Hydrangea and a milestone

We've a couple of Hydrangea shrubs in the garden and a few weeks ago their leaves were turning colour rather splendidly.  I ventured out with a tripod, a Hasselblad and a 150mm lens (I think) with a dark red filter on the front of it.  

Hydrangea leaves in autumn 2020.  HP5+ in ID-11, on MG Classic fibre paper.

The leaves themselves were turning dark red, hence the use of the filter which I knew would lighten things considerably.  It's a shame there's a gaping hole in the foliage lower left, which once you've seen it is very distracting. I didn't notice at the time as I was concentrating on getting the large centre arrangement in the middle of the shot.  Ah well, sure it's only 11 months until I can try again...

Oh yes, the milestone.  Well since this is the 31st December 2020 it marks 4 full years that I've been showing only scans of darkroom prints on this place.  Stopping scanning my negatives was the thing that really helped my darkroom work improve - as well as my ability to read a negative and make suitable adjustments to how I expose and subsequently develop the film.  The negative, of course, is the important bit in the process - screw that up and you're in for a hard time in the darkroom.  Scanning masks poor negatives, in my opinion.  Don't get me wrong, it's amazing what software can do with a poorly exposed/developed negative but that's of no help whatsoever when you take that negative into the darkroom and try to print from it.  Anyway, let's see what 2021 brings.  Have a good New Year everyone, wherever you are. 

Out for a run

Not me, obviously.

Looking out over Castlerock Beach.  Hasselblad, HP5+ on Ilford MG Classic Fibre paper.

The ship is heading to Derry by the look of it - probably with timber or maybe coal.  A fair few of us Irish still have coal fires - mostly using smokeless coal behind glass-fronted stoves nowadays but you still see older houses with open fires in use during the Winter.  And Autumn and Spring.  Sometimes even late summer - you know, those late August evenings when it can get a bit damp and chilly.  

It was the mid 70s before my parents had central heating installed - before that we relied on convector heaters to warm our bedrooms in the morning and a coal fire in the living room.  The fire took on something of a ritual - cleaning it, setting it, lighting it and fuelling it.  Fuel was proper big old lumps of coal and then what we called 'slack' was used to top the fire (slack being smaller, gravel-sized bits of combustible coal-like material).  Often the slack would get water poured on it to dampen the whole fire down, form a crust and make the coal last a bit longer.  There was a 'damper' just above the fire which could be manually pulled out or in to increase or decrease the draw/draught but when that didn't do the trick a sheet of newspaper would be held over the front of the fire.  This was, not surprisingly, just as dangerous as it sounds - if you weren't careful the newspaper caught fire and would have to be rather quickly removed and the fire extinguished.  At times there would be a tremendous drown-draught and an burst of soot and smoke would come down the chimney into the room.  It was a dirty old business, keeping an open fire going.  The cast iron stoves we have now are better in terms of fuel efficiency and little or no smoke or soot comes into the room but they still require regular cleaning.  To be honest we could easily not bother with them at all and rely on our oil-fired central heating but old habits die hard and having a proper fire in the room gives it a real homely feel, especially at this time of year what with the long dark nights and what have you.  We don't set them every night of the week - mostly just weekends and holiday times.  Plus we give them up on the 1st of May (or thereabouts) each year...and try to hold off until the 1st October (or thereabouts) until they get lit again.  That's the theory, anyway.

Bann Estuary

The Bann rises in the Mountains of Mourne in the South East of Northern Ireland and empties into the Atlantic Ocean at the western end of Portstewart Strand.  By this time it's a pretty big, wide river - this is what it looked like yesterday, less than a mile from the Atlantic.  A late night printing session in the darkroom was required, since today (Christmas Eve) and tomorrow are going to be a bit busy...

The Bann Estuary as it flows towards the Atlantic.  Inishowen Peninsula is in the background.  Via the Hasselblad and 150mm lens, HP5+ in ID-11 printed on Ilford MG Classic fibre paper.

