At the End of the Tunnel

On the way to Penn State at the start of this semester, I had little idea of what I'd be doing in RCL, much less and idea that I'd be writing a blog running the span of the entire school year.  This blog has meant a bit more than a grade for Rhetoric and Civic Life.  As an outlet for my photography that has largely gathered dust in the past, this blog has allowed me to exhibit some of my work and inform about a niche in the photography scene.

This last post will center around darkness and what it means for instant photographers.  Moving along, I'll expound the future of instant photography and how someone interested in starting their own film albums can do just that.

For those who have kept up with my blog, you know that I focus on taking photos outside for a variety of reasons.  Although the weather here hasn't been cooperative until recently, the abundant (sun)light allows the camera to capture a brighter, generally more alluring color pallet while taking photos.  However, modern digital cameras do a great job of balancing their internal settings in order to combat this lack of light.  Using a combination of esoteric balancing settings, or a simple auto-mode, cameras of today can take awesome photos of about everything, everywhere, at any time of day.

Largely taking these capabilities for granted, it's easy to forget the limitations of technology from the past.  Put simply, taking photos inside or at night with an instant camera is a nightmare.  Cameras naturally want to intake a certain amount of light, and without a large light source, the camera's shutter is forced open for longer periods of time, which results in blurred photos.  When there is even less light, the photo just turns out black.

Above is an example of when I forced my land camera to keep its shutter open for an extended period of time in the dead of the night of the Fourth of July last year.  Though the fuzziness adds to the warm feel of the picture, I could personally do without it.

Furthermore, the flash on many instant cameras (if they even have one) is usually lacking in terms of both expansiveness and color accuracy.  Many Fujifilm Instax users cover the flash portion of the camera with opaque tape in order to get more accurate colors when working with subject up close, since the flash fires every time the shutter is pulled, no matter how dark it is when taking photos.

The flash creates a prominent vignette (the black shadows around the edges of the frame) which draws attention to the middle of the photo, sure, but it doesn't allow for a wide variety of shots, especially when trying to homogenize a background, like I tried in the photo shown above.

Other times, when I want more black, like I did when I shot this picture of a window display below, the light-sensitivity made it hard to do so.  Moreover, focusing on exactly where I want is difficult to do with an Instax camera due to the simple point-and-shoot technique that's generally used when using these types of cameras.  Unfortunately, when a subject is off-center or not easily distinguishable, there's no method of correcting the focus like you can with tapping the screen on your smartphones, for example.  

Though the struggle is real, there seems to be a solution on the horizon.  Impossible Project's new I-1 camera addresses many of the issues instant photographers are forced to combat in a sleek, but eye-catching fashion.  With bluetooth connectivity to your smartphone, users of the I-1 can adjust all sorts of settings, such as aperture, flash, and of course, shutter speed.  Furthermore, the camera comes with a rechargeable battery, which should be interesting considering existing film cartridges for this type of camera include batteries—a reason behind the longevity of older polaroid type 600 cameras (no battery means no corrosion).  

Image Courtesy of PetaPixel and The Impossible Project

Anyway, the design is definitely something refreshing, and the features are a welcome enhancement to the cameras of today.  Whether the camera will be a success or not is up in the air, however.  A hefty $300 price tag and the success of Fujifilm Instax cameras will make casual instant film users reluctant to make the switch over to this more premium offering.

While the I-1 may be the future of instant camera technology, this camera isn't my recommendation for people interested in starting their own instant film collection.  The Fujifilm Instax Mini 8, on the other hand, is a relatively affordable offering that comes in a variety of color options, and the film isn't too expensive if purchased online.  There area all sorts of accessories and the camera itself is very user friendly after just a slight learning curve, so get out there and shoot some film for yourself!

Happy shooting, and thanks to the RCL crew for reading and commenting throughout the year.  

P.S. I'll be using this blog to upload some of my photos throughout my time here at PSU, so be sure to check in from time to time!

