The Problem with Plastic

L-R) FPP Debonair 120, Holga 120N, Kodak 
Brownie Hawkeye Flash, and Windsor

Plastic has been in the news a lot lately. It's hard not to be disturbed by photographs of plastic-surfaced ocean water pollution that immediately cause me to think about just how much cheap plastic we use once and throw away, thinking that it will simply dematerialize into nonexistence rather than end up in a landfill or, worse, a place of beauty and pleasure.

In no way do I mean to make light of the serious problem described above, but I have a cheap plastic problem of a different sort, and it involves - you guessed it - cheap plastic cameras. Now, admittedly, owning only four cheap plastic cameras may not sound like much of a problem to those of you who own a closet full of them, but perhaps you should remember when you only had four (and look at how you are now, buried in a sea of plastic.) It was only a few months ago when I had none, so perhaps this is a good time for intervention before it is too late.

The problem is that, even though I own much more intricate, useful, and expensive cameras with famous names we all know, I am somehow drawn to the lowly-but-charming cheap plastic box camera - the underdog of the photography world. "Hey, these guys can make great photographs, too! No, really!" And the truth is that actually, they can.

A member of the Chattanooga Pipe and Drum 
Band, captured with my Debonair 120

I started my cheap plastic camera collection with the Debonair 120 from the Film Photography Project, which shoots 120 film in 6x4.5 cm format. I like this camera a lot. It's great for portraits, because when it is focused at a close subject, the lens is sharper than what you would expect. I think it makes better quality photographs than the stalwart cheap plastic camera, the Holga 120N (which I acquired shortly after getting the Debonair. However, I like the Holga for the square 6x6 cm negatives and the strong vignette effect.

Weathered Barn. Holga 120N

Drip Sand Castle, Panama City Beach, Florida. Kodak
Brownie Hawkie Flash

With my plastic camera obsession now in full swing, I set my sights on a Kodak Brownie Hawkeye Flash camera, which is exactly the camera my parents bought when I was born. The camera is made from an early form of plastic called Bakelite, and it was so rugged a camera that it lasted into my teenage years before disappearing. I found an original version with the metal film winding knob, and it always gets noticed when I shoot with it.

At this point I thought I had all the plastic I needed, until I saw a slide at my family's recent reunion (see the previous post). In this slide, I and my twin brother, Kelley, are approximately eleven years old, and we standing next to our six year old younger brother, Michael. We are posed next to the tracks of one of Chattanooga's former railroad terminals. Michael and I are holding cameras - cheap plastic cameras with blue tops. (Note:  I have lost the digital version of this image, but as soon as I can make another one, I will update this post with it.)

As soon as the slide appeared on the screen, I knew that I had seen that camera recently at a Chattanooga antique store, so the next day, Debbie and I went and bought it for $18. It is called the Windsor, and it came with the original box, strap, and lens cap.

 

After some research, I learned that is was one of several Diana clones made in the 1960's by the Great Wall Plastic Factory of Hong Kong. It shoots small square images on 120 film, and someday I'll shoot a roll with it. Now my plastic cameras number four.

I've given it some thought, and I think my "obsession" with cheap plastic cameras has to do with having pure fun with photography, and also I think a lot about the challenge of trying to make quality images with less than quality equipment. Using a camera like these puts the emphasis on the seeing and not the thinking. Give one a try!

Uncle Jonesy's Slides

My mom's side of the family had our annual gathering in the Chattanooga area. A fun day of food, fellowship, swimming, and honor was had by all, but one of the most enjoyable moments took place in the evening when we gathered in my cousin's living room for an old fashioned slide show with some of the hundreds of slides that my Uncle Jonesy took over nearly a forty year period of time. We focused on the slides of family, and the joy of seeing childhood or teenage photographs of many of us in the room was pure joy and elicited much laughter. My brother, Kelley, and I took turns operating the vintage Argus projector, just as we did when we were kids. After showing a number of trays, I announced that the slideshow must come to an end as we had to go, and their was a collective groan of disappointment in the room.

Earlier in the day my brother, who had brought the entire collection of slides, two projectors, screen, and projector table, asked if I would take possession of the collection for awhile, as he and his wife were getting ready to move to a new house.

I agreed, and now the collection is in the upstairs bedroom/office in my house. Whenever I see it, I am so thankful that Jonsey took the time, effort, and expense to create a tangible history of our family and his travels. It’s a treasure.

Obviously, there is a lot of photography here, and my brother and I are making plans to systematically scan every slide and make it available for viewing in one handy site. More on that later.

