Friday, August 20, 2010 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, History
In 1935, a fellow by the name of Roy
Stryker went to work for the federal
government. Specifically, he took over the job of managing the
Historical Section of Roosevelt's Resettlement Administration.
Almost immediately the organization morphed into the
Farm Security Administration, and his section became the
Information Division.
Without putting too fine a point on it, Stryker's job was
propaganda - to give the Administration what they needed to justify
spending money that they didn't have. To further this aim, he came
up with an idea: he'd send out a bunch of photographers to make
pictures that would both tug at America’s heartstrings and
provide support for Roosevelt's policies. He gathered a bunch of
talented people from varied backgrounds - writers, painters, and
budding photographers - and sent them over the country to make
pictures.
While we can certainly debate the means of the program, the ends
were spectacular. Stryker's team shot over 164,000 pictures,
producing hundreds of iconic images and launching the careers of
many talented photographers. So good was the group that they would
later be transferred to the Office of War Information to document
the country’s entry into World War II, though their tenure
would last only a year.
Of those hundreds of thousands of images they shot, only 644 were
in color. Color film was quite expensive, even for the government's
pockets, but more importantly couldn't be reproduced in the
newspapers of the day. Its use was therefore quite limited, and the
photos somewhat rare.
Here are 70 of those 644, including some from a
couple of my favorite FSA photographers: Jack Delano and Alfred
Palmer.
(What happened to Stryker? In 1943 he went to work for Standard
Oil, who foresaw the need to polish their own public image. Several
of the FSA photographers, now unemployed after the OWI cut them
loose, went to work to make Standard look good. They succeeded, and
the Standard Oil photographs of that period still stand as supreme
examples of industrial photography. It’s too bad that Stryker
died in 1975 - I’m sure BP could use his services right about
now.)
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
Friday, August 06, 2010 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, History
Last year we learned that the last roll of Kodachrome film had been
produced at Eastman Kodak. This
month, the Wichita Eagle informs us that final roll
has been processed.
The roll was shot by photojournalist Steve McCurry, and the images
on it range from New York to India to Parsons, Kansas - where the
last Kodachrome processing line is located. It, too, will be going
the way of the dinosaur this December, when the equipment will be
shut down for good.
Bonus points: can you
decipher the meaning of my title? Extra bonus points if you can do
so without a search engine; super extra bonus points if you can
tell me how 'Rhapsody in Blue' is related to
Kodachrome.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
Friday, June 25, 2010 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, Things I like
I'm fickle, in that my favorite things change frequently depending
on what's in my hands at the moment. "This my favorite! No, THAT'S
my favorite! Wait - that one is REALLY my favorite!" Fountain pens,
.22 rifles, hats, revolvers (of course), and cameras.
Especially cameras. It's hard to pick just one.
What I do know is that I've shot more frames through one model than
any other, by a wide margin: the Pentax KX. I'm not talking about
the modern digital incarnation, but the original, all metal,
mechanical, manually operated film camera. It was, to my mind, one
of the best products ever to come from Asahi Optical and one of the
best 35mm SLRs that I ever used.

Images courtesy of
Turbof
(http://adsl-065-013-121-247.sip.pfn.bellsouth.net/camera_collector/pentax/k/k.html)
The KX is one of those machines that turned out to be a lot more
than the manufacturer probably intended. Introduced in the mid-70s,
during a time when many other legendary cameras were being
manufactured, the KX proved to be a worthy "semi professional"
camera of great durability and superb image quality. It was
competitive with and contemporary to the Canon FTb, the Nikon
Nikkormats, and the upper portion of the Minolta SR-T series.
The KX was a medium sized camera, and its features were common for
the day: depth-of-field preview, mirror lock-up, 1/1000 second
shutter, aperture display in viewfinder. What set it apart were a
couple of things that its competitors didn't have: shutter speeds
displayed in the viewfinder and a new, sensitive but linear silicon
blue meter cell.
The only camera that really compared to the KX was the Nikon FM,
introduced at the end of the KX model run. It was as if Nikon had
taken direct aim at the KX, for their new model had features to
rival the Pentax veteran (except, surprisingly, the mirror lockup.)
The only advantage the new Nikon had was the MD-11 (later MD-12)
motor drive. Even with that they were behind the curve, as Pentax
had made a special edition of the KX that took a drive as well: the
rare KX-Motor body.

