photography

52 Rolls Week 5: Kodak Auto Colorsnap 35. Trainspotting by Jacqui Booth

 

One of my favourite weeks so far from 52 rolls...

This week’s crop of photos is from the local heritage railway, the Great Central.  I’ve just heard a steam train from my house, so this is still conforming to my doorstep rule, albeit a little bit cheaty as the dayticket for me and the smallster took us to Loughborough, but hey – it’s like entering a wormhole into another dimension so I’m going to let myself off.  And I’ve come to love the railway, in my own way.

We hand over a considerable amount of cash and nestle into the vintage carriages and trundle away, past the badger holes, my first house, past the allotment and friends’ back gardens.  The day is given over to a gentle trudge over familiar ground and I get to spend some time with my lad, who is transported in his own way.  We both have our favourite things – he’s only just stopped being scared of the engine sheds in Loughborough, where I could always spend longer and he loves the trains themselves (you’ll notice I barely paid them any attention…ahem), running alongside them as they leave the platform.  I love the way the powerful trains loom over me…he still seems a little unnerved.  Neither of us quite know what to do with the more over-earnest trainspotters but we love it when they’re swallowed up by steam, big lensed SLR and all, and we always look out for welly man, our favourite local trainspotter.

But you’re not here for the trains, are you? We need to talk cameras and it was with a little leap of joy that I realised I’d overlooked a 35mm camera – a Kodak Auto Colorsnap 35 and, as I’d never used it before, it was duly googled and fitted with film.  Its belly was full of expired Kodak Ultra Plus 200 which was to be exposed at 100 ISO as the camera dial only went to 160.  The idea was to adjust for this when the film was processed but after a couple of rather tense discussions about whether it was to be pushed or pulled (pulled – I was right) and weighing up the expired film element I decided to just do it in exactly the same way as Week 3. Pictures happened.

Well, it wasn’t that simple.  Some were the most woeful pieces of shit you ever did see. I don’t ever want to see them again and won’t be subjecting you to them.  A lot of the time I simply forgot to set the distance meter thingy, or simply didn’t employ enough care, and they were just awful.  The rest aren’t great but hopefully won’t be too offensive.  There’s a bit of film slippage and double exposures but I can live with that.  It’s as well as at some point I’m going to use my Bakelite Brownie again and that’s all that does sometimes.

I guess that the above area won’t be around for much longer in the way that it is now, as the track is going to be extended towards Nottingham, over the graffiti bridge and straight through the barbed wire topped fence in a year or two, which I imagine will mean that much of this must be swept away.  Right now, it’s well off the tourist track and one of my favourite places at the railway. (There is a real ale shed but I saw them draw the last pint of bitter…for the man in front of me.  I pulled up my big girl pants and survived.  Just.)

And so another day out at the Great Central Railway was complete.  We stopped off at Rothley to see the model railway but by then the light was fading and so you’ll just have to trust me that it’s one of the most bizarre set ups you’ll ever see.

And in case you’re worried, I did find a bottle of beer there which was sort of how we accidentally travelled back in First Class.  It was very nice, thank you.

This blog was first published on 52rolls.net

52 Rolls - Week 4: Pinhole Photography: What can go wrong will go wrong by Jacqui Booth

Well, this week was equisitely frustrating.  Of course I haven’t done my tax return early again and I also had a child at the end of the tax year, so come the end of January I’m usually a smidge stressed to say the least.  So I decided to do something simple this week.  How wrong I was…in fact, even now I’m considering tidying a bit more of my filthy office instead of writing this up.  Things are bad.

First of all I made a REALLY stupid mistake.  ‘Use of one your ready made tin can thingies’, him indoors said.  Turns out that I took this too literally and tried to expose a solargraph in waiting.  Of course, I hadn’t loaded this in the darkroom and so the first attempt hit the chemicals and went BLACK.

So, back to plan A, except I couldn’t poke a hole in my coffee tin.  A tiny drill has now been ordered and is in the post.

BUT I still have a bag of empty beer cans (who doesn’t?) so a couple were taken into the dark room where I spent ages trying to find the end of the black gaffer tape in the dark.  By now, the daylight was already fading.

So – a couple of things were tried.  Hilariously (in retrospect they will become so, surely?) I nearly knobbled one by throwing it in the stop before the dev.  Next time, the first tray really needs to be white and not red which causes it to disappear in the dark of the garage floor.  Then, my son – who ignores me normally – BURST into the garage through the fire door.  Ace.