Although this is a pretty stunning location within walking distance of where I live I rarely venture down there since to get this requires standing by a riverside restaurant/cafe.  It seemed to be all closed up yesterday but the owner came out to see what I was up to.  He was very pleasant but wanted me to park a little way down from where I was.  At least I think that's what he wanted - unfortunately my poor hearing means I'm unable to get more than a rather vague notion of what is being said to me.  It has made me shun conversation - particularly with someone I don't know and who isn't aware of my difficulties.  

This shot is looking West, maybe slightly North-West, I would say.  By the time summer comes the sun is setting directly over Inishowen in the centre of this photograph and what with our clouds we do get some spectacular sunsets.  But I leave the sunsets to the digi shooters since they seem to like all that colour and what have you.

Anyway, a very Merry Christmas to all my readers, wherever you are.  Stay safe.

Life, on a rock

I liked this rock - and the plants growing on it.  It's out Ballintoy way - that's Sheep Island in the background, Rathlin Island is lost in the mist somewhere beyond.  You get a sense of the tremendous forces which the rock has been subjected to over the years - all those layers and cracks.  I'm guessing it's limestone - most rocks here are either limestone (almost white) or basalt (almost black).  The plants have established themselves on the sheltered side of the rock and they seem to be doing OK, stretching their stems up above the parapet.

Life, on a rock, 2020. Ilford Delta 3200 in DD-X, on MGV paper. The scan has produced strange bands which aren't visible on the print - or certainly not as noticeable as appear here.  

Taken on the 'Blad and probably 150mm lens but I can't be 100% sure on that. I do know it was on Delta 3200 which I rather naively rated at box speed before developing in DD-X.  It's not something I'll be repeating, as the negatives were awful - very low in contrast.  Again, MGV came to the rescue.  From what I read, Delta 3200 is probably best rated around 1600.

School Runs

The 'old' bridge across the Bann, with the Clothworkers Building just behind.   The bridge was re-built as you see it here in 1843, replacing an older wooden one which dated from 1713, although there has been a bridge there on and off since the middle of the 13th Century.  In the 1970s a new bridge was built to the South which provides a more direct route for traffic going to and from Derry/Londonderry and Coleraine.  

Bridge across the Bann at Coleraine, 2020.  Nikon F2 and 85mm Nikkor lens.  Ilford HP5+/ID-11; lith print on Foma 133 paper.

I have driven (and been driven) over this bridge many thousands of times, as the secondary school I went to (and now Missy attends) lies on the West side of the Bann whereas we live on the East.  I will not miss that school run come summer of 2021, when Missy will finish school and continue her education elsewhere.  The one-way traffic system in Coleraine means a pretty lengthy (well, relatively speaking, that is) detour to get across the river for us and in the mornings it can be a bit slow due to the school run traffic.  Are there no school buses, I hear you ask?  Yes, there are, but it's a strange old system they have here.  For instance, those living within 3 miles of a school are not eligible for a free bus.  That was the same when I was going to school and my parents tried hard to convince the Education Board that we did, in fact, live more than 3 miles away.  We did, on the way to school (one-way system, remember?) but the way home is shorter and so the Board said No.  Not that I fancied walking down to the end of our road and then standing waiting for a bus in the middle of a downpour on a dark and cold December morning - either for me all those years ago or Missy now.  So I do what a lot of other parents do - suck it up and drive our little darlin' to school.  It makes little sense, I know, but we have no viable option.  Bicycle?  Perhaps, but you'd be mad to send your child to school on a bicycle given the state of our roads, weather, traffic and drivers...simply too dangerous.  Almost no-one cycles to school - and that's a pretty sad state of affairs. 

I complain, but Coleraine is really quite a small town (population about 50,000, perhaps double that in the immediate locality) and in reality there is little to moan about compared to life in a big city.  But it's what you're used to, isn't it?  I mean, you have to complain about something, right?