Images courtesy of
Turbof
(http://adsl-065-013-121-247.sip.pfn.bellsouth.net/camera_collector/pentax/k/k.html)
The KX-Motor was exactly like the plain versions, with the addition
of the mechanics and circuitry necessary to run a slightly modified
version of the attachable motor from the Spotmatic MD model dubbed
the Motordrive II. There was no external indication, other than the
baseplate, which indicated that this was a special-order-only
camera. Since the entire KX model line was only made for three
years, that makes KX-Motor one of the rarer Pentax products.
I owned a number of KX cameras, and was fortunate to count two
KX-Motor bodies among them. At the time I knew they were uncommon
but only now realize how rare they actually were!
KX bodies came in both chrome and black finishes. The black bodies
were enamel over brass, which was the common construction method of
the time. I once stripped the worn enamel off the brass pieces of
one of the bodies, polished them until they were mirror bright,
then applied clear lacquer to keep tarnish away. The result was
stunning and I became known as "the guy with the gold camera." I
later sold that body to a friend to fund my move to Olympus OM
equipment...a story unto itself.
In use the KX proved to be a true photographer's tool. Controls
fell perfectly to hand, everything worked smoothly, and the silicon
blue meter was accurate down to ridiculously low light levels. Of
course the quality of Pentax lenses was never in doubt, and the
images produced by the combination of body and optics were always
superb.
None of that would mean much if the camera didn't hold up. I admit
to being rough on gear, to the point that the guy who repaired my
cameras regaled his customers with stories about damage sustained
by my cameras in various mishaps. Twenty years later he’s
probably still telling them!
The KX was incredibly rugged even in my hands, and it's one of the
very few cameras that I was never able to break to the point that
it wouldn't function. I've broken many others, but despite the
heavy use to which I put them never had a KX fail. (Wish I could
say the same for Pentax's "pro" camera, the LX.)
KX bodies accompanied me on both personal and professional
assignments, from standing in the middle of rivers to crawling
around the dirty confines of a foundary and everything in between.
I knew that I could always rely on them to bring back the images I
needed. They weren't the flashiest or most impressive bodies (save
for my special gold model), but they always delivered top notch
pictures.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography, old.technology
Friday, May 28, 2010 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, Things I like
At one time I was a devoted fan of Leica rangefinder cameras. I
owned many of them over the years, culminating with a beat-up
example of the much maligned M5 (2-lug) model. Like many
photographers I held a special place in my heart for the legendary
Leica M3, though mine was the less desirable (and thus cheaper)
double-stroke version. One could say that I was something of a
Leica snob, and that wasn't too far from the truth.
This makes my favorite rangefinder seem somewhat odd, because it
wasn't a Leica.
At one point I picked up a Kodak Retina IIIS rangefinder for next
to nothing, largely because I thought it would be a nice decoration
on my bookshelf. Along with it came a 50mm f2.8 Schneider Xenar, a
superb 35mm f2.8 Schneider Curtagon, and a 135mm Schneider
Tele-Xenar. The camera and lenses were in near-mint condition,
having been traded in on a more modern 35mm SLR with zoom
lens.
The Retina series of cameras were made in Germany by the
Kodak-owned Nagel Camerawerk. Most of them were small folding
cameras, but the IIIS was unique: it was a solid body rangefinder
with interchangeable lenses. It was a large, heavy camera compared
to the Leicas (or the rest of the Retina series), but it boasted a
large, bright viewfinder with automatically changing framelines and
parallax correction!

Courtesy of the superb
Retina IIIS article at www.cameraquest.com/ret3s.htm
The viewfinder was terrific, but the really great thing from my
perspective was the shutter. The IIIS had a between-the-lens leaf
shutter sourced from Compur, which meant that it could flash synch
at all shutter speeds. More importantly it meant that the shutter
was quiet. Very, very quiet. Next to the IIIS, a Leica M3 sounded
like a bomb going off. Those who know the Leica cameras and their
reputation for stealth might be amazed, but it was true; even the
photographer often couldn't hear or feel the Retina shutter
fire.
This made it ideal for surreptitious shooting, but especially for
such things as concerts and plays. While the lenses weren't
terribly fast, thus limiting their indoor capabilities, it was
possible to make very good available-light shots with the camera. I
did so on many occasions.
I also loved the depth-of-field indicators. They were two red
pointers on either side of the focus point mark, and as the
aperture was changed they moved in or out (in sync, one moving left
and one moving right) to indicate the zone of acceptable sharpness.
This was similar to the way the lenses on the Hasselblad cameras
worked, and to this day I miss that unambiguous display.
Over time I grew away from the rangefinder in general, finding the
newer compact SLRs to easily take their place. Except for the
noise, of course. Today I'd love to have a good digital rangefinder
camera, but the only one currently being made is the insanely
priced Leica M9. (A solid contender, the Epson RD-1, was recently
discontinued and the prices have skyrocketed well past
"reasonable." There are some others that boast add-on digital
viewfinders, but they stink. The viewfinders, I mean!)
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography, old.technology
Friday, May 14, 2010 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, Things I like
...wrong subway!
I found this some time ago, and thought it was an intriguing site
in the growing "abandoned things" genre. It's not just about
subways, either - photographer Shawn Dufour has lots of cool sites
pictured: factories, hospitals, even a railroad yard.
Have a look at abandonedsubwaytunnels.com
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: abandoned, photography
Friday, April 30, 2010 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, My Life, Things I like
The XE-7 is one of the cameras I've admired from afar, but never
actually owned. This wasn't because of any lack of the camera
itself, or of the superb Minolta lenses, but simply because it had
been discontinued several years before I got involved in
photography. The XE-7's successors weren't nearly as interesting,
and their lack of a reliable "pro" camera throughout their history
meant that there was no upgrade path. That left the XE-7 sitting on
its own little photographic island.
But what an island it was!

