SAD273 :: Nikon FM2n :: Nikkor 50mm/f1.8 AF-D :: Fomapan 400 :: June, 2008
30 September 2009
29 September 2009
44 Days: Iran and the Remaking of the World
David Burnett’s 44 Days: Iran and the Remaking of the World ($50 at National Geographic, on sale today) is the kind of book that makes you take stock of your life. I’ve reviewed this kind of book before, and I’ve got to tell you, it’s not easy to look at the work of famous photographers--expertly delivered by National Geographic--without comparing it to your own work. Ok, my own work.
But when I finished 44 Days, it was not David Burnett I was comparing myself to. Don’t get me wrong; he’s an incredible photojournalist, and his storytelling is represented poignantly. But, perhaps for the first time with a Geographic publication, it was not the quality of the photographs that overwhelmed me.
A protester near the university displays the blood of the latest "martyr." Tehran, January 31, 1979. Photo by David Burnett, Copyright 2009, National Geographic.
Instead, I am awed, and amazed, and completely humbled by the quality of the people in the photographs. Before I’d turned a dozen pages, I’d forgotten to approach the book as a photographer--Burnett’s vision is so transparent, and his images so real, that the usual photographic concepts don’t apply. And those that do apply are uncomfortable to talk about.
44 Days is Burnett’s account of the 1979 Iranian Revolution. We see the fall of the Shah, the rise of Ayatolla Khomeini, and the beginning of the Islamic republic that still unsettles the West today. It’s a given that the photographs are incredible. What I didn’t expect was the rich, amazing strength of the people they depict.
It was the photos of the torture house that got me. I put the book down, went for a walk. What a shocking, gaping lack of perspective we have, those of us who’ve never known the kind of horrors Burnett shows us in this book. Faced with those horrors, how could the people in these photographs still persist?
A young soldier is seized by demonstrators . . . after the army opens fire on the funeral cortege of a 27-year-old professor killed the day before. Tehran, December 27, 1978. Photo by David Burnett, Copyright 2009, National Geographic.
Those of us who enjoy photography, or spend our leisure time reading blogs or National Geographic, consider ourselves an educated lot. I, for one, was always taught that art and journalism are the currency of free thought. But how many of us have dipped our hands in the blood of a murdered protester? Who among us has cast stones at men with rifles? What does that say about our knowledge of the price of free thought?
After reading other Geographic books, I’ve wondered what it would have been like to be the photographer in these situations. Reading this book, I wonder what it would be like to be the subject. Being forced to take stock as a photographer is one thing; taking stock as a citizen is another measure altogether.
So it’s a testament to Burnett’s ability as a journalist that I had to read 44 Days a second time to consider the images as photographs. And like any Geographic book, the images here are impeccable. But I particularly appreciated one detail: Around the edge of each image we see a slender border of unexposed film, indicating that these photos are uncropped. As a photographer, that tells me very simply that David Burnett is proud of his vision, and that he presents to us exactly what he saw.
A woman at the Shahyad Monument awaits the return of Ayatollah Khomeini. Tehran, January 26, 1979. Photo by David Burnett, Copyright 2009, National Geographic.
The uncomfortable thing about this book is that the story is still being written. As I’m posting this, the headline on Yahoo News is: “Iran Flexes Muscle Ahead of Talks with Major Powers.” And some of the photos from 44 Days looked hauntingly familiar: They could have been coverage of Iran’s most recent election.
So this book makes you take stock. Few of us writing or reading this blog will be able to compare anything in our lives to what the people in this book went through, and are still going through. That’s a fortunate thing. It’s also fortunate that there are people like David Burnett to show us the price of what we have, a price sometimes paid with the Kodachrome-red blood of martyrs.
But when I finished 44 Days, it was not David Burnett I was comparing myself to. Don’t get me wrong; he’s an incredible photojournalist, and his storytelling is represented poignantly. But, perhaps for the first time with a Geographic publication, it was not the quality of the photographs that overwhelmed me.