Since you are reading this blog, I will assume that photography is something in which you have some level of interest. I believe that we photographers have a calling to capture and preserve life as it happens by showing up with a camera and using it with an eye toward the future. Somewhere down the line, there will be those who think of you and be very grateful for what you have down with your camera. Families make history. It’s up to us to capture it.

New Home for Carter Dog

For about seven years now, my wife and I have been happy grandparents to a granddog, whose name is Darlin.’ My oldest daughter, Megan, recused her from a Nashville shelter when Darlin’ was eight months old, and she has been a much-loved member of our family ever since. She’s a great dog and truly loves her mother and her G-Mommy and G-Daddy. We cherish every visit she makes at our house.

This spring, Megan noticed that her next-door neighbors were keeping a dog all day long outside in a crate much to small. Megan was heartbroken by seeing the dog day after day in such conditions and eventually decided to act. So, one day she gathered up some cash, knocked on the door of the house, and offered to buy the dog. The neighbors accepted Megan’s offer, and suddenly we became grandparents to Carter Dog.

We got to meet Carter shortly afterward and found him to be a large, happy, and rambunctious, ten month old puppy who loved to play and be loved. In fact, he pretty much demanded total attention constantly. I was hard not to like him, but he was a lot of dog.

Now looking for a flash bracket.

We soon learned that Megan had planned to take a month long cross country trip, eventually visiting our other daughter, Amber, in Seattle, and that we would be needed to keep the granddogs while she traveled. My wife, Debbie, and I are both school teachers, and summer is usually when we get the hell out of town. However, we agreed to help out, knowing that we also could do some much needed home repairs while we kept the granddogs. However, it soon was clear that Carter was not a perfect fit, as he needed lots of space, especially outdoors with a fence. It was Megan’s original intention to find Carter a new home eventually, but naturally, she had become attached to this goofy dog. After talking it over with Megan, we decided to try to rehome Carter.

I created a Facebook post and some Craigslist ads with photos I had shot using my newly-acquired Rolleicord Vb. I really want to get handy with this camera that is so different from all the SLR’s I have used in my life. I used some Kodak Ektar 100 and processesed it at home using the Unicolor C-41 kit from the Film Photography Project Store. For the indoor shots, I used  a Vivitar 252 flash unit, which has its own PC cord attached. I didn’t have a way of mounting the flash to the Rolleicord, so I simply handheld both the camera and the flash, not knowing at all what the results would be. Actually, I was really pleased with the results, and I am looking for a flash bracket for the Rolleicord.

We had Carter for over a month before we took him to his new home. Wouldn’t you know it? I found that I, too, had fallen for this lovable goofball. I think of him every day and truly miss him. However, I know he is happy in his new home and being loved by the couple who are his new parents.

I urge you to take photos of your pets, or your grown children’s pets. You will never regret having them as treasured reminders of these furry family members.

Happy 4th of July from Uncle Jonesy's Cameras!

American Independence Day is special for many reasons beyond the historical event it celebrates,  but for me, it will always be associated with the intersection of family and picnic. This is because July 4th was “Camp Dixie Day,” my family's yearly celebration of, well, family. I was blessed to have a large extended family on my mother's side, and while we saw a lot of them often, due to the fact that most of the lived in the Chattanooga area, July 4th was a day my brother, Kelley, and I looked forward to all year. The whole family would gather at a picnic facility owned by and named after Dixie Yarns where my Aunt Claire worked as a secretary. There would be swimming, miniature golf, fried chicken/macaroni and cheese/baked beans (killer combo), and general good times.

My great uncle, Charles, with grandson. 

Of course, no Camp Dixie Day would be complete without Uncle Jonesy taking lots of snapshots with his camera. He used an Argus Autronic always with slide film. A lot of the time he shot Kodachrome, but because he worked for 3M in Chattanooga, he also shot a lot of Scotch Chrome, an E-6 slide film that was made by Ferrania. It wasn’t the best film to begin with, and now decades later,  the colors have faded considerably. The Kodachrome slides, however, looks just as good today as they did the day we first viewed them

I don’t have to tell you how important and cherished these photographs are to both my remaining family members and those who have come along since. Uncle Jonesy used his camera to preserve our favorite family memories on film, and in doing so, fostered a love of photography that remains with me today. As I journey into new stages of my life, I now see this is how loved ones remain with us even when they are no longer with us.

My wife, Debbie, and our two daughters, along with (L to R) Uncle Jonesy,
Aunt Claire, and Ruth and John, my grandparents, July 4, 1996 at
Camp Dixie. 

So please, get out your camera today and capture your family’s moments. And while you are at it, take some time to show some children how your camera works and pass on your passion for photography. Years later, some kid will remember you for it.

