That's Pushing It!

This post is about push-processing, a technique that will be very familiar to most experienced photographers. However, I had never tried it before, so you will have to excuse my excitement. If you are in the "experienced" category and know all about push-processing, you may want to skip the rest of this article. If not, then read on.

Someday I really would like to combine my music and photography interests by photographing live performances around town. My preference would be to shoot at small intimate venues like clubs and to use black and white. I had the chance to do this recently when an up-and-coming country music trio from Nashville called Campbell Station came to play a show at Songbirds in Chattanooga. Songbirds is a guitar museum housed in an old railroad station that has been converted into a hotel and entertainment complex. Songbirds has a small performance venue amongst the hundreds of vintage and rare guitars on display, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to practice my photography skills, especially since one of the members of Campbell Station is a former music student of mine.

The problem shooting musical performances, of course, is low light, and unless you are using ultra fast film (like Kodak TMaxx 3200), you really only have one option is to push-process your film. (You could, of course, use a flash, but that will get you kicked out of most venues today.) I had never push-processed film before, so I was a little anxious about trying for the first time on such a good photo opportunity. However, after doing a little research, I found that it is really quite easy, and I went for it.

Push-processing is a two-step process that essentially causes your film to think it is faster (more sensitive to light) than it really is. The first step takes place when you shoot the film. Instead of setting the film speed on your camera to box speed (the speed indicated on the box), you set your camera to a higher film speed.  For example, I chose to use Kodak Tri-X 400 film, but instead of shooting it at 400, I shot it two stops faster at 1600,  allowing me to use a fast-enough shutter speed to get sharp images of the group.  Of course, by doing this I was underexposing the film by two stops. That is what makes step two necessary.

Step two is two extend the developing time when the film is processed. Kodak publishes developing information for their black and white films online, so I found the technical data sheet for Tri-X (http://imaging.kodakalaris.com/sites/prod/files/files/resources/f4017_TriX.pdf) and found that my developing time for 1600 (using D-76 1:1 at 68º) is 13 1/4 minutes instead of the usual 9 3/4 minutes. The other processing steps, stop bath and fixer), remain the same as usual.

Push-processing does have its costs, however. While you gain exposure latitude with push-processing, you also lose some image "quality." I put the word quality in quotes because the loss in image quality when using push-processing amounts to higher grain and contrast, and many photographers (including myself) like the increased amounts of grain and contrast in certain situations such as concert photography. I really like the way the Campbell Stations photos came out. I definitely will be using push-processing again in similar situations. It's great for me to know that I can use Tri-X 400 this way and count on getting images of which I am proud.

All of the photos below were shot with Uncle Jonesy's Minolta SR-T202 on Kodak Tri-X 400 pushed to 1600 and home processed.

The Return of an Old Favorite

Once upon a time I was a decidedly Minolta person. The first SLR I ever bought was a Minolta XG-1, which I purchased new from a camera store in Atlanta with part of my first-ever teacher paycheck. Soon afterward I added a SR-T201. I shot dozens and dozens of rolls of film with those two cameras before the XG-1 froze up one day. That's when I began dreaming of owning a Minolta X-700. It was the coolest-looking camera in the Minolta brochures that I collected meticulously. Popular Photography, of which I was a devoted subscriber.

And that grip . . . and it was all black. Being a Minolta user, it seemed to be the logical choice for my next camera. Because we had two young children and a lot of future memories to capture, my wife was onboard with the idea, and ordered a brand new X-700 from a camera store that advertised in

My excitement was off the charts when the package arrived and I unboxed my new X-700, and I put it to use right away. There were so many things about that camera that I liked. Because of the afore-mentioned grip, no camera before (or since) felt so right in my hands. I also loved the touch-sensitive shutter button that activated the meter the moment your finger made contact with it (the meter also would shut itself off a few seconds after you took your finger off the shutter button, thus saving battery life.) Being able to see aperture and meter-selected shutter speed information in the viewfinder was really nice as well. However, I never used the camera's most noted feature:  programed exposure. When you set the camera for "P" for program, it would choose an appropriate aperture and shutter speed for a correct exposure, turning the camera into a manual-focused point-and-shoot SLR. I stuck to the same aperture-prioity metering that my old XG-1 used.

My daughters, Megan and Amber, and the Georgia folk artist,
Howard Finster in the mid 1990's. Taken with the X-700.

Nevertheless, it was this camera that recorded so much of my family's history (mostly on slide film). And did I mention that it was black?!

