December 29, 2015

120 Color Photo essay: Winter on the Farm

Bella on the run at the Petkau farm. Morden, MB / Portra 800

Apple doesn't fall far from the tree. These two are jokers. Laughter and tenderness abound.

Atlas proudly holds young Bella. Winter 2015.

Beatty-Petkau's moon for the camera. We woke on the farm to a winter wonderland. 

The fog was dense and the light was incredible. Behind this family and hidden by fog lies a thick treeline. 

Atlas, Rebecca, young Arlo and Conrad. Quality family right here. 

All photos shot on my old faithful, the Kiev 60; shown in consecutive order in which they were shot. Portra 800 film did the trick to pick up on those warm colors on a cold day. The light was right thanks to a heavy fog and zero wind! Magic combination. Thank goodness my camera was loaded with color film. Contrast film would never have done the beauty of that day justice! I had never in my life seen such impressive hoar frost as I did the morning this roll was shot. Mind's Eye just mad snappin'.

Winter is magic!

December 15, 2015

D A R K R O O M

T I M I N G
C H E M I S T R Y
M A G I C
W I L L
L U C K

I was sitting in my front parlour after work this afternoon reading. An excerpt from photographer and printer Elaine Mayes found in a well-loved coffee table book of mine titled 'Darkroom' struck me in the silver gut. It goes like this:

By far the hardest part of darkroom work for me is getting started in the first place. I have tried all sorts of ploys to make it easier. My current darkroom is at home, and I designed it with the procrastination problem in mind, feeling that it should be a comfortable, pleasant space. Being in a darkened, orange-lit place with the sounds of water and fan (for ventilation is very important) accompanied by acrid odors, are not ideal working conditions for me. Working at home is certainly better than having to go elsewhere, but still I find all kinds of distractions to keep myself away. A friend suggested that I reward myself afterwards, by washing the dishes or cleaning up the house, both tasks that are infinitely easier than taking the first precarious step into the mysterious arena called Darkroom.

I struggle between compulsive order and the will to abandon all rules, so the kind of darkroom I have, and the way I relate to its procedures, are in keeping with these extremes. The room itself is 7 by 17 feet, with a 2 by 17 foot wooden sink along one side, and the dry counter enlarger area, film drying cabinet, and door along the other side. This arrangement means that I don't have to walk around endlessly. After exposing a print, for example I just turn 180 degrees to the developer tray. The long sink is extravagant but it makes it possible to carry the printing procedure to final washing by sending the print through the chemicals in a continuos motion, although I normally tone the prints with selenium after all the developing and fixing have been completed. With 16 x 20 or larger prints, the long sink is perfect. The most special aspect of the room is the carpeted floor with a thick foam pad underneath, so I can work barefoot for hours without suffering from tired feet. I have a pull-chain light installed above the fixer tray so that I can reach up and turn on the light the instant the print has been sufficiently fixed (one to two minutes, usually). 

Another important piece of equipment is the radio-cassette tape machine which provides music while working. Waiting for prints to fix sufficiently or waiting for another thirty seconds during film development are endless repeated times with nothing to do, so I often sing along and sometimes dance to the music. 

Ultimately I am not a fine technician, and the technical aspects of photography don't interest me at all. But having a usable and adequate skill is essential, so I seek out methods that best suit the way I photograph and relate to the medium. Simplicity is important because I want to be able to concentrate on the image. If procedure gets too complicated or takes too much time, I get bored and anxious.

From Darkroom; Lustrum Press, Inc., 1977.

I struggle between compulsive order and the will to abandon all rules
I struggle between compulsive order and the will to abandon all rules
I struggle between compulsive order and the will to abandon all rules
I struggle between compulsive order and the will to abandon all rules
I struggle between compulsive order and the will to abandon all rules
I struggle between compulsive order and the will to abandon all rules

"I struggle between compulsive order and the will to abandon all rules, so the kind of darkroom I have, and the way I relate to its procedures, are in keeping with these extremes". Amen sister!

The Darkroom has been on my mind of late. These thoughts on rotation confirm that winter is here to stay. All I want to do is print. After taking a step back from textile production and backing out of the sale I had commit to in the first place, I thought it was absolutely necessary to at least make something if it wasn't going to be money. So I started by printing contact sheets of the Peters family. The contact sheets tell a sweet story of love at first sight and the debut of a wonderful soul called Ellis. My first portrait printed in over a year of moons was of that sweet boy. His little face still dripping wet on a nice, snappy 8 x 8" print hanging on the line encouraged me to keep going. So I did. Next I chose to print a few copies of a shot I took of Noam & Effie at ease on their push bikes. I set up the negative and then left to go pick up the brothers with a plan in mind. This was Friday. Noam, Effie and I walked over to my house after four. I made hot chocolate and set up the trays while they watched Tom & Jerry at my kitchen table. I invited them down and gave them their first lesson in the darkroom. We printed 5 copies of Brothers on Push Bikes and three of another print titled Three Muskateers at Halloween. They were mystified, stupefied and spell-bound by the magic of Developer. I'm thrilled they now think me a magician, but! The wonder of it all was they it was they who made the magic. Christmas is about joy and generosity. These boys made their parents a wonderful gift to remember. I am so proud to know them and spend time teaching them what I can while they are still hungry to learn. My children will be printers, no less. Well, at least until they are old enough to choose for themselves. Four year olds are magical creatures.

Why? Why? Why?

I have this child in my group who I shall call Mapchild here, to protect his spirit in this public space. I admire him deeply and appreciate the way he challenges me to meet him where he is on a daily basis. His eyes are fierce arrows that pierce me in the most surprising ways. At school he lives for map reading and talking passionately about the places in the world he is interested in. As a teacher I push myself to take the steps I need to push him and guide him in his quest. When he does math he brings in his older brothers, using their ages to mark his progress as he learns the numbers 0-100 and their physical values. I imagine that the numbers 6 and 8 will be with him always as he is so fixated on these values during this particular sensitive period to numbers.