problem of determining exposures has to be faced by the photographer alone, and this is one of the reasons why I love them. As I began photographing with the Retinette I thought about getting a light meter. At first I even took one of our dSLRs with me to measure, and then transferred shutter speed and aperture settings to the Retinette, but this was kind of using a can(n)on to kill a fly... ;) Then I came across Fred Parker's ultimate exposure computer, which was exactly what I was looking for: a (relatively) easy way to determine exposure without the need of a light meter, using nothing more than your eyes and your brain.

The main idea is to estimate the amount of light falling into a scene. This is the only input required: everything else is known or can be decided creatively. The amount of light is measured by a magnitude called exposure value (EV). Our eyes and our brains are indeed perfectly capable of estimating exposure value, one just needs a little practice and some reference points. For example, a typical scene in bright direct sunlight has an exposure value of EV15. A direct light in heavy overcast or an area in open shade with clear sunlight needs EV12. The light with a clear sky one hour after sunrise is EV9-11. A home interior in artificial light is EV5-7. And so on.

(Retinette IA, Fujicolor Superia Reala 100, ISO 100/21°)This one was shot at EV14, since the sun came from one side, on an ISO 100 film. I set 1/125 and went one step down the EV scale to an f/11 aperture.
Once the exposure value has been estimated, determining the aperture and shutter speed is quite easy if you use the sunny f/16 rule as an anchor point. This rule states that EV 15 (corresponding to bright direct sunlight) requires approximately the reciprocal of the ISO speed for the shutter at f/16. If you are using ISO 100, then 1/125 @f/16 is the nearest setting; for ISO 200 it would be 1/250 @f/16 and for ISO 400 it would be 1/500 @f/16.

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Tri-X 400, ISO 400/27°)This picture was shot at EV15 on an ISO 400 film. I set the shutter speed to 1/400 (maximum in the Flexaret) to freeze the movement as much as I could, since I was walking. The sunny f/16 rule required an aperture of f/16.
Both shutter speed and aperture (f-number) scales are calibrated for each stop to be exactly one EV point. This makes using the sunny f/16 rule very easy. Suppose we want to shoot a scene at EV12 and we have ISO 200. Now EV15 would mean 1/250 @f/16, but we want to go 3 stops down to EV12. Now we could go three units down in any dimension: keep shutter speed at 1/250 and set aperture to f/11 (-1EV), f/8 (-2EV) and finally f/5.6 (-3EV = EV12, our target), or you could keep aperture at f/16 and reduce shutter speed to 1/125 (-1EV), 1/60 (-2EV) and 1/30 (-3EV = EV12, again our target). A combination of both is of course possible: 1/125 @f/8 (-1EV in shutter speed and -2EV in aperture) and 1/60 @f/11 (-2EV in shutter speed and -1EV in aperture) would both expose correctly for EV12.

In this way, you can always decide an aperture first (for depth of field considerations) and then determine shutter speed and ISO for the scene. Or start with the shutter speed (to freeze a moving subject, for example) and determine aperture and ISO later. The ISO speed scale is calibrated in EV units as well. The step from one ISO speed to the next is exactly 1 EV. For film users like myself ISO speed is something that you cannot change easily from picture to picture, but it is no problem if you use a digital camera.

(Praktica BMS, Prakticar 50mm 1:1.8, Fuji Neopan 100 Acros, ISO 100/21°)The film was an ISO 100 and I estimated EV11 for this one. I set shutter speed at 1/125 to minimize camera shake and that left me with an f/4 aperture.
I find it very useful to learn the most usual ranges of aperture and shutter speed scales by heart ^(*), because cameras (especially the older ones) do not always stick to the standard EV stops, especially on technically challenging matters like maximum aperture or maximum shutter speed.

(Hapo 66-E, Kodak Tri-X 400, EI 800/30°)I was shooting this film at an exposure index of 800 (like an ISO 800). My exposure value estimation was EV7. I set the aperture to the maximum the Hapo can go, f/3.5, for which I needed 1/50 on the shutter speed.
I admit that it might look difficult at first, but it is true that with a little practice you will be estimating exposures in no time. This way you can avoid having to rely on light meters, which have many problems and pitfalls of their own. Of course there is the danger of estimating EV wrong in the first place, but with time and practice one gets better and better ^(**). I often discover myself thinking about the EV of scenes that I see around me in the bus, in the street, in a restaurant, ... and even though I do not take a picture, determining which ISO, shutter and aperture would I use.

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 50, ISO 50/18°)I shot this one at EV12 since the sky was covered with clouds. Since the film was an ISO 50 (not really the best choice for that day, by the way!), I needed to go up to f/3.5 to achieve a relatively shake-free 1/100 shutter speed.
I am convinced that meterless exposure is a very healthy exercise to train your eye for the light which is, indeed, what every photographer should aspire to.

^(*) These are the agreed standards for shutter speed and aperture/f-number. Each step to the left represents +1 EV and each step to the right represents -1 EV.

shutter speed 1s 1/2 1/4 1/8 1/15 1/30 1/60 1/125 1/250 1/500
f-number 1.4 2 2.8 4 5.6 8 11 16 22 32

^(**) the exposure latitude of the different types of film or sensors that you use, that means how "forgiving" it is, can also help when you make such mistakes. Color slide film is the least tolerant one, exposure has to be estimated quite precisely (maximum 1-2 EV error).

A photographic story - #2 Awakening

2011-05-19T19:14:00.001+02:00

In summer 2002 Mar and I spent a week in Azaila, Teruel, to stay in an old house that belonged to some relatives of hers. For that trip we borrowed my sister-in-law's film single-lens reflex camera, which she calls by the nickname Eduvigis.