And yet, I eventually sold it and bought a Nikon FE from my brother, Kelley (who by this time was a Nikon user). Even now, I'm completely sure why, but I have given in some thought during this eighteen-month old film resurgence that I am currently experiencing. I think it may have had to do with the way the camera worked in manual mode. When you select a shutter speed manually, the camera shows what it thinks the shutter speed should be (using LED lights), but it does not show you what shutter speed you selected. You have to bring the camera down from your eye and look at the shutter speed dial to see what you have selected. Why Minolta left this out when designing their "top-of-the-line" camera beats me, especially when metered manual is found on the Minolta X-570, a camera that lacks the program setting. Even though I was striving to become a more creative photographer, I was still quite dependent on a meter. In the viewfinder of a Nikon FE, you see all exposure choices, and the camera shows you it's shutter speed suggestion with a match needle. And let's face it. I couldn't help but wonder if my Minolta lenses were up to the quality that Nikon is known for. I made the switch.

Recently, my wife, Debbie, and I were in Seattle visiting my youngest daughter when Kelley called to tell me that he had come across a clean X-700 on sale somewhere for $10.00 and bought it for me.

Not only did his thoughtfulness touch my heart, but also I was genuinely excited about using am X-700 again. These days I am much less dependent on a meter (thank you, Rolleicord), so the manual issue doesn't mean as much as it did. And yes, nostalgia has a lot to do with it, too. When Kelley gave it to me, it was like getting back an old friend. And it still felt good in my hands.

It also makes good photographs, as it turns out. The 50mm 1.7 lens is tack sharp, even though it is missing the rubber grip on the focus ring. Although my photography has been limited by the demands of the new school year, the X-700 has become my favorite 35mm at the moment, and the two Nikon bodies that I own haven't been used in two months. Hmmm . . .

Currently, the X-700 has some expired Fuji Sensia slide film in it, and I am looking forward to using the E-6 developing kit I bought from the Film Photography Project store. When Ektachrome reappears later this year, I believe it might the X-700 that gets first crack at it.

Cloud Reflections on the Westin, Chattanooga. Kodak Gold 200, self processed.

The new Westin Hotel in Chattanooga now occupies the former headquarters
of Blue Cross Blue Shield of Tennessee. Kelley and I always called it
the "gold building" growing up. Kodak Gold 200, self processed.

Bike for rent in Chattanooga. Kodak Gold 200, home processed.

Pool Party Friends. Kodak Gold 200, home processed.

Kelley and Marcie. Kodak Gold 200, home processed.

Uncle Jonesy's Camera Podcast #2 is Here!

Kelley and I got together this week to record our second episode of the Uncle Jonesy's Cameras Podcast, and now the show is available for your listening pleasure. In this episode Kelley talks about why it is so important to know how to use your camera's self timer function and why you might want to carry a small tripod with you always.

A Minolta Trio

Kevin talks about three Minolta cameras that have been on his "want" list and how he actually acquired them in a very short time.

The Zenobia C

Next, Kelley has a camera for us that might be unfamiliar to most of you, the Zenobia C. Lastly, we reveal the name of the lucky listener who won a Minolta X-370.

The Zenobia C. Cool or Unclean? You decide!

And the lucky winner is . . . 

We're all about having fun with film photography at Uncle Jonesy's Cameras, and we hope that you enjoy this show.

You can find the show on iTunes, Google Play Music, and Spotify. We really hope that you will subscribe to the podcast so that you will not miss a single episode. And, if you would like to ask us a question or give us a tip, we would love to hear from you. All you have to do is email us at unclejonesyscameras@gmail.com. Also, we love iTunes comments! Please tell us what you think. Lastly, if you like the show, please spread the word about it. Kelley and I are quite passionate about sharing what we have learned about this great hobby, and you can help us spread the word. We thank you in advance!

Enjoy!

Uncle Jonesy's Cameras: The Podcast

Dear Readers,

First, thank you for reading. I appreciate that you take precious time to share in these adventures in film photography, and I hope that you get something out of the these articles that inspires you to have your own adventures and preserve them on film. In the very near future, my brother, Kelley, will be sharing the writing duties with me. I think you will really enjoy his perspective on film photography and gain from what he has learned. I know I will.

And now for the big news:  Kelley and I would like to announce the birth of a new film photography podcast called, appropriately enough, the Uncle Jonesy's Cameras Podcast. As of this writing, we have only one episode available, but new episodes will be posted soon. Our podcast can be found on iTunes, Spotify, and soon to be on Google Music. And if you are using a podcast catcher, you can access the podcast feed here.

