Friday, June 19, 2026

World Stereoscopy Day: Close Six-String Encounters in the Third Dimension

World Stereoscopy Day, founded by the Brian May Archive of Stereoscopy, occurs on June 21 each year, the anniversary of Sir Charles Wheatstone's presentation on Stereoscopy to the Royal Society in 1838. This is my fifth year participating.

The idea for this year's World Stereoscopy Day project developed in my brain last winter after I had my Ventura guitar renovated and took some gorgeous close-up pictures of it.  One of my previous efforts for Stereoscopy Day was inspired by the same guitars. Go figure. Interplanetary dust or hedgehogs would be a tough assignment for pinhole.


One of the critical parameters of stereo photography is the baseline between the optical centers of the images. Because it mimics the separation of human eyes, 60mm is the most commonly used. But for some things, like comets and extreme close-ups, you may have to use a longer or shorter baseline.

I have seen references in the past that the minimum distance that the brain will allow the merger is 30 times the baseline. This is probably about as reliable as much common wisdom on the internet. My experience suggests that you can get away with much closer subjects, particularly with wide-angle cameras, which are unheard of in lensed stereo photography, but are de rigeur in the pinhole community.

Using 6x6cm negatives, obviously you can't have a two-chamber camera with a less than 60mm baseline.

Using the Cha-Cha method, moving a single camera between images, you can make the baseline anything you want.  I've successfully done this both for macro and narrow-angle-distant applications. My close-up experience was with 24x36mm negatives, with a 10mm baseline and 100mm distance. From those guitar images that inspired this project, I knew that was about where I wanted to put the camera.

I chose The Little Mutant at moderate wide-angle 45mm, 68-degree angle of view, more to make it easier to control the background than for any stereo or pinhole convention.

In the previous experiments, I just used a ruler to slide a desktop tripod the right distance between exposures, but since have since gotten a K&J travel tripod which came with a measuring scale on the quick-release clamp. I can't think of any other use than stereoscopy for this to be there. Moving the camera precisely and winding the film was easy. Pro tip: Don't kick the tripod or subject between exposures.

There's a lot of discussion about the goal to be able to comfortably view a stereograph. These might take a little concentration, but once locked into 3D, I can hold them without strain. Remember you have to focus back and forth to look at near and far parts of the image.

There are three common ways to view stereographs. In line here, they will be set up for Crossed Eye Viewing, which needs no additional equipment. Crossing your eyes makes a double image. When you make the two inner images overlap in the middle, and focus on some element in the scene, it pops into three dimensions. Here's a link to an exercise that might help to learn this. 

Also displayed here are red/blue anaglyphs, which, of course, you need appropriate glasses for (see my profile picture). I'm really no expert at this, and in a few of these I wasn't able to get them aligned to eliminate ghosting, especially on the closest elements. I may have discovered the secret of that 1:30 distance ratio.

For Parallel Viewing or printing for a classic Holmes Stereo Viewer, click here for a PDF.


The inspiration for this all was my shiny, renovated, lawsuit-era Ventura clone of a relatively rare Gibson L6S. One improvement was to replace the chrome tuners that weren't working great with new black ones. I cut the Japanese character Kuro out of matte vinyl for a headstock ornament, which is just barely visible.




All the replacements for the original tuners, whether black or chrome, had economy somewhere in the description. Luthier Matt Hayes modified the head for some name-brand Kluson machines.






The chrome-covered pickups had a slightly dented surface that bothered me and didn't sound all that great. You can really tell where the cloners saved the money to sell inexpensive guitars. Those got replaced by Seymour Duncan Black Winter Blackened Matte Black humbuckers, which sound really cool. The neck was straightened and completely refretted. I've gotten up to that 20th fret with the dot jamming in Hortonville.





The tailpiece stop bar and Tune-o-Matic bridge are indistinguishable from their Gibson counterparts and remain as the legacy of the craftspeople at the Kaman Industries factory in Japan. I suppose they already had the machining done for the expensive guitars, so just used the same parts.








The original electronics remain in the guitar. It sounds great, but YouTube makes me think they may need an upgrade. With the six-way pickup selector, it's hard to tell what's supposed to be controlling things.





My original antifascist machine from the late sixties - another clone of a Gibson, this time of a Hummingbird, by Alvarez, another American brand made in a Japanese factory.






An authentic Warlock from the original American company - an NJ (Nagoya Japan) Series with its optional, distinctive Widow headstock. This one was made in a Korean factory, though.






Classically outfitted for metal dives with a locking Floyd Rose Bridge, although I never use the whammy bar.




