recenziile unui amator | amateurish reviews

contact me @ alin [dot] ciortea [at] gmail [dot] com

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Film photography is a great thing of the past. It’s like driving a Porsche 911 Targa from the days of Woodstock, wearing old school John Lennon sunglasses and a white scarf. It has its charm and beauty even if it’s not what one would call practical. I know quite a lot of people who’d love to try it but they seem scared by all that “load in total darkness - developer rinse fix rinse wash dry - OMG, I can’t see the results on the display on the back of my camera” nonsense. Others take a leap of faith and give it a go but then all the technical questions pop up. One of them is “what’s this whole developing story?”

Well, I know the story and I’m willing to share :D (but keep in mind, reading this story told by me is nothing like reading the genuine stuff from a genuine book. I hold no responsability for your ruined films, chemical intoxication, throwing your developing tank at a wall in madness or any other side effects. Besides, it’s part of the charm and beauty you get from driving that old 911 Targa, isn’t it?) Also, this crash course won’t be structured really logical. I just write it as it comes. For example, I won’t start with the normal talk about developing tanks, reels and changing bags. Maybe at a later date.

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There are literally tens of different developers out there. Each one is described as the Holy Graal of black and white film photography (oh, yes, forgot about one tiny little thing: all the rumblings to come are strictly about B&W!) and, at the end of the day, each one could actually be the Holy Graal for one photographer or another.

You can choose from syrup concentrate developers or powder developers, one shot developers or replenishable developers, small cans or big bottles. Each comes with good parts and bad parts. I won’t describe generic stuff here because I’m no guru. Just the things I’ve seen and tried.

The developer I’ve used most is the old mighty Rodinal (aka R09). This is pretty much the hundred years old bullet proof formula. Why do I like it?

  • dirt cheap (you can pay 18 euros for 1 liter of concentrate R09 here in EU and use it at 1:50 dilution - although anything between 1:25 and 1:200 is possible. My math says an average of 0.2 euro cents per film)
  • super stable formula (when UNDILUTED!!!). Opened bottles of Rodinal have been reported to work just fine after as much as 20 years, although you have to be pretty lazy to take that much time to finish it
  • one shot developer: dilute it, use it, toss it. No compensation after a number of films, always the same results under the same conditions
  • super creamy tones. It just warms my soul.
  • crisp details
  • can be easily used for the lazy-man’s tehnique (1+100 dilution, slowly agitate for 1 minute, tap against the sink, let it sit for an hour - applies to any film shot at nominal speed)
  • compensating developer - theoretically should sqeeze the soul out of most films
  • works wonders with all-school emulsions (APX, Foma, Efke, old Tri-X, Pan-F etc.) but I found it to be great with newer emulsions like Neopan 400 too.

Of course, it comes with some drawbacks too:

  • tends to show the grain’s real face (it does NOT enhance grain but it doesn’t dissolve it either)
  • only few films reach box speed in Rodinal. A third to a half stop slower is the daily routine (will explain more about film speed and EI later)
  • takes forever to work with some films. For example, AGFA APX 100 in Rodinal at 1+50 dilution needs 17 minutes

Rodinal is like a smooth lady. It likes it soft and gentle. So don’t go around agitating like crazy or it will poke your eyes out with grain balls big enough to play a match of golf. I use 1 minute of gentle inversions (about 20 of them) at the beginning and then two gentle inversions each minute until the time is up. If you’re overly lazy you might like to try the stand developing method. So head over the RangeFinderForum and read this in-depth thread about it.