(EOS 350D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 2.5s, f/11, ISO 100)
Eduvigis is also known as Canon EOS 3000N and sports a 28-80mm zoom lens. This was the first time I used a zoom lens and I remember being fascinated by the "live" change of framing you could actually see through the viewfinder as you turned the zoom ring on the lens. But what I found the most fascinating of all was the autofocus: I remember playing and playing with the camera, pressing the shutter button halfway and marveling at the speed with which the subjects got sharp, with a double beep that, in fact, is still there in Canon's modern dSLR cameras.

I remember taking pictures of Mar while visiting the ruins of an Iberian settlement and marveling at the way the infinite landscapes in northern Teruel got blurred. I remember the uneasy silence filling the abandoned streets of Belchite Viejo and not really knowing how to take pictures there. To transmit the deserted look of the ruins, broken by the bombs of the Spanish Civil War, required much more "photographic eye" than I had back then.

Anyway, and in spite of using full automatic exposure mode all the time, the pictures came out really nice and we loved them. In fact, two portraits of us, taken with Eduvigis in that vacation, are framed in our bedroom since then.

16:9 bus stop [stranger 9/99]

2011-05-18T20:19:00.001+02:00

(EOS 40D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/640, f/11, ISO 400)
My ninth stranger was eating an apple as she waited at the bus stop.

Efke 25 - the vintage film experience

2011-05-15T13:49:00.003+02:00

When you commit yourself to using vintage cameras you are unsuspectingly plugging into a long-running tradition of ingenious camera makers, clever film designers and, in general, brave pioneers of every type, spanning more than a century to the past.

(Flexaret VI, Efke 25, EI 25/15°)
I live in a city where getting film is unfortunately limited to the biggest brands (Kodak, Fuji, Ilford) and at a price that is not really competitive. Last time we spent a weekend in Vienna, I browsed through Blende7's online film catalog to see which films was I going to buy. One of the exotic film brands that immediately catched my attention was Efke, manufactured by Fotokemika in Samobor, Croatia, featuring a very sober gray and green design. I bought a spool of Efke 25 roll film.

(Flexaret VI, Efke 25, EI 25/15°)
I then learned that I had got quite a special film, because Efke is one of the few manufacturers that produce film using the old ADOX formulas, a legendary film design introduced in the 1950s by the Adox Fotowerke Dr. C. Schleussner GmbH in Germany. The ADOX formula has much higher silver content than modern black and white films, resulting in very high quality reproduction of grays and almost no visible film grain. The film base is very thin and highly transparent, which eases inspection and scanning of the negatives.

(Flexaret VI, Efke 25, EI 25/15°)
Of course ISO 25 was somewhat of a challenge as well, because we are entering a low-sensitivity region that is absolute terra incognita for the digital photographer, where most cameras have ISO 100 as lower end. ISO 25 means a typical scene in direct bright sunlight should be taken at 1/25s with f/16, or 1/100s with f/8. A more challenging photographic subject, like a portrait in a heavy overcast day would require 1/10s with f/5.6. A tripod, a support or a very steady hand are almost indispensable.

(Flexaret VI, Efke 25, EI 25/15°)
Last March we went for a hike with friends. The excursion took us through a very beautiful path that crossed a marsh landscape. As the sun was bright and high in the sky, I loaded my Efke 25 into the Flexaret. A while later some clouds gathered and started covering the sky from the east. At first I feared the light would not be enough for my low-sensitivity film (I did not have a tripod!), but afterwards, when looking at the developed negatives, I was really pleased with the rendition of the tones in the sky. The pictures came out with a difficult to describe and yet very real old-looking atmosphere, as though the pictures had been taken on the 60s. The Belar lens on the Flexaret certainly helps conveying this look, but I guess most of the merit comes from the film.

(Flexaret VI, Efke 25, EI 25/15°)
I will definitely be using more Efke film, and also the ones produced by Fotoimpex near Berlin, a small company that is using the ADOX formulas and the trademark since 2006. I really like the feeling that I get when using it, for me very similar to the reverence with which we would take a very old and very valuable book in our hands.

Pictures taken on Efke 25 in my flickr photostream

Sudoku [stranger 8/99]

2011-05-10T19:46:00.001+02:00

(EOS 350D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 1/25, f/4.5, ISO 100)
My eighth stranger was playing sudoku while waiting for the boarding call for her flight.

From the hip

2011-05-08T11:33:00.003+02:00

As I started with the 99 strangers challenge, one of the techniques that I wanted to try was photographing from the hip. You take your camera in your hand, leave your arm hanging along your body, so that the camera is somewhere at your hip level, and take pictures from there. There is of course no looking through the viewfinder.

FTH photography^(*) is a very challenging exercise, because there is a lot of randomness going on, and can be quite frustrating as well: be prepared to shoot more than 250 pictures and end up, with luck, getting 5 or 6 usable pictures. But, although luck is random in nature, it tends to be on the side of those that go looking for it and are prepared to embrace it.

I have made two FTH photo walks and I would like to share my experience and my thoughts with you. All pictures in this post have been taken from the hip.

