Mounting Photographs

One you might remember from a while back - the steps leading down to the little beach by the Portrush Arcadia:

Steps and shadows, 'Blad, HP5+, ID-11, lith, Foma paper.

The new thing is the mount.  Having done very little in this area until relatively recently I acquired a Dry Mount Press from one of the older members of our little Photographic Club who no longer used it.  These are extremely heavy things, fairly simple in operation - although the actual process takes a bit of fiddling about. Years ago these were all the rage but recently they've fallen a little out of favour with the 'Fine Art Photographers' as once the photograph is mounted onto the mount card, it's not un-mountable.  These days a lot of people working in this area seem to prefer using Photo Corners which allow the print to be easily taken out and put somewhere else should the need arise.  From what I read, the one advantage the dry-mount press still has over other methods of mounting (and it's a big advantage) is that it mounts your fibre prints flat - really flat, without wrinkles or curl.  Dry-mounted, they look good and for now I'm not too worried that a gallery or museum is going to reject my prints because they're dry-mounted :)

The 'bit of fiddling about' statement is a little economical with the truth, I should say.  There is a lot of preparation needed and a fair bit of investment in materials and time to get it right.  But this is a road I always wanted to go down, mostly for the reason that I'm in the darkroom twice a week, I print a lot and I like to put my prints on the wall.  And a well-mounted print really adds a certain something, I think.  I've had a couple of prints mounted professionally but it's an expensive process and not something I would be doing with the majority of my prints.  Being able to mount my prints at home has meant that I can mount as many prints as I want relatively cheaply - plus it's easy to experiment with different mounting strategies and with different colours of mount board.

So, the process is as follows - more or less.  Choose and cut your mount board to size, allowing for a a decent border and perhaps a slightly bigger border along the bottom edge. Take your dry, as-flat-as-you-can-get print, face down and place a similarly-sized (but slightly bigger all round) piece of dry-mount tissue on top.  Using a small heated iron tack one edge of the tissue to the print - a small piece of release paper stops the tissue from sticking to the iron.  Carefully turn the print&tissue and trim a little off each edge so that the mount tissue and the print are now precisely the same size. Now position the print&tissue on the mount board (easier said than done - since the mounting process is not reversible this step calls for patience and accuracy).  When happy, place a couple of weights on the edge of the print that is already tacked to the tissue to keep the whole thing in place.  Carefully lift the bottom edge of the print away from the tissue and this time tack the tissue to the mount board, again using a small iron and release paper.  At this stage we have one edge of the print attached to the mount tissue and at the opposite edge we have the mount tissue tacked to the board.  The print now sits in place on the mount board and this print-tissue-board sandwich can be placed carefully (between two larger pieces of mount board) in the pre-heated dry mount press for the required time - somewhere around 2 minutes should be enough.  When removed, it's best to place it under a piece of glass to cool for 10 minutes or so.  At the end of this process the print is permanently attached to the mount board. Time to breathe! And hope you got that positioning correct, eh?

I should perhaps add that to complement the Dry Mount Press I also invested some of my hard-earned cash in a mount cutter from Logan.  It's very easy to use - just needs a little bit of planning and then taking a bit of care during the actual cutting.  Like most things you can spend a little or a lot on mount cutters - the bigger ones allow you cut full sheets but the price rises exponentially.  I went for the 350-1, which seems to be a decent compromise.  It can't cut a full size sheet so when I'm buying the mount board I get the guy to make one cut, taking about 1/3 off the long side.  The first time I bought mount board I got a full-size sheet cut in half but there seemed to be a lot of wastage.  If I've done my maths correctly I should get more mounts out of a full board this way.   The mount cutter is a useful tool not only for cutting the mount board itself but also for cutting a window overmat, should you decide that's what you want.  That's what I've done for the print shown above and also here:

Mounted and framed

For now I like the overmat approach.  With the slightly wider bottom border it gives a little room for a title and signature to the print (that signature alone must surely add a few 00s to the value of the work, eh?).  This particular frame is not a thing of beauty, as you can see - it's as cheap-as-they-come from Ikea with the most horrible perspex rather than proper picture glass.  As you can see, the perspex is highly reflective - hence the ghost-like apparition of yours truly taking this phone snap :)  No, the idea is to standardise on perhaps half-a-dozen print sizes and get some decent frames made.  Then swap the mounted prints in and out as and when the fancy takes me.

The downside to doing the mounting yourself is that you need space - and lots of it.  A big, flat surface on which to measure and cut is essential.  And like having a darkroom, it helps if you can have a dedicated area to do this, so you don't have to tear down and set up every time you want to cut a mount.  Well, you won't be moving the dry mount press much, or at all, truth be told.  Did I say already, those things are heavy...

