a gift for the solstice

December 21, 2020

The year has been a challenge, and as we enter into winter, we will most certainly see more darkness. But without this season of darkness, we don’t fully understand or appreciate the light. As a celebration of the change in season, I would like to share a video I recently created. It was made in collaboration with my wife, flutist Jesse Tatum, and Chatter, the amazing chamber music ensemble based here in Albuquerque, NM. The piece is titled “Air” by Japanese composer Toru Takemitsu. In a year when the fight for one’s own breath, the conduit for our entire existence, has been threatened in myriad ways, this piece might serve as a reminder of our humanity, and our capacity for peace. “While I breathe, I hope.”

Chatter is a valuable part of the cultural fabric of our city and state. If you have the means, it would be a great organization to support, especially in this trying year. To donate, please visit their website.

2020: 52 (Assessment)

December 19, 2020

Well, holy cow, I can’t believe this is my 52nd weekly blog entry of the year. I guess we had a leap year crammed in to this shit show known as 2020, since we technically have an extra weekend after this one. But screw it, I’ll use this as my year end wrap up, and take next week off to nurse my food hangover from the holiday, and stay hunkered down in my office, burning more negatives and cranking some Nick Cave on my CD player. If you are reading this, congratulations, you have survived this trial by virus, social upheaval, political division, and toilet paper hoarding. All kidding aside, we have survived, though many of us have felt losses, large and small. I am not trivializing any of it, mind you. It’s been hard, and it will most likely get harder, but every day we see light rising in the morning and there is hope in that.

Here is my list of thoughts, observations, shout outs, lumps of coal, and above all, gratitude.

Grateful for Zoom, especially since it allowed me to stay connected to my band of photo geeks every Tuesday night through the pandemic. A welcomed respite from the doom and gloom, and always supportive conversations around the creative process, self-publishing, and small brewer suggestions.

Improv. It makes my life better. It makes me a better person. It is fun. It is more than you’d expect. Try it, you might agree.

The new Fiona Apple album was played more than any other in my house. A stunner. Listen to it if you haven't already.

Destroyer and Fleet Foxes (probably) round out my top three for the year.

Hand binding a book was a new challenge, and I used the early days of the lockdown to get my Japan book ready for the world. A cathartic process from start to finish. Thank you Brian for helping along the path.

Photographic experimentation throughout the year kept the wolves at bay for me. 2020 was the year I fully embraced my love of film photography. Something I plan on continuing in the new year. I sing to the muse not to abandon me yet.

Thank you, Blurb and Magcloud. Print your damn work, people!

35mm film burns better than 120 or 4x5. Trust me.

Buy a bidet.

CDs sound better than Spotify. Vinyl is the best, though.

I miss the ocean.

I miss travel.

I love my wife. She’s my best friend. And she’s a bad ass.

I finally know how to make a good pizza dough from scratch.

New Jersey never felt further away from New Mexico than it did this year.

Typos are the bane of my existence.

Therapy and pharmaceuticals help.

Proud to have voted Trump out of office.

I still love the smell of Stop Bath.

There is an unending supply of trashy shows to stream on the internet. I’m looking at you “The Boys.”

“Mank” was overrated.

Godard is still alive.

Tony Bourdain is still dead.

I am a shark.

Thank you for being part of my life, every last one of you out there.

I am a closeted optimist.

Better days are coming.

Gear Review: Damaged Canon FD Lens

December 13, 2020

Calling all gear heads, especially Canon fanboys, this review is for you. If you’re a photo geek and have spent any time on eBay, you know that “old glass” is experiencing renewed attention. Spikes in pricing are nothing new, especially in the film photography world, but with the advent of cheaply made, easily acquired lens adapters, it is now possible to get just about any old lens to work on your fancy pants digital camera. These old lenses are valued for their “look",” and if you want to read between the lines of the spin doctors, you could deduce that this means any unique quality that one cannot find on today’s optical offerings. I love the character of old lenses as much as the next dweeb, and have had wonderful results mounting some stellar Leica glass onto my Canon 6D. That’s right, I said Leica, so sue me.

