the learning curve

It occurred to me recently that I might as well have titled this blog "the learning curve" since nearly every entry is tagged as such and since the blog has largely to do with what I don't yet get, what I don't yet know how to do, about where I'm stuck, what's gone horribly wrong, etc. Then again, even if I had titled the blog "the learning curve," I'm guessing the tag I'd use most frequently instead would be "on the process of" since that's really what I'm trying to illustrate here--whether or not things go swimmingly, predictably or no.

I developed my first 4x5 negatives last night and I was surprised by how strange, awkward and unfamiliar this process proved to be. Or maybe I should say, instead, that I was "surprised by how strange, awkward and unfamiliar this process proved to feel."

To explain. Just recently I had been talking with one of my classes about antecedent genres and practices and what came first to my mind was how, having had experience working with, modifying, testing, working with, and developing film taken in 100+ 35mm and 120 cameras, it's fairly rare that I run across one that completely confounds me. Sure, sure, they all have their differences but I can, for the most part, figure out what's what or where's where and determine rather quickly if they work. That said, I did run across a Yashica TRL last fall (one that I eventually bought) that required an opposite advance of the film crank to set the shutter. That took me a good while to figure that out and I figured it out pretty much by accident.

All this said, I was really ill-prepared for how clumsy and clueless I felt while working with the 4x5 film. Aside from knowing that I'd still have to use developer, stop, fixer and to do a final wash, little else felt like it really translated from one format to the next.

Certainly, I had had a lot of guidance, and with this, practice loading the film holders, thanks to visual/verbal resources such as this and the time I've spent working with paper negatives. Still, my hands were all shaky and I felt sick to my stomach as I loaded the film holders with the 4x5 film. Part of this was fear of dropping the film, not being able to find it in the dark, loading the wrong side of the film, forgetting to close the box again before I turned the light back on, etc. But part of it was that I was reminded again of how my bodily memory for this particular practice was lacking or at least greatly limited. For instance, I can inspect and practice loading film holders (i.e., with scrap paper or imaginary film) with the lights on. I can practice loading film holders with photo paper with the help of a safelight. But with film, well, it felt like a pretty different game.

But this much I knew. I had to go through the same kind of bodily memory learning curve when I began spooling up and developing 35mm and 120 film. And to be fair, sliding the rectangular-shaped, single-exposure 4x5 film into the holder is much easier and goes much more quickly than reeling up 12 or 36 exposure strips.

The element of the overall process that was hardest to master, or hardest to get a feel for, had to do with loading and then working with this bad boy:



Yipes. In this instance, I simply wasn't prepared for the difference involved between working with a circular, reel-based vs. square, single sheet developing tank. I can't bitch too much here though, given that the tank is in mint condition and was practically free. That is to say, it came as part of the large box lot of odds and ends I bought for 25 bucks last Spring along with all those wonderful negatives of Carl and Nancy. Thus, when I pulled this out of storage and gave it a washing, I was thankful that I didn't have to devote funds to a sheet film daylight tank.

But back to the learning curve: It was surprisingly difficult to think about working with this tank. That I wasn't going through the motion of winding film around a spool and then agitating the film in a circular fashion seemed really bizarre--like part of the process was left unaccomplished. [It reminded me a bit of how I felt when moving from working with vhs or cassette tapes to dvds or cds--not having to rewind the movie or music also seemed to violate my notion of what a proper completed process should both feel and sound like.]

I had also grown very reliant upon seeing my liquid levels with the circular tank. I knew that I needed 500 ml to develop a roll of 120 but I could also see when I was getting there. Not the case at all for this new square Bakelite beast. I really only knew it was full when it began overflowing. Zoinks. Admittedly, I might have actually practiced filling the tank, measuring out chemicals, getting a feel for the agitation process, and pouring chemicals back out of the tank before my first real run.

And now if I may, a word about the scratches. Holy cow. I have a new appreciation for what they mean when they talk about the softness of emulsion. I'm not sure if I scratched a good number of these negatives while loading or unloading them from the tank (or maybe it was that something evil was stuck in my squeegee?), but I definitely need to take more care next time. The tank does come with a plastic guide for inserting the sheets (again, hard to see what you're doing in the dark!) and everything felt like it went swimmingly with that. My sense is that when the process was done, I pulled the sheets out of the tank backwards or against the curved plastic rails that keep the film sheets from touching each other in the tank.

