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Photography

Week 12 | 52 Rolls in 52 Weeks - Youth In Focus

One of the most rewarding volunteer experiences this year was the two quarters I mentored young people in photography at Youth In Focus. Founded by Walter Bodle , the mission of Youth In Focus reads is:

to empower urban youth, through photography, to experience their world in new ways and to make positive choices for their lives.

For six hours a week I had the privilege of working with some of the brightest, most thoughtful, creative, and talented people (not just youth) I've ever known. I honestly believe I learned more from them then they learned from me. I could go on and on about what these students mean to me and how they've improved my skill in photography and my outlook on life, but I'll suffice it to say that I emerged from this experience a much better person and much more skilled artist. Thanks to all the wonderful people who make this program what it is.

Chris creating video clips for a project he is doing for Youth In Focus. Kate Burnley mentored with me in the Beginning Black and White class. I really love the work she does in and out of the classroom. Check out her site. Image created with Leica …

Chris creating video clips for a project he is doing for Youth In Focus. Kate Burnley mentored with me in the Beginning Black and White class. I really love the work she does in and out of the classroom. Check out her site. Image created with Leica M6 + Ilford HP5+.

The end of quarter show where the students display their work to their friends and family. This is the show everybody works towards.

The end of quarter show where the students display their work to their friends and family. This is the show everybody works towards.

Trina Gadsden, Executive Director of Youth In Focus (black dress), looks on proudly as the students individually present their work.

Trina Gadsden, Executive Director of Youth In Focus (black dress), looks on proudly as the students individually present their work.

Week 11 | 52 Rolls in 52 Weeks - White Pines at the Whidbey Institute

The White Pines cutting ceremony at The Whidbey Institute was a special day for me. About a month before this day took place, I was attending the Whidbey Island Bioneers. The Bioneers event was the first time I visited Whidbey Island. I found it to be a truly special place as there is something here that is generative, calm, and restful. It's a great place not only to relax and reflect, but to grow, build appreciations, and recharge.

During one of the sessions, Gabriel Shirley recognized that two of the White Pines, due to disease, were becoming a liability and would be cut down in December. The Pines were originally planted by the founders of the Institute, and have thus been part of this environment and community, over 100 years ago when it first began.

Before making any images of these trees, I stood next to them for about half an hour, thinking about all of the life that has been affected by their presence, from the people who come in contact with them, to all of the insects, birds, disease, and other organisms that have found some sort of haven here. Only after I felt a deeper sense of meaning and appreciation did I unpack the Mamiya RB67, load up the film, and begin photographing. I chose this camera and classic film stock (Kodak Tri-X 400) because that's what would have been used when these trees were in their prime.

Image made with Mamiya RB67 with Kodak Tri-X 400 and developed in Kodak HC-110.

Image made with Mamiya RB67 with Kodak Tri-X 400 and developed in Kodak HC-110.

Image made with Mamiya RB67 with Kodak Tri-X 400 and developed in Kodak HC-110.

Image made with Mamiya RB67 with Kodak Tri-X 400 and developed in Kodak HC-110.

Image made with Mamiya RB67 with Kodak Tri-X 400 and developed in Kodak HC-110.

Image made with Mamiya RB67 with Kodak Tri-X 400 and developed in Kodak HC-110.

Image made with Mamiya RB67 with Kodak Tri-X 400 and developed in Kodak HC-110.

Update: 52 Rolls in 52 Weeks

One professional, Paolo Woods, explained the difference between analog and digital photography. "It's a bit like wine: you make the wine; then you wait a while for it to become good before you drink it. But digital images, you consume immediately." - (p. 159, Ritchin, F., After Photography)

It's been a few weeks since I've posted anything in the A Year on Film: 52 Rolls in 52 Weeks photo project, but it's not because I haven't been creating photographs. In fact, the opposite couldn't be more true. In many cases, I'm actually shooting between 2 and 3 rolls per week. The real reason I haven't posted anything very recently is because I've been waiting to develop the film. Once a take a roll of film out of the camera, I take the film and place it in the freezer for a couple of weeks. Once I have about six rolls or so, I then develop all of them at once. There are two reasons for this. The first is that I don't have to use as much chemistry when developing multiple rolls at once. Secondly, I form a deeper relationship with the images when I wait. When I take the developed film off the reel I don't feel as emotionally connected to the images that don't work and much more appreciative of the ones that do after waiting to process them. I catch myself saying, "Oh yeah, I remember that one!" which leaves me with a special feeling I don't get when I develop them immediately.

The main purpose for embarking on this project is to create a reflective environment for me to intentionally explore photography, develop a greater appreciation for it, hone my skills, and slow down. Many people have asked me if I constnatly push myself to create a better image each week than the week prior. The answer is well, kind of. As I continue to practice and learn to see, the photographs do get better. The more I shoot the more creatively I think about issues. I have several sketches of series and essays I want to produce. So, in that sense, I am striving to become more literate and expand both my abilities and appreciation in various forms of art as expression. However, it's very easy for me to turn something, that should be fun, into a job and focus more on striving for excellence and perfection than enjoying the process. I don't want that to happen here. So while creating better images is both a goal and a naturally occuring event, I am not pushing myself to the point where the stress outweighs the fun.

I feel like everyday I'm learning something new—some are from a technical perspective and some are in the way I see the world and myself. Here are some of the lessons I've learned.