Photo courtesy of Stan
C. Reade Photo, http://www.stancreade.com
The XE-7 was rumored to have been developed "in conjunction" with
E. Leitz, the makers of the famous Leica line of cameras. I'm not
sure that was the case, as a tear-down reveals significant
similarities to the XK model, introduced in 1972, and both preceded
the rebranded Leica R3 version by several years. That assertion
does, however, give one a good feel for just how well the XE-7 was
built.
The shutter, sourced from Copal, was quiet and accurate. Film
advance was as smooth as anything ever made in the 35mm field.
Metering was predictable and accurate (as long as the aperture
follower, which coupled the meter to the lens, stayed clean - a
common weakness of all Minolta MC/MD mount cameras.) The camera was
just a joy to use, and those times I took to the field with
borrowed XE-7s were magical. The camera was responsive and easy to
adapt to; the images were clean, clear, and had wonderful
contrast.
Part of the stellar performance was, of course, due to the Minolta
Rokkor lenses. Minolta produced some of the very best optics to
ever come out of Japan; to this day, knowledgeable photographers
wax poetic about the color rendition of their designs. (They were
good enough that Leica bought several Minolta lenses, with no
change other than mounts, to round out the lens line for their SLR
cameras.)
The camera proved to be fairly rugged, the aperture follower issue
notwithstanding. One of my colleagues had a pair of them that he
used extensively while working as a photojournalist, and they
looked like they'd been through a war zone. They still worked
perfectly despite the abuse.
Sadly, the XE-7 was discontinued in 1977 to make way for the more
modern XD series of cameras. While the XDs were certainly smooth,
nicely functioning machines, they weren't the photographer's tool
that the XE-7 was. It was because of the lackluster XD that I
generally ignored Minolta, despite their uncompromising
optics.
-=[
Grant ]=-
P.S.:
Regarding
Minolta "pro" cameras - yes, I know all about the XK and the XK
Motor. I also know, far too well, how unreliable those cameras were
in actual use. The XK Motor, in particular, was perhaps the least
reliable "pro" camera I've ever seen, with many examples making
multiple trips to Minolta for repeated repairs. I liked the XK, and
to this day feel the XK Motor to be one of the nicest-handling
large SLRs ever made, but they just didn't have what it took in the
durability department. More's the pity.
Tags: photography, old.technology
I just returned from a visit to Virginia Beach, where I attended
the Combat
Focus Shooting Instructor Development
(CFSID) course. I've been searching my brain for a one-word
description of what the class is like, and this is the only thing
that even comes close:
OhHolyCrap.
We spent 4 days and just shy of 60 hours learning the ins and outs
of Combat Focus Shooting so that we could accurately and
efficiently communicate the program to students. We spent the first
of those day on the range...no, that's not quite right; for any
other course it
would have been the first day, but for
us it was roughly half of the first day, as the entire session ran
well past 9pm. The rest of the week was spent not on becoming
better shooters, but learning to be better teachers.
We studied a little of everything: anatomy, physiology,
neurophysiology, psychology, philosophy, and more. By the end of
the fourth day, which is when testing was done, my brain was fried.
I don't even remember the final written test, but I do remember
nearly passing out somewhere on page three (serious blood sugar
drop, complete with tremors and sweating.)
Apparently I finished it. At least, I think I did!
This isn't like most other instructor courses. Most of the time, an
instructor certificate is a matter of showing up, shooting well,
and having your check clear. CFSID is different;
Rob
Pincus is committed to producing
good teachers, not just good demonstrators. That showed in the
caliber (pardon the pun) of the people who were there, as I'd be
confident in recommending any one of them as a competent and
knowledgeable instructor.
There's a reason that, historically, less than 50% of Combat Focus
Shooting instructor candidates pass the course. It's that tough,
and takes a phenomenal amount of mental discipline just to make it
through.
----
As it happens, my return trip routed me through Chicago, where I
spent nearly three hours waiting for my next flight. Turns out
that Tam was in Chicago at the same
time. Wish I'd known, I'd have
loved to finally meet her.
----
We also got to study some (unintentional) modern art, courtesy of
an ancient video projector that refused to hold a sync signal with
Rob's new MacBook:

