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.

"Do you paint your fingernails?"

If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me that question... Since I started making contact prints I've been using an Amidol paper developer similar to those used by the Westons and Michael A. Smith. It's a disgusting brew that only lasts about 12 hours once you mix it. Its stains however, last much longer. Days on the skin, forever on your fingernails and trays or whatever else you happen to spill it on. I always made sure not to get my right hand in it so I could still shake without freaking people out. Then why use it you ask ...? It's redeeming qualities made it worthwhile - deep rich blacks, great mid tone separation and amazing highlight detail. For the past couple of years I thought it was the end all be all of paper developers and worth all the trouble.

Well, I decided to do a bit of research on the subject over the past couple of weeks and found several people who where using Ansel's old Ansco 130 formula and comparing it favorably to Amidol. The benefits beyond cleanliness were considerable, 6 month + shelf life once you mix your stock solution and even a couple month life for the working solution in a tray! That meant instead of mixing my precious (read expen$ive) Amidol only when I could commit to printing for several hours I would now be able to keep developer mixed and print when I only had a little time. Well, that was all it took and I ordered myself the chemicals and mixed a batch tonight.

I ended up making a finished print of one negative and it is washing as I type this. I chose a negative with tons of contrast, deep shadows, bright highlights and it even had the sun in the frame. The print came out beautifully and the developer was active enough to allow a slight contrast reducing water bath. Now I obviously need to see the print dried down and do a few more tests before I officially switch but things sure look promising and after a couple months of fingernail growth you might not be able to tell I ever used dirty old Amidol.

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.

Keeping up with the Equipment!?!?

I haven't sat down and pushed myself to write an essay on using traditional photographic processes yet. It's important and quite frankly I'm not sure I'm ready to do the subject justice. However, something happened this week that got my wheels spinning enough to mention. I received my Summer issue/copy/whatever of the giant B and H Photo/Video catalog.

It wasn't that long ago that I myself worked at a camera store, then as a digital product and wedding photographer. I knew all the brands, the latest hardware and software, and usually what the next big thing was going to be. Here I am only a couple years removed from the digital scene and suddenly almost everything is new to me. Now, I could probably jump back in and work my way through the learning curve if I was so inclined but it makes me wonder about artists choosing to work in that medium.

History shows that many if not most great artists have worked for a time to become proficient with their chosen tools, feel comfortable with them, allow them to become an extension of their vision... and then use them to create. I wonder how one can ever really become comfortable with a technology that is so volatile and ever changing as digital imaging?

When I bought my last digital camera a newer, better and fancier model had been released long before I could claim operating it was second nature. I now use 8x10 and 4x5 view cameras that were made in the 1960s. I'm quite comfortable with their operation and am free to concentrate on art making. Sure, I could handle a few more lenses and film holders but nothing major and it won't be that long until I won't need ANYTHING else. Just film, paper and chemicals to create my photographs. As long as those materials are around I can focus on improving my art and craft and not merely keeping up with the latest technologies. Isn't that what's really important in art?

Now I realize there are plenty of people out there more intelligent than I is who can surely keep pace without breaking a sweat while others are simply different... to each his own and that's fine. I for one will stick with traditional materials, learn to use them intuitively and become a better artist for it.