(EOS 40D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/125, f/11, ISO 400)

Holding your camera

wrap the neck strap around your wrist in a way you feel comfortable letting go of your camera so that it hangs safely; you may need to roll the neck strap up to three times around your wrist (at least that worked for me!)
the camera feels more natural in a portrait (vertical) orientation, that's why most of the pictures in these sessions have portrait orientation
press the shutter very slightly, looking for the minimum pressure that would fire; this helps minimizing camera shake
try to keep your arm as still as possible when shooting, do not swing it too much when walking

(EOS 40D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/250, f/11, ISO 400)

Exposure

I prefer using aperture priority mode with a fairly high f-number, to ensure enough depth of field
use a moderately high ISO (400 or more, depending on lighting conditions) to ensure fast enough shutter speeds not to blur the shots: we want to achieve 1/250 or faster, to be on the safe side

(EOS 350D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/2000, f/11, ISO 400)

Focal length

I used a wide angle lens (24mm, meaning 38mm on my cropped sensors) because the angle of view allows shooting from a closer distance and gives a better chance of not missing your intended targets
wide angle lenses also tend to have huge depths of field, which is good for the next point

(EOS 350D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/400, f/11, ISO 400)

Focus

I used hyperfocal distance with a deep depth of field
I would not use autofocus, it is too risky: set your lens on manual focus and be aware of the limits of your depth of field and try to shoot only when you are sure that your subjects are within this range

(EOS 40D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/800, f/11, ISO 400)

Composition/Framing

this is the most difficult and frustrating point!
do some test shots first, to get the feeling of the slight wrist movements you can do and its effect on the direction your camera is pointing to
get close to your subjects, but be aware of your depth of field limits, or your hyperfocal distance!
in order to photograph walking subjects it is better to outwalk them and walk in front of them, as this leaves your hand in a relatively comfortable and natural-looking position and can provide an interesting frontal low-angle point of view

(EOS 40D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/250, f/11, ISO 400)

Attitude

maintain a surreptitious attitude, you don't want to be noticed
do not make eye contact with your subjects, especially as you are taking the picture
do not look at your camera after shooting, never ever check the display on your camera just after you took a picture, this will draw attention to your camera and will give yourself away as a photographer, and this is exactly what you do not want
act as a lost tourist
stand still at a busy corner, as if you were waiting to meet someone
ignore your camera at all times; act as if you were carrying a briefcase, not a camera
better go alone: you are going to be acting a little weird, stopping, walking faster, suddenly changing directions, and you want to blend into the background

(EOS 40D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/320, f/11, ISO 400)
FTH photography is not easy, but it can be very rewarding, and with patience and practice, you are going to get more and more good shots and you will definitely grow as a photographer. The technique should just be a means of achieving an artistic expression. FTH photography is quite challenging because of the technique, but do never forget about the art! :)

^(*) from-the-hip photography :)

From the other side of the curtain - Praktica BMS

2011-05-07T10:42:00.004+02:00

Last month we spent a week with our families in Tarragona and Barcelona. As this time I did not want to be carrying too much weight around, I decided to leave most of my photo gear at home. I left the Flexie and took only the Hapo for medium format. As for 35mm, I left the Retinette at home as well and asked my dad if I could borrow his last film camera for the week, a Pentacon Praktica BMS single-lens reflex. After using it for a couple of days, I was not able to resist the temptation and promptly accepted my dad's offer of keeping it, as he is not shooting film any more.

(EOS 350D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 1s, f/6.3, ISO 100)
The Praktica BMS was made by Pentacon in Dresden, Germany (then the German Democratic Republic) in the late 80s. It is a very sturdy, spartan camera that gets the job done. The loud and resolute sound of the focal plane shutter does not leave place for misunderstandings: the Praktica is a robust performer, made for a lifetime, that is able to take a fair amount of abuse without loosing its grip.

I am using two lenses: a Pentacon Prakticar 50mm f/1.8 normal lens and a Prakticar 28mm f/2.8 wide-angle lens with close-up (macro) capability. Both are manual focus lenses. There are no bells and whistles here: the only aid to the photographer that the Praktica has is a built-in light meter^(*), everything else is full manual. There is no automatic exposure program. The loveliest feature is a very ingenious lens and mirror system that displays the aperture currently set on the lens through the viewfinder. Purely optical, no need for complicated electronic communication between lens and camera body for that.

(EOS 350D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 3.2s, f/5.0, ISO 100)
What I love about using this camera is that the overall experience is very similar to using a digital SLR, which is where I come from, but the Praktica made me realize how little do you actually need in order to take a picture. Making a picture turns around the photographer, the camera and the subject. And with the Praktica, as with every full-manual operation camera, the photographer is the only one doing the thinking, and I like this feeling.

The Praktica BMS was produced between March 1989 and December 1990. I do not know when was it made, but I like to imagine that just in the moment my dad's camera was finished and packed, the workers at the VEB ^(**) Pentacon in Dresden stopped what they were doing and grouped around a radio that was giving a life news report that the borders to West Berlin were open and that the Wall was falling.

Pentacon Praktica BMS
My Praktica BMS flickr set

Maker	Pentacon
Model	Praktica BMS
Type	Single-lens Reflex
Lens #1	Pentacon Prakticar 50mm f/1.8
Lens #2	Prakticar 28mm f/2.8 macro
Shutter	4s - 1/1000 + B
Film type	35mm (135)
Year	Mar-1989 - Dec-1990
Country	East Germany

^(*) that, in fact, only works with the 28mm lens attached!
^(**) Volkseigener Betrieb, meaning people-owned enterprise, as state-owned companies were called in the communist German Democratic Republic.

On the bench [stranger 7/99]

2011-05-01T15:42:00.000+02:00

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Tri-X 400, EI 400/27°)
My seventh stranger was enjoying the winter sun on a park bench.

Low-angle shots for La Vuelta al Mundo

2011-04-30T23:05:00.000+02:00

In April La Vuelta al Mundo proposed pointing our cameras up. The topic for April has been “low-angle: looking up”.

