Creating Calm

When I'm doing my best work it typically begins with being calm and quiet enough to allow my surroundings to speak and then responding in an intuitive way. Though not my only recipe for good photographs it certainly produces the highest percentage of keepers. It can also be an exercise in restraint and good practice for dealing with other challenges.  

Exposing the above image was a perfect example. Immediately after arriving in this tranquil autumn setting the construction crew widening the nearby road showed up. While their arrival didn't affect the scene visually the mood definitely changed and I struggled to compose a picture.

In moments like this I find it helpful to focus on my routine and not the freshly broken calm, so I looked to simple advice I've heard countless times over my 23 years of photography. "If you're having trouble composing; get higher, get lower, move closer, move farther away, or change lenses." I only had a 35mm lens with me and the tiny peninsula I was on restricted my ability to move around. An exposure from full height didn't feel right so I lowered the camera to a couple of feet off the ground and found a composition that worked.

The scene required a one second exposure at f11 which wasn't long enough to blur the occasional ripple disturbing the otherwise still waters of the lake. I prefer not to fool around with filters in extremely humid and misty conditions as keeping them from fogging can be quite difficult thus ND filters were not a good solution. A bit more patience was in order as I waited and tried to time my delayed shutter release plus the one second exposure in between the randomly occurring surface disruptions.  I feel remaining calm and sticking with it payed off in the end as the resulting picture embodies the serenity I experienced when I first arrived.

Skunk Run Falls #1

I exposed this negative at about 7:30am July 4th, 2012. After hiking up the creek bed I came to this falls which is not listed on the map. I first found it on Flickr while researching some new to me areas of McConnells Mill. The water, which has been low this year, was up after a thunderstorm the night before. The weather was sunny and foggy at the same time but the dappled light had not yet made it into the ravine, which is probably 75 feet deep at this point in the run. The light was low but fairly even, I had to hold my breath under the dark cloth in order to keep the ground glass and my loupe from fogging.

I used a Toyo 45AII, Nikkor 90mm SW f4.5 and TMY2 (Tmax 400) rated at ISO 250. I metered the white water at the base of the falls, the water in the pool, the wet rock faces without flow at the bottom right and left of the falls and several of the black areas with my Pentax 1 degree spot meter to come up with my exposure. Indicated exposure was 8 seconds at f22, I added two seconds of reciprocity compensation per a list made by Lee Lumpkin  (which he compiled from Howard Bond's data). I suppose 2 seconds is negligible in this situation but I always error on the side of more exposure and thought an extra couple of seconds might help lengthen the white stripes in the wading pool a bit. I exposed two sheets of film as is my usual practice.

I have been experimenting with developing my 4x5 film in home made BTZS style tubes but instead of rolling them in water I use them upright as one would a 120 or 35mm stainless tank. I agitate for the first minute and then at the top of each minute thereafter. Agitation is by inversion. The tubes, when screwed together, hold double the amount of solution required to cover the film so each inversion causes all of the developer to leave the film and be replaced in a new position. Thus far development has been completely even, including the edges of the film.

I developed the first sheet for 15 minutes at 1:100. The shadows and midtones looked good but the white water was a little hotter than I wanted. For my second sheet I decided to increase the dilution to 1:140 to help tame the highlights and extend the development time 2 minutes to help keep the shadows up where I wanted them (all was done at 70degrees F). This negative looked great, the shadows had the same density as the first but the highlights had come down a nice amount. It was this second negative that I printed.

The print was made via contact on AGFA MCC 111 fiber paper using Ilford filters (grades 4, 5 and 1) over my old Nikkor diffusion enlarger with a 100mm lens projecting the light circle which just covers my 9x11 contact printing frame. I developed the print in PF 130 at 1:1 for two minutes. The print was then selenium toned with KRST at 1:100 for 2 minutes, this seemed to give the blacks just a bit more density.  My printing notes should be fairly clear to those familiar with MultiGrade printing techniques.  The F number refers to the aperture used and the G number to the filter grade.

