rutting around (and getting to interiors)

i blame the incredible Sally Mann for forcing me into my latest photo rut. to be fair, i also credit her for helping me out of it.

to explain: way back when, when i began writing fiction, a very wise man told me to read everything i could get my hands on. and i did. i read a lot. actually, i read like there was no tomorrow. as for my production and my willingness to experiment, to take risks, to make it up as i went along? it seems all of this and more tanked. "why bother?" i thought. so many wonderful things have already been done, why not just experience (and by way of this, celebrate) all that greatness? in short, playing around, discovering what might be possible just seemed a heck of a lot less fun after reading so many greats.

i should have learned my lesson then.

but i didn't. and so, having become increasingly bothered (and i say "bothered" because to say that i felt "ashamed" is too strong a statement) by my lack of knowledge about other photographers and/or famous photos, i recently began reading books and renting documentaries about photography in general and famous photographers/photographs in particular.

everything was going along swimmingly until the dvd entitled What Remains: The Life and Work of Sally Mann arrived. [for a taste.]

holy smokes! wowsa. all i can say is about the experience of watching the documentary and seeing a sampling of her work is this: there are times when i'm glad to have eyes and there are times when i am really, really, really glad to have eyes. again. holy smokes! after i finished viewing the documentary (and admittedly, there were portions of the documentary that while i could still listen to them, i definitely couldn't watch them. . . not, anyway, after learning of one of the ways the title term "remains" was being used in the film--if you are squeamish about death, corpses and decay, beware!)--but i digress. anyhoot. after i finished viewing the documentary, i remember thinking, once again, "why bother?" i would just as soon look at and think about her work (well most of it, anyway) for the rest of my life. and don't even get me started on her camera and her process. wowsa. the rut began.

but then. as i thought more about her work and its potential for both teaching and inspiring photo hobbyists like myself, what i was most drawn to was her use of (dare i say "command of"?) light. i've always been drawn to well-lit scenes but what she is able to capture, her sense of light play--it's just amazing. i recall at one point in the documentary, she talks about the importance of just getting out there, setting up the camera and just taking another picture. how this is crucial in terms of getting her going again after finishing a series or show. this i think is another incredible lesson she has to share with photo hobbyists. to not let the last success or other people's success keep you from getting out there, setting things up and seeing where it goes.

since i'm readying to move to a new place that has much better light play (or light potential) than my place currently does, i decided to play around a bit with the lighting (as well as the light fixtures) in those spaces. shooting b/w for this seemed to make the most sense (especially after experiencing Mann's work) so i got out my polaroid 220 and my canon ae1 program and started a series of interiors, a sampling of which appears above and below. i don't normally think about taking photos in terms of themes or series (usually, for me, what the photos all have to do with is testing a new camera or documenting a vacation, trip or outing), but this too was something Mann's work reminded me was certainly possible to do, to think about, to play around with.

fast-forward

I’m currently suffering from photographer’s block so it seemed as good a time as any to write about what I’m currently unable to do. I kind of anticipated that I’d end up abandoning the blog (didn’t imagine it would be for four months though) when I began developing my own b/w film at the start of August. Then came the caffenol experiments, and then trying my hand at developing color film in b/w chemicals as well as in coffee. By early September, I was feeling brave enough to try my hand at developing color film (both negative and slide film) at home. And I have to say, I’m not sure that I would ever send film out for development again. It’s not that my results are better, more even or more consistent than the lab’s. I know, for instance, I’m a really poor agitator and the way I treat/handle negatives would probably horrify people at the lab.

That said, I love the process. All of them. While it’s great not having to wait the week or so to have the lab mail the developed negatives back to me (and while I’ve saved a boat-load of money developing film at home), what I enjoy most is my ability to participate in (note that I didn’t say control) the overall process. From film to reel, reel to tank, to the heating (or cooling) of water, chemicals, homebrews, etc.—I get to participate. And, yes, (however inconsistent or sloppy my methods may be), I also get to agitate. That said, I was overjoyed to learn about stand development and Rodinal—spool it, tank it, mix it, leave it for an hour or two. . .minimal agitation.

As for the cost. I figured out my savings a couple of times while I was standing there over-agitating some film. When I’d send b/w to the lab, it was 10 bucks per roll (i.e., of 120 film) plus tax and shipping. 120 color was 5 bucks a roll, plus tax, shipping and handling. The 5 liter Tetenal C41 kit cost me 80-90 bucks, including shipping. Each liter develops 16-20 rolls of color film. At roughly 18 bucks a liter, my cost per roll is about a buck. The savings with b/w is ridiculous whether I’m using coffee or a chemical developer. There’s the cost of the fix in either case but that’s also ridiculously low. Of course being able to develop at home means that I’m buying, shooting, and developing more film than I would if I were still sending things to the lab, but I’m still guessing my costs are much lower than they were when, mid-June or so, I started experimenting with film.

But back to photographer’s block. It’s not that I don’t have the desire to shoot and develop more film—it’s more a matter of not having much of anything I want to photograph. When I was in the camera testing/test roll phase, it made sense to shoot the same stuff again and again so that I could compare cameras as well as development techniques. This was also true as I would test out different films. But it’s been awhile since I’ve purchased any vintage (i.e., new to me) cameras, so it makes little sense to keep shooting the same subject matter as a kind of point of comparison.

To this end, I’ve thought about (and am still thinking about) what I might do to make the familiar strange or to make the same-ole, same-ole look somewhat new/different. Last week I shot a couple rolls of film on/around campus, trying to find ways to make myself see the surroundings (or the potential of those surroundings) in new ways. One set was taken with the Smena (see first four photos below) and the other with the Smena 8m (see last five photos below) as both cameras allow me to double, triple or even quadruple expose the film. Nothing terrifically exciting here. I’m decidedly in a content/location rut, looking forward to my next opportunity to travel—to photograph something besides what’s found at home, in the yard/woods or on campus.