Yes, that's Rob Pincus getting all Warhol on his students.
----
I don't usually plug local businesses, but this one deserves
it.
The day before I left, I discovered that my old camera had died. It
powered up, but none of the controls worked. (It will still take
pictures, but the exposure control is fried and the autofocus
appears to be only sporadically active.) We had planned to upgrade
our camera later this year, but this forced our hand: we needed it
now.
I spent that day not packing, but running all over Western Oregon
to find the camera I'd decided on. I finally found the body, but
the lens I wanted wasn't in stock anywhere. I decided to pick up a
used optic as stopgap measure, while I waited (and recovered
financially) for the one I really wanted. Trouble is that none of
the camera stores I called carried much (or any) used equipment.
About that time I remembered seeing a yellow pages ad for a little
one-hour photo place located in a small town fairly close to us. I
had it in my mind that the ad said something about used cameras,
and since phone calls are free I dialed their number. A pleasant
young lady answered the phone and said that yes, they had used gear
and that they had several suitable lenses for me.
What I found when I walked into Focal Point
Photography blew me away. This is a tiny
shop, located in a small farming community in a rural area, and it
is filled with photo gear. From Speed Graphics to the Canon EOS 5D
Mark II, these folks have a little of everything. Piles of used
gear (literally), a surprising selection of lighting equipment new
and old, even darkroom stuff, all stuffed (literally) into a
two-story building in little ol' Dallas, Oregon. It was like going
back in time, to what camera stores used to be before the age of
big-box homogenization. I don't know if they do mailorder, but
they're so accommodating I suspect they would. If you're looking
for just about anything photographic, particularly if it's out of
production and now hard to find, give them a call: (503)
623-6300.
I have no affiliation other than as a satisfied, if somewhat
amazed, customer.
----
Now, I'm back to catching up on your emails!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: rob.pincus, combat.focus, photography, bloggers,
old.technology, incredible
Friday, April 16, 2010 Filed in:
My Life, Friday
Surprise!
You may recall that I spent some time as a commercial photographer
(and general photographic genius) back in the '80s. During that
period I used a wide variety of cameras and lenses, and probably
spent an amount exceeding the economies of several Caribbean
nations on my vocation/avocation.
Over the next few Fridays, I'll be talking about some of the
cameras I've used extensively, or have had close contact with,
during my career. For those who lived through the end of the film
era, this will be a trip down memory lane. For those who came of
age after the digital revolution, here's your chance to hear what
things used to be like. (For your benefit, I'll work in a solid
rant at the end of the series.)
The camera I've chosen to start is one which even hard core
photographers won't recognize: An obscure ICA 9x12cm folding field
camera called the Universal Palmos. ICA was one of the four
European photography/optics concerns which, in 1926, merged to form
Zeiss-Ikon. (Zeiss also marketed a model called the Universal
Palmos, but it paled in comparison to the ICA model.) The Palmos
utilized 9x12cm sheet film, which was sometimes referred to as "the
European 4x5."
The Universal Palmos was reminiscent of the company’s better
known “Maximar” model, but had a longer double
extension track. The track had two focus knobs, one for the back
and one for the front. They could be used singly, but in
combination would extend the bellows to the full length of
16”, allowing satisfying closeup shots. Once focused, the
knobs could be pulled out to lock the track(s) in place. Even with
the tracks fully extended, the camera was still rigid. A better
large format field camera one could neither want, nor find. The
terminally curious can download the 1925 ICA catalog
and see a full
description of the machine.