Printing "Ice Form, Hell's Hollow Falls"

For those who have asked how much I manipulate my prints in the darkroom (and how I go about it) this example would be at the extreme end of the spectrum.  Or as Brett Weston would have put it, the negative was a real "bitch".  You can see a scan of the finished print HERE.  (Per requests I've added a picture of the mask I made to do some of the ice form burning.)

If Tim Burton Carved a Pumkin...

...I thought it might look a bit like this. A couple of years ago I did some work shooting leaves on my light table with a single overhead light to keep things simple. The recent rain and the passing of the Equinox and subsequent diminishing daylight hours have driven me back inside. As most of my work is found in "nature" and arranged on the ground glass, being able to move the objects I'm photographing as well as the camera has been a bit overwhelming and exciting at the same time. Of course I can't help but wonder what Edward Weston might have come up with had he more than a funnel and window light to work with when he was stuck in the studio waiting for customers... Oh, if you're wondering what exactly this is...? It's a photograph!

Alright... it's my bike helmet.

New Special Edition Print: Mill Street Bridge

My newest Special Edition Print offering was made on Memorial Day in downtown New Castle, PA. I spent the morning with a friend photographing along Slippery Rock Creek and ended up near the town square on the way home. While waiting for Scott to make an exposure I began wandering around the back alleys and found my way to a parking area next to the river. I'd never really noticed the odd relationship between the Old Mill Street Bridge and the buildings on the far shore before. The river runs underneath the bridge at an angle allowing the old department store to sit just behind the iron framework and creating a rather unusual perspective. I made two negatives, one from farther back incorporating a windblown tree into the composition but I ultimately preferred this closer interpretation... Especially the position of the 'black' and 'BINGO' windows and they way the T in brother is replaced by a giant 'T' created by the ironwork. Prints will be available for a short time at the reduced price of $50. If you've ever wanted to see or own an 8x10 contact print, this is one of my finer examples from a technical standpoint and one of my favorite compositions of the moment. You can find out more information by visiting my website.

Night in Day

A friend and I traveled to Connecticut last weekend to visit a group of fellow photographers and, of course, make some images. On Saturday during a lighting workshop in an abandoned opera house (artificial lighting and portraits in general aren't my thing...) I spent time wandering around some long empty offices downstairs. There was an incredible sense of time and a haunting light about the place which would have kept me busy for hours had I not walked into one room in particular. The office in question was empty save for a solitary broom and a smattering of paint chips which had peeled off the wall and were strewn about the floor. The floor itself was some sort of hardwood that had been scratched and stained by god knows what over the years. Somehow this combination of elements came together in a way that transcended the objects themselves and, upon closer inspection, resembled images of deep space which have captivated me since I was a boy. Exploring on the ground glass I discovered everything from giant nebulae to the chaotic mess of our own Milky Way.

Now that the negatives are developed and printed I can clearly see a progression from the more celestial photographs in my Pond Scum series and can't help but feel I've made not only a connection with that work but taken a step forward. Five years ago I never would have have traveled 12 hours only to photograph a dirty floor and now I couldn't be more thankful that I did just that. I'm also quite thankful that whoever leaned the broom against the wall never finished the job.

Rail and Bridges or A Bicycle Rode Through It

Enthusiasm for my newest work, made last week, has directed my attention away from Project Pond Scum... for the moment. This exposure was made along the Susquehanna River in Harrisburg on my way to the Onward '08 show at Project Basho. I had spent the night in a hotel a couple of miles away and woke up to rain and overcast skies. I made the best of the morning by visiting the local art museum, grabbing coffee and an apple scone at Starbucks, and photographing in a large 150 year old church downtown. I was lucky enough to be there while the organist was rehearsing, making two 9 minute exposures most enjoyable.

After observing the sun beginning to stream through the lovely and numerous stained glass windows I resolved to venture out. I made my way to the car and loaded my equipment with plans to drive to City Island. I decided I may as well take a look around the nearby riverfront area while I was there and walked about 50feet before noticing this incredibly still pool of water submerging the observation platform across the street. My view was from a far less interesting angle but I was already taken. I hurried back to grab my gear and returned to explore with the camera as quickly as I could, the sun was peeking through the clouds and rapidly burning moisture from the hazy afternoon air.

