Yesterday was a rather dismal WPPD here in England with heavy rain and light levels more associated with mid-Winter than mid-Spring, but it is always enjoyable to participate knowing that thousands of others are doing the same, some in groups, some alone. I have been mulling over a few ideas for weeks now on attempting to depict time and impermanence through a new set of images - I must admit I often wish I was drawn to more straightforward subjects! - and WPPD seemed a good time to start.

I was aiming to play around with the movement of a pen across paper, with the text becoming fainter as the writing slowly advanced. The first challenge proved to be estimating the speed at which to write. Also I needed to decide when to stop writing but let the exposure run in order to retain some faint but legible impression of the words written towards the end of the piece.

I opted to include a clock to add to the feel of passing time, knowing that the hour hand would remain sharp while the minute hand would smear through the minutes of the exposure. What I didn't anticipate was how physically difficult it is to write so slowly. Before more than two minutes had elapsed the muscles in my back and hand were tense and painful to such an extent the my handwriting became shaky. Having to fit myself around the tripod made things awkward, of course, but I was taken aback at how exhausting the apparently undemanding task of writing twelve lines could be. To make the process more arduous, the desperately low light intensity stretch the exposure way beyond what I thought would be necessary.



A final complication presented itself in the film stock used - Polaroid type 55 which expired in 1998, already slow at ISO 25 and probably slowed further by its age. (Certainly, the contrast and the smoothness of the developer of this beautiful but ancient film seems to have deteriorated since I last exposed a sheet a few months ago.) I attempted three exposures: the first was ruined completely when the developer sachet failed to burst in processing leaving a completely blank negative; the second worked but was poorly aligned and the transition time of the hand moving was too slow; the third 15 minute exposure gave an acceptable but imperfect printable negative (though barely, due to the very low contrast). I had by now run out of time and daylight was fading so I retreated to the darkroom to make a print.

In between washes, I helped my daughter Emma make her own pinhole image using a body cap on a digital SLR. After a bit of technical help I left her to her own devices and she came back a few minutes later, delighted with what she had come up with.



By now I was losing enthusiasm for the battle with old materials in difficult conditions. When I looked at her superb photograph next to mine, I did feel slightly uncomfortable to observe that I had made things far too difficult for myself by misjudging the prevailing conditions and sticking pig-headedly to the "traditional" route when some quick digital work would have made the day far more fun. I am not done with the idea yet but it will wait for a fresh surge of enthusiasm and good light.

I haven't entered for a couple of years but decided to re-work and submit a few of my pinhole images which I felt might do well in this high-profile and usually stimulating exhibition. I was pleased to hear this week that one of my images was selected out of the 2800 entries.

The process of choosing what to select led me to re-scan the paper negatives. Each time I do this a learn a little more about how to get the most out of the negative. By scanning at a higher resolution and by carefully controlling the values in the heavy areas I was able to get far more out of this image than from previous attempts. I also chose to crop as a square to work the composition better with the curves of the reflections in the water.

The version here is the newer and better of the two.



The one below is my initial "quick" scan.

A catalogue of my images from the Edinburgh Pinhole Photography Festival is now available from my online bookstore.

It comprises thirty-eight pages showing all eleven images plus an additional section with photographs and technical information on paper negatives, cameras, materials and studio set ups. The purchase price is £7.99.

To preview or purchase, click the image below:

The festival exhibition at the beautiful Botanic gardens venue is now open and runs for the next two weeks. This excellent video by Alexandra Wingate of Edinburgh Napier University gives a flavour of what to expect.

Pinhole Photography Festival launched today from edinburghnapiernews on Vimeo.

Coming up in March is the Edinburgh Pinhole Photography Festival featuring work from Minnie Weisz, Justin Quinnell, Katie Cooke, Kenny Bean, Bethany de Forest and myself as well as beginners' and advanced workshops and open darkroom sessions. The event runs from 5-17 March 2012 at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Edinburgh.

More details available at the festival website www.pinholephotographyfestival.co.uk

A couple of weeks ago I spent a day at the Leicester Print Workshop learning the fundamentals of solar plate photo etching. The photos here show a print made shortly afterwards using my own press. This is much more prosaic and less stylish than the huge, gorgeous Harry Rochat press at the workshop but has given some excellent results. In fact I found the prints to be equally as good as those made on the big press. Surprisingly the Akua Intaglio water-based inks I use produced far superior, deeper blacks than the oil-based ink used on the course.