In the interest of proving that you don’t need a bundle of cash to have fun with old lenses, I will focus this review on what is currently my “go to” lens, a Canon FD 50mm f1.8 lens. Pretty sure this was the standard lens that came with a Canon AE-1 when you bought one from Andre Agassi’s older brother, back in the day. My copy was obtained from a friend who found the camera and lens in the back of their closet. Maybe I could use it, they thought. Though I already had an AE-1 of my own, I graciously took it off their hands anyway. Figuring I might be able to play with the extra lens without any real consequences, I wondered to myself…”what would happen if…?” What if I dropped the lens on the ground? What if I smashed the lens with a hammer? If I scratched the front and back elements with course sandpaper? Yes, purists, I did all of these. And then bought a cheap adapter from Amazon to attach the abused lens to my digital camera. Viola! Unpredictable results. Unrepeatable photos. I dare you to try to recreate the photos I’ve been making with this gem. Follow my method, but know, your results may vary.

On to the real world usage. The lens has an aperture range from a wide open, bokeh wet dream of 1.8, all the way to f/16. However, I never use it on any setting other than wide open. It provides creamy, shallow depth of field, with a sweet spot of focus that would make a Lensbaby cry for its mommy. It also creates fuzzy areas of blasted out highlights that make shooting into the sun a hazed out misadventure. I usually shoot with a rubber lens hood to bring down the intrusive effects of the flared out haze from light sources. Even I have my limits for how much visual schmutz I can deal with. And even though I am a self-appointed film evangelist, I appreciate the ability to shoot with this lens on my digital camera, considering I have about ten frames of deletable photos for every one keeper. I find that setting the lens at the minimum focus point and then leaning in and out until something is in focus seems to work well. Not exactly “spray and pray” more like “creep and peep.”

As far as resulting images are concerned, please keep in mind that the raw images will most likely require some post-production work in Lightroom (my software of choice, not a paid endorsement…yet…ahem…) Especially to wrench some contrast out of the raw captures. No, that’s not cheating. Use your tools, be it a hammer or the clarity slider. I find nature subjects render best using this lens, but I bet you could probably do some cool night street shooting, especially with your ISO setting cranked up to 25600, or whatever the ungodly low light setting is nowadays.

I hope you are inspired to take a hammer to one of your extra lenses and give this approach a try. Or snag the cheapest lens you can find one eBay and give it a go. What have you got to lose, except reliability, predictability, perfection, and taking boring photos that look like everyone else’s?

2020:51 (On Returning)

December 12, 2020

You can go to the ends of the world, in pursuit of the exotic, the unique, the visually fascinating. Or you could stay close to home, and return to the same places over and over again. Each will yield inspiration. Each will yield satisfaction. But they will also provide different feelings. Like the rush of a new love vs. the deep emotional connection of a long-term relationship. The former is fleeting; the latter can last indefinitely.

2020:50 (Self-Destructive Tendencies)

December 5, 2020

Metaphors are all fine and good, but sometimes the direct meaning of words is more appropriate. This year has been one of destruction, in ways small and large. And I’ll ignore stepping on the soapbox sitting next to me, holding off on the socio-political banter for the time being. We all need a break at this point, don’t we? Instead, i’m taking time to look more deeply at my work and process over the past year. Apropos, since this is entry number 50 for the year… how the fuck are we a few weeks away from the new year? Anyone who’s read this blog with any regularity (I know there are at least two of you) would know that my work has taken some radical directions this year. I’ve devoted myself almost exclusively to film photography in 2020, but there have been some forays into digital as well. I’m not a Luddite, I’m not a purist, and I’m not a film fetishist (um, maybe I’m guilty on that last count.) Most people don’t give a fuck what tools you use to create your work. It’s the final images that matter. At the same time, I can’t neglect the fact that the majority of my work this year has been a shift away from the pristine, singular image. There are roots to this shift to be found in my work over the past few years, but I think it’s been during this pandemically enforced, navel gazing year that I have allowed myself the freedom to pursue these ideas in many different ways. Some of my self-publishing projects have already reflected this move towards using several images to create a feeling, to convey my thoughts, to capture the character of a particular location. To push myself further away from relying on clarity, sharpness and other signs of a perfectionist slant, I started using my old friend, the Lensbaby, bringing unpredictability and happenstance to my photos. The deep dive into film brought another variable and an invitation to surprise. Further down the rabbit hole, pinhole lenses on my big boy dslr allowed for unrestrained exploration of shapes, forms and, as always light. Plastic cameras, slow film, home developing, scanning and post-production in Lightroom, along with a secret combo of software led me to a point where I took an even more dramatic step. I burned, scratched, pieced and otherwise degraded my roles of film, at once destroying while creating. Why stop there? I found an old lens for a Canon AE-1, that I knew was not functioning properly. So first, I threw it on the ground. Kicked it into the dirt. Stepped on it. I took a hammer to the lens. It did not break completely. Kudos to 1970s glass and metal. it still fit on my digital camera, by means of an adapter. And it became the latest tool for me to explore and record, without any hope of perfection. Or at least perfection in the literal sense. Because some of the photos I’ve been creating feel closer to an ideal to me than anything I have tried to create with “perfect” light, “perfect” focus or “perfect” composition. I’m not going to belabor the oft-quoted Picasso again, but to say that my destructive tendencies have lead to a fertile run of creation for me this year, well that’s an understatement. The muse is still here, and she brings deeper, more satisfying art from deep down in the well. And while that water flows, I’ll raise a glass and drink it. And then I’ll smash the glass against the wall.