A protester near the university displays the blood of the latest "martyr." Tehran, January 31, 1979. Photo by David Burnett, Copyright 2009, National Geographic.
Instead, I am awed, and amazed, and completely humbled by the quality of the people in the photographs. Before I’d turned a dozen pages, I’d forgotten to approach the book as a photographer--Burnett’s vision is so transparent, and his images so real, that the usual photographic concepts don’t apply. And those that do apply are uncomfortable to talk about.
44 Days is Burnett’s account of the 1979 Iranian Revolution. We see the fall of the Shah, the rise of Ayatolla Khomeini, and the beginning of the Islamic republic that still unsettles the West today. It’s a given that the photographs are incredible. What I didn’t expect was the rich, amazing strength of the people they depict.
It was the photos of the torture house that got me. I put the book down, went for a walk. What a shocking, gaping lack of perspective we have, those of us who’ve never known the kind of horrors Burnett shows us in this book. Faced with those horrors, how could the people in these photographs still persist?
A young soldier is seized by demonstrators . . . after the army opens fire on the funeral cortege of a 27-year-old professor killed the day before. Tehran, December 27, 1978. Photo by David Burnett, Copyright 2009, National Geographic.
Those of us who enjoy photography, or spend our leisure time reading blogs or National Geographic, consider ourselves an educated lot. I, for one, was always taught that art and journalism are the currency of free thought. But how many of us have dipped our hands in the blood of a murdered protester? Who among us has cast stones at men with rifles? What does that say about our knowledge of the price of free thought?
After reading other Geographic books, I’ve wondered what it would have been like to be the photographer in these situations. Reading this book, I wonder what it would be like to be the subject. Being forced to take stock as a photographer is one thing; taking stock as a citizen is another measure altogether.
So it’s a testament to Burnett’s ability as a journalist that I had to read 44 Days a second time to consider the images as photographs. And like any Geographic book, the images here are impeccable. But I particularly appreciated one detail: Around the edge of each image we see a slender border of unexposed film, indicating that these photos are uncropped. As a photographer, that tells me very simply that David Burnett is proud of his vision, and that he presents to us exactly what he saw.
A woman at the Shahyad Monument awaits the return of Ayatollah Khomeini. Tehran, January 26, 1979. Photo by David Burnett, Copyright 2009, National Geographic.
The uncomfortable thing about this book is that the story is still being written. As I’m posting this, the headline on Yahoo News is: “Iran Flexes Muscle Ahead of Talks with Major Powers.” And some of the photos from 44 Days looked hauntingly familiar: They could have been coverage of Iran’s most recent election.
So this book makes you take stock. Few of us writing or reading this blog will be able to compare anything in our lives to what the people in this book went through, and are still going through. That’s a fortunate thing. It’s also fortunate that there are people like David Burnett to show us the price of what we have, a price sometimes paid with the Kodachrome-red blood of martyrs.
SAD272: The Shadow
SAD272 :: Nikon FM2n :: Nikkor 50mm/f1.8 AF-D :: Fomapan 400 :: March, 2008
On the way to Lost Cove, I stopped and took a picture of my shadow, split across two heights. It was a long way up.
28 September 2009
27 September 2009
26 September 2009
25 September 2009
Heat
I don't feel well, and I'm grumpy. No causation implied; I'm grumpy most of the time. But until now I managed to keep my witty retorts in check. Then I got sick, and my stomach hurts, and even though I'm almost thirty years old, I'm still amazed that people will complain about anything. So here's a response to some comments, emails, and forum posts from the past few months . . .
I'm concerned about the validity of this test.
How concerned? Like, "we found a mass in your x-rays" concerned, or like, "what if his Summicron is sharper than my Summicron" concerned?
Ultimately you just over & under exposed some images, and developed them at Exposure Index 100.
Um . . . yes. Very astute. You must read a lot of mystery novels.
Best test ever? Not! Proper testing requires a densitometer.
You're one of those guys that carries his own silverware into restaurants, aren't you?