While I worked in the busy downtown area several people walked by, all avoiding the puddle. I couldn't help but wonder if they recognized what I did, or at least what I was trying to photograph, and took care not to disturb it... or whether they simply didn't want to get their feet wet. I was able to make two exposures long enough to smooth the glistening river before the sun permanently altered the scene. Still invigorated by this magical moment I hesitated to take down the camera. Moments later a bicyclist rode directly though the middle of the puddle, answering my question and motivating me to pack up. The resulting print fulfills all my expectations and further reflects my feelings for the ephemeral beauty we encounter everyday.

New Special Edition Print: Hanging Tree

This exposure was made back in May of 2006 and for whatever reason I had not gotten around to printing it. The negative proved to be a good candidate for split grade printing and I was able to pull the tones I was looking for. The tree seems to share them with the stone... blending into one another in a second, purely visual way. I remember making the negative one morning in McConnells Mill State Park and being impressed with the display of graceful tenacity.

The contact print is approximately 4x5 inches; mounted and over mated with white, 4ply, 8x10 inch Alpharag Artcare museum board; signed and numbered on the front; stamped, dated and titled on the verso. The silver gelatin print is toned lightly in selenium and available for a limited time at the reduced price of $50. See my website for more info.

Project Update

I've reached the end of the shooting phase of Project Pond Scum and have begun making prints from the remainder of my negatives. I've got maybe 15 or 20 left to go so I'm hoping to pull another 5 promising prints from those and then begin to narrow it down to 25 or 30 final photographs for the series and a show. As tough as that may be, choosing 10 for the portfolio will only be that much more difficult!

My fingernails will be going black again as I've found that using dirty old Amidol makes it possible to change the contrast of Kentona on some prints to a degree I can't reach with my Ansco 130 developer. I can't complain though, it's well worth the extra mess for those images that require it.

I've been considering adding subtitles to some of the prints and also need to finish an essay to accompany the body of work. Add that and the printing to my list along with scanning, mounting, framing, entering contests and looking for places to hang it and suddenly finishing the shooting no longer seems so much like the end.

Neither Snow nor Rain nor Gloom of Night...

With the shooting for Project Pond Scum wrapped up and no graded paper to finish the printing until UPS brings my next box of Kentona, I was looking for something to do. I bought a huge light table a few years back and had been toying with the idea of shooting back lit leaves. The weather hasn't been pleasant the last couple weekends, be it wind or rain or simply lack of sunlight. It finally convinced me to take the work inside and I collected a couple handfuls of interesting leaves from all over the farm. I decided to light the front of the leaves as well and simply used my desk light with it's positionable arms. I have to really stretch my camera out to focus as closely as I like which causes the exposures to total about 20 seconds despite shooting directly into a light source. It's a bit more difficult than I thought to get everything into focus and composed as I want but the results so far have been well worth the effort. A little more time collecting specimens and I'll have enough subject matter to keep me busy all season, regardless of the conditions.

Algea in the Sky with Diamonds

While some relationships in our landscape are easy to recognize others demand a little more of our attention to discover. Since I started my Pond Scum Project in earnest this summer I've been making all sorts of discoveries. With focused attention I've seen the ponds on Campbell's Farm in ways I never before considered.

I've always been intrigued by the way an intimate look at nature so closely resembles the much broader view. I've seen these similarities between the alluvial fans of Death Valley and the way a spring run off shapes my driveway in Pennsylvania. Science has observed them between the smallest particles and the largest galaxies we've found. No greater photographic example exists than the aerial images of William Garnett and the closeup abstractions of Brett Weston. While their vision is markedly different the subject matter often times looks much the same despite the vast difference in scale.

Now I've found these connections in my own work. A patch of light algea protruding into the dark water like a tropical shoreline. Patches of plants and layers of scum in the water resemble a river delta winding it's way out of a forest and into the sea. Sticks in the mud become lightning dancing across a twilight canvas and most recently I've watched a patch of algae soar with the clouds while smaller pieces sparkle like diamonds in the evening sky. These forced visual relationships reveal a larger picture, one that I can only suggest. It's up to the viewer to determine just what connections they uncover in my work, what they mean and, ultimately, draw their own conclusions.