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Ektachrome E100G, EI 100/21°)

(Hapo 66-E, Fujichrome Provia 400X, EI 400/27°)
The low angle is one of my favorite points of view: in fact, most of my pictures have been taken with a slight upwards slant of the camera. I find that the low angle, combined with a point of view close to the floor, convey a kind of majesty to the subject that I like very much. I guess this is one of the reasons why I like photographing with a TLR so much, because the camera remains at waist-level as the picture is taken.

(Diana Mini, Kodacolor 200, EI 200/22°)

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Ektachrome E100G, EI 100/21°)
For this assignment in La Vuelta al Mundo, though, I have been experimenting with the most extreme version of a low-angle shot: the nadir view, or inverse bird's eye view, which has the camera pointing upwards perpendicular to the floor.

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Ektachrome E100G, EI 100/21°)
The most difficult one was this nadir self portrait, because the framing, the composition and, in some way, the focusing, had to be almost random.

Hyperfocal shots

2011-04-19T20:58:00.000+02:00

Photography requires dealing with four variables at the same time. The amount of light (or exposure) is controlled by how long do we let light into the camera (shutter speed) and how wide is the hole used to do it (aperture or f-number). ISO speed (or film speed) controls how sensitive does the photosensitive element (sensor or film) respond to light. Focus (and its cousin depth of field) decide which parts of the picture are rendered sharp and which are not.

(Kodak Retinette IA, Fuji Neopan 400, EI 400/27°)
The photographer lives in this four-dimensional space and must find a point (that means, set values for each one of these variables) in order to make a photograph. Throughout the development of photographic cameras, clever systems have been devised to take care of these decisions automatically: shutter priority, aperture priority or full automatic exposure programs, automatic ISO setting, autofocus, ...

Nevertheless, focus remains a crucial aspect of photography because the photographer still has to decide what distance to focus to. Autofocus systems are only able to turn the focus ring very precisely real fast ^(*).

One way to forget about focus at once is to take advantage of an optical trick. For a given aperture, set focus to a distance that lets the far end of the depth of field on the infinity ^(**). This is the hyperfocal distance H corresponding to that aperture. Everything from H/2 to the infinity is in focus now.

(Kodak Retinette IA, Fuji Neopan 400, EI 400/27°)
The hyperfocal distance is very useful when I do street photography or when I take photographs from the chest, with the camera hanging from its neck strap, because I just need to mind about the near end of my depth of field. I try to estimate the distance to my subjects so that I take their picture when they are farther away.

Letting the hyperfocal trick take care of focus gives the photographer the ability to shoot really quickly, or the freedom to concentrate about other photographic aspects.

(EOS 40D, EF 24mm f/2.8, 1/400, f/11)
(for this shot I knew that everything between 0.8m and infinity was going to be sharp, so I was able to worry exclusively about the composition...)

^(*) At least it should be this way. I know that modern cameras can decide which one of the autofocus points to set focus on as well, but... what decision remains for the photographer, then? :-/

^(**) A depth of field scale on the lens comes in handy for this setting.

From the heart [stranger 6/99]

2011-04-13T19:13:00.003+02:00

(Kodak Retinette IA, Fuji Neopan 400, EI 400/27°)
This picture was taken straight from the heart.

I mean, I was walking around the streets, the Retinette on my chest hanging from the neck strap on its ever ready leather case, which is pretty worn-out by the way. I had already set the exposure for the dim light that we had in the morning (EV10, if I remember well, which meant probably 1/250@f/4 for my ISO 400 film). Then this old lady crossed my path and, without thinking, almost as a reflex, I aimed my camera at her without bringing it to the eye and pressed the shutter release with my thumb. I then totally forgot about it.

As I was checking the developed film afterwards I discovered this picture and I liked the angle and the somewhat random and casual feeling that it conveys. Though the lady was badly underexposed, I made a quite radical processing when digitizing the negative.

My sixth stranger had an umbrella because it had started raining just a minute before .

Suspicious look [stranger 5/99]

2011-04-05T20:26:00.000+02:00

(EOS 350D, Sigma 70-300mm f/4-5.6 APO DG, 214mm, 1/400, f/6.3)
My fifth stranger had a distrustful look. I got him with a telephoto lens, that I needed some time adapting to, because it had been so long since I last used it.

Twin-lens reflex - Meopta Flexaret VI

2011-04-03T20:43:00.002+02:00

Last summer I had the chance to visit the Helmut Newton Foundation in Berlin. I loved the awesome selection of his pictures and those of his life partner Alice Springs. As I was wandering around the exhibition, I was drawn to a showcase displaying some of the cameras that Newton used throughout his life. The most beautiful one, without a doubt, was the Rolleiflex, a twin-lens reflex made in Germany by Rollei.

A twin-lens reflex (TLR) camera has two lenses: the viewing lens for focusing, framing and composing the shot, and the taking lens for actually taking the picture. The standard TLR design has the viewing lens on top of the taking lens. The image projected by the viewing lens is reflected on a mirror and projected onto a ground glass that the photographer looks from above. This kind of device is called a waist-level finder because one does not need to bring the camera to eye level to take pictures.

(EOS 40D, EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 0.3s, f/3.5, ISO 100)
The Rolleiflex was kind of the Rolls Royce of photography from its introduction in 1929 well into the 70s. It was, on its heyday, the professional camera par excellence, kind of like today's top-of-the-line Canon or Nikon dSLRs. Rolleiflex cameras are still in production. A second hand Rolleiflex is still relatively expensive, especially the latest f/2.8 models or those sporting the finest lenses. Fortunately for vintage camera enthusiasts on a budget (like me!), lots of different clones of the Rolleiflex TLR design were made, using more or less of the original Rollei elements. Some of these clones aged very well and can be acquired today for much less money than a new plastic toy camera costs.