This is such a beautiful, tangible method of printing. The smell of the ink, the texture of the paper, the weight of the plate in the hand whilst inking and wiping, the turning of the press handle, the scope for altering the mood of the print by over or under inking. the sensitivity required to produce a correctly balanced print: all these elements make this a fascinating and viscerally engaging process.


The plate after removal of the print.


The resulting print on cartridge paper.


Detail of the print corner showing the tonality achievable from an aquatint=screened (but not half-toned) plate.

A favourite book photographed by a favourite 10x8 pinhole camera using a favourite medium - paper negative.

Paper negatives often surprise in the amount of detail and tone they are capable of reproducing. Of course, their inherent slowness also gives a beautifully extended exposure which allows one to not only render effects of movement and stillness but also to fully enjoy the moment of the creation of the photograph. Quite the opposite of the drive-by-shooting, hit-and-run type approach that the speed and ease of modern digital electronics can so easily engender. I had some concerns about the result I might get from this particular batch of paper which had been pre-flashed several months earlier and left unused. My normal, somewhat untechnical and fatalistic approach of experimentation and acceptance of total failure produced quite unexpectedly good tonal negatives! It has also answered a long-standing but untested doubt about how much paper can be pre-flashed in a preparation session. I feel happy now that making larger batches of negatives is viable.

Ilford Multigrade resin-coated satin paper preflashed.

Earlier this year I spent a week at the coast, the Welsh west coast which with each visit feels more like home. One warm, sunny evening I packed a sleeping bag and a stove and headed for a remote, inaccessible beach to spend the night alone under the starry Spring sky. It was necessary to pick the evening with care to fit with the rhythm of the tides which with an almost 6 metre range at that time of year left precious little beach between the surf and the cliff at its daily peak. The night I chose to make my home on the beach high tide came at around 11pm and, although I had checked the tide tables many times, I still waited a little nervously, watching the stars and listening to the alternate sibilance and bass of the incoming waves, half expecting an unusually large surge to swamp my tiny encampment.

Before nightfall I wandered up and down the undercliff seeking out driftwood and jetsam for a campfire but strangely for me I felt the disturbance of fire to be inappropriate on such a peaceful, sun-bathed evening. As I strolled across the smooth, hard sand at the edge of the surf it struck me that I would no more dream of lighting a fire here than I would in the nave of a great cathedral, that in some respect I was here on sufferance, a welcome guest; a guest with the responsibility of the pilgrim.

As the light faded, I lay on my back listening to the music of the ocean; the stereophonic symphony of deep booms from the sea cave to my right, and the higher, splashy, sweep of waves running up the sandy expanse to my left. A sound track to the dazzling vista of the Milky Way overhead with the familiar and reassuring constellations: Cassiopeia, The Great Bear, Auriga, Gemini. In my peripheral vision the soaring cliffs behind me framed the sky and stars and linked the just visible sea-horizon with the land mass I felt beneath my back. I lay there in an epi-centre of wonder at the vast, unfathomable beauty of the heavens, the land and the water.

I eventually drifted off to sleep, soothed by the sounds of the sea, to awake in the paleness of dawn, alone, or apparently so, on a new wave-smoothed beach. The sound track remained the same, just a little more distant now that the surf edge had retreated from the narrow strip of sand which separated the cliff from the high tide mark of flotsam, the sliver of earth which held me dry.

On rising, I noticed with a thrill of rising hackles that the beach had been recently crossed by a four-legged, clawed animal. It took a little while to work out that the prints were those of a fox and I cursed that I had not been awake to see this passing visitor. Nevertheless, amongst my store of beautiful, remembered mornings, there are few which equal the deep sense of belonging and harmony which this near meeting inspired.

Vivant!!! from TERRA de NINGÚ on Vimeo.

An excellent video of the exhibition opening night by Patri Rodriguez.

A couple of the best castings from yesterday. Much less formal and more uncontained than I envisaged, these initial attempts are encouraging. I need to find a way of casting them thinner or reducing their thickness once cast, maybe by filing (in order to make them lighter and less prominent). This will allow me then to fix them to an inlay on the book cover.

It is exciting and encouraging to see that type 55 instant film may once more be with us. The New 55 Project run by Bob Crowley is making great strides towards reproducing this sadly defunct film medium. What is more, initial tests are showing that it makes both a good print and an equally good negative. How many times have I sacrificed one for the other in the past and now having one's cake and eating is a distinct possibility!

More information and latest news at http://new55project.blogspot.com