So I've begun to build a bodily memory for this process, for working with this tank. I wonder how many times I'll have to load, go through the development process, and unload the films for it to feel as familiar as working with the circular tank does? I'm guessing seven? Well, provided that I do this more than once a year.

gear: Yankee film squeegee and Paterson tank

Best purchase ever--this Yankee brand film squeegee that I recently ordered from B&H for (get this) 4.95. It's not that I was unaware that such a thing existed back in August, 2008 when I first began developing black and white film at home. (I started with at-home color dev a couple of weeks later.) It was that I was trying to cut corners (and costs) wherever I could. Not a wise decision where the squeegee is concerned. In fact, I highly recommend that anyone interested in setting up an in-home lab spring for one of these right away. Back in 2008, I think I was thinking that god gave me fingers for a good reason and that I could make a make-shift (not to mention free) squeegee by using them. Fast forward almost two years and all I can say is that I've photoshopped out more water streaks and spots than I care to remember. Of course, many times I just let them be, reasoning that it was all in service of making the process--warts and all--more visible. But all that has changed since the Yankee arrived--streak-free film for me!

Doing b/w film developing at home is really satisfying, fun, easy and, of course, really inexpensive, especially when compared with the cost of sending b/w film out to be developed. Developing color film at home is also satisfying, fun, relatively inexpensive (on average, it costs me about 80 cents a roll to do at home) and, I think, color dev is much easier (and quicker) than doing b/w film at home, mainly because the dev, fix and rinse times are shorter and because there's no need to consult the massive dev chart since all color films, all speeds, cook for the same time. Yeah!

Getting set up to do home developing (whether color or b/w) can, on the other hand, be costly. In this post, I focus on the costs for b/w film since that's what I started doing first, leaving the costs related to color developing for another post.

As I said to start, I started with b/w home-dev as modestly (read: cheaply!) as I could. The Paterson tank (plus an extra reel) cost me about 28 bucks, film clips were another 5 bucks per set, and I also needed a set of mix-up cups. I also had to add to the mix things that I didn't necessarily need to (and, indeed, did not) purchase from Adorama, Freestyle or B&H--a timer, thermometer, scissor, and funnel. Add to this the cost of the chemicals--a developer, fixer and wetting agent (to reduce streaks). I was using (and still use) plain water for the stop bath. Oh yeah. Did I mention the film scanner? That also needed to be factored into the start-up costs. So why I didn't add the squeegee to the mix is beyond me. Like I said to start, I knew they were available, inexpensive and I was well aware of the function they served. I guess I was thinking then any little bit of money saved was a good thing. So while the initial output for starting up can be significant (in my case, about 300-350 dollars, with the greater portion of that going to the film scanner) day-to-day developing is really inexpensive, especially if one does stand developing--a process that involves little agitation, very small amounts of developer and longer-than-usual development times. (look here for more on stand developing.)

For example, say I want to do a stand development on a roll of 120 film. A 17 oz (or 500 ml) bottle of Agfa Rodinal (the developer most often used for stand development) costs about 17 bucks. For the stand process, I use 1 part Rodinal and 100 parts water. (To complete the stand, I'd pour the chemicals in the tank and then let the film stand for about an hour, rinse, fix and then do a final 10 minute rinse.) But back to the mixing: Since 500 ml of liquid is needed to adequately cover the film in the tank, I will need to mix 5ml of Rodinal with 500 ml of water. One bottle of Rodinal will allow me to stand develop 100 rolls of 120 film, bringing the cost per roll to 17 cents (minus the cost of fixer which is also really inexpensive).

While on the subject of expense, perhaps one of the more costly b/w development processes involves developing film in coffee (but it must be instant coffee), vitamin C and washing soda. Caffenol development is, hands-down, better for the environment but depending on the price of instant coffee and the availability of powdered vitamin C (vitamin C crystals) and washing soda (in my case, I had to order the washing soda online and it took me forever and a trip to CA to find vitamin C crystals/powder-that said, one box of washing soda and jar of vitamin C powder will last you forever!) it can be a more costly way to go. Certainly so when compared with Rodinal stand development--the cheapest development process I've found. There is a lot on the web about Caffenol development, but this is my favorite resource--I've downloaded and saved the pdf directions, the link to which is available beneath the video.

A final note: I mentioned above and provided links to three of the places from which I most often order film and developing supplies. Of the three, I think B&H prices are definitely the best (and given my proximity to NY, I usually receive orders within two days with standard shipping), but they can't always send the stuff I want to buy (i.e., most b/w developers I want are only available for purchase in their store), so I often purchase b/w chemicals from Freestyle. Freestyle has tons of great stuff--products as well as learning/teaching resources--but they do have a 25 dollar minimum order there. I used Adorama a lot when I first got into photography, but tend now only to use B&H and Freestyle.

One other final note: There is a way to keep start up costs down and that's by forgoing the scanner. There are indeed, Flickr groups out there, members of which insist they don't need no stinkin' scanner and I also have a set on Flickr that contains images I've scanned using my kitchen window.