Ever since Berlin I've been fascinated by Newton's Rolleiflex and I wanted to give a TLR a try, to see if operating one is as sexy as it looks. Browsing through the online catalogue of one of the last second hand photo stores in Salzburg, I found a relatively low-priced camera under the entry "MEOPTA FLEXARET AUTOMAT with MEOPTA BRLST 1:3,5/80mm". A quick google image search confirmed that it was a TLR. The store owner, probably feeling sympathetic to the weird-looking foreigner asking about TLRs in broken German, sold me the Flexaret for still less than he actually asked for in the first place.

My first TLR is a Meopta Flexaret VI, produced between 1961 and 1967 by Meopta in Prerov, then Czechoslovakia. Both lenses are Meopta Belar (there was a funny typo on the online catalogue!) 80mm f/3.5, a four-element, Tessar-like design. The camera takes both medium format 120 film and 35mm, with the help of an adapter. In my case a 35mm take-up spool was missing, but I am more than happy using the camera with medium format film only. The shutter release is on the camera front and film advance is accomplished by turning a winding knob on the right side, which automatically cocks the shutter for the next shot. The Flexaret is reputed to be a very sturdy camera, which was used by many photojournalists in Czechoslovakia and the whole Eastern Block before the new SLRs took over the market.

Maybe the most unique feature about the Flexaret is its focusing lever: standard TLRs use a focusing knob on the side, but the Flexaret uses a double-headed lever below the taking lens that swivels from side to side. Once you've got used to it, it is very quick and very precise, because you can operate it with two fingers of the same hand you use for holding the camera. Another famous TLR, the Minolta Autocord, uses a similar system. In fact, the predecessor of the Autocord, the Minoltacord of 1953 was a nearly exact copy of Meopta's Flexaret III design of the late 1940s.

(EOS 40D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 1/60, f/1.8, ISO 400)
The most striking feature about the Flexaret, and in general about TLRs, is the way in which you take the photographs. To look down into the waist-level finder, with the big bright screen, allows a very conscious framing and composing, and you can achieve dead on focusing precision with the aid of a small pop-up magnifying glass. The image projected onto the screen is reversed left-to-right. Although this is really a disadvantage when trying to track moving objects (you know your target moves to your right, you have to move your camera to the right, but on the screen the target appears to be moving to the left, a real challenge for the brain-muscle coordination!), I realized that a reversed image actually allows for a very contemplative, relaxed and thoughtful photo making and I think it actually makes you a better photographer.

(EOS 40D, EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 10s, f/9, ISO 100)
The reversed image puts some distance between the reality you see and the reflected, reversed reality that you see through the camera, and this distance is enough to avoid the casual snapshot and forces you to really think about how are you going to make this photograph. I've read that a similar effect happens when using a large format view camera, where the image is inverted both upside-down and left-to-right.

(Photo taken by light thru my lens)
I have already taken 9 rolls of film with my Flexie and I am really happy with the results so far. It is a very special feeling when you open the lid, look down onto the reversed image and imagine how it would look like as a photograph. The vintage camera feeling is double with the Flexie, because the non-standard operation and the strange looks of the camera (at least for people under 40!) makes you stand out from the crowd whenever you take it in your hands. I can say that, as of today, the Flexaret VI is, without a doubt, my favorite camera.

Meopta Flexaret VI
My Flexaret VI flickr set

Maker	Meopta
Model	Flexaret Automat VI
Type	Twin-lens Reflex
Lens	Meopta Belar 80mm f/3.5
Shutter	Metax 1 - 1/400 + B
Film type	medium format (120), 6x6
Year	1961-67
Country	Czechoslovakia

Street photography

2011-03-30T22:43:00.000+02:00

(Flexaret VI, Kodak T-MAX 100, EI 100/22°)
This picture is the reason why I decided taking a new challenge: doing more street photography.

We humans are social, gregarious beings. As such we have tended to be in small groups since the beginning of our long evolutionary journey as a distinct species. At first these groups were pretty small, but as we progressed and invented agriculture, the first surplus food was available and trade was born. We then realized that trade works better if the number of people in a group is increased: this marks the rise of cities.

But we still are social and we still look for our primeval small group and, living in a city, we need the interaction with others in order to live our lives. And, of course, the center of this human interaction is the street. People go shopping, meet with friends and family, go for a walk, go to eat, go to the market, or just wander around with no definite goal. All these happen in the street.

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Tri-X 400, EI 400/27°)
My challenge is to take a camera out to the street and try and make street photography, photos that convey this wandering, this pulsating life that you can find in the streets.

(Retinette IA, Fuji Neopan 400, EI 400/27°)
Pictures in which the photographer loses all the prominence, pictures of the everyday life, of the everyday hustle and bustle of the city.

Photos I didn't make - the old lady

2011-03-27T21:40:00.002+02:00

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Tri-X 400, EI 400/27°)
There was this old lady sitting on a bench at a park close to the library. She wore a fur hat and had her purse and her watch by her side on the bench. She looked at the watch every now and then.

She was clearly enjoying the wonderful late afternoon sun which, most probably without her knowing, was also bathing her with the most sublime of lights, warm and crisp. The sun stood at a low angle over the horizon, illuminating her from the left side.

I sat on the bench by her side and stayed there for a while, trying to muster up the courage to ask her to take her photograph. I repeated to myself the exact words I was going to use, trying several introductory lines.