Large format fail

I finally got out and about with the Sinar on Saturday morning - something I'd been wanting to do for some time now.  I drove down to my favourite car park by the Herring Pond in Portstewart and just as I got there the heavens opened.  I sat in the car a while, which seemed like the thing to do as there were a few other cars there, mostly with older people sat in them reading newspapers.  Clearly that's the thing to do on a Saturday morning, then - and who can blame them with the view they have in front of them, of Binevenagh, Derry and Donegal.

About 15 minutes later the rain moved on so I was able to provide them all with additional entertainment while I set up the tripod and mounted the Sinar, bit by bit - monorail first, then rear standard, front standard with lens already mounted and then bellows. Check that everything is zeroed - both standards are at their detente positions and there’s no tilt or swing applied. Screw in the long remote release cable, remember to open the aperture on the lens (f/5.6 on the 210mm, roughly equivalent to 60mm in 35mm- speak), open the iris and then it's composition and focus time.  Rather than a darkcloth, which I never seemed to get on very well with, I use a binocular reflex viewer mounted on a bag bellows, which attaches to the back of the rear standard.  It's not great as the bag bellows sags a bit which makes it difficult to see the whole image properly.  Sinar make a metal viewer as well and I might invest a few £ in one, since I think it would make the whole experience a lot better.

Here's a phone snap to show the Sinar locked and loaded, dark slide in and ready to rock.  As you can see the sky cleared quite quickly to blue, with a few nice clouds to add a bit of interest:

Outdoors in good light the reversed, upside-down image on the ground glass is bright and focus (by moving the back standard forward and back using a damped wheel) is pretty easy. When happy with composition and when focus is more or less correct then the viewer can be removed and a loupe used for fine focus tuning. I use an old 50mm lens from a a Practica which when reversed makes an excellent loupe. I have a cardboard collar taped on the front so the ground glass doesn’t get damaged. Ok so we’re nearly ready to take the shot. It’s a straight landscape with little in the foreground of interest so need for any tilt. Ready at last to take a meter reading. An incident reading indicated 1/250 at f/5.6. I took a spot reading off the darkest object (the black rocks in the foreground) which suggested 1/250 at f/2.8 so closing down 2 stops placing the shadows on Zone III would seemed to confirm f/5.6 as a decent shout. I also took a spot reading off the white clouds and although I didn’t write it down it didn’t indicate that the highlights would be off the scale, so no need to reduce development times.

The next steps are then to set the aperture&shutter speed on the lens and remember to close the iris before inserting the film holder and removing the darkslide.  I think I closed down to about f/16 which gave 1/15 of a second, taking off one additional stop for the yellow filter I was using.  Finally it's time to breathe, wait for any wind to die down and the shutter can be opened via the cable release.  

If you're thinking "Blimey what a palaver" you'd be right - it's a different world from 35mm or even medium format.  Perhaps that's the attraction - it's a chance to slow down and actually think about each shot carefully.  It probably takes as long to read this post as it does to actually perform the actions described. 

OK time for the print and then a post-mortem as to why it's so yucky:

Portstewart Bay, tray processed 4x5 FP4+ in RO9, Adox MCC paper

In the past when I've developed sheet film I've used an old Unicolor paper drum on a motorised base.  The paper drum has the ridges along the inside which are necessary to allow the developer to reach both sides of the film.  But lately I've been reading about the virtues of tray processing so that's what I did this time around, using old 5x7 trays that don't see much action these days.  I actually took two shots, just opening up the aperture by a stop for the second one on the grounds that slight over-exposure is nearly always better than under-exposure.  The basic idea is to shuffle the sheets, bringing the one on the bottom to the top every minute or so.  A bit of a pre-soak in plain water is advised to stop the sheets sticking together.  The primary risk of tray processing is scratches, since the corners of sheet film are sharp and are likely to cause terminal damage to another negative if they accidentally touch.  Of course all the processing happens in complete darkness and with your hands in the developer it's sensible to wear nitrile gloves. I did use the Massive Dev Chart app on my phone for the timing but it has a green light option which as far as I am aware is film-safe, although it does suggest turning the screen brightness down to the minimum.  I kept the phone behind me all the time, just turning around to press the Start button once the sheets were in the developer.  9 minutes in RO9 (1:25) goes pretty quickly under these circumstances.  A short stop bath and then into the fixer for 5 minutes - the lights can come on after 2 minutes or so but I waited for 3 minutes just to err on the side of caution.

The negs looked OK - there was good detail in both the shadow area and the sky (although I chose not to show the detail in the foreground rocks in the print) and once they were dry and under the enlarger the probe told me that contrast was acceptable so I ran off the print you see above. 