    A while back I stumbled upon Diafine, another pretended Holy Graal, beat-all developer. Yes, I know, it’s like discovering fire in 2012. I have no expertise with Diafine yet. I just prepared my first batch last night and shot a test roll this morning (drying right now), but this is what I know about it:

    • true two-bath, highly compensating developer
    • all films require the same treatment (maybe with a couple of exceptions)
    • doesn’t really care about temperature as long as it’s between 21 and 29 Celsius (great thing for those hot summer days)
    • it gives some higher EI than box speed for most films, with some exceptions (one of them being Fomapan 400 - undergoing testing right now. I’ll probably append the results soon). In average you get about one stop higher EI (EI = Exposure Index. Forgot to mention it), but rumours say Tri-X is best rated at 1250 without increase in grain or loss in shadow detail.
    • it CAN’T be used for pushing films (or pulling for that matter). Given its characteristics, each film has ONLY one EI in Diafine. My recomandation is to do your own test to figure out the EI based on your particular combination of film, developer, light reading and camera. One film ‘ruined’ for posterity is better than lots of films ruined for nothing.
    • although you mix it from powder, people say it lasts for years.
    • whatever you do, NEVER get any of solution B into solution A. If there’s anything Diafine hates, that mixing bottles and pouring the B into A. Of course, if you want to play a very very nasty prank to your darkroom mate you might try this. It will kill the whole batch in no time.
    • you can develop films until you’re out of solution A (the process goes like this: you pour solution A in the tank, do the 3-5 minutes time with proper agitation, pour the solution back in its bottle, DO NOT RINSE, pour solution B in the tank, do the time, pour back, rinse, fix, wash and dry. This process actually means that while in A - where little to no developing takes place - the emulsion soaks in solution A and therefore retains a certain amount of it. As a result each developed film means that you have less and less solution A, until you’ll have too little to actually cover the roll in the tank. That’s the signal you should buy a new batch)
    • you can develop any types of films together. They all need the exact same treatment (great for all those “let’s shoot this and that and those all-different films”) - I think I’ve already mentioned this before but nevertheless…

    I’ve used some other developers too but only for a couple of films each. There are lots more of great stuff out there and in the end it’s just a matter of taste and habbits. For what I need these two seem ideal, each with its strong points and weaknesses, each suitable in certain situations but each great as a whole. Not to mention they’re both cheap and readily available and there is a lot of great info and discussions about both of them.

    If I’d have to recommend one to a beginner, I’d probably go with Rodinal for its ease of use and reliability. It really is a bullet-proof developer and you have to be extremelly sloppy to go wrong with it. I bet I could teach my dog to use it.

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    Paradies_sf_w
    Ricoh 500G / Paradies 100 Slide film  //  Canoscan 8800f / Silverfast SE

     

    I was born in a time when my parents used to shoot slide film not because it was trendy or hip but because people simply used to to this, even in the old comunist Europe. It was perhaps as normal as shooting a digital point and shoot today. They also had a diaprojector that I’ve resurected the other day (the halogen bulb was dead) and then have used it for my ”Day’s Gone” mini-series. While lots of my father’s old Orwochrome slides are nothing to behold, I’m still in awe when looking at the results I had had with a 2 euros worth Paradies 100 film. OK, I know… some have probably shot so many slide films that to them I’m just another aboriginal excited that I’ve discovered the wheel. But living in a world and time when the megapixel race seems to be the essence of photography for many, when Adobe is unveiling their new “unblurring” soon-to-be Photoshop feature and when everybody in possesion of a digital camera thinks (s)he’s a photographer, looking at a white screen through a slide film is nothing short of a miracle. I really wish there was a way I could describe this feeling of immersivity, realism and pure magic that a slide can offer but finding the right words is just as hard as digitalising a slide film to it’s true value and capabilities (I just have no idea how to to that).

    If you ever have the chance at least hold a frame and look at it against the sky or even a blank (white) LCD. You could be amazed :)

    Img_7910w

    EOS 20D / blank TFT screen

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    Because I striped it naked and it teased me two days for that.

    This Rokkor had a very stiff focusing ring. So stiff that after a couple of hours outside on a November day it was barely moving at all. Since I a also have an MC Rokkor 58/1.4 I decided I might as well give it a go and try servicing it.

    The first step was to remove the trim ring from the front of the lens. Ideally I should have used a spanner wrench but since I don’t have one, I used a vernier caliper instead. A lot of care is needed because any mistake in handling it will lead to either a scratched black ring (and usually these scratches tend to be deeper than the paint layer) or worse, a scratched or even chipped lens.