A pick-holder mini-clone of a Marshall amplifier with my classic, made-in-California Fender Telecaster, and my latest favorite Fender product, the Mojo Grip. The recent controversy of Fender's venture into the lawsuit business against high-end strat-style makers reminds me of AT&T, when they realized that Bell Labs and market-leading network technologies weren't as profitable as paying legislators to prevent competition by public research universities. Fender made some legendary guitars under some of the brand's business plans.






The Little Mutant has two hand-drilled .27mm pinholes on the axis and 13mm above it, 45mm from a 6x6cm frame. The film is Kentmere 400 semistand developed in Rodinal 1:100.

Gloria in excelsis pinhole.

I've recently been involved in a few workshops and an interview where the question "Why pinhole?" was discussed. The answer always boils down to some version of "Can you believe these photographs were done with something I made with my bare hands on my kitchen table with tools and materials you can find around most homes? Just an empty box with a little hole in it? On film I developed at home?" It never gets old.

Thanks again to Rebecca, Denis and Brian for putting on the World Stereoscopy Day party.

Monday, May 25, 2026

Well-seasoned 20th-century film.



In negotiations with Photo Opp about compensation for conducting a workshop, I cleverly got them to agree to give me a sealed, five-roll box of 220 format Kodak Pro 400 MC, which I knew was in their freezer.

It had expired in November 2000. I've used quite a bit of outdated film, some another decade older than this. My general impression is that it's fine. It may be a little slower, maybe lower contrast, and might exhibit some color shift. You could correct those changes printing with the right filter pack (which would be expensive to experiment with). It's pretty simple with digital color editing tools.

Included in the box was an ad for Kodak's new series of professional color films, Portra. There was a table recommending which of the new films to replace the Pro 400 MC with - Portra 400 NC, which happens to be the film I previously had used last year in 220 format, which was discontinued in 2011 and wasn't even in the foil wrapper when I got it. 

The professional 220 format gives 24 6x6cm exposures, twice the normal 120 format. In order to squeeze that much film on the same reel, there is no opaque backing paper, so your camera has to be particularly light-tight. I had completely lined my Morton camera with old backing paper to accommodate that.

That also means no numbers to tell where you are. Those previous experiments led me to advance the take-up one and a quarter turns for the first 8 pictures, one and an eighth for 9-16, and a single turn for the last third, measured by a white dot on the winder.  (The circumference increases as you put more film on the take-up reel.) That worked great. The full 24 pictures and no overlap. I kept track in a little notebook.


I rated it at ISO 200, but I wasn't any more careful about timing the exposures than I usually am. 

The contrast mask on the negatives is a little darker than usual and almost purple rather than the orange base most color films exhibit. Is that the age of the film or a feature of professional color films? The scanner software didn't have any trouble bringing me close to the right color, although I'm not too worried about correct color as long as it's not too distracting. Most of the exposures done in daylight haven't had any color correction at all. Despite the need to pack all that film on the same reel, it's got a substantial film base and the negatives dried flat enough to get in the scanner without tape.




Trying to expose for the shadowed side in the morning, this blossoming crab got pretty overexposed. Like most fast films, it gets noticeably more grainy when it's overexposed.



Testing out the blues with just touch of green and gold.



Combining daylight and incandescent.



Looks like an Orange amp to me.



The Toad Witch surveys the dining room. Most of this was incandescent balanced LEDs and the film responded as warmly as you might expect for daylight film.



The white crabapple in the back.


The pink crabapple next to it.



Thorns and ribbons to keep them out of my hair.




Some shadows under the hydrangea.



Under the lilies of the valley.



The Wisconsin State Wildflower.



Abstraction with weeds, hay under netting and crumbling asphalt, in the front of the house.



A dazzling display by the lilacs.


New white equipment is a good test of the color balance.



The loveseat, enlightened by a sunbeam and literature.



Another very warm response to warm white LEDs.



Out to the lake again, overexposing another eastern sky in the morning.



The overexposed, less detailed background, blurred by the wind, gives a good impression of shallow depth of field.



Foreboding sky over Menomonee Drive.




Behind Oshkosh.




I've always thought this church was odd because of its almost square footprint with the entrance on the corner. I never realized it had the indentation on this side.



In one of my previous experiences testing whether a bunch of old film was worth using, I used flat, grey architectural elements to assess color accuracy. Have I mentioned recently that my camera has a square format?



As part of their "Community Oriented Policing" effort, the small storefront at 101 Algoma, just across from Opera Square, has been occupied by the Oshkosh Police. I thought about doing a picture if no one was there, but when I saw this K9 officer surveilling the area, I went ahead and took my chance. The two human officers never looked up from their computers.



In the only other time I got 24 exposures from a roll of 220 film, the last frame was severely cropped by the end of the roll. I didn't want to put any effort into that last picture, so I decided to make it easy and document my Wisconsin bona fides wearing shorts and sandals in 65-degree F temperatures. 