Still, a couple of pics did turn out.

The next day, despite having a billion other things to do, I tried again.  As I knelt on the floor in the gloom once again, I realised that the house mamil would need his bike.  I kept the cans upside down with the paper inside whilst I grappled with tape just in case.  It wasn’t enough.  The garage door opened and on development I found that another bit of paper was BLACK. One was okay…

Still, I found more ways to make things go wrong.  The next bit of paper was hastily stuffed in glossy side out.  Dammit.

Eventually, I got a couple of pictures I was happy with.  During this I heard dogs barking and the inlaws had turned up to drop off gifts, then the phone went and a gentleman from a call centre far far away got a few words of…umm…advice.


Final negatives were enhanced by handling post greasy Chinese takeaway.  My Dad asked me why I was doing this, and I really couldn’t give a good answer.

Technical shit:
Exposure times.  Mad guesses centred around this http://www.lilblueboo.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/08/exposuretimes1.jpg
Dev: 2 mins
Stop: 30 seconds
Fix: 2 mins

Dried on a line – and the radiator which was a further mistake that made them go all curly.

Oh – then I left the sewing machine out in torrential rain…*

So, pinhole photography?  Just DON’T GO THERE!  Well, not again in a hurry.

*Dear Karen – the sewing machine has its cover on and seems unscathed.

This blog was first published on 52rolls.net

Brewdog Summer Exhibition by Jacqui Booth

I've got five of my Instagram pics in the Beer is Art Spring/Summer Exhibition, Brewdog, Leicester, from 28th April 2016, until...whenever the Brewdog summer ends!  I'm guessing they'll be there until September if the brackets hold.*

The pics are actually from the tail end of my pictorial grumblings "Leicestershire: A Difficult Place to Love" in which I photographed the many reasons why I'm disgruntled with the county I find myself in.  I gather that there are people who truly love Leicestershire.  Not me though.  My whingings must have been as unwelcome as fingernails on the blackboard.

Still, on I went.  Then I started to spend more time in the City Centre, and you know what?  It's still undeniably grotty in places but I don't mind it so much.  Perhaps it's because I spent so long working there but I actually have a kind of affection for it.  And so I began to mellow.

Seeing as Brewdog is slap bang in the City Centre I chose these pictures for their Summer Exhibition...

Inside

Inside

Flyover

Flyover

Imagine waking tomorrow and all music has disappeared

Imagine waking tomorrow and all music has disappeared

19

19

Regeneration

Regeneration

And here's a couple of them hung.  Yeah, I should have tried to do a good job but I was off to get my tea and head to a gig, so another time perhaps!

Thanks to Brewdog for having me again :)

*  A debt of gratitude goes to JMD's Hardware in Mytholmroyd, West Yorkshire which was where I found myself with my family when I should have been at home being better prepared.  The nice lady, in her post flood-damaged recently refitted shop, cheerily sold me brackets, screws, a drill bit and some really bloody strong glue, without which I would have had to forego submitting my pictures and the house mamil would have experienced a simmering resentment for the entire summer.

 

52 Rolls - Week 3: Canon AE-1. Ghosts by Jacqui Booth

Well, 36 shots is a lot to take.  35 came out okay (one was of me) and it seems a heck of a lot to inflict on folk, but praps if I make them small it won’t be so bad?

I continued with my idea of starting at my doorstep and working outwards.  I was interested to find that if I felt self conscious taking a shot it came out wonky – so a couple have been straightened up in Lightroom to overcome my ineptness when taking photos as my neighbours whizz past in their cars (I tend to be greeted with “I saw you…” which is kinda worrying).

There’s three main things going on here – the park, the fields near the house and the graveyard which is stupendously popular for some reason.  Try as I might to loiter around on my own I always find myself skirting around avoiding folk who drive in, do whatever it is you do at graves, and drive off again.  One of these days I fear someone is going to give me an earful (perhaps someone I lobbed a snail at, but that’s another story).

The park was sad.  There’s no two ways about it.  Full of memories of the kids being small.  Not always good ones.  We are unfortunately to be blessed with a familial group of children who we’ll call the Twatlets.  Feeling safety in numbers they managed to make sure that my eldest’s visits to the park were generally unpleasant.  But even the benches make me sad.  Memories of talking with other exhausted mums about our worries for our children, which haven’t necessarily abated over time.  But there’s happy stuff too – endless stamping across the tiny play fort, getting dizzy on the roundabout, or on the climbing frame with my tiny cousins.  But very much a mixed bag of emotions that wasn’t an easy thing to take.  I stayed and sat for a while, until a bewilderingly shouty dog owner came in and started stomping around.  Time to leave.
 