    Img_7454

     

    After the trim ring has been removed, you can see three more rings holding in place the entire optical group to the helicoid, the front optical group to the aperture system and the lenses from the front optical group together (resectively). For the moment just unscrew the first ring (the brass-looking one).

    Img_7455

     

    You can now remove the entire optics (and aperture system) from the lens body. You will notice a brass ring to the front of the assembly. It does not screw into place so if you take it off don’t forget to put it back before reassembling the lens. You’ll also notice that I’ve made some marks in order to know exactly how much to screw the front and rear lens groups back to the aperture system (this image was taken sometime in the middle of the process and that’s why the lines are perfectly aligned). If the aperture system is working properly and there isn’t any dust in there, you might as well leave it be. Otherwise it’s time to unscrew the optical groups from the aperture system. To clean the apertures just drop some lighter fluid (I have a Zippo can) on the blades while working them back and forth with the aperture pin. Repeat this a couple of times and then leave it alone to dry. Don’t pun anything on the blades. They only need to be perfectly clean to work.

    Img_7458

     

    Here you can see what thingy goes where, for when you’ll be reassembling this toy. The aperture pin must engage the brass connector on the lens body and the tab on the aperture system must engage the slot in the inner helicoid (as marked in the image below). While replacing the optical group back to the body you’ll have to push it just until the pin engages the connector and then, if needed, rotate the whole assembly until the tab also aligns with the slot. Only now can you push the assembly the whole way.

    Img_7464

     

    Now here comes the tricky part: the disassembly and especially reassembly of the focusing system. If you do it my way (just take it all out without paying attention), you’ll probably spend a good few hours putting all back together the right way (or just follow this tutorial :)) ). So it is extremely important to mark things with a sharp thingy (a screwdriver in my case) and be very attentive to what you’re doing. In this image you can see the focusing ring on it’s infinity position. The ring is held in place to the helicoid by means of three screws (see the last image) that you can reach with a small screwdriver (slotted, no.2) between the inner side of the ring and the outer side of the helicoid (while looking at the lens from the front). Unscrew them and remove the ring by a pull-and-twist motion (the ring has a small cutting that will allow it to pass a screw on the lateral of the helicoid). 

    Img_7466

     

    Notice the position of the brass helicoid related to the focusing scale. You’ll see one of the screw holes needed to connect the focusing ring aligns with the white triangle on the focusing scale. Now mark this position on the brass helicoid (I scratched a triangle)

    Img_7472

     

    Also mark the position of the aluminium helicoid (the one with the black tube) related to the brass helicoid (a pair of lines in my case)

    Img_7469

     

    The third thing needed for reassembly is knowing when to screw the aluminium helicoid (let’s call it helix2) in the brass helicoid (helix1). Now, I have no idea how they did it in the Minolta factory and I’m sure there must be a better way than mine, but this is all I could come up after many hours of fiddling with it.

    First of all the principle> the helicoid system must convert a rotation movement (the focusing action) into the linear back and forth movement of the optics. This is done by two interconected concentric screws (the helicoids), one of which screws into the body of the lens and the other screws into the first but is not allowed to rotate and therefore forced into only moving in and out. Helix one is just a cilinder that screws conventionally on the lens body (clockwise) and has another thread on the inside, allowing helix2 to be screwed in. Helix2 has an outside counter-clockwise thread and connects to the inside thread of helix1. The optics are connected to it by means of a ring. The two helicoids have different thread steps and this means that when interconected, for only a small movement of helix1 (rotation) there’s a big movement of helix2 (translation). Before disassembly make sure you’ve set focus at infinity!