Looks like I can use the other four rolls without concern, and there's another box back at Photo Opp.

Morton has two hand-drilled .25mm pinholes, on the axis and 11mm above it, 30mm from a 6x6cm frame. The film was developed in a Cinestill powder C-41 kit. Paterson adjustable-width reels are designed to take 36-exposure 35mm rolls, so there's no problem getting the long roll loaded.

Tuesday, May 5, 2026

A Statistically Odd Cluster of Events

My calendar is generally an expanse of blank squares with an event every week or so. A statistically rare cluster occurred recently, with a week of daily events, two on some days.

The first was the formal installation ceremony of the new Chancellor of the University. When I got the invitation to retirees to march in the academic procession, I casually asked Sarah if she knew where my robe and hood were. She knew exactly where, but it took some digging into the deepest corner of the closet to get them. I never marched at commencement while I was working (I used to do the PA and record the speeches in my youth). It sounded like an odd experience to try. I even wore a suit that I had only worn previously to pose for a picture. I was skeptical I would be able to take any pictures, but ya never know. Fast Portra 800 went into the piercing gaze of the EyePA 30.

Some of my robed former colleagues probably would have been willing to pose, but not without drawing considerable attention to myself. However, after we had stood ready for the procession for ten minutes with another five to go, I asked permission to step out of line to get a photograph.



Immediately following was a public reception. The offerings were not bad for food service catering. Most of this exposure was taken up explaining to the fellow in the green shirt what I was doing - a biology prof, maybe. I had to end the exposure when I smacked the camera, gesturing.



I joined my Art Historian friend, and she introduced me to the Gallery Director, who teaches History of Photography. As we talked about Julia Margaret Cameron and our feelings about working in the darkroom, I pointed the camera and opened the shutter. She watched me and didn't mention it until the exposure was over.



I don't think Chancellor Singh chose the narrow, dark passageway to greet visitors; he probably just got stopped there, and people piled up to talk to him. There wasn't going to be any better opportunity. Maybe I would at least get his brilliant golden turban floating in a misty crowd. It turned out that most of the moving well-wishers in dark coats didn't reflect much light, or stay long enough to block it, leaving the stationary Chancellor relatively well rendered.



U Club occurred later that night, but I also had to take a guitar out to Heid Music, and forgot the camera.




The next night was University Open Mic night. Here's my entire set. Pretty strange bunch of highlights from the few remaining bits of chrome hardware on my guitar.



The next day was the weekly underground jam in Hortonville. I made an exposure, but it was ruined by an accidentally opened shutter while trying to haul a guitar, amp and tripod around at the same time.

That evening, a three-session planning event for the Oshkosh Area School District began, which I was triggered into attending by the current political climate. Everyone who registered was sorted into tables to include a broad range of voices in each group. Mine included a high school art teacher, a middle school principal, a mid-sized business owner, a parent of students, a retired education professor I had sat on many committees with, and a retired school bus driver. 



It took place in the large multi-purpose space at the front of the new Menomonee Elementary School. Every effort was made to highlight the achievements of students. During registration and while we ate the contributions of local restaurants, the High School Polka Band played. For an inevitable team-building pep activity, we all stood up and clapped along to a public education-themed parody of a polka, which we were reassured had no reference to beer. In the back corner of the room, I tried to take the opportunity to hold the desktop tripod above them against a column, which kept slipping around. I quit when I noticed the shutter had come open for most of the attempt.


I gotta increase the drag on those shutters, i.e., slide a bit more cardboard behind them.

The music the next evening was provided by the High School Jazz Band. There was a spot for the tripod on a table right in front of the band, and an explanation for the surprised woman whose shoulder appears at the right.



Then a two-day break with no place to go. Oh, that magic feeling.

No high school band on Saturday morning for the final session of the school planning event. I had been outed with my pinhole cameras during a discussion on the Arts, so I brought the full-size tripod.



Tables were combined for the final deliberations. It was a very interesting event. I was rather surprised that MAGA didn't appear at all. Critical thinking and evaluation of evidence, and diversity, inclusion and equity were prominent themes. There was an emphasis on private-public partnerships, not only for internships and learning opportunities, but also to fund special facilities and programs, which our businessman participant said they were eager to do. Wouldn't it be easier just to pay some taxes and let everybody decide what to do with it?


My calendar is completely clear now, including basement band practice skipping a week, but back at it with a workshop in Wausau in two weeks. During all this interaction with other humans, I got to talk with a lot of people about Pinhole Photography and how a volunteer might get involved doing it with students, at the University, the school district and the Boys' and Girls' Club. I hope someone follows up.

The EyePA 30 has two .23mm hand-drilled pinholes, on the axis and 11mm above it, 30mm from a 6x6cm frame. The Kodak Portra 800 was developed in a Cinestill powder C41 kit.