The next day was a bit of a tour of my old favourites.  The two fields are a familar place where I can just about pretend I’m somewhere else, though one was too muddy to bother with.  The mud v reward quotient near home is very low and I’ve learned not to bother.  I went as far as graffiti bridge and headed back.  On the plus side I had the place to myself – a real rarity round here, where there are people EVERYWHERE.  I explored a new bit near the railway bridge on the other side of the road where I marvelled at the ability of stoned folk navigating the steep dirt path a couple of years ago.  Not that I saw them, but as I stood on the bridge in the dark I could hear (and smell) them…so I let off my camera flash.  All went quiet and I giggled all the way home, knowingly imagining their paranoid befuddlement.

And so onto the graveyard with its iron railings, lurid flower displays, sad fake roses and my fave one armed cherubim.  And strangely constant stream of visitors.  Christ, it’s a popular place.

Then – after bottling it earlier – it was time for the lightening struck house.  No-one was working on it, though with my back to the shops I felt a bit conspicuous.  Questions will be asked next time I’m in the chemist.  Late last summer I sat on my bed with my scared son, looking out of the bay window, not too close to the glass though in what I considered to be a wildly conservative precaution.  As I sagely spoke about how safe we were, there was an almighty bang.  Lightening had struck and a protective urge (that I was relieved to find I had) caused me to cover my scrawny lad.  Still, the utter danger of the situation was not quite realised until the three fire engines arrived and flames licked ferociously out of the gable end.  My kids now have pretty good reason not to feel reassured by anything I say…

So that’s it.  I guess I should do the technical stuff.  In fact – let’s have a heading:

Technical Shit: Cold water developed

Expired Kodak Colour Film ISO 200

Pre soak 20 deg water 2-3 mins, with waggles
Dev 20 mins at 22 deg, inverted and stuff continuously for 15 seconds, then agitated every 30 seconds
Water rinse 20 deg 2.5 mins, with waggles
Bleach 10 mins, agitated every 30 seconds
Water rinse 20 deg 2.5 mins, with waggles
Fix 10 mins, agitated every 30 seconds
Water rinse 20 deg 2.5 mins, with waggles
Gloves on (at last?)
Stabiliser, in a jug, film chucked in for a minute

Hung in garage, gloves off, accidentally handled carcinogen covered film whilst wet anyway.  Duh.
Moment of panic that nothing had happened.
Relief.

This blog was first published on 52rolls.net

52 Rolls - Week 2: Holga, the mustard one… by Jacqui Booth

Ah, week two.  Well, let’s just say I’m better prepared for week 3, but this was a bit of a landmark week for me as, after taking loads of advice, I developed my own film whilst the male things watched Star Wars.  Of course, the kids stormed the kitchen for snacks the moment the tricky develop/30 second stop/fix needed doing, but hey.  I have pictures.

For the purposes of 52 rolls, to make things extra difficult, I have a cunning plan.  For years I’ve worked for a website that started with the maxim of starting at your doorstep and working outwards (that’s you, Cathy C).  Of course, the philosophy has now changed but I’m darn well going to reclaim this idea, so that hopefully there will be some sort of aim to my 52 rolls plan, rather than wazzing away a lot of film and chemicals.  I will of course digress often, as the website did, to meet needs as they happened – but hopefully there will always be a few pictures that follow this path.

So, last week featured my inner sanctum – physically in the form of my front room.  I’m going to get all the way out to the back garden this week.  Get me.  This ties in with some very grumpy posts I’ve been adding to Instagram called Leicestershire: A difficult place to love.  Probably the least I say on this subject the better, but perhaps I’ll grow to like it a bit more over the next few weeks? Hmm.

I’m not going to list all the developing times (though I’ve had to give in and note them down on the film backing paper) but I am going to vaguely wonder what made my film mottled, as has happened before with a different film/developer.  It could be the mustard Holga I borrowed…but it’s most likely my general lack of care and attention that means that the cameras are kept in my office conservatory – not a room known for it’s temperate climate.  It is ICY right now.

I’m also going to give a little bit more thought to perhaps not getting the negatives covered in dust.  But then life is short and I probably don’t care that much.  Better to get on and get things done!

And a few leftovers from week 1, still hanging around, like festive stilton in the fridge.

This blog was first published in January 2016 on 52rolls.net