Project Pond Scum

I currently have undertaken two long term projects photographing the Campbell's Farm and Shenango River Lake areas. I anticipate both taking years to complete. Recently I'd been reading some Brooks Jensen, publisher of Lenswork, and had determined that it was time I found something I could focus on and complete in the short term. About that same time I had been admiring the work of Paula Chamlee. She produced a whole series of photographic closeups of a soaped up window while traveling in Iceland. It was all very abstract and quite beautiful.

Not long ago a friend who stopped shooting 4x5 inch film gave me his leftover stash of Ilford Delta 100 and Ilford FP4+. It was expired but only by a year and had been kept in a proper environment. I did a couple of tests and counted the film. It was fine and there were over 100 sheets. I also had about 75 sheets of 4x5 inch film myself. Well, expired film and my desire to produce a series in a short amount of time seemed the perfect fit.

I needed something close to home, something that I could work without too much travel so I started looking through some of my photographs. I found one, a close up of pond scum made in 2005, that reminded me of one of Paula's soaped window pictures. A light bulb went off and I decided to start working on a sort of companion to my Cambell's Farm or Thereabouts series, focusing on the algae. At first I planned on making all closeup abstractions. As I started working I was drawn to many of the visual relationships created not only by the pond scum but its surroundings. I've never limited myself to specific types of photographs and felt this was no time to start. I came to the conclusion that as long as algae is somewhere in the frame it was good enough for me.

I plan on shooting all the film over the course of the summer (after which the scum begins to disappear anyway) and prune the images down to the best 10 to 15 ,then release them as a portfolio. I've made and printed 14 different compositions so far though I've used a bit more film than that making backups. The results have been extremely encouraging to say the least. I will be adding a special section to my website and will post the progress over the course of the summer and fall. I think it's important to work with something you know and I've been admiring the ever changing surface of the 6 ponds here for years. When everything falls together as it has for this project, I think it would be foolish not to respond.

Please check www.shawndougherty.com for updates starting later this week. You can view Paula's Abstract Iceland gallery here. I also recommend picking up a copy of Lenswork if you're not yet familiar with it. They produce all the issues in a beautiful duo tone and have some of the highest standards among monochrome magazines.

Grasses in Snow

If there is any single idea that has not only informed my photography but also helped to define it, it is the notion that the real subject of great photographs are visual relationships - the way objects in the picture relate not only to each other but also to the edge of the frame. The implications of that idea are far reaching and were easier, at least for me, to grasp in my earlier days of picture making than the idea itself.

The most profound of those implications, that great pictures can be made anywhere and in any light, was something I relized early and was reinforced by experience. While my images of the Susquehana River and it's bridges were made on a day that was truly exceptional much of my best work has been made in far less fantastic situations.

Not long after my trip to Harrisburg I made the short drive to my favorite area of the Shenango River Lake to look for pictures. The lake is formed by a large dam and the water level had been altered submerging most of my destination under a foot or more of water and forcing me to stop in a small parking lot near the edge of the newly formed shoreline. The sun was low and I had little time to drive somewhere else so I decided to grab my camera and see what I could see. Just across the road was a small grass covered hill. Most of the grasses had succumbed to the blanket of snow but some were still standing and casting shadows many times their length. The effect was incredible and I quickly set up my camera! Not long into the process a truck pulled up beside me and the driver asked what I was doing. I told him I was making pictures to which he laughed and said I must be crazy to take pictures of the ground. He watched for a moment, wished me luck and went on his way.

Without further distraction I was able to work intently in the angular, late afternoon light. I ended up making two exposures. The first being a subtle exercise in asymmetrical tension with a large area of negative space. The second was much more direct and featured a central blade of grass that seem to be presiding over the rest. Both seem to elevate the mundane to quite dramatic effect.

While no one questioned me as I made pictures in the foggy wonderland of Harrisburg a month earlier the lone soul I saw this particular day took me for a fool. I've shown both sets of images to several people and each of the four images seemed to have a similar impact. Aside from coming away with great prints and experiences I learned a valuable lesson those days. It's not what's in front of the camera but the person behind it that determines the success of a photograph.