Photographer

Nicola is one of our Club Members and very talented she is, too.  About a year ago we had a rare Social Night in our one-and-only local bowling alley and had a lot of fun trying to hit those pins.  I had, if I remember correctly, the auto-everything Nikon N90 loaded with some decades-old Tri-X that was inside a bulk loader I was given.  It didn't come out great at all in ID-11 - horrible negs, very low in contrast.  

I was thinking about the new MGV paper that came out recently (well done Ilford for continuing to advance their paper emulsions in this day and age) and wondered how it might handle the situation.  It seems to print about a grade higher than the older MGIV so it might be worth a try, I thought.  This was the result, printed yesterday morning:

Nicola, Club Bowling Night 2019

It won't win any awards but given the negative I was surprised anything came out of it at all.  

The Club is having a trying year, obviously.  Everything is taking place over Zoom, which while less than ideal is at least allowing much more variety in our speakers, since they no longer have to be local.  I can see Zoom presentations being part of the new norm even when face-to-face meetings resume (whenever that might be).  Up to now I haven't joined in any Zoom calls since my experience of automatic speech recognition systems hasn't been very good.  Well, that plus the fact that all of our speakers are digital photographers and most of the talks are of no interest to me, since they (a) deal in colour and (b) rely heavily on post processing in software.  I know, I know, it's me. I need to get out more...

A Wedding

Not mine, you understand.  Just a wedding ceremony we happen'd upon the other week when were out for a walk.  The Daffodil Garden, as it's affectionally known in these parts, is a little gem hidden away in the Southern Extremities of the University Campus.   The same University I used to work in - and in fact, my office was none too far from the Daffodil Garden.  I say was, as the whole of South Building was obliterated from the face of the Earth not long after I left.  Rather sad, as it was the first building of the New University of Ulster in the late '60s...the place I went to my first gig (The Stranglers) and home to Mandela Hall.  I wonder how many Universities had a 'Mandela Hall'?  Quite a few, I suspect... 

Still, The Daffodil Garden remains, even if Mandela Hall doesn't.  To the amusement of the locals, one of the first PhDs awarded in the New University of Ulster was on the subject of daffodils.  I'm not sure what the townspeople were expecting - perhaps research into sub-atomic particles or such-like but what they got was daffodils.  But to their credit, 50 years later The Daffodil Garden has become a place of pride amongst Coleraine folk.  It is a rather lovely place to walk around - and a favourite stop-off point for wedding photographs.   It was a beautiful autumn afternoon when we took a stroll, so sadly there weren't too many of the yellow things on show.  The walk was marred only by the fact we had to pass the pop-up drop-in COVID Testing Centre which has set up in the University...but I'm not dwelling on that bit of misery.

They wheeled - or perhaps drove, I'm not sure - the old Mini into place and then a small wedding party appeared.  From where I was standing the shot was contra-jour and the light was really rather nice.  It was, as they say, a moment in time - a few seconds later yer man had jumped off the bench and the party disappeared to the next thing on their busy schedule.   

Wedding Photographs in the Daffodil Garden, 2020.  Printed on Ilford MGV with a delicate cupric sulphate bleach and light sepia tone.

You'll need to click on it to see what the folk are up to.  This was taken with the 50mm Canon LTM lens on the M6 and although I printed it almost full-frame I did think about the composition, believe it or not.  I wanted that strong tree on the right to hold it all in and I also wanted to show as much of the gardens as possible...and then this little group of people doing their thing in one part of it.  The photographer standing on the bench makes it, I think.  I don't quite know what the bride and groom are supposed to be doing but we all need a bit of mystery in our photographs, right?