As for the project, I prefer to keep it for myself until it’s finished, instead of disclosing it just to participate in a private contest, with no authorship warranties, but plenty of freedoms from your part, and all these for a unique award: an old bulk roll film. No, thanks! But good luck with the digital . . .
I should grant "authorship warranties" to folks who post a link to their website? No thanks. But good luck with the "project."
Why don’t you just give the film to a school in your town, with no further conditions?
Because I hate schools.
Do you want to control what he/she shoots?
Nope. I'll leave that up to the Secretary of Photography.
So whether you think your test was in good humor or not, people will take it as a valid opinion to use or not use the film. Think about that for a while.
Yes, Professor Umbridge.
Wading through the data on the internet is challenging to say the least. No credentials required to publish whatever you want.
I know! It's complete anarchy out here! It's almost like it's up to the reader to discern the validity of an article's content with, like, his own judgement or something! There should be a law. Pretty soon they'll have porn on the internet.
But did your 'test' actually help anybody?
If you want to help somebody, go work at a soup kitchen. We're talking about a film speed test here. It takes five minutes. Don't like mine? Do your own. Too lazy? Then follow others' advice and accept the risks. That's how every one of us learned how to do this.
I'm concerned about the validity of this test.
How concerned? Like, "we found a mass in your x-rays" concerned, or like, "what if his Summicron is sharper than my Summicron" concerned?
Ultimately you just over & under exposed some images, and developed them at Exposure Index 100.
Um . . . yes. Very astute. You must read a lot of mystery novels.
Best test ever? Not! Proper testing requires a densitometer.
You're one of those guys that carries his own silverware into restaurants, aren't you?
As for the project, I prefer to keep it for myself until it’s finished, instead of disclosing it just to participate in a private contest, with no authorship warranties, but plenty of freedoms from your part, and all these for a unique award: an old bulk roll film. No, thanks! But good luck with the digital . . .
I should grant "authorship warranties" to folks who post a link to their website? No thanks. But good luck with the "project."
Why don’t you just give the film to a school in your town, with no further conditions?
Because I hate schools.
Do you want to control what he/she shoots?
Nope. I'll leave that up to the Secretary of Photography.
So whether you think your test was in good humor or not, people will take it as a valid opinion to use or not use the film. Think about that for a while.
Yes, Professor Umbridge.
Wading through the data on the internet is challenging to say the least. No credentials required to publish whatever you want.
I know! It's complete anarchy out here! It's almost like it's up to the reader to discern the validity of an article's content with, like, his own judgement or something! There should be a law. Pretty soon they'll have porn on the internet.
But did your 'test' actually help anybody?
If you want to help somebody, go work at a soup kitchen. We're talking about a film speed test here. It takes five minutes. Don't like mine? Do your own. Too lazy? Then follow others' advice and accept the risks. That's how every one of us learned how to do this.
24 September 2009
23 September 2009
AshevilleHDR prices reduced!
For you art collecting types, I've dropped the prices of my AshevilleHDR prints that are currently on display at the Asheville Regional Airport. They are now $100 a piece. That's an insane deal.
You can see all of the images here. You can even order them at that link, but oddly enough, it's a lot cheaper to buy them in person at the airport.
22 September 2009
The DarkTopo Film Give-Away!
****UPDATE!!! See additional guidelines below!!!****
Awhile back the ridiculously generous Kyle Cassidy took a liking to my project, A Declaration of Arms. He sent me several 100-foot rolls of black and white film, and I shot all but one of them before I went digital. The remaining roll has been in my fridge ever since, and I've decided to pass it on to someone else.
I know this is not a Guggenheim Fellowship or anything, but there was a time in my life when 100 feet of donated film made the difference between progress and stagnation--and even if I haven't exactly reached greatness yet, Kyle's gift spurred me to take some great pictures, more from the vote of confidence than the film's monetary value.
The film is Arista.EDU Ultra, which we all know is actually Fomapan 400. I've found it to be an excellent film. This roll is still sealed from the factory, still hasn't reached its expiration date, and has never been removed from my fridge.