    Because both screw into place, marking the position in which they are aligned to the body is not enough as at every turn the markings will align, but at a different depth related to the lens mount (and therefore the film plane). The infinity position for the brass helicoid is the most screwed it position minus just a bit more than a third of a turn (it’s the position for which the holes in the focusing ring and helix1 are aligned. You can’t really determine this position with the helix2 in place because it will not allow helix1 to go all the way down. I pretty much guesstimated the position and it turned out it was the correct one. Helix1 has a normal screw thread so it doesn’ really matter where you start screwing it as it will always end up in the same place (nevertheless, I marked the position where it dettaches from the body with a cross aligned with the white triangle on the focusing scale). Helix2 is a true helicoid and therefore has a number of possible ‘entries’ on the inner thread of helix1. The position where it dettaches from helix1 has also been marked with a cross aligned with the cross on helix1.

    When reassembling, I first screwed all the way in helix1, than unscrewed it that third turn until my triangle marking aligned the white triangle. Then aligned the cross on helix2 with the one on helix1 and started screwing helix2 in position. This step is easier done with the metal tab that keeps helix2 from rotating unmounted. You can see this tab in the forth image from the bottom (it’s the T shaped metal piece with three screws - in the image there are only two in place). As you screw helix2 in place, it will get stuck at some point so you’ll have to unscrew helix1 while keeping helix2 from rotating just enough as to raise helix2 above aperture connector. Screw helix2 beyond the connector then, while keeping it from rotating again, return helix1 to it’s infinity mark. Theoretically they are now in the correct position. Keep helix2 steady again and unscrew helix1 until helix2 has raised enough to allow you to connect the T shaped tab. You can now rotate helix1 back to infinity as helix2 will stay in it’s correct position. Replace the focusing ring and check that the screw holes are aligned with the holes in helix1. Replace the optics (don’t forget the brass ring), and screw in the ring that keeps it in place. Go outside and focus on a very distant object. You should have a perfect infinity focus with the focusing ring aligned properly at the infinity mark.

    The other method that I can think of (a more scientific method) but haven’t tried it while working on this lens is this> while disassemblying the helicoids, unscrew helix1 just until helix 2 is released from the metal tab, while counting the turns of helix1 (“n” turns). Now start unscrewing helix2 just until it dettaches from helix1 and mark the position on the two helicoids. Screw back helix1 the number of turns you just counted (it’s now at infinity position) and now further until it stops, while taking note of how much further it rotates (“x” of a turn - where x should be aprox 1/3, just a bit more). At reassembly, first you screw in helix1 all the way, then unscrew it “x” of a turn and a further “n” number of turnes determined above. Now place helix2 into place (following the markings) and screw it in. It should get aligned just right with the T tab. This method sounds easier than mine but I just thought about it now so it’s untested :)

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    These are the two helicoids

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    You can see here the T shaped tab keeping helix2 from rotating and the aperture connector (along with the rest of the lens mechanism that are of no concern right now).

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    This is the lens into pieces. From upper left to lower right> trim ring and decorating outter ring, the ring keeping the optics in place, the brass threadless ring, the front optics, the back optics, (second row) the aperture system, helix2, helix1, focusing ring, (third row) aluminium protection ring on the base of the lens (on the mount), lens body and the my little “screw trays”.

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    The helicoids after a good cleaning with ligher fluid. For relubrication I’ve used some lithium-calcium grade 2 multipurpose grease, diluted in mineral oil for fine mechanisms (undiluted it was much to thick and focusing was still far from a smooth experience). I’ve used a very small amount of grease. Very small! A q-tip soaked in the grease and then wiped of in a tissue is more than enough for all helicoids.

    Img_7486

     

    This is the completely screwed in position of helix1 related to the focusing ring detached from the lens but in it’s infinity position. Note that misalignment of the holes, giving you that “x” of a turn mentioned above.