People Who Need People . . .

"People who need people

Are the luckiest people in the world."

 - Bob Merrill

Remembering that this blog is about my journey back to film photography, when I first began using a "higher quality" SLR camera (a Minolta XG that I bought the very day I received my first music teacher paycheck in September, 1980) I quickly discovered that I did not feel comfortable taking photos of people. Sure, there are a lot of fun-to-take but poorly-composed snapshots from those years. But as I began to aspire to become a more "serious" photographer and focus on making good travel photographs, I not only avoided having people in my photos, but I also actively excluded them. I wanted that perfect shot of that great landmark, and people simply got in the way. I could wait patiently for a long time until all the people were gone so I could ge my shot.

However, my photos of great historical sites look like . . . well . . . like everybody else photos of the same sight. There was always a nagging thought in my mind that, as least back then, I could have bought slides of places like Mt. Rushmore that looked better than mine did at the souvenir shop.

I'm now in my second go-around with film photography, and the influence that Robert Frank, Gary Winogrand, and Vivian Maier have had on me has forever changed my vision. Sure, there are many photographic opportunities where people are not needed, and all the work from Ansel Adams to John Shaw (and many others) bear that out. But my journey has taken me to where I can begin to see the photographic potential of people being interesting, unique, or even ironic. I now look forward to taking my camera out to places where there are lots of people doing things that catch my eye.

Mandolin Picker, Bear on the Square Festival, Dahlonega, Ga.

Brooklyn Street, Brooklyn, NY.

Folk Dancers, Bear on the Square Festival, Dahlonega, Ga.

4th of July Parade, Hilton Head Island, SC

Guitar Picker, Bear on the Square Festival, Dahlonega, Ga.

I always wondered (as perhaps you?) whether I should shoot first and ask second (maybe) or ask first. The truth is that I do both. If I am obvious and possible distracting or even annoying, I will ask permission first. But most of the situations I encounter involve people who will probably not know or care that they are being photographed, and I just shoot. A long lens (like something around 100mm) can help me get closer to a subject without getting uncomfortably close. Knowing how to use hyperlocal focus distance also helps me to be quicker with my camera. Using fast film helps me to be flexible with lighting changes, also.

Chances are that Mt. Rushmore will look pretty much the same next year as it does this year. But everyday people are out doing things that may never get reported exactly the same way. I now enjoy the challenge of seeing the uniqueness of a given moment and capturing it on film for posterity. I urge you to load your camera and get out there. Photographers need people, and that make them the luckiest people in the world!

Takin' It to the Streets

Back in the late 1980's I experienced my first go around with trying to become a more serious photographer and not just a snap shooter. I read every book I could get my hands on and even went to a workshop or two. One book that stood out was The Nature Photographer's Complete Guide to Professional Field Techniques by John Shaw.

Not only were Mr. Shaw's nature photographs beautiful, but also the chapter on exposure was the most understandable explanation of the sunny f16 rule that I had ever heard. I highly recommend this book if you can find it.

As much as I enjoy Mr. Shaw's book, I knew that I was not cut out to be a nature photographer, partially because I did not have the long lenses that nature photography requires, but mainly because I didn't have the emotional connection to nature that Shaw wrote was necessary. Sure, I enjoyed nature, but I wasn't interested in learning to identify species of plants or even animals. What I really got excited about was travel photography. I've always felt emotional connections to places of historical significance. And since my wife, Debbie, and I like to travel, I focused my photography on capturing significant scenes of place.

And yet, hundreds of Kodachrome slides later, I realized that my photography was mediocre at best. Why? Because I was only trying to recreate each place as others had already photographed it. Essentially, I was making snapshots of places like Mt. Rushmore, Savannah, Georgia, or most any place I visited.

Salem College, Winston-Salem, NC. One of the few photos of
I was proud in my early days of photography. 

My photographs were no different than many others of the same subject, and they probably were inferior to most. Also, I had absolutely no confidence in photographing people. In fact, I saw people as getting in the way of what I what trying to capture on film.

I am happy to report that, in my second go around with film photography, things have been very different. Perhaps it is because I am older and see the world differently; perhaps it is because of books  Vivian Maier and Robert Frank's photography. Whatever the reason, I am learning to see things that I never would have thought interesting enough to photograph before. For example, one of my favorite things to do now is simply walk down a street in a city or town with my camera ready. I look for anything that seems even remotely interesting:  signs, architecture, repeating or contrasting shapes or colors, irony,  and, yes, even people. Especially people. I am no longer afraid to capture an image of interest involving people. I've taken the approach of "shoot first and ask questions later." And it has paid off.