After ten minutes struggling with myself, unable to overcome my shyness, I admitted my defeat and stood up. I smiled at her and murmured “Auf Wiedersehen”. And it was then, in the way she looked up and smiled back at me, it was in the expression of her clear blue eyes, that I knew she would have probably said yes. But it was too late.

Out of frustration, I made a picture of the library building.

Alfi Diarähmchen

2011-03-26T20:45:00.004+01:00

(EOS 350D, EX DG 50mm f/2.8 macro, 1/50, f/2.8, ISO 100)
If you use vintage cameras you will probably end up using vintage accessories as well.

With my first medium format slide film I ordered slide frames. I guess my lab got stuck with a considerable stock of medium format slide frames back in the 90s, as digital photography began to take the lead. That's the only reason that I come up with for getting a product "Made in Western Germany", as the bottom of the box reads.

Tabletop [stranger 4/99]

2011-03-22T22:21:00.000+01:00

(Flexaret VI, Kodak Tri-X 400, EI 400/27°)
My fourth stranger was laughing, probably unaware of the fact that the sun, reflected on the library annex building, cast shadows on the wall and on his seat. My camera got him from the tabletop.

Tabletop photography

2011-03-21T19:23:00.001+01:00

One of my (photographic) pastimes these days is what I call tabletop photography. Here's how it works.

You sit in a bar or a café and, tired of carrying your camera around, you let it rest casually on the table. You look around, looking for a suitable scene or subject --for sure there is something interesting going on!

(Kodak Retinette IA, Kodak Farbwelt 200 (expired 2008), ISO 200/24°)
You set exposure and focus distance and aim your camera to the scene trying to figure a beautiful composition. Looking through the viewfinder is not always easy, you have to be prepared for a certain random component.

Most important of all, you set the self-timer at the maximum setting and then shoot! You look distracted, ...bzzzzz...., take a sip of your tea or coffee, ...bzzzzz...., look somewhere else, ...bzzzzz...., do something else until you hear a ...click!

(Flexaret VI, Fujicolor Pro 160C, ISO 160/23°)
As the picture has been already taken, you ignore your camera for a while, acting cool. If you enjoyed it, start looking around for another interesting subject. Then, prepare for the next tabletop shot...

Caution!, tabletop photography can be very addictive! ;)

A crane flies to Japan

2011-03-20T12:53:00.002+01:00

(EOS 350D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 1/125, f/2.2, ISO 100)

This origami crane is ready to fly to Japan, to join a huge flock that's already on its way, to try and bring hope and comfort to all those who are suffering the consequences of the earthquake that struck the island on March 11th. The whole week I've had these people very present in my thoughts.

It is especially moving for us hobby photographers, because most of the stuff we use for our passion (cameras, lenses, films, ...) has been produced, designed, conceived or dreamed of in Japan. I wish for the best as my crane flaps her wings and takes off...

Push processing

2011-03-19T18:23:00.002+01:00

(Hapo 66-E, Ilford Delta 3200, EI 1600/33°)

One of the things photographers and enthusiasts have to worry about is ISO speed, which together with aperture and shutter speed, is one of the three variables that control exposure. In digital cameras, the ISO rating is adjustable from shot to shot, and determines how sensitive to light the sensor is. In a film camera, the ISO speed is a property of the film, not a camera setting. That's why it is properly called film speed.

If you have a digital camera and want to take a shot in low light, one of the possibilities you have is to choose a high ISO speed, in order to make you sensor more sensitive to light. This way, you might be able to achieve a shutter speed fast enough to shoot hand held. With a film camera, you choose a fast film. Since there ain't no such thing as a free lunch, though, high ISO comes at a price: noise with digital cameras, grain with film. It is a matter of taste and depends on the picture but, in general, grain does not bother me that much. Digital noise is another matter, though. I guess grain, especially on black and white film, has a kind of journalistic quality about it that makes it look familiar.

If your film is not fast enough, you always have the option of push processing it. This is easily understood with an example: I am shooting a film with a nominal ISO speed of, say, 100. But I expose it as if it were an ISO 400. This is called film rating, I rate my film to be ISO 400 (in fact, you cannot talk about ISO any more, but of exposure index, EI). I am getting a consistent underexposure on all my shots (they would be all too dark). But, since I know that, I let it develop (and here comes the push processing) for a longer time than a normal ISO 100 film would require.

This picture comes from the first film roll that I let push process. It is taken on Ilford Delta 3200, which despite the name is an ISO 1000 film, but I rated it at EI 1600. I let my photographic lab push process it, but I am not that happy with the results, which came out a little too dull. I guess I would be happier having the whole thing under control, or at least I would have much more fun...

I am beginning to consider facing the ultimate challenge: black and white film development at home.

Cinematic photography [stranger 3/99]

2011-03-15T21:09:00.000+01:00

(EOS 350D, Sigma 70-300mm f/4-5.6 APO DG, 108mm, 1/400, f/7.1)

I like cinema very much, especially because of the very powerful visual language that is involved and that plays an essential role in conveying a message. Inspired by my own prison's excellent shots on flickr, I decided to take a new challenge: to make more cinematic shots.

Now, it is not easy to define what a cinematic shot really is, there seems to be a broad spectrum of opinions about it. For me, a cinematic shot is simply a shot that could have been taken out from a movie, a shot that makes you wonder how the story would go on.

I tried to give the picture of my third stranger a cinematic look. I am not quite sure about how the 21:9 aspect ratio changes the composition, but it is my first try after all.

