Triggered into Manic Expression again

Once again, I've been influenced by a discussion on Photrio, formerly the Analog Photography Users Group. There was a query about the best format to start learning about pinhole. The discussion quickly narrowed to medium and large format, including what I consider a heretical statement: "One can start with 35mm, but more will be in focus than 120 or 4"x5."" (he probably meant "with" instead of "than") I'm a little offended by the dismissal of 35mm, but really dismayed by the value placed on "focus." Nothing is ever in focus in any pinhole photograph. No focusing is going on. I made an impassioned response championing the educational and expressive value of small film, which affords plentiful experimentation.

Then I loaded the mighty-mite Manic Expression Cube, with its one square inch negatives.

The first harbinger of spring.

The last bloom of the amaryllis.

The Coordinating Team for Worldwide Pinhole Photography Day—Justin Quinnell, myself, and my son Andy, the web master—appeared on the Lensless and Lo Fi Podcast with host Andrew Bartram. Andy was politely asked procedural questions about the website, but then, after patiently listening to three old men go on about their approaches to pinhole, he got the last word in with a manifesto about the meaning of Pinhole Day to the digital generation. He characterized the inherent uncertainty and lack of precision as "letting the Universe in on the process."

A rose separated from its bouquet and some whimsigoth style.

Catching the evening sunbeam again.

I had just closed the shutter when Sarah came in and said, "I guess I know what you're taking a picture of," and pointed at this very sparkly cardinal 

A dawn sunbeam on the tulips greeted me in the dining room when I came downstairs one morning.

Not unlike a pinhole camera, Leo Fender's Telecaster was designed to be as simple, practical and easy to manufacture and maintain as possible and has remained almost unchanged since 1951. I'm playing the same guitar as Bruce Springsteen and Keith Richards. 

Another in the series of the gap between Ames Point and Monkey Island. Looks like it's time for a new T-Dock.

A mother and child exploring the shore.

Another of that north inlet to Millers Bay. The geese are pretty nonchalant about traffic on the lakeshore path, but getting off the bike and setting up a tripod will make them waddle away. I braced the camera against the handlebars.




It must have been the shadows on this raised garden bed that caught my attention.

Another curious composition. The texture of the bricks is nicely rendered by the glancing light. I had just debated whether to finish a medium format roll with the mural or with the passage just out of the frame to the right. The passage won, and the little camera with the color film got the mural.

The windows in the Elsewhere Coffee Shop with all the reflections caught my eye, but after extending the tripod, I decided to wait until there was different lighting. About then, a fashionably dressed young woman came to the door and asked, "Is that a pinhole camera?" She was an analogue user as well. We conversed about the unusual nature of the small format for pinhole, and my exhibit just two blocks away at the Public Library. As she entered the building, she told me, "Keep following your passion." Thought that was a funny comment for a twenty-something to make to a septuagenarian. I had to finish taking the photograph after that. 

A tulip closeup.

The vaguely defined time some people think America was great was probably the post-WWII era, when sexism and racism were encoded into the law and capitalist imperialism was at its peak (and support for public education was universal, go figure). I checked with the World Book Encyclopedia my family got in 1956, about recent economic policy. "Both the countries levying the tariffs and the countries whose goods are prevented from entering are hurt in the process." Not exactly winning.

Chatting with Chris Dearing before the Pre-Pinhole-Day, camera-making event at Photo Opp. He brought a print by Ruth Thorne-Thomsen, who turned me on to pinhole.

Making cameras. Once again, everyone made a successful camera, including drilling an appropriately sized pinhole. We had one of those conversations about whether it might be "dreamier" to use a larger pinhole. Alex Galt came just to watch his daughter Frida make the camera, but I talked him into making one of his own. Emma Albrecht, at the right, is a designer on the team that decorates Kleenex boxes. She made her camera out of the same box as the Objet D'Art. She told me the Diversity 30's box design was a team favorite.

The next day was Worldwide Pinhole Photography Day. Char Brandis was Potions Master. Chris and his friend Matt Daniels had developed film before, but not in this century, and never 120.

Giles La Rock and Brandi Grahl were racing to see who could load the reel in the changing tents faster. Giles won and left the scene but I think I can see a hint of his beard against the door,

While the negatives dried, Char made use of the pinhole body cap I made earlier in the day.

Finally, both of us capturing the elusive Giles.

Someday I'm going to do a wet-darkroom event at Photo Opp and make contact prints, but until then, the DSLR set up with Film Lab software is really an efficient way to get a positive file.

I happened to have lunch by myself the next day. It occured to me that with my iPad to my left at a low angle, I was in the same position as Dave Bowman watching a transmission from Earth aboard The Discovery, eating with almost the same fork. This was the last frame on my film. I hope things work out better with the computer than they did for Dave.

The Manic Expression Cube has a hand-drilled .17mm pinhole mounted on an adjustable rising front with 6mm of travel, 24mm from a 24mm x 24mm frame. The film is Kodak Color Print Film 400, developed in a Cinestill powder liter C41 kit.