I want to send this film to someone who is working on a documentary project, preferably someone who struggles with funding, and who will be significantly helped by some free film. If you're interested, post a link to your project in the comments section of this post. You have until October 15, 2009. Shortly thereafter, I will contact the winner and make arrangements, and then post the results here on the blog.
There's probably a host of disclaimers I should post, but I'll leave it at this: By posting your project, you open yourself up to all kinds of criticism, including mine, and I reserve the right to say whatever I want. Also, if you win the film and don't use it, pass it on in a similar manner. Finally, I'm not going to define "documentary," "project," or "funding." You know what I'm talking about.
Feel free to spread this news as widely as you want. I'm no Ken Rockwell, but I have a modest readership, and the entrants and winner will benefit from the coverage. Thanks.
***UPDATED GUIDELINES!!!
1 - If you don't have something ready to post, please don't post saying you don't have something ready. Get it ready! You've got till October 15, and Flickr is free!
2 - If you're wondering what kind of work I like, take a look around the blog and my site (links to the right). A hint is that I'm less concerned about things that are pretty and safe (old barns, landscapes) and more interested in things that are scary and ugly (people). This doesn't mean you can't document inanimate objects, but it means you should connect them somehow to humanity.
21 September 2009
Found: American Flag
It's been raining for days. Yesterday we passed this on I-40:
I can't stand to see a flag in the rain. Call me sentimental all you want. And I'm sure whoever tied it there meant well. But the forecast said--and still says--that there is no end in sight. So I cut it down.
Now what do I do with it? It is dirty, and the hem is unraveled in a few spots. According to etiquette, an "unserviceable" flag should be "destroyed in a dignified manner, preferably by burning." But this is a big flag, and I live across the street from a huge Baptist church that routinely holds veterans' ceremonies. In Asheville. If I walk out in my yard and torch this thing, someone will think I'm protesting something.
Or I could wash it and try to mend it. It was once a nice flag. Any ideas?
I can't stand to see a flag in the rain. Call me sentimental all you want. And I'm sure whoever tied it there meant well. But the forecast said--and still says--that there is no end in sight. So I cut it down.
Now what do I do with it? It is dirty, and the hem is unraveled in a few spots. According to etiquette, an "unserviceable" flag should be "destroyed in a dignified manner, preferably by burning." But this is a big flag, and I live across the street from a huge Baptist church that routinely holds veterans' ceremonies. In Asheville. If I walk out in my yard and torch this thing, someone will think I'm protesting something.
Or I could wash it and try to mend it. It was once a nice flag. Any ideas?
20 September 2009
19 September 2009
18 September 2009
The Un-Lucky Conclusion (SAD261)
SAD261 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 28/f2.8 AF-D :: Lucky SHD 100 New :: 2009
Here is the true bi-polar nature of Lucky SHD 100 New: The photo is ridiculously under exposed, but the highlights are still dangerously close to blown. The grain is course, and the easily-scratched emulsion isn't very sharp to begin with. Furthermore, there are fun little defects that are easy to correct in a digital workflow, but would make you tear your hair out in a darkroom.
On the other hand, it is film. Which is far better than no film. But my original test was not flawed; perhaps it wasn't as serious and thorough as some would like, but I hold that if you need MTF charts and color wheels to tell you a film is bad, you might be over-thinking things a bit.
Good images transcend their media, but shouldn't a responsible journalist choose the best media within his reach? Aren't the images worth it?
I'm going to make a big print of that photo, because I love it. And I'll probably keep shooting the rest of my free brick of Lucky film. But after that, it's back to Delta 100. Life is too short and too sweet, and its highlights are too few and far between to lose them in the glare.
17 September 2009
Un-Lucky at the Waterfalls (SAD260)
SAD260 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 28/f2.8 AF-D :: Lucky SHD 100 New :: 2009
I thought I had called it off with Lucky SHD 100 New. It just wasn't working. I didn't want to be friends. We needed a clean break. But there was one problem: She was cheap.