A photographic story - #1 Prehistory

2011-03-14T19:33:00.002+01:00

[EDITED on May 2nd to add a picture of my dad's camera]

My first real recollection of myself using a camera goes back to 1988, as I was 12 years old. I went to Mallorca on vacation with my school class for a week. My dad let me have his camera, which had always fascinated me and had not been allowed to even touch unsupervised until then. I remember feeling a little afraid of breaking it but, at the same time, quite proud of myself.

The camera was a Yashica Minister D rangefinder, sporting a Yashinon 45mm f/2.8 lens. The Minister D was a very beautiful camera, kind of professional looking in my eyes. I felt a little weird because all my classmates had point&shoot cameras that didn't need any focusing, metering or, in fact, any user operation other than the pressing of the shutter button. I remember being ashamed of taking the camera out in front of the others, because it was quite sure someone would say something to me or laugh at me for, you know, being different.

(EOS 350D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 1/40, f/2.2, ISO 400)
I received a photography crash course from my dad. I don't remember the part about aperture at all, I guess it was something like "set f/8 and do not change it". What I do remember quite well was my dad telling me about shutter speed and how I should normally use 1/125 except for freezing a moving subject, where I could go up to 1/250. This one got stuck in my mind.

We were attending a show at a marine park and I remember thinking as a photographer for the first time in my life: if I wanted to freeze the movement of the dolphins jumping out of the water, I should set shutter speed to 1/250. I think I set it even to 1/500, but I am not quite sure. What I do remember was how proud of my "photographic thinking" I was back at home, as we got the prints and there was this one picture of three dolphins jumping in my direction, perfectly frozen in the air thanks to my remembering my dad's photo teachings.

Saturn power service [stranger 2/99]

2011-03-10T08:12:00.000+01:00

(Flexaret VI, Ilford HP5 Plus 400, EI 400/27°)

I found my second stranger at the flea market by the Naschmarkt in Vienna.

About using vintage cameras - Kodak Retinette IA

2011-03-08T23:38:00.005+01:00

In January 2002 Mar and I spent a weekend in Paris for the first time. We were together for only five months then and I keep very dear memories from that trip.

One of these memories is the camera that Mar had with her. Her mom let her take the camera she had been using since she was young, a Kodak Retinette IA. I remember being fascinated by its old looks and the odd film advance lever on the bottom side. But, most of all, I remember the challenge of having to estimate your focusing distance and also how nice did the black&white pictures that we took come out.

Years after that, as we had already discovered our passion for photography, Mar's mom let us take the Retinette. We had it checked by a camera repairman, the last one still active in Salzburg. Even before we got the camera back, I was eager to start using it again. This was my first serious experimenting with film photography.

The Kodak Retinette IA is a viewfinder camera. That means that there is a viewfinder that allows to frame more or less what the lens will see.

(Nikon Coolpix S200, 6.3mm, 0.3s, f/3.1, ISO 100)
"More or less" because you are not actually looking through the lens, as it happens with a reflex camera, so there is a small perspective difference, called parallax, which is especially noticeable when looking at close subjects. In fact, the Retinette has quite nice parallax correction aids, but there is no way of seeing what is in focus. The focusing is done by estimating the distance to your subject and setting this estimated distance on the focusing ring. In fact, the whole lens turns as it is focused. There are some quite whimsical graphic aids for the distance ranges corresponding to portrait, group photo and landscape.

(EOS 40D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 4s, f/8.0, ISO 100)
The lens is a Schneider Kreuznach Reomar 45mm f/2.8. The focal length (45mm) is very close to the diagonal of a frame (24x36mm means an approximate diagonal of 43mm), which makes it a normal lens. After taking a picture, film advance is accomplished by pulling a lever in the bottom with your right thumb. This same lever automatically cocks the shutter for the next shot.

What I love about the Retinette is its simplicity, compared to our previous cameras. You just need to worry about shutter speed, aperture and focus. Film speed has to be decided only once, as you choose which film to load. All the remaining energy can be effectively used to try to make great pictures. That means composing, excluding, simplifying, ... instead of fumbling with exposure metering modes and back focusing issues.

When using the Retinette for the first time after we had it serviced it was a wonderful surprise to see how incredibly smooth everything worked. I wonder if any of our modern cameras will be in such great shape in 40 years...

There is something that I feel, very difficult to describe but still very real, when I operate a vintage photographic camera. It is a mix of reverence, as this device was already in the world before I was born, and kind of a comforting feeling, because in spite of its age, it still works perfectly. You know you have a piece of fine craftsmanship in your hands, whose designers are most probably already dead, but I like to think that they would smile if they could see me. In a similar way some people, especially the elderly, smile at me when they see the Retinette in my hands, probably having happy memories of a time long gone.

Kodak Retinette IA (camera-wiki.org)
My Retinette IA flickr set

Maker	Kodak (Stuttgart)
Model	Retinette IA, Typ 044
Type	Viewfinder
Lens	Schneider-Kreuznach Reomar 45mm f/2.8
Shutter	Prontor 250S 1/30 - 1/250 + B
Film type	35mm (135)
Year	1963-66
Country	West Germany

Film

2011-03-06T14:24:00.006+01:00

NOTE: This post appeared originally on my other blog, Die Murmeltierjahre im Land des Frühschoppens, on 29th November 2010. Since this post contains the seed (“I think that artistic creativity needs new challenges permanently, in order not to fall into routine and boredom”) that made me decide starting this blog, a (photo) challenge a day ..., I thought it was fitting to publish it here, with some minor adaptations.

“Digital macht alles kaputt!”

The old lady complained from the other side of the counter, with the mixture of sadness and anger of the one who knows the enemy is so big that the only reasonable thing to do is to step out and wait for the end.