Courtesy of
www.liveauctioneers.com
Like all ICA products, it was superbly built. The range of
movements on the front standard were greater than any "press"
camera, and it had sported a real rotating back. The focus and
sliding/rising front controls were gear driven, and machined to
incredibly close tolerances. There was no backlash or slop in any
of the controls. The metal was finished in a deep, glossy black
enamel and the controls were nickel plated.
The 9x12 film was a bit of a problem. While not unknown here in the
U.S., it wasn't available in the wide variety of our own 4x5"
format. Luckily the two formats are very close in size, and I was
able to fabricate a clever adaptor that allowed me to attach a
Graflok back while retaining the rotating feature of the camera. I
was even able to use a Grafmatic film holder for the ultimate in
rapid-fire large format photography!
A slightly larger problem was the lens mounting plate. It was a
circular sheet metal affair, which sort of bayonetted into three
pegs on the front standard. I was able to demount the old lens and
mount a slightly more modern optic, and an acquaintance with a
metal shop was kind enough to fabricate a second for me. The small
lensboard was serious restriction on the size and maximum aperture
of the lenses I could mount, but this was a field camera, not a
studio tool - the slower optics weren't a hinderance in the great
outdoors.
I shot more 4x5" film through the ICA than through all of my other
large format cameras combined. It was handy, compact, superbly
constructed of fine materials, and boasted capabilities that no
contemporary field camera could match. The fact that I got it for
less than $20 was just icing on the cake!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
Friday, April 09, 2010 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, My Life, History
I usually eat my breakfast in front of the computer. I check my
personal email, look in at Twitter and Facebook, read George Ure's
blog, look at all the blog feeds to which I subscribe, and maybe
even check what's for sale on Craigslist.
One of the Facebook updates this morning was from
Rob
Pincus, who is heading for
Rochester (NY). That brought back memories, as in my former life I
traveled to Rochester on an occasional basis, one time staying for
the better part of two weeks. Astute readers will deduce that these
trips had something to do with the Eastman Kodak Company (EKC, as
it was known - Kodak was extremely fond of acronyms and
abbreviations), and that deduction would be correct.
In the early- to mid-Eighties, which is when I visited, Kodak owned
most of Rochester - and what they didn't, Xerox did. Kodak's
facilities were huge even by Detroit standards, all based on sales
of film and associated equipment and supplies. As digital
photography eroded film's dominance, Kodak (which had been
willfully dismissive of the digital threat throughout the period
under discussion) saw their business decline precipitously.
Barely into the new century, Kodak was closing buildings at a rapid
pace. They demolished a few, auctioned off some others, and sold
what they felt they didn't need but which would still generate
cash. One of the latter was a complex known as the Marketing
Education Center, or - in EKC-speak - MEC.
MEC is where they held seminars, training sessions, and business
meetings. Every time I went to Kodak, MEC is where I ended up. It
was a gorgeous campus, looking more like a community college than a
corporate office.
MEC sat next to the Genesee River, and featured a dining hall with
floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the river and a
placid meadow. The view from the tiered seating was so perfectly
New England, regardless of the season, that visitors joked the
windows were actually Duratrans - Kodak's trade name for large,
backlit transparencies. The food was't bad, either!
This little trip down memory lane got me to wondering: whatever
happened to MEC? As it turns out, pretty much nothing. Kodak
cleared out and sold it for about $3.5 million to an investment
concern in 2004, and it appears to be sitting vacant today.
The campus, with 120 acres
and four buildings, is currently for sale
at an asking
price of only $9.9 million.
(In researching this, I came across the blog of a Rochester ex-pat
whose family worked for EKC. She chronicles the decline of George Eastman's
once-great empire.)
-=[
Grant ]=-
P.S.: Speaking of
acronyms...at one point Kodak decided to do some corporate
reshuffling, and the technicians who serviced their large
photofinishing and photocopying equipment were inexplicably
transferred to the control of the newly renamed Consumer Equipment
Service. At roughly the same time, those technicians were given the
title of “Field Engineers.” The in-joke was that since
they were now FEs, working for CES, that their corporate acronym
was to be FECES. Upper management was not at all
amused.
Tags: abandoned, photography
Friday, February 26, 2010 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, History
The decline of Detroit fascinates me.
For many years I've wandered the Northwest visiting ghost towns and
abandoned settlements, and always in the back of my mind are the
unanswered questions: why did people leave? What was is like to
live in a dying town? When did people finally figure out that their
town was destined for the dust bin of history? Did it happen
suddenly, or was it a slow, agonizing extinction?
These questions come to the forefront as I watch the continuing
downfall of one of America's proudest cities.
I'm not saying that Detroit is going to disappear like, oh, Bourne
(Oregon) did. It might, it might not. But it's clear that the
city's contraction leaves much doubt about its future, and the
glorious past of the former powerhouse remains to confront and
confound the present residents.
There are lots of great galleries of decaying Detroit around the
'net (I"ve linked to one or two of them), and Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre have produced some of
the best.
-=[ Grant ]=-
Tags: abandoned, photography
Friday, January 22, 2010 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, Completely
irrelevant
Aircraft, as you may have heard, are vulnerable to missiles.
Whether launched from the ground or another aircraft, even a small
missile can easily down the largest plane. One of the few defenses
to an incoming missile is the dispensing of chaff (small metallic
particles/strips) and flares, both of which are intended to fool
the navigation systems that guide missiles to their prey.
What's odd is how pretty those countermeasures can be.