So when my wife found out about Lucky, she wasn't so adverse to the idea. I mean, sure, it was awkward at first, especially when I told her that Lucky was the kind of girl that doesn't even wear an anti-halation layer. But pretty soon we were all getting along fine, albeit with a little less self-esteem.
It's a double edge sword: We were going to the waterfalls on Labor Day, and we wanted pictures. Odds were it would rain, or the light would be bad, or I'd fall down a bank, or we'd leave the cameras in the car out of laziness. In those cases, why use expensive film? Lucky was free.
But then, when you actually get there, and the light is perfect, and the day is perfect, and the photos are perfect, you kick yourself for bringing cheap film.
So I threw the rolls in the drawer until I could run some more tests, and I came up with this: The film looks passable--not good, but passable--if it's shot at ISO 200 and under-developed by a full minute.
So, critics, you were partly right. The film isn't all bad, it's just misunderstood. On the other hand, there's really no reason to use it unless you're on a desert island and a crate of it washes ashore. Or you're really broke, but instead of trying to make money, you like to try varying development procedures for cheap film. Either way.
16 September 2009
Un-Lucky in the Boneyard (SAD259)
SAD259 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 28/f2.8 AF-D :: Lucky SHD 100 New :: 2009
For our second date, I took Lucky to the Boneyard. Here, our relationship got tumultuous. I bracketed each shot by two stops: One over and one under. As if that weren't moving fast enough for a second date, I then used a red filter to see if I could make it to first base and get some "separation" in the "highlights."
I was especially interested in white marble gravestones, because my main issue with the film was the compressed highs. I spot-metered the marble and compensated to place it at Zone VII. What follows are the only usable shots from the roll: Those shot one stop under, without the red filter. In all the other shots, the stones are so dense you can't discern detail.
I don't want to rush things, but I might be drawing some conclusions here. I know a film speed test and three rolls of terrible, terrible pictures can't really tell you much about a film, so I don't want to really make a value judgement or anything, but I think that Lucky and I might be incompatible. It's not Lucky, it's me. I just need some space.
But things are never that simple . . .
15 September 2009
Un-Lucky Downtown (SAD258)
SAD258 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 28/f2.8 AF-D :: Lucky SHD 100 New :: 2009
More "getting to know you" shots on Lucky Film. We had a good time, but I was starting to suspect she might be a little "high maintenance." Stay tuned for the shocking conclusion . . .
14 September 2009
Un-Lucky (SAD257)
SAD257 :: Nikon F100 :: Nikkor 28/f2.8 AF-D :: Lucky SHD 100 New :: 2009
I took some heat for my review of the Chinese import film, Lucky SHD 100 New. And I mean really hot heat, like the kind where people ask for your credentials and stuff. I had to show them my photography license and everything.
Seriously, though, I'm a bit concerned that so many of my readers take me seriously. I know that's the opposite concern that most bloggers have, but after the Leica M9 fiasco, I'm beginning to wonder if I should put tags on each post to indicate whether or not I really mean it. I mean, I always really mean it, except when I don't. Know what I mean?
I don't want to clutter things up with more tags; it might ruin the look of my Google ads. Plus, sometimes I really mean it and don't really mean it in the same post. So, for now, here's a rule of thumb: If I use the phrase "Photography is [blank]," I really mean it. But if I use a phrase like "[blank] is for sissies," that's a good indication that I might be using a little-known rhetorical device called satire. Let's try it.
Long story short, [Long stories "are for sissies"] there were some concerns that my review of the film might unduly discourage folks from using it. Furthermore, my testing procedure was called dastardly words like "unscientific" and "flawed," and hints were made that my conclusions might be "erroneous." Further testing was needed to determine if the out-of-production, $1.00-per-roll gray market Chinese film was indeed "bad." I should shoot many rolls to "get to know" the film; take it out, buy it a nice dinner, and talk about its feelings.
Alright, serious moment ["Photography is" very serious]: A film speed test is not meant to determine the true worth of a film, only its actual ISO. Any commentary posted about this or any film is strictly the opinion of some guy on the internet. You shouldn't listen to me. Test the film yourself.