Lead the Way

On the way to San Francisco a few years back,  my foot was asleep as I lugged my baggage from the claim area in the airport to the shuttle.  Even in my half-conscious state, I was in awe of the Californian landscape that surrounded me.  I mustered all the energy I could to take a few photos, one of which is above.  

Much like the road that paves the way for cars (and shuttles) to travel, "leading lines" in photography lead the eyes toward a point of interest.  They're a very simple technique to implement into a variety of photos, but they're very powerful as well.  Like the rule of thirds discussed in previous post, they add a sense of order and thought to an otherwise busy shot.

In the photo above, for example, the flags and well as the boardwalk, organize the storm of tennis fans heading toward the U.S. Open Tennis Championships of last year.  The leading lines created by these structures make the eye lead from the outer edges of the frame to the inner portion of the photo.  This makes viewers pay attention to the frame of the photo, which is frequently neglected in favor of the more "interesting" subject.  Essentially, it's spreading the love, too.  Furthermore, the addition of the lines adds a sense of depth and perception to your photos that may seem "flat".  

It's easy to get creative with leading lines.  Drawing inspiration from both natural and man-made structures and designs, finding leading lines is simpler than one may think.  Take that sidewalk or row of trees and turn them into a highway for your eyes.  Here are a few more examples...

The leading lines in the photo above are especially emphasized due to the fact that the majority of the photo is rendered black.  The lit paths lead to the subtle silhouettes of a couple walking along the path itself.  The colored vertical lines, in contrast, offer accents to the subject and leading lines that lack in color.

The path in the picture above leads to the subject, who is actually me in this case.  Running to the right, the path's direction and eventual disappearance off the frame implies some future ambiguity.  The dark outlines around the edges of the photo, known as a vignette also adds to the perspective of this piece.  The darkness of the forest left behind contrasts with the wide open field that lays in the background.

Leading lines do more than just direct your eyes from place to place.  They can be used to emphasize a connection between two objects or places, or to tell a story.  While most people know the phrase "a picture is worth a thousand words," many forget how you get those thousand words.  Techniques like leading lines can help you reach that word limit by adding a narrative to your photos and maybe, make them more meaningful to you and your buddies.

Street Photography

Philadelphia's Chinatown (FP-100C)

While my photos largely focus on nature, urban streets offer something different—sharp corners and jagged shadows, man-made intricacies and unpredictability.  While the results of many street photographers' work may look the same, their methods can differ widely.  The type of camera and film used can affect the process greatly.

Say one photographer uses a huge camera with a long, obtrusive lens that also happens to make a loud CLICK as the shutter button finds the recessed position to take a shot.  On the other hand, some photographers go for a more subtle approach, with a smaller, discrete camera with a pancake lens (, one that has no optical zoom and is generally considered more classic,) to abstain from attracting the glances from passersby.

Me?  I'd have to create a third category.  Well, I'll expand with an experience from a day of shooting with my polaroid land camera (see previous posts for pictures) in Philadelphia exploring colleges of the city and the city in general.  The bitter cold pushed my film to its limit.  The overall darkness combined with the emphasized blues of the photos hint at my once freezing fingers that could meagerly hold on to the notably large camera.

Land cameras are neither subtle nor discreet.  Imagine me in Philadelphia's Chinatown, crouching to get my preferred angle of the giant archway (above).  I'm on the street with what looks like an accordion slung around my neck with tupperware on the bench next to me while I scavenge my winter coat to find the metal clip that keeps film warm during development.  The clip makes sense, but the tupperware's purpose, you might ask, is to keep the developing film from spreading the gooey bright pink developer chemicals all over anything it touches.  Trust me, it's not fun.