I love both film and digital photography

The question almost everyone asks me is whether I like analog (film) or digital photography better. Honestly, I don't like one more than the other. They are completely different media and I think the argument about whether one is better than the other does not honor the strengths of each. There are some situations where the aesthetic qualities and the processes and equipment involved with analog photography create an image and feeling that can't be replicated digitally. Also, I don't think there is any printed photograph more beautiful than a silver gelatin black and white print on an archive quality fiber paper. However, high ISO capabilities, processing power, size, video options, speed in which we can deliver the final product, and decreasing prices allow digital photography to completely change the way we interact with images. I think an evolved conversation about film and digital could center around how we can use the strengths of both to use imagery to develop deeper questions, provide deeper insights, and create the world in which we all want to live. It's what occurs behind the oculars before and after the image is created that is most meaningful for me.

My Leica M6 loaded with Ilford Delta 400 goes with me almost everywhere.

My Leica M6 loaded with Ilford Delta 400 goes with me almost everywhere.

People in the street love film

I keep my Leica M6 on my person at almost all times when I'm in the streets and on most assignments. I have not gone a single day where at least one person hasn't stopped me in the street, coffee shop, library, or restaurant to ask me, "I'm sorry to bother you, but is that a real film camera you're wearing?" When I confirm that it is, they begin to tell me about how the favorite class they took in high school or college was photography, how they miss hanging out in the darkroom and watching the images magically appear as they are printing them, and how they long for the times when life was just a little slower. Then they thank me for keeping film alive, ask where I buy film, and say they are going to dust off their old cameras and go back out and make some photographs. I always love those exchanges. I love the ability to connect with people about something so simple and so nostalgic. And no, it's not only elders or hipsters who talk with me about film. It seems like everybody is interested.

This is one of my favorite murals in Pioneer Square, Seattle. I made this image using the Mamiya AFD II + 80mm Lens + Kodak Ektar 100 film.

This is one of my favorite murals in Pioneer Square, Seattle. I made this image using the Mamiya AFD II + 80mm Lens + Kodak Ektar 100 film.

There's something beautiful about slowing down

When I got serious about photography, I started with digital. It was what the general market was asking for and, in many ways, had fewer barriers to entry. I still appreciate digital and use it when the situation calls for it, but my preferred method of image making is to slow down, observe, wait, and use the camera as a tool for telling the story or stories. When I'm using film and mechanical cameras such as the Leica M6 or Mamiya RB67, I don't have a choice but to be completely in tune with everything around me. What are the quantity and quality of light? How fast is the scene changing? What do I need to capture in the frame to tell the story? What do I need to exclude from the frame to tell the story? Is this photograph respectful for both the subject (animate or inanimate) and the reader? Even when I use digital photography, my clients and I are much more satisfied when they receive a few well-composed, well-exposed, well-executed, and well-curated images.

I think it's great that everyone can have a camera

I love the idea that photographic equipment is within the reach of more people. First of all, I still think we are a long way off from everybody being able to have a camera, even if it's in a phone. Secondly, I think it's extremely important for a person or group of people to have the ability to play active roles in the sharing of their stories. In times not too long ago, only a select few were privileged with the ability to create photographs destined for widespread public consumption, only to be further controlled by various gatekeepers in the media. With the advent of the Internet, we no longer need the approval of a magazine, newspaper, or museum in order to publish our work. Although these media are still very important, the landscape is simply changing. There are still several obstacles that many must face, and then the ability to find an audience also separates some from others, but I think it's a wonderful thing that, increasingly, people are equipped to be both the actors and producers in their own stories.

This is a picture of Chris, a participant in the Zine Project. I gave each of the four people in this program a camera so that they could make the pictures however they wanted to. I then gathered the film, developed the rolls, scanned the negatives,…

This is a picture of Chris, a participant in the Zine Project. I gave each of the four people in this program a camera so that they could make the pictures however they wanted to. I then gathered the film, developed the rolls, scanned the negatives, and provided them with their work.

Let me know what you think on Twitter

This post is getting to be long enough for now. I'll share more experiences later. Please let me know on Twitter what you think of this piece at @michaelbmaine using the hashtag #mbm52rolls. Hope to hear from you soon.

With the Sony a7 I finally have no need for a DSLR

Image courtesy of Sony

Image courtesy of Sony

I never thought I'd say it, but with how far mirrorless cameras have come along in the past couple of years, I don't have any need for a DSLR anymore. 

A couple of months ago, I decided that I no longer needed a DSLR camera for the types of photography I do. Even when covering events, I tend to manually focus, use shorter focal lengths, and make the best use of available light rather than flash. Regardless of if I'm creating images in the street, photographing an event, or covering a story, I like to blend in with the people as much as I can. It's really hard to do that when toting a large camera and the standard 24-70 and 70-200 lenses. People would always ask, "Are you the official photographer for this?" Although, the answer was normally yes I would much rather be able to draw less attention when creating the images to share the multitudes of stories present. Also, for portraits, since I primarily use medium format film (there's something about the way film renders people) anyway, I found I wasn't really making use of the features that made a professional-grade DSLR necessary. So, I sold my Sony a99 and began looking around at some of the mirrorless cameras on the market that are more in line with my personal needs.

Just when I thought I had settled on the Olympus OMD EM-1, Sony announced the a7/r. Basically what I was looking for was a camera on which I could use my existing Leica lenses, capture great image quality, create short videos, and is weathersealed for walking around in the always-wet climate of Seattle. Both the Olympus and the Sony fit my needs pretty well, but what tipped the scales in favor of the a7 for me was the full frame sensor. For a while I've been saying, "Once somebody makes a full frame digital camera about the size of my Leica M6, shoots video, is weathersealed, and can use my existing lenses I'm all over it." I'll keep you all updated with my experiences and sample photos once the camera arrives and I have a chance to test it out.