Lighting Never Strikes the Same Way Twice

Staircase in the Hammond Building

On the way to Engineering Design on the third floor of Hammond, I never choose to use the elevator.  Why?  It's painfully slow and I get some early morning exercise.  Moreover, climbing those stairs every Tuesday and Thursday have made me appreciate their design.  The industrial cement and metal helix is mesmerizing (especially at 8AM).  I knew from early last week that I would use a photo of the stairwell as a centerpiece for my blog, and there it is, above.

The pesky flash washed out the bottom of the photo, but I believe it only added more character.  I like to think of the bright foreground as a safe haven—clearly defined and well-lit.  As you go further down the steps, the light dissipates and the stairs begin to dim.  The students on the steps descend into the darkness—a place some might deem frightening, but that I like to deem as a place of exploration and discovery.  They're starting a journey out of their comfort zone, one step at a time.

Notice the power of light (and lack of light) in the photo.  Without it, the "feel" of the photo would be completely different and bereft of the gradient that yields so much character.

Light, and manipulating it in the way you'd like, is a key determinant in getting the photo you desire.  The weather, time of day, and season all play a part in getting the right lighting.  You could, in a way, say that lighting never strikes the same way twice.

As you can see, the photo format of the shot below is slightly different than those of the photographs shot here on campus.  

Philadelphia in the midst of winter

This type of film is called pack-film, and is used primarily in Polaroid land-type cameras (such as my Polaroid Automatic 250 below).  These cameras are bulky, accordion-like, and heavy to sling around your neck.  

My Polaroid Automatic 250

However, this magical lunchbox-sized machine from the '60s produces large frame instant photos like no other.  After cleaning the battery compartment from acid erosion and getting some film off Amazon, I was set.  Don't get me wrong, it does come with some quirks.  There is no built-in flash—people used to use one-time use "flash bulbs" to produce enough light to shoot in dim areas—and the film can only develop in certain temperatures (ideally above 59 degrees and below 85 degrees Fahrenheit).  I had to take my camera inside after taking the photo to make sure no discoloration occurred.  

Pack film is also considered "peel-apart" film, so you never get to see the photo develop right in front of your eyes.  Chemicals are on one side of the film, and the photo paper is on the other.  As you manually pull the film out of a window in the side of the camera, the chemicals spread evenly across the photo paper, and then you have to wait a couple minutes until you can peel apart these two layers to expose the final product.  

Back to the photo above.  Had it been high noon, or cloudy that brutally cold day in Philly, the pillars would not have created the gorgeous black and white pattern across the walkway.  In short, it is the aggregation of many things: lighting, composition, a pinch of luck, etc., that make photography so challenging, but so fun.  Similarly, it's the combination of many factors that make delving into the darkness and trying something new in life worth doing.