2020:49 (Ten Things)

November 27, 2020

Trust me, this is not clickbait…here are ten things that occupied my time this week:

1) Diego Maradona died this week. I’m far from a serious football (soccer) fan, but I do know the importance of the “Hand of God” and the cult of Maradona that carries much weight in Napoli. A great remembrance here.

2) I watched “Birdman” last night. What a fantastic film. Edward Norton upstages Micheal Keaton on the stage and in the film, and Iñárritu copped some serious Godard vibes. Stellar.

3) Thank you to Sara and the Bridgewater Camera Club for inviting me to speak to their group, via Zoom. Nova Scotia, I will meet you in person, some day.

4) Bought me a Supersampler. Stand by for more multi-lens chaos.

5) I sent off four projects to the printer this week. Can’t stop, won’t stop,

6) Do you like cheese? I do.

7) Bill Callahan is a goddamn American treasure.

8) I will gladly buy Daido Moriyama re-issues, because a) his older work is impossible to find; b) he is clearly cashing in while he’s still alive to reap the benefits; c) I’m a fanboy.

9) Yoga helps.

10) I’ve got some new items for sale in my online store. Support the arts.

2020:48 (Keep Moving)

November 21, 2020

The virus is rearing its head here in New Mexico, and case numbers are almost three times what they were a month ago. The state went into a two week lockdown this Monday, severely limiting the opportunity to leave the house. After a particularly trying couple of days, I needed a time outside to breathe. I made my way over to the Nature Center, which was also off limits due to the lockdown. Instead, I made my way into the bosque through the public bike path. There were only a handful of people out, and everyone I saw was in a mask. I brought along my Holga wide pinhole camera, and loaded it with some expired 800 ASA film. The speed allowed me to shoot hand-held…quite unheard of for pinhole photography. But since sharpness is a bourgeois concept anyway, so who cares if the images aren’t tack sharp. It’s a pinhole camera, after all.

Photography has been my respite through this crisis, and for that, I am grateful. How are you coping?

Gear Review: Quad-Cam Film Camera

November 18, 2020

Here’s a gift for all the gear junkies out there. I’m jamming out another camera review!

Hey all you Sony ABc200x shooters! Calling all the Fujifilm fanboys! No, I’m not gonna sway you towards a Ricoh Daido GR5000, or micro 2/3 or 3/4 or 16/18th crop sensor, digital paperweight. I’m talking about a film camera. Not the YouTube, flavor of the month, medium format 6x7, or one of those Hasselblad panos that will cost you your first child. I’m not even drinking the Lomography kool-aid today (though to be fair, that cult saved my life, in the early 00’s, before it was cool to hate on Lomo…) but I digress. I’m going to wax poetic about the craptastic, plastic, 35mm film camera, known to me as the “Quad-Cam.” Damn, they even have one of these gems in the Cooper Hewitt / Smithsonian Design Museum, so you know it’s legit.

I wish I could tell you the technical specs of this wonder of post-modern technology, but the model I own did not come with much details. So instead, I’ll share some info I cribbed from an eBay post (apologies to whomever this is lifted from…)

The camera takes four consecutive pictures on a 24x36mm negative as the shutter spins round like clockwork. With fixed focus and shutter speed (about one second in total, so 1/4 second for each shot) and aperture. Pictures with four images taken after one another can be great fun. It works especially well with frantically moving people or sports. The shutter is a small plastic rotating disc placed behind the lenses. This disc has one small opening and in combination with the four light chambers, it gives four exposures. The Camera has four 26mm f/11 lenses and that everything from 1.2m to infinity is in focus. The shutter speed is set at 1/100s with .22 second intervals between each frame. The film advance is a thumb wheel cog. When loaded with film this also cocks the shutter. The camera has a small frame counter in the bottom that is automatically reset when you open the back. Pictures are composed through a folding frame finder on top.