Even odder, this pic - along with many others - can be found at a
site called Environmental Graffiti.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
Friday, January 08, 2010 Filed in:
History, Friday
Surprise!
Recognize this?

Yes, that's the famous Apollo 8 picture titled "EarthRise." Shot in
1968, it became an icon of America's space program. There are
others, however.
Air & Space magazine has put together a superb display of
NASA's most famous photos. See how many you recognize.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: nasa, photography
Friday, November 27, 2009 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, My Life
Back in the early '80s, I lead small groups of advanced amateur
photographers around the Portland, Oregon metro area at night. The
goal was to teach them the fundamentals of available-light
photography in an environment that was simultaneously familiar, yet
unexplored. We'd gather at about 10:pm at a local Denny's, then
head out for a few hours of shooting, usually getting home about
3:am.
Let me paint you a picture: say, 5 people. Camera bags stuffed with
multiple thousands of dollars (in Reagan-era money) of easily
pawned high-end camera equipment. Major urban center. At night.
Sparse police presence. Before cel phones. Before SureFire
flashlights. Even before our concealed handgun law.
Now I know what you're thinking, and in retrospect I agree with
you. But it seemed like a great idea at the time!
The exact itinerary varied a bit, but a typical evening might find
us wandering around the downtown core area, through alleys,
construction sites, industrial areas, and perhaps even along the
east side of the Willamette River. (Today area residents know it as
the "EastBank Esplanade": a tribute to a ditzy mayor who was
convinced the way to help "poor homeless people" was to build a
boulevard for over-indulged yuppies to ride their bicycles between
latte stops. Back then, though, it was just a rough industrial
riverbank where bums set up camp once the longshoremen had gone
home to dinner.)
These events were very popular - we always filled our limit of
attendees - because they were, after all, the only way to get shots
like this:

While some of the participants used fine-grained films, tripods and
long exposures (giving me a chance to share with them the mysteries
of reciprocity failure), others handheld their shots using fast
films (often pushed in development) and fast lenses. Both
approaches had their uses and limitations, and the facilitator
(that would be me) had to be well versed in all of it - while
simultaneously maintaining some sense of aesthetics. I'll gladly
claim the former, and from the shot above you can judge if I have
any business talking about the latter.
Today I wouldn't attempt such craziness without an armored
personnel carrier and close air support, if at all. Back then,
though, it was just us, our "steal me" bags, and lots of film. And
the bums.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
The LIFE website this week unveiled a photo retrospective of Project
Mercury, America's first human
spaceflight program. If you look at the picture captions, you'll
notice one name on most of them: Ralph Morse. There's a good reason
for that.
Ralph Morse was a staffer at LIFE (and later TIME) when he was
assigned to cover a press conference in Washington in 1959. That
event was the announcement of the Project Mercury astronauts.
Sensing the long term importance of the announcement, Morse
contacted his editor and told him that there would be a lot of
public interest in these men. He suggested that the magazine assign
someone permanently to NASA, which was then less than a year old.
Morse got the job.
It was a good choice; Morse had already been with LIFE for over a
decade, bringing back some of the most well known pictures in their
archives. NASA was a fledgling agency, and Morse had gotten himself
in on the ground floor of what would become the Space Race.
Over the next couple of decades, Morse would become an insider at
NASA. He got exclusive access, and was even allowed to place his
cameras in restricted areas his competition at NEWSWEEK couldn't
even dream of. Along the way, he produced some of the most iconic
images of the various NASA projects.
It all started at that press conference, where an idiot reporter
(some things never change) asked the astronauts which of them
expected "to come back alive." Morse grabbed this shot of the
astronauts showing their mettle:
Some of his shots were very well known...
...while others weren't:

All of them, though, came from the camera of an inventive genius
whose enthusiasm
for his job knew no bounds. Were it not for his eye, his ingenuity,
and his nose for news, we wouldn't have this great visual record of
our nation's greatest achievements. George Hunt, at one time LIFE's
Managing Editor, said “if LIFE could afford only one
photographer, it would have to be Ralph Morse.”
Ralph is now 92, but unfortunately for us gave up photography some
years ago.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: nasa, photography
Friday, September 11, 2009 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, Completely
irrelevant

Nothing witty or exploratory today, just a great picture of star
trails from the Astronomy
Picture Of The Day website. I post it because
it's beautiful, intriguing - and shot right here in the state of
Oregon.
Grant's Pass, to be precise. (I couldn't
help indulging in just a bit of narcissism!)
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: oregon, photography
Friday, August 07, 2009 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, History
I've featured a number of decay-chronicling websites, but this one
is unique. onlynDetroit.com doesn't just show the
deterioration of a once-proud city, it gives the why and how of
urban decay. In its many pages you'll learn the stories behind the
landmarks, where they came from and how they happened to get where
they are today. Along with the analysis is the occasional
prescription for renewal, and a happy ending or two as some
eyesores get refurbished and reopened.