The place, Foto Bahnhof, close to the train station, is one of the last photography stores in Salzburg. After she told me that they did not have what I was looking for any more, I asked her if she knew about other photo stores in the city where I could find it. She shook her head and started listing stores that do not any longer exist. The last one she mentioned, Foto Mayrhofer, close to the Schranne, closed just a couple of months ago, after its owner went into retirement. It struck me that I was in front of one of the last members of an almost extinguished species. Her clear blue eyes darkened for a moment, as she realized that I had understood the bitter consequence of the syllogism she did not fully state.

The advent of digital photography, that reached the general public in the 90s, meant the last push to the democratization of photography. During the 20th century, photography evolved to come closer and closer to the point & shoot ideal, fine-tuning automatic processes in such a way that the only actions left to the user were framing and shooting.

The advantages of a digital camera can be summed up in three: immediacy, low cost and storing and compression. Immediacy on review, because the picture appears on a more or less big screen, with more or less colours, instants after shooting. Low cost of operation because shutter opening and closing has a total cost that tends very quickly to zero. Compression because, thanks to clever algorithms, the optical data captured by the sensor needs a tiny fraction of the total storage capacity of the device, which results in a great autonomy of operation.

(Diana Mini, Kodacolor 200, EI 200/24°)
Technological innovation has countless positive aspects, but its ruthless logic leaves old and sometimes venerable technologies on the side as road kill, because they make no sense any more or, simply, because they are not profitable. Digital photography sensors pushed film cameras to the background, making them museum display items or, sadly, mere pieces of junk that one does not know what to do with.

(Diana Mini, Ilford HP5 Plus 400, EI 400/27°)
But not all technologies are equal and when a technology, as it is the case with photography, is used as a support for artistic expression, I think that it is healthy to make a conscious effort and renounce to the multiple automatisms and advantages from time to time, because creativity and inventiveness usually work better when the first difficulties to overcome are technical limitations. I think that artistic creativity needs new challenges permanently, in order not to fall into routine and boredom.

(Kodak Retinette IA, Fujicolor C36, EI 200/24°)
I have worked you through this long introduction just to talk about the new territory that I am beginning to explore, pretty blindfolded at first, but with great hope and motivation. One of the photographic treasures that we brought from New York last year was Marona's new toy camera, a Diana Mini, from Lomography, that uses 35mm film.

(EOS 350D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 1/250, f/6.3, ISO 100)
The second photographic treasure, this time from Barcelona, is an old camera that we borrowed from Marona's mum, a Kodak Retinette IA that, after its serial number, was made between 1963 and 1966 and that we let repair and adjust. In spite of the almost 50 years passed since its production, the camera works with a smoothness that a lot of present-day cameras can only wish for.

(EOS 40D, EF 50mm f/1.8, 4s, f/8.0, ISO 100)
The Retinette makes you really think: from distance to your subject, which you need to guess and adjust without any confirmation chance, to exposure, for which you have to make use of rules of thumb or the photographic eye that began evolving as we decided to measure exposure manually with our digital cameras as well.

(this lovely picture of me was taken by Marona!)
It is nothing more than another step in my going back to the origins, back to the basics, that I already talked about in a photographic context. I love this feeling of going back to the origin, because I feel like I am doing real photography.

Is it maybe vanity? Is it just that I want to stand out from the crowd? I don't know... But I guess the reason I went to Foto Bahnhof, to ask for advice about second hand twin-lens reflex cameras, gives a hint that what I really like is when people look at me as if I were crazy, as I take out venerable cameras (with no screen on the back!) from their old leather cases and I start taking pictures with them.

The 99 strangers challenge [stranger 1/99]

2011-03-03T18:59:00.000+01:00

(Flexaret VI, Ilford HP5 Plus 400, EI 400/27°)

The idea is very simple: take 99 pictures of 99 strangers.

This is the challenge that I chose to present first in my blog. One of the other challenges I am starting to face these days, shooting more street photography, has much in common with my friend A's new idea for a flickr group, 99 strangers, so she kindly invited me to share the group administration with her.

One first approach is to take candid shots, where your ~~victims~~models are not supposed to notice you taking their photograph. On my way to the 99th stranger I will try to bring the challenge to another level, though. I plan on approaching strangers on the street, tell them about the project and ask them if I can take their pictures. This is more the spirit of the original 100 strangers flickr group. I hope that this will help me explore and learn ways to establish a communication between photographer and model, and maybe I manage getting a little bit rid of my shyness as well.

This is my first stranger, 1/99. On our way to Vienna this gentleman fell asleep right in front of me and my camera... I wasn't able to resist the temptation.

First post

2011-03-02T21:52:00.002+01:00

«Why a blog about photography?»

It all started with my other blogs, Die Murmeltierjahre im Land des Frühschoppens and its Spanish twin, Und komisch spricht das Murmeltier....

At first I wrote a little bit of this, a little bit of that, mainly about my life and my thoughts. Then I started writing about photography from time to time. First I tried to take pictures that would match my posts. Soon I started posting random pictures as well.

After a while I realized that I had lots to tell, but almost all was about photography, and I started not posting at all because I did not want to convert Die Murmeltierjahre im Land des Frühschoppens in a photography blog.

It was not until I understood that I was starting to use flickr as a platform to talk about photography in a way it was not meant to that I realized what I needed was to create a new blog, a blog about photography. And here it is.

(Flexaret VI, Fujichrome Velvia 100F, EI 100/21°)

I'd be glad if you would come along with me... :)

shutter speed	1s	1/2	1/4	1/8	1/15	1/30	1/60	1/125	1/250	1/500
f-number	1.4	2	2.8	4	5.6	8	11	16	22	32