So, in an effort to truly discover [True discovery "is for sissies"] the value of Lucky 100 SHD New, I took it downtown. There was some confusion about whether we should go dutch on the first date, but after that, we got along well.
I developed ["Photography is" nicely developed] it according to the Massive Developing Chart: Eight minutes in XTOL 1:1.5 at 20*C. I agitated constantly and gently for the first thirty seconds, and then gently inverted the tank three times at thirty second intervals for the duration of the development.
More results to come in the next few SAD posts . . .
13 September 2009
Unpublished Blog Fragments
Don't tread on my lighting (19Dec07)
The road to hell is paved with good intentions. So, they ban the incandescent bulb. Those of you who know me personally can probably already guess how I feel about it, and I won't burden a photo blog with un-related ideas, but this is about light:
Do you ever see fluorescent lights in mall stores? Jewelry shops? Music stores? No. Why not? Because incandescent bulbs look better. The light is warmer, more flattering. I worked in a music store for four years, and I can tell you that the lighting literally sold those guitars.
Today I was sitting in my car (3Mar08)
Today I was sitting in my car in the Subway parking lot, and a fire truck went by at about 100 mph. This is the mating call for photographers. So I chased it, and came over the hill and saw a horizon full of smoke. Flames 30 feet tall, an entire mountain top scorched. Of course, I had no camera.
That's ok. I've been thinking a lot the past few days about photography and its
Why Photography > Art (17Apr08)
Yale Artists Paints with Blood of Her Own Aborted Fetuses (Later debunked)
"Artist" starves a dog to death as a work of art
Guillotine in XTOL (6Mar08)
The road to hell is paved with good intentions. So, they ban the incandescent bulb. Those of you who know me personally can probably already guess how I feel about it, and I won't burden a photo blog with un-related ideas, but this is about light:
Do you ever see fluorescent lights in mall stores? Jewelry shops? Music stores? No. Why not? Because incandescent bulbs look better. The light is warmer, more flattering. I worked in a music store for four years, and I can tell you that the lighting literally sold those guitars.
Today I was sitting in my car (3Mar08)
Today I was sitting in my car in the Subway parking lot, and a fire truck went by at about 100 mph. This is the mating call for photographers. So I chased it, and came over the hill and saw a horizon full of smoke. Flames 30 feet tall, an entire mountain top scorched. Of course, I had no camera.
That's ok. I've been thinking a lot the past few days about photography and its
Why Photography > Art (17Apr08)
Yale Artists Paints with Blood of Her Own Aborted Fetuses (Later debunked)
"Artist" starves a dog to death as a work of art
Guillotine in XTOL (6Mar08)
12 September 2009
11 September 2009
A little bit of self defense (Leica M9, part III)
Not surprisingly, my Leica M9 posts (here and here) have not made me many friends. It's almost like I deliberately insulted everybody's favorite camera to gin up traffic for my blog! Glad I'd never stoop that low.
But I was a little confused at the comments on this thread at AusPhotography. Allow me to retort.
"Sounds like someone can't focus." . . .
"That, and wrong camera for the job. (His complaint about the FM2 action shots in poor conditions with 100 ASA film )"
First, let's see your hand-held, low-light work with moving subjects. Second, you're exactly right. It was the wrong camera for the job. That was the whole point of the post. And that the M9 would also be the wrong camera for the job, but at nearly 100 times the expense.
"Just because a camera is 'great' or 'more expensive' does not qualify it for 'great in all circumstances.'"
So . . . you're saying this in defense of the M9?
"Wow, what a tool. Sounds like someone who relies too much on the camera taking the photo for him."
I really don't know what to say to this, other than to point out that upwards of 80% of my recent exhibited photos have been taken with manual focus, manual-exposure cameras. Many times using an ambient meter, or judging the light by experience.
I'm to a point in my
But to respond to the point, if I spent seven G's on a camera body, I'd sure as hell expect it to take the photo for me.
Thanks for reading.
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