We are aware of the explosion of film photography-related podcasts lately (we are fans of most if not all of them), so one might ask why should there be another one. Kelley and I hope to make our podcast very topic oriented. With our educator experience (Kelley is a former music teacher and I am one still) we are imaging our podcast to be like having a teacher handy to help our listeners to find their ways of film photography. We are not experts, and we make mistakes. But that's really the point. We want to share what we have learned from our successes and failures so that you can have more successes than failures. We also plan to devote some part of each episode to answering listener questions. You can send us your questions by email at unclejonesyscameras@gmail.com. You even can record a voice memo on your device and send it to us by email as well. We'd love to hear from you.

Please give us a listen, and if you like what you hear, please click or tap the Subscribe button so you won't miss an episode. And thanks is advance for listening!

One Camera One Lens Challenge

Dear Beloved Readers,

I want to begin this post with an apology (which is not the most positive way of starting this post, but it is quite necessary, as will be seen).

I haven't posted in over a month. My excuse? (Wait for it.) I am a public school teacher in northwest Georgia, and our summer ended on August 1. Now, I know that most of you do not get a two-month break in your job, but, on the other hand, MARTA bus drivers in Atlanta receive a hight hourly wage than most public school teachers, so there's that. Back to my excuse. The beginning of a school year is very time consuming, and I simply haven't been able to devote any time for blog writing until now. I want you to know that I value you readers more than you will ever know, and you deserve regular, if not high quality, content (actually, you deserve that, too). Hopefully, I will keep a better schedule now that the school year is underway.

Now back to our regularly scheduled blog post.

At the end of July my wife, Debbie, and I traveled by air to Seattle to visit our daughter, Amber, and her partner, Matthew. We had a wonderful and memorable time visiting these two very special people, and, of course, I planned to shoot some film while there. My original plan was to go the safe route by bringing my two Nikon bodies (an FE and an FM2n - one for B&W and one for color), a 28mm and a 105mm lens, and as much 35mm film as I could carry in my backpack, which was the only luggage I planned to take. I knew it would be heavy, but I was confident I could deal with it.

Then I read somewhere online (I wish I could remember where) of someone taking the "one camera one lens challenge," whereby one only packs one camera and one lens for a trip. I couldn't help but think about how much easier that would be for me, but I was really intrigued by the challenge of tying to meet all my photography goals with just one camera and one lens. And it didn't take me long to choose one camera and one lens. My Rolleicord Va.

Talk about challenge! A sixty year-old camera with a fixed focal length lens with no meter that takes more expensive film, a roll of which only yields twelve exposures. Was I crazy? Who knows when we will be able to visit Seattle again? Certainly not anytime soon. This was risky, and I was in.

Actually, it was quite fun. I enjoyed getting to know the Rolleicord, which, as a twin lens reflex camera, required a much different workflow than what I was used to with SLR's. I also liked being forced to evaluate light and exposure settings without a meter (I did occasionally use the Lightmeter app on my iPhone, but mostly I used "sunny 16.") And, I love the square format and the larger negatives.

As I moved about in Seattle, I could not help be think about Vivian Meier. If you have not heard about her, then do some research. I am an unabashed fan of her work (more about that in a future post).

However, using a camera similars to hers (she use several Rolleiflex models) was daunting. Certainly for me, the camera slows the photographic process way down. Judging the light, setting exposure, focusing (in reverse), and composing all must take place before pushing the shutter button. Yet, Vivian Meier was able to shoot more film in afternoon than many of us shoot in a month. And her results? Well, like I said, do some research.

Of course, my prime objective was to have fun and do the best I could to make some quality photographs. And I did. At least the fun part. The photos? I like them. That's all that matters to me.

All photos were home processed and scanned on an Epson V500 using the Epson software.

Photographed it and rode to the top. Kodak Ektar 100

The ferry ride to Bainbridge Island was great. Kodak Ektar 100

Double self portrait with Space Needle, Chihuly Garden and Glass. Kodak Portra 160.

Flowers outside our Foos River cabin. Kodak Portra 160.

Stacked rocks along Deception Creek. Kodak Tri-X 400.

Hotel, Skykomish, WA. Kodak Tri-X 400.

The Great Northern & Cascade Railway, Skykomish, WA. Kodak Tri-X 400

Totem Pole, Pioneer Square, Seattle, WA. Kodak Tri-X 400.