Yada, yada, yada… all this info kind of goes out the window when you shoot with this camera. The only thing you have control over is 1) choice of film; and 2) where you point this thing. I found (PRO TIP) that ASA 100 film seems to work best, at least in this gorgeous New Mexico daylight. You might want to use ASA 200 or 400 if you live in a less-bright environment. My roll of ASA 400 was horribly overexposed. The sequence of exposures moves pretty quickly, so I would suggest moving the camera while you shoot, if you are shooting a non-moving subject… at least you’ll get four slightly different images on each frame of film. If you are shooting moving subjects, try not to move at all, and let the camera spin its magic. I really wish there was more control over the speed of the four exposures.

So, on to the results. There is something I really like about the grouping of four images on one standard 35mm frame. The image quality is surprisingly better than expected, from a shitty, fixed focus, plastic lens. I got some really nice results shooting directly towards the sun, where a nice blast of lens flare crept into a fe frames. I also enjoyed the reckless abandon of not even trying to frame up my shots. Just point and shoot, like God intended. I also like being able to hack the camera, by placing a finger or two over some of the lenses, resulting in a frame that has one or two images missing from the frame. Scan a few of these frames in a row and you have a geometric study in randomness.

My conclusions, and you may not agree… spend the 5 to 10 bucks on eBay and snag one of these cameras and try it out. Chances are it will probably break sooner than later, but in the meantime, it will free you up of any ideas of control and predictability. It will most likely disappoint you more often than not. It may also blindside you with wonder and surprise… and magical, fleeting joy. Just like life.

2020: 47 (Burn Blister)

November 14, 2020

The experimentation that this fucked up year has ushered in for me continues. Hours working from home allows for frequent, albeit short, diversions into my personal work. The equation is simple enough: a stack of negatives, some bleach, sandpaper, a lighter, plastic wrap, sharpies and some time on my hands. What started as a “what if?” proposition has been continually rewarding. From 4x5 negatives to 35mm negatives, from black and white, now to color. Freedom to play, without worrying too much about failure. That is the key, I truly believe it. Failure is often something we try to avoid at all costs. However, without the risk of failure, how do we make discoveries? How do we advance, when we only tread on the well-worn path? I have burned a lot of film this year (wink, wink) and some of it goes promptly into the trash can. Then, every so often, a wonderful moment of happenstance occurs, and I get something that is truly unique. One of a kind, not to be repeated. I think Picasso was credited with saying “Every act of creation is first an act of destruction.” Or maybe it's vice versa. In any event, I’ve embraced this dictum, and it has reaped rewards both large and small. And since making art is often a dispensation of blood, sweat and tears, I’d like to add “blisters” to that list. Nothing like a drop of burning plastic on your finger to remind you what pain feels like.

2020: 46 (Metaphors)

November 7, 2020

Photographic practice can act as a metaphor during these challenging times we find ourselves living in. I thought about this as I undertook my weekly wander through the bosque this Thursday. So much unknown hovering around me, even when the environment is familiar. There is change evident in my surroundings, even if it is not immediately obvious. Time takes its time, sometimes. The desire for quick answers and obvious results is an unreasonable expectation. I walk quietly, wearing a mask, even though there are no other people around. I rely on technology to make my images that has been around for decades. Even though cameras have been upgraded digitally, I still rely on old tools and easy-to-dismiss “toys” that require using my hands, my eyes, my patience. November feels different, especially this year…so much pain and loss and confusion. I walked with my camera on cold mornings back in March and April, when the pandemic first reared its head, and now I’m doing exactly the same thing. My work has become more layered, more dense, more dramatically contrasty, dirtier, more expressive, and ultimately… less restrained, more free. Perhaps in the past one image would suffice in telling a story, now layers upon layers combine to express what is in my mind and in my heart. In the end, my process relies on my ability to see. And it relies on the sun, rising as it does every day, helping me to record what I see, in all its jumbled, chaotic complexity, onto a frame of film. Where it sits, in its latency, to finally emerge in the world.