Untitled #1

I recently decided to embark on a second long term project, photographing the Shenango River Lake and it's surroundings. The lake was created in 1965 when the Army Corp of Engineers built the Shenango Dam. The lake displaced my mother and her family, forcing them to move to a neighboring community. I've spent much time there myself - picnicking when I was young - night swimming, fishing and boating as I grew older. It's a comfortable and meaningful place for me to work and it is in a constant state of flux as the water level changes frequently.

I drove there after work last Wednesday with my 4x5 camera and after a hour or so found this wonderful group of sticks protruding from the water. I had one sheet of film left which I quickly used. I felt there was more there than I was seeing and decided to return the following night with the 8x10 camera and more film.

The next night I drove straight to this place and, being earlier, there was more light on the water. I began setting up to the dismay of a young family watching their son swim a few hundred yards to my right. I couldn't help overhear their conversation which did eventually lead to a consensus: the big green thing was a camera, like Ansel Adams used, and I must be crazy taking pictures of sticks in the water...

Once I was set up I quickly forgot about everything else and began working under the dark cloth. After repositioning the tripod a couple of times I found a perspective that isolated the sticks and reflections. From this new position the scene took on the look of a flock of birds in flight! I quickly tightened down the camera, loaded a film holder and took a meter reading. There was only a stop and a half difference in brightness between the top and bottom of the water, little enough I knew I could print it evenly. I waited for the wind to still, pulled the lens cap for 5 seconds and just KNEW I had something.

A printing session on Saturday confirmed my excitement as the photograph was fairly easy to make and looked even better than I had hoped. From those I've shown so far the appeal is wide. It's incredibly satisfying, the feeling that I have really created something new and not merely recorded what was in front of me. Of course I can't help but wonder what the family at the lake would think of it.

You can view a larger version HERE.

Cracked Ice and Branches

I made this exposure in February of 2005. For some reason or another it kept getting pushed back in the printing rotation until last Friday, 2 years later.

I remember that day quite well. The weather had been bitterly cold for some time and was just begining to warm up. It was a weekend, Saturday I believe, and I decided to take a ride to Shenango River Lake. There is one main bridge that crosses the lake at one of it's thinnest points and continues for some distance as a causeway. After crossing to the north you can drive back along the western side for a few hundred yards. I did this and got out when I feared my little truck would get stuck if I went any farther. I'd never been to this sliver of land between causeway and lake before and decided to explore. I packed up and walked for some time admiring the ice covered water to my right. I set up my camera once along the way but wasn't inspired to make a picture.

As I was nearing the bridge and end of the penninsula the ground became covered with large sheets of ice and frozen snow. It was creaking underfoot while I made my way along and suddenly I came upon a sweeping crack between two large plates immediately in front of me. The plate on the left had been saturated with water at some point and was considerably darker than the one beside it. I quickly set up my camera and began working with this extraordinary form. There were a couple of branches laying on the beautifully textured, snow covered ice sheets and I was having trouble eliminating them from the frame. I considered walking around the potential picture space to remove them but was afraid I would further crack the ice. Rather than risk disturbing that beautiful line I tried including them in the frame. Eventually I found a spot where I could incorporate both branches in a way that related to the rest of the image and the line of the crack seemed to take on the shape of the female form. I knew I had something and was excited enough to make a backup exposure. At almost 3 bucks a pop it was not something I normally did.

After getting lost in a shuffle of negatives and intentions I rediscovered them on Friday. I was looking to create a photograph to offer as a new Special Edition print and decided to give it a shot. After finding my base exposure I noticed a finger print in the emulsion of the first negative that showed quite noticably on the print. I nervously checked the back up negative I had made and found it was fingerprint free! I thanked the photography gods I had made a second exposure and continued printing. I worked out a base time of 10 seconds and then burned the negative for an additional 12 seconds while gradually covering the paper from bottom to top. I couldn't be happier with the results and decided to indeed offer it as my current Special Edition print.