Although the detail in the headland is impressive, as you would expect from a negative of such giant proportions, the problem of general yukkiness would appear to stem from uneven development, which is most apparent in the sky area.  I'm guessing that my tray processing skills need a bit of honing - almost definitely too much agitation, perhaps other things going on as well.  I'm off to read a little more about the whole tray processing thing before trying again.  I'll keep y'all posted on how that goes...

Landscape Mode

For some reason I seem to be operating in Landscape Mode these days.  Perhaps it's a case of "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em" (there are a lot of landscape photographers about this neck of the woods) but it may be more a result of my inability to walk about much at the minute, for reasons already mentioned.  So when I'm out, I'm usually in the car or not very far from it.  I don't really mind - variety is, after all, the spice of life, or so we are told.  It's quite relaxing to set up the tripod and think a little more carefully about composition and such matters. Heck I’ll be doing Still Life soon if I’m not careful (Confession: Still Life has always held a bit of a fascination for me - but I really don’t know where to start with it).

When I’m out&about I find myself worrying less and less about waiting for the optimal weather/lighting conditions when it come to taking a shot.  If I think about things too much I find that I don't take many (enough?) photographs - "The light could be better", "It's too bright/dull/wet/misty". So lately I've taken to shooting away no matter what and perhaps being a little more authentic (that word again) with regards to the prevailing conditions.  Trying to capture what is there at the time, rather than waiting for the 'perfect moment'.

On the day that this shot was taken it was a little misty and there was a lot of precipitation in the air (Yeh, I know - not uncommon for this part of the world). That’s why it looks like I’ve smeared petroleum jelly over the centre of my lens, in case you were wondering.I was down on my usual beach (Portstewart Strand), most likely with The Hound in tow. This is looking West over the length of the beach towards Castlerock. Mussenden Temple, which you might remember seeing a day or two ago from the other side, looking East, is just about visible on the headland if you click on the image:

Portstewart Strand on a slightly hazy morning, Adox MCC paper

As you can also see, there were a few hardy souls on the beach that day.  Mostly it's the dog-walkers who brave the elements no matter what.  As long as you've full wet-weather gear on you're generally OK - the temperatures rarely drop below freezing here, even in winter, although the wind-chill factor can make it uncomfortable at times if you're in an exposed place.

It's pretty much a straight print, this one - a very slight burn-in along the top half, that was all. On HP5+ film via the Hasselblad, on Adox MCC paper, which I know I’ve said before but I really do like it.

Portstewart Harbour

Portstewart Harbour, sea and sky for you today - fresh out of the darkroom on Saturday afternoon:

Portstewart Harbour on Adox MCC

It's from the 'Blad but as you can see I cropped it, this time to a 6x4,5 format.  I've been obsessing lately about formats and I've been trying - as much as possible - to print to the same ratio as the negative.  So for 35mm that would be 2:3, for 6x6 it's 1:1.  But sometimes the negative just doesn't work well in it's original format and this was one of those cases.  So as I say, I opted for a 6:4.5 crop.  I don't feel too bad since you can get a 6x4.5 back for the 'Blad so I can convince myself of a certain authenticity to it.  I priced an A16 back on the Auction Site and they go for somewhere in the £100-£200 range.  A bit steep when you can do like I did here and simply crop in the darkroom. A couple of hundred quid still buys a decent amount of film these days...

To be honest I wasn't sure if I'd have anything to write about this week since I've been laid up for a while on account of me legs.  Bed rest, elevated feet and all that melarky.  It looks like this will be the pattern for some time, until the medics get their act together and sort out those pesky veins of mine.  I'm back on my feet now but on 'light duties' only.  Among other things that means putting a strict limit on darkroom work, since I'm on my feet a lot when I'm printing. Ironically that’s one of the attractions of darkroom work for me - the fact that I’m not sat at a computer editing my images. Anyway, on Saturday last it was an hour and two prints and I was out.

Fly-fishing

This is a snapshot in more ways than one, I guess.  Besides the subject - my grandfather - there's the setting and for me, many good memories.  As you can see, Grandpa's got his thigh-length waders on and is standing in the shallows of the River Roe, which lies under the mountain of Binevenagh from which the last photograph was taken (here). And he’s using his fly rod, most likely with a fly he’s tied himself. And his jaw is relaxed, as it usually was :)

Grandpa fishing in the River Roe, c1977.  Printed 2019, Adox MCC paper.

This was pretty much how I spent most Saturdays up until the point I got my first job in the Photographic Department of a local chemist. Grandpa didn’t drive so relied upon a (much younger) relative (Arthur) to take him fishing in the fishing season and shooting in the shooting season. Arthur lived in Ballymena so was a good 40mins from us, and with another 30mins to The Roe do it was midday or after before the first cast was made. Grandpa was usually waiting from about 10am..."What does that man do?" was a constant refrain...as if ‘That man’ had nothing else to think about on his day off other than taking us fishing...