The photography isn't of the same standards as some urban
exploration sites, spelling errors abound, and the text sometimes
describes scenes for which there are no pictures - but those are
minor quibbles that only help prove that the whole is greater than
the sum if its parts. onlynDetroit.com is obviously the work of
people who have great affection for their city despite its flaws,
and the same can be said of their site. A great place to kill some
free time.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: abandoned, photography
We learned this week that Kodak finally pulled the plug on what was their
signature film, Kodachrome. Photographers will fondly
recall the fine grain, superb resolution, and vibrant color of
Kodak's iconic product, while everyone else will remember Paul
Simon's hit song by the same name:
Kodachrome
They give us those nice bright colors
They give us the greens of summers
Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, Oh yeah
I got a Nikon camera
I love to take a photograph
So mama don't take my Kodachrome away
Kodachrome wasn't the first time the company had influenced musical
history, however. It's true that Kodachrome was invented by a
couple of amateur chemists who were also
professional musicians, but the influence I'm
thinking of goes far deeper.
As it happens George Eastman, the founder of Eastman Kodak, was an
aspiring flutist and music fanatic. His love of making and
listening to music led him to found the Eastman School of Music, cementing his place in
American music history.
Now you're probably thinking "Eastman School of Music? Never heard
of it!" Most people, when asked to name a prestigious music school,
immediately think "Juilliard." While Juilliard is a fine school and
better known to the general public, those with a deep knowledge of
musical education will often quietly refer you to Eastman. Since
1921, Eastman graduates have enjoyed a solid reputation for being
"musician's musicians", which persists to this day - it is often
ranked as the top music school in the country in major media
surveys.
George Eastman was a remarkable
individual who also gave major grants
to engineering and technical schools such as MIT, and involved
himself in a range of social and business innovations. It could be
argued, though, that giving the world both Kodachrome and
Frederick Fennell would have been enough for
any one person.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography, music
Back in 1980 I was working behind the sales counter in a camera
shop to help pay my way through college. Without being too
immodest, I had a prodigious knowledge of the photographic process,
to include everything from vintage cameras and films to the
equipment, chemistry, and procedures used to bring the images out
of them. (I would later put that storehouse of information to good
use when I opened a unique photographic lab that specialized in
obsolete and obscure processes.)
Because of my deep base of arcane knowledge, I was often called
upon to authenticate or debunk (depending on one's point of view)
various kinds of "UFO" and "ghost" images. Over several years I
looked at perhaps a couple hundred such anomalous images and, save
for one, was able to immediately identify the source or
cause.
Oh, that one? It took me a little time and some research, but
eventually I was able to show how the image was made. I'm told that
the person who paid a tidy sum for that "proof" of extraterrestrial
life wasn't at all happy, but remained unconvinced. True believers
are usually like that.
With that in mind, check out this gallery of "authenticated" spirit
images. Who, exactly,
authenticated them is unclear, but I can guarantee it wasn't
me!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
During the 1930s and 1940s, the Farm Security Administration (FSA)
and the Office of War Information (OWI) shot tens of thousands of
photographs. The vast majority - and the images we most associate
with their work - were in black and white:

However, there were a number of assignments which were shot in
color. That number was far smaller, likely because of budget
constraints, but produced some stunning images:

This
article from Photo District News shows some of the
portraiture from the collection. You can view the whole collection
at the Library of Congress site for FSA/OWI color
images. (If you click on
the Subject Index, you can browse by
categories.)
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
Friday, February 06, 2009 Filed in:
Friday
Surprise!, Completely
irrelevant
When I say "underwater photography", you probably think pictures of
colorful fish or grotesque mollusks. Jacque Cousteau, that kind of
thing. I know this, because that's what I think of.
Think again.

Many more of these unique images at this
link.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
In 1936, an audacious Henry Luce changed the way we looked at the
world. He took a staid publication, gave it a new,
photojournalistic makeover, and created the legendary LIFE
Magazine.
Luce hired the best photographers he could find, and sent them out
to cover whatever was interesting - if not always the biggest
story. LIFE became the must-read periodical for the next several
decades, owing to a combination of superior illustration and good
writing. People of my generation, and those of the previous one,
can easily remember at least one great LIFE photo - if not a whole
bunch. That's what LIFE was about, and it is not too great a
stretch to say that LIFE defined American photojournalism.
Many of LIFE's photographers would become well-known, like Margaret
Bourke-White...

