Last week I attended the Digital Developing Discussion at Photo Opp. I make no apologies for using a hybrid process. Analog negatives and digital positives. There's nothing I do that doesn't have a direct analog in the darkroom. Not even things like create a base layer to return to the original scan, just do my levels, burn/dodge, color balance and dust removal and save it. I can go back in the history as long as the file is open, but can't readjust individual settings like I just found out is how Lightroom works.
But I'm curious about all these things people talk about at meetings.
Inevitably, the topics of sharpening, noise reduction and grain removal were often part of the discussion.
So I went home and loaded the 35mm Handicam with about two cubits of ISO 400 Tri-X from my vintage bulk roll. People often speak of grain like it's fundamentally evil, to be avoided at all costs, but it's inherent in the creation of an analog negative. That's how silver based photography works. Imagine somebody complaining about Da Vinci's drawings because you can see pencil marks.
On a beautiful day, I set out toward Lake Winnebago. Every year, I forget about lake fly season until I run smack into tens of thousands of them at 12 miles per hour on a narrow path on which it's hard to turn around. They look like a half-inch mosquito. They don't bite but they're a noticable mass when you ride into them. They swarm like gnats all along the lake for about 50 meters from the shore - in most years. Occasionally they cover the whole town and snow removal equipment has to be used to get them off parking lots.
The trees on Miller's Bay in all their seasonal manifestations has gotten to be sort of a continuing theme. Before I became aware of the lake flies, I photographed this blossoming crab, more on the north end of the bay than my usual viewpoint.
As I fled inland, flowering trees were on my mind after that first exposure. I kept noticing their individuality and in the early morning sunshine, they were often highlighted against a shady background. Spring flowering trees. What a great theme for grainy black and white photographs!
Grove Street is safely a few blocks away from the lake. Pointing at peoples' houses is something I usually avoid, but from our experience with the magnolia in front of our house, it's not unusual for folks to stop to take a picture of your flowering tree. I stayed on the sidewalk, but put the tripod as far onto the lawn as I could reach.
A more bushy variety at the end of a driveway a few doors down,
At the end of Oak Street, a crabapple skewered by a street lamp in the parking lot of Bella Vista, formerly Mercy Hospital.
Across the parking lot, a particularly asymetrical example.
Possibly the most modest house on posh Washington Avenue seems to be protected from my prying pinhole by these two crabs.
Farther down Washington, the walk is bordered by a neatly trimmed short hedge and flanked by crabapples of different shades of grey.
Across the street, two more, of different albedos, flank a power pole.
A trio in front of the Oshkosh Public Library.
Some terraced planting around the library.
Flowering trees contrast well in front of stone walls.
A rookie, planted just last year when they redid the parking lot.
In front of the hotel, formerly a Best Western, now being converted to a Marriot.
A low display mirroring the aspect ratio of the single story Chamber of Commerce.
A row along the edges of the relatively new Washington Square.
A lilac in front of the historic Airbnb Doe House.
No flowers, but leaves of a range of exposure values. As I was waiting for the sun to come back from behind a cloud, a young man walking by asked "Pinhole?" "Yes" I replied. "Awesome!"
Next to the Mercury Marine Lab.
This tree had one branch that was much brighter than the rest.
While waiting for the sun again for a flowering bush on campus, I noticed the historic-looking street lights were framed in a gap in the clouds, which it seems I didn't quite capture.
The roll turned out to be 20 exposures, just like they used to sell Tri-X in before the mid-70's.
The handmade Handicam has a hand-drilled .15mm pinhole 24mm from a 24x36mm frame. The film is 40 year old Kodak Tri-X semistand developed in Rodinal 1:100.
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