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    Put it all back in reverse order and go out and burn some film ;)

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    Colaj

    rolleicord / hp5+  //  minolta rokkor / retro 400s  //  rodinal

    The tech stuff> The one on the left was shot with a 1953 Rolleicord III, using a true old-school 75mm f/3.5 Schneider Kreuznach Xenar lens. The one on the right was shot with an old yet no that old Minolta Rokkor MC 58mm f/1.4 lens. It’s true, they were shot not only on different types of film but also on different formats and that should account for some of the difference. The lighting, location and timing were absolutely the same (shot a couple of seconds apart). And now to my point… I find it quite funny how most of today’s photography enthusiasts all chase the sharpest or most multi-coated lenses when perhaps it’s still the old, ‘primitive’ ones that best fit portrait photography. That old Xenar is, according to wikipedia, a classic asymmetrical, anastigmatic, 4-element, 3-group lens design that was introduced in 1919, and is largely unchanged from the original Zeiss Tessar formula. In fact, the whole camera cost maybe just a tad more than the Rokkor 58/1.4 and for that kind of money you get a classic, incredibly beautiful TLR camera that has its shortcomings (severely crippled by contre-jour lighting, quite dim viewfinder, slow in operation) but a camera that seems to have been built for shooting portraits.

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    The Coolscan 9000ED from Nikon is about 15 times more expensive than the Canoscan 8800f from Canon. Yes, there’s quite a bit of difference between the two. In fact they’re so different it’s like comparing a VW Polo with an Aston Martin: they both can take you from point A to point B, but that’s about all they have in common.

    The internet is full of specs, reviews and other info on the two scanners so I won’t go into details, but I will post two sets of test scans. All images underwent exactly the same postprocessing.

    1. Rollei Retro 400s developed in Rodinal (Minolta Rokkor 35-70/3.5). Scan from Canoscan 8800f (resize and crop) versus scan from Coolscan 9000ED (resize and crop).


    8800f

    8800f_crop

    9000ed

    9000ed_crop

    2. Expired Kodak HD200. Scan from Canoscan 8800f versus scan from Coolscan 9000ED. The negative is exposed corectly but it seems that the very large amount of highlights is making the flatbed dizzy. I have tried at least ten different settings on both Canon’s scanning software and Silverfast SE and while the previews sometimes looked good, the final scans were always exactly the same (as seen below) - except for the times when the software just crashed, requiring a system restart. The Coolscan result has suffered only a slight colour correction (using ‘match colour’ function in Photoshop from another image shot at a different angle and focal length) - it was a tad yellowish.

    Kodak_hd200_8800f

    Kodak_hd200_9000ed

    I think it’s time I cut down a little on my expenses :)

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    Some 2 years ago I suddenly realized I couldn’t be a photographer anymore if I didn’t own a rangefinder. Being on a budget and after some googling I went for a Yashica Electro 35 GTN. It was a really nice camera but something didn’t feel right and I ended up selling it. That’s when the search for the perfect rangefinder began. The Ricoh 500G is the result of this (long) search. 

    OK, so what’s so great about it? In fact, the question should be “what’s not so great about it?”. The only somewhat disturbing drawback is its viewfinder. Not that big, not that bright (compared to a Minolta Hi-Matic 9 for example - another simply great camera).

    This Ricoh (and its almost twin brother the 500GX) is one small rangefinder. In fact it’s as small as it gets, in the same league with the Olympus 35RC or the Yashica Electro 35 CC and could easily fit a jacket pocket. You could carry it around your neck all day long and won’t even know it’s there.

    On the technical side, it features one major advantage over most of its competitors: coupled metered manual override. This means you can either shoot it in shutter-priority, or go fully manual and keep the meter’s functionality (most other rangefinders of its time that had a manual option would turn off the exposure meter in manual mode, so users had to go back and forth between AE and manual if they needed a light reading). While in manual mode, the meter is also coupled to the shutter speed ring so the meter’s needle will react to the change of shutter speed and indicate the aperture needed for correct exposure. While in AE shutter-priority mode, the needle shows the aperture used by the camera. 

    The ISO range goes from 25 to 800, a bit low, but still better than some other rangefinders that stop at 400-500. And having the manual override it’s quite easy to expose for 1600 or above. Optics-wise, the 500G features a nice little Rikenon 40mm f2.8 (a Tessar formula, if I’m not mistaking) that’s quite capable.

    It might not have the fastest lens or be the smoothest film camera on the planet but at the end of the day it’s the one ‘budget’ rangefinder I’d like to have in my pocket. 