Alfred Eisenstadt...

Gordon Parks...

Ralph Morse...

Robert Capa...

Joen Loengard...

Co Rentmeester...

...as well as many more whose names weren't as familiar, but were
stupendous "shooters" in their own right. LIFE was THE gig to have,
and it attracted (and got) the best talent.
Now, in the digital era, Google and TIME have teamed up to bring the entire
LIFE photo archive to the web. The hundreds of thousands
of images in the LIFE vault are being digitized and indexed by
Google as fast as their scanners will scan. At this moment, only
about 20% of the collection has been archived - but more photos are
added every day, and they hope to be finished with the project in
mere months.
The collection includes everything - photos that have been
published, and those that haven't. You'll get to see images that
didn't make the "cut", those that weren't good enough to be
published, as well as those iconic images for which LIFE was so
well known.
Visit the
LIFE/Google archive at this link.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
For the life of me, I don't know quite how to introduce today's
post!
Imagine taking snapshots of typical 1930's life. Now, do it
underwater. That's it in a nutshell!

These just have to be seen to be
appreciated.
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
I've
previously mentioned my appreciation for the work
that NASA has done over it's 50-year history. NASA grew up right
along with me - or me with it - and NASA was always doing the
exciting stuff boys of that era were smitten by: Astronauts. Fast
planes. Rockets. The Moon.
(It wasn't just spectacle, though; NASA was the catalyst for
technological progress that continues to be felt today. A
surprising number of the things we now take for granted can be
traced directly back to some NASA project.)
We learned about the exploits of the engineers, technicians and
astronauts through NASA-supplied pictures in the magazines of the
day. My early interest in science was kindled by those pictures,
and some of them I still remember.
NASA documented everything, but not all of their photos were of
general interest. A large percentage of their images were never
seen by the general public because the media was understandably
reluctant to publish anything of interest only to nerds. Through
the magic of the internet, however, we now have ready access to
some of those great pictures.
The agency has launched a new site just for NASA
images. You can search or browse
and download your selected pictures, drawings, and illustrations -
some of them of quite high resolution. You'll find lots of
astronomical images, of course, but you'll find all kinds of other
things too.
Two of my favorites from the 1969 launch of Apollo 11, taking the
first men to the moon:
Saturn V rocket
FTW!
If you're a science buff like me, you can spend large amounts of
time on their site. I recommend that you not try this a) at work,
or b) when your significant other expects you to be paying
attention to him/her/the kids/household chores/your dinner guests.
You have been warned!
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: nasa, photography
That's a quote from one of my favorite photographers,
Life magazine's fantastically
great Ralph
Morse, about his rivals at
Newsweek. Ralph, it was said, was of
the "old school" - a term once used to describe a code of behavior,
before the "hip hop" generation co-opted it to describe MTV's
previous seasons.
It's ironic that Ralph's words came on the eve of his coverage of
the first Space Shuttle launch in 1981, because it was
this article
on Soviet cosmonaut deaths which brought them back to
me. The combination caused me to think not only about the attitude
of the gracious winner, but of the trials and tribulations of the
losers in all high-stakes games.
While I'm proud of U.S. achievements in space (I am a child of the
Sputnik Era, after all), I'm simultaneously saddened at the loss of
life experienced by our (former) enemies. I'm not talking about the
maudlin, paralyzing, "new age sensitive man who cries at the drop
of a hat" kind of sadness, but rather a genuine empathy for those
who attempt something great and leave the world poorer by their
absence.
Like our astronauts, the cosmonauts were proud of their homeland.
They were willing to put their lives on the line to advance not
only their nationalistic pride, but something more. There was an
altruistic component to their flights, which they seemed to know
were advancing science and technology to benefit all those who were
firmly anchored to terra firma. Even as we celebrate our own
successes we need to be reminded that we are as much in their debt
as they are in ours.
We see where we are today only because we stand on the shoulders of
all those who came before us.
(Thanks to Tam, who found the article.)
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography
Holy cow, it's Friday
already! I've been so busy, it didn't dawn on me until mid-morning
that I had a blog post due today!
Here's one that I really like - stop-action photography of
water. Take a look - it's not
what you think!

(I was going to write a clever introduction to the work of
Harold Edgerton, but you'll just have to
research him yourself.)
-=[
Grant ]=-
Tags: photography