Each bend in the river had a different name - Boat Hole, Stone Hole, Reed Hole... In the ‘holes’ lived fish (salmon). Ideally. If they were ever in their holes at all, by the time I arrived on the scene it was the case that most times they stayed there, in spite of the myriad of flies, spinners and worms that were used to entice them out.  Those Holes were fished up and down all day, by the way - only stopping for sandwiches and tea when we sat anywhere that we fancied and contemplated on the world around us. 

Good times. As a teenager of course it wasn’t appreciated enough.  What I wouldn’t give to have a day up The Roe with Grandpa&Arthur now. But life don’t work like that. Thank goodness for an OM-1 and Ilford, though.

The North Coast

As you know, if you've been paying attention, I was up and out early-ish the other morning.  I ended up driving west towards the table-top mountain of Binevenagh.  There's a handy layby at the top, near the viewing point for Donegal/Inishown and I pulled in there and sat a while, wondering if it was worth venturing out.  There was only one other vehicle there - a makeshift camper van with the windows covered.  Occasionally you get 'free campers' who just park up anywhere for the night - they're not really supposed to do that and lots of car parks have signs to that effect but my guess is that at this time of year no-one is really going to either notice or care that much.  I hope they had heating as it would have been into negative temperatures that night, before the wind chill factor which would have been significant on this exposed headland. Anyway, I decided not to get out of the car, as it was quite misty and the light was just a bit too murky.   But just as I turned the car back towards home the sun decided to make an appearance. I pulled in at the side of the road and set up the tripod with the 'Blad and the 250mm Sonnar lens:

Early morning, looking from Binevenagh towards the Giant's Causeway

The little round tower in the foreground is Mussenden Temple, which is probably one of the most photographed buildings in Northern Ireland, perched as it is on the cliff edge.  I've posted shots of it before (here, for example).  The finger of land stretching out into the sea is Portrush and the headlands in the distance would be the Giant's Causeway and Benbane Head.

It took be a few attempts to get this one the way I wanted it.  Either the foreground was too dark or the sea&sky were.  In the end, I opted to get the foreground right under the enlarger and then burn-in the top 2/3 of the scene.  It needed a subtle hand and this was definitely one of the those times where regular printing helped.  When I'm out of practice I find it easy to be too heavy-handed and then the burn-in lines are all too evident on the print.  What I wanted was to pretty much recreate the scene as I saw it, with everything fading in to the distance in the soft morning light, the air still full of moisture.  I was happy with the end result.  On Ilford MG Classic Fibre paper and my usual HP5+ and ID-11 developer.

Trees at Mountsandel

I was out the other morning with the 'Blad and boy was it cold.  I suppose it's still early March, so we have to be thankful there isn't snow on the ground but that might come yet so I'll not say any more on the matter.

St Patrick's Day is coming up, in case your didn't know.  In Chicago, where The Brother lives, they turn the rivers green and have great aul' hooley.  Here in Ireland we don't do that.  No - we're all good-living God-fearing people here.  We got rid of the troublemakers a couple of centuries ago, y'see - to the "New World".  Hah!

If only, eh?  No - there is a grand celebration on the 17th March in Ireland and lots of people enjoy a pint (or two) of The Black Stuff (Guinness) early in the day (morning) and then try to make it through the next 12 hours without falling asleep on a park bench somewhere (usually no chance).  'Nuff said.

Anyway, this was one of the shots from t'other day:

Trees in Mountsandel by the River Bann, Coleraine.

The foreground foliage was reddish in colour so I stuck an orange filter on the front of the 250mm Sonnar on the Hasselblad.  The resulting print looked promising but I thought it would tone so I gave the second print a little more time under the enlarger - overprinting it by half a stop or so.  A short bleach in PotFerri followed by a dunk in thiourea and you have - more or less - what you see here.

Portstewart Bay, again

I don't think I'll ever tire of this view, to be honest.  That may or may not be bad news for you, poor reader.  But I can drive the car up here and unload the Hasselblad and tripod and whatever else I need and snap away to my heart's content.  These days, with the legs what they are, that's a bonus, believe me.  So here you go...again:

Portstewart Bay, towards Derry/Donegal.  HP5+ on the 'Blad.  Probably Adox MCC paper but I can't be sure.

As you are probably aware, every time I visit this place it looks different. On account of the light, of course - and the clouds.

Sometimes a print has to grow on you and this was one of those times.  This particular print has sat around for a week or two. The subtlety of the clouds finally got to me and I thought "Maybe this one's not too bad".