    PS: many whine about how difficult it is to change the light seals in this camera… well, it’s not. Not as easy as other cameras, true, but not hard either. You just need some patience and enough foam pads (there are even instructions and foam sizes listed somewhere on the net but I can’t find them right now). It took me about 15 minutes from start to finish.

    Minolta XD7 versus Ricoh 500G

    Minolta XD7 versus Ricoh 500G

    Agfa APX 100 / Rodinal

    Agfa APX 100 / Rodinal

    DM Paradies 100 (slide film)

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    listen to Am Ketanes Swing - Minor Swing (Django Reinhardt)

    Primul lucru care m-a atras la colecţia de fotografii a lui Athol Rheeder a fost imaginea de pe învelitoarea albumului şi care, din păcate, nu se regăseşte şi în interiorul său (sunt două cu acelaşi personaj, dar nu aceasta). Fotografia înfăţişează o domnişoară elegantă, cu o pălărie în stil interbelic, ce cântă la pian lângă gardul de pe malul Tamisei, cu Big Ben-ul pierdut undeva în depărtare, sub ceaţa londoneză. Atmosfera parcă ireală pentru agitaţia cotidiană a marilor oraşe şi senzaţia de calm şi moale m-au prins din primul moment. Genul de imagine care te face să-ţi spui instantaneu „vreau şi eu acolo”.

    Albumul prezintă o monografie atât a artiştilor stradali, de la muzicanţi la mimi, cât şi a expresiilor de uimire şi încântare a publicului. Personal, boemia imaginilor îmi aduce aminte de Street Delivery-ul autohton sau, în mai mică măsură, de atmosfera Sighişoarei sau Sibiului istoric. O atmosferă ce parcă apasă butonul de pauză a tumultului de zi cu zi în timp ce te imersează într-o lume aproape de vis şi totuşi cât se poate de reală.

    Puteți cumpăra acest album de la BookDepository. Transportul este gratuit (și) pentru România.

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    “G”-ul vine de la Gold Mecanica şi înseamnă de fapt contacte aurite (şi deci mai rezistente la oxidare).

    Nu mai ştiu exact cum am ajuns să îmi cumpăr aparatul ăsta… probabil vroiam ceva mic şi cât mai stealth pe post de street shooter, un aparat pe care să-l pot lua oriunde şi atât (fără genţi, şpe obiective sau alte accesorii). Aparatul numai mic nu e, dar în ciuda dimensiunii (cam cât un Pentax MX) nu bate la ochi şi nu atrage atenţia. N-are look-ul ăla de professional paparazzi probabil. Un lucru e sigur totuşi, emblema aia cu atomii, chiar dacă ulterior am văzut-o şi pe alte aparate, m-a fascinat. Reprezenta state-of-the-art ’70s electronics şi, spre deosebire de multe dintre clopoţelele actuale (prezente pe diverse aparate), chiar funcţiona şi chiar era ceva demn de invidiat. Nu doar că aparatul putea/poate să expună la orice viteză între 30 de secunde şi a 500-a parte dintr-o secundă (adică şi 1/48,5s dacă e nevoie), dar aceste expuneri sunt corecte de fiecare dată, ţinând cont, bineînţeles, de tipul exponometrului din aparat (la fel cum nu poţi acuza un atlet care nu joacă bine fotbal că nu e un sportiv bun). Mai mult, sunetul declanşatorului poate fi mascat chiar şi de foşnetul unei pungi, iar acest lucru face diferenţa de multe ori.
    În mod sigur nu e un aparat de studio, nu e plurivalent sau multipotent, dar în clasa lui e printre premianţi.

    [ Detalii de tot soiul puteţi găsi pe Yashica-Guy, Photoethnography, Ken Rockwell, Matt Denton etc. ]

    Yashica Electro 35 GTN | Yashinon 45/1.7 | Fujifilm Superia 400
    Yashica Electro 35 GTN | Yashinon 45/1.7 | Fujifilm Superia 400