Big Prints from Long Ago

In my last post I mentioned how even little old 35mm negs can be enlarged to quite decent sizes - I was reminded of a few prints from the late '70s that I came across recently in my mum's house.  I was pleasantly surprised that they were still in good shape, given that they were made about 42 years ago, give or take.  Granted they probably haven't seen much light since then but still, it shows that we must have been doing something right back in the day, The Brother and me - long before we knew about 2-bath fixes and 'archival' processing.  

Since we went to see a lot of bands back then it's no surprise that they featured heavily in our 'big print' series.  Round about 1978 Stiff Records did what they called a package tour and brought quite a few artists to Portrush to share the one night - Jona Lewie was one and Rachel Sweet was another.  For some reason, Ms Sweet caught my attention more than Mr Lewie - can't think why that would be the case for a 15 year old boy...

Rachel Sweet back in '78.  I placed the OM-1 on the print to show the scale.  The shot was taken on an OM-1, although not this particular camera.  Not sure what film - probably Ilford.  I'll update this when I find the negatives.

Andy Partridge from XTC

Last up we have the great Thin Lizzy - taken, I'm pretty sure, by The Brother in either the Ulster Hall or Antrim Forum.  Thin Lizzy were too big to come all the way to Portrush, alas. 

Phil Lynott centre stage, Brian Robertson (I think) on the left and Scott Gorham on the right.  Brian Downey on the drums, as always.

Flowerfield

For some reason I seem to be drawn to photographing this building in winter light (see here, for example).  I stopped by last Saturday morning when I was out with the 4x5 TiTAN pinhole camera.  I liked the way the trees were framing the house and that morning winter light was casting lovely spooky shadows on the front.

Flowerfield, home of Northern Ireland's first ever dedicated Arts Centre way back in 1980.  I remember our Photographic Club meeting there just before I left to go to Uni in that God-forsaken land known as England.  Sure all's well and good now I'm back in the homeland - even if half of England seem to have followed me here...  Fompan 200 rated at 50iso, tray developed in ID-11 1+2 (11 mins) on MGV, if you care about such things.

It got a bit of a crop from 4x5 in the darkroom, to 6x12 proportions.  I've always fancied a 6x12 camera but to be honest I've too many cameras as it is and I doubt one more is going to make me a better photographer.  So I'll stick to cropping from 4x5 or 6x6 when the want is there.  When I see those formats written here I'm thinking it's so misleading, as we're talking 4x5 inches versus 6x6 centimeters.  Not exactly helpful, is it?  The Europeans have a slightly different equivalent to 4x5 - namely 9x12 which is metric cm.  But, as I found to my cost when I was starting out in LF photography a few years ago, 9x12 is not the same as 4x5.  Yes, I found that out the hard way when my 4x5 film didn't fit snugly in my newly acquired 9x12 film holder.  

But back to discussing the relative sizes of 4x5 inches versus 6x6 centimetres versus 35mm.  Since two of those formats are metric lets roll with that.  So compared to 35mm (with frame size 36mm x 24mm), a frame of 6x6 film occupies roughly 3.6 times the area.  (I say roughly since not all 120 cameras produce negatives of exactly 6cm x 6xm - Hasselblad, for example, is closer to 5.6 x 5.6 but let's put that aside for the moment).  Anyway, I measured one of my 4x5 negatives and the actual frame size came out at 12.2cm x 9.5cm, about 3.6 times the area of a 120 Hasselblad negative.  

In conclusion - and I apologise for all the nerdy numbers here but that's the mathematician in me coming out - a frame of 4x5 film is roughly 3.6 times the area of a 120 negative which is roughly 3.6 times the area of a 35mm negative.  So a fairly uniform progression as you go from 35mm to 120 to 4x5.  Are we any the wiser after all that?  All I can say is that when you look at the three sizes in your hand, or in the darkroom, a 4x5 negative is HUGE and a 35mm negative is TINY.  And it's really amazing how much you can enlarge a good 35mm negative - I've 20"x16" prints made a very long time ago from 35mm negs which look absolutely great.