Please Keep Off Steps
Brooklyn, NY

Barber Shop
Brooklyn, NY

Parking Lot Pickers
Bear on the Square Festival, Dahlonega, Georgia

Oddstory Brewing
Chattanooga, Tennessee

People take out their smartphones and shoot photos of a dish of food they have just been served because they feel an emotional connection to it. I try to do the same for the small things that attract me to a place. And yes, it might even be a pint of beer.

Chattanooga Brewing
Chattanooga, Tennessee

There is beauty in the details, and these photos of mine that capture details that I found interesting give me far more enjoyment than any of my well-exposed but otherwise ordinary photos of famous places.

I am still a long way away from being the photographer I want to be someday, but this is what I have learned so far:  Don't wait until you are looking at Mt. Rushmore or the Grand Canyon. Most everyone knows what those places look like, anyway. Load your camera with film (or get your digital camera) and head for any place that you find interesting and become an observer. Take your photography to the street (whatever that means to you) and capture the people and things that most people miss. When you get your photos back, you may have lots of keepers or just a few, but it doesn't matter - keep practicing your vision and your camera craft. I remember something I read somewhere that said, "Cameras take pictures, but photographers make photographs." Keep persistently practicing your ability to see. Sooner or later, you will be making photographs that make you proud and keep you going back out for more.

Norway and the Christmas Camera

A trip to Europe has been a bucket list item for my wife and myself for many years, but thanks to the encouragement and insistence of my younger daughter, Amber, we finally made it across the Atlantic Ocean in late December, 2017. Our destination was Bryggen, Norway. I would not be honest if I said I wasn't nervous about going to such a northernly location around Christmas, as I am not a cold weather person at all. However, our clothing preparation helped make the experience quite tolerable, as did the fact that, for the duration of our stay, Bryggen was quite a bit warmer than my hometown of Chattanooga, Tennessee.

As we prepared for our trip, I also gave a lot of thought as to what cameras I should bring. I already had made the decision to shoot film - a risk, given the fact that I might never make it back to Norway, and that this could well be my one photographic shot (pun intended). There were some issues to consider, such as weight (we were not checking luggage, so the entirety of our belongings had to fit in backpacks, including camera gear), airport security (like keeping the film safe from X-rays), versatility (lenses, film, etc.), and reliability (my film cameras are between thirty and forty years old).

Eventually, I chose my two Nikon bodies, an FE and an FM2n. For lenses I chose two Nikkors, a 50mm 1.7 and a 105mm 2.8, and also a Vivitar 28mm 2.8. The FM2n would be loaded with Kodak Tri-X 400 b&w film, while the FE would get Kodak Gold 200 color film.

And then, just days before our departure,  came the family Christmas celebration. And as I unwrapped the present from my brother, Kelley, I saw it: a beautiful, clean, handsome Minolta 7s rangefinder.

I have always been partial to Minoltas, and I have owned and used several of their SLR's. But lately I had been desiring a rangefinder, and obviously, my brother had been listening to me talk about this one wishfully. I immediately wanted to use it, but we were leaving for New York City the next day to begin our journey to Norway. What to do?

I made the quick decision to leave the FE behind and take the 7s in it's place. After all, I already was risking it shooting film on such a monumental trip. Why not throw all caution to the wind and take an untested camera along. My one comforting thought was that the FM2n is a fully mechanical camera, and should the electronics fail, I could still shoot it.

That line of thinking later proved to be quite ironic.

We stayed with our daughter in Brooklyn for a couple of days waiting for our flight to Norway. I took the FM2n out and did some street shooting on Christmas Day. Everything seemed fine, and later when I developed and scanned that roll of Tri-X, I was quite pleased with the results.

However, the first time I took the FM2n out in Bryggen, it let me down. The film advance would not stop after a frame, and then it wouldn't advance at all. As I had no way to fix it until I got it home, back into the backpack it went, and out came the 7s, loaded with color film. The camera has a working meter on it, but the light in Norway is so strange (the sun never gets very high in late December) that I ended up bracketing everything. Nevertheless, after developing and scanning, I had some shots of which I was quite proud. The old Minolta 7s came through.

Being in Norway was an incredible experience, partially because it was my first time being somewhere other than the USA, but mainly because the natural beauty is stunning and the city of Bryggen is clean, efficient, historical, and charming. There was no shortage of things at which to point your camera lens. Although I want to visit many other places in Europe, I really hope I can return to Norway someday. It was truly magical.

Once I returned home I was able to repair the FM2n myself (don't ask me how), and now it's back to being its old reliable self again. But my Minolta 7s will always be the Christmas gifts that allowed me to bring back a little of Norway with me.