Though some street photographers love catching city folk in the midst of their daily routines or struggles, street photography, for me, focuses less on people and more on what those city folk create.  More specifically, architecture and structures' manipulation of light and shadows.  Architecture, with its defined edges and predetermined angles bring order to something as untamable as sunlight:

Arches of Philly (FP-100C)

Not only do man made structure bring order, but they also make composing photographs much more simple.  Aligning the given edges with the frame of the photo and planning the shot in general is much more formulaic and predictable in this sense.  There is a fairly obvious use of the rule of thirds below:

Philly's Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology (FP-100C)

Much of the fun of street photography, however, is being in the city where you're shooting.  Experiencing the sights, smells, and people of a busy city is something that cannot be replaced with photos.  I'd like to think, though, that they can get close.

For example, the photo below is of an alleyway in my hometown of Kennett Square, Pennsylvania, and while it might look pretty plain at first, you can look closely to find some intricacies.  Look at the stairs and the light on the stairwells.  The various depths and heights coupled with careful composition.  Kennett Square looks like a quintessential little town from the outside, and for the most part, it is.  Look deeper into its cafes, restaurants, and people, though, and the best parts are revealed. 

Kennett Square (FP-100C)

Anyway, who says you need a huge city to take street photography?

"You Gotta Let Me Fly!"

On the way to the Smithsonian's National Zoo,  I looked outside the car window to see the stratus clouds dominating the sky as we zoomed across the Potomac river.  It was spring break, and the weather was atrociously abnormal, but in a good way.  Sunny with low humidity and and high of 83 degrees Fahrenheit, it was anything but a normal start to March in the northeast.  I guess I was in D.C., though.

We got to the zoo, and it was completely packed.  Unfortunately, it was technically still winter so many of the exhibits that day were vacant and left kids and adults alike looking for creatures in their cages to no avail.  However, the biggest recent attraction of all was awake, and munching away at some bamboo, as usual:

The pandas there—Tian-Tian, Mei Xiang, Bao Bao, and their newest panda cub, Bei Bei—truly served as the heart of the museum, it it's easy to see why.  Their puffiness, iconic coloring, and if-they-were-human-they'd-probably-be-binge-watching-netflix factor all contribute to their general popularity here, and around the world.  The panda area was surrounded by loads of bamboo, for good reason.

After visiting the asian bears for a bit, the birdhouses weren't so far away, so I headed there.  Exotic birds and the mallards seen right here at the Penn State duck pond found a common ground in the humid, enclosed shelter.  As soon as I stepped foot in the exhibit, I was encapsulated in a near-tropical environment.  I could spot toucans and bright finches fluttering their way through branches.  However, the biggest and most photogenic bird had to be the peacock that seemed to have been waiting for a photoshoot.  See for yourself.

The male counterpart of India's official bird, the peacock boasts colorful feathers that beg to be shot in vibrant formats.  Unfortunately, instant film didn't like the humid and relatively dimly lit atmosphere within the birdhouse.  The shots turned out dark and hard to make-out for the most part.

As much as I loved shooting film throughout the day, I couldn't help but think about what life would be like as an animal in captivity.  Considering the zoo is in an urban location, it's understandable that all animals would not be allotted free roaming capabilities, but the more I stayed, the more I longed to see the animals in their natural habitat.  As much as the conditions for the habitats try to mimic those of nature, I know nothing replaces the experience of the real thing.  On the other hand, some animals have been born into captivity, and know of no other conditions outside the zoo.  

As confining as zoos can be for the animals, they serve as important reminders of our world's biodiversity and they continually inspire and entertain anyone from children who can barely see above the railing to old couples who visit the orangutans regularly.  For me, the visit to the zoo has always been a way to visually connect all those animals that we look up on wikipedia to the real thing.  The ability to be in the presence of animals otherwise impossible to find in the wild can be somewhat of a surreal, humbling experience.  We just have to make sure we give them their fair share, too.

Fortune

On the way back from the arboretum on what I'm guessing was the windiest day of the year, I stopped by the Business Building to take a few pictures of one of the most modern-looking locations on all of campus.  Looking a bit farther away across the street, the equally sleek Law Building boasted its unique architecture and awesome lighting.  They're both in viewing distance of the arboretum, too, so that's a plus.

Back to the Business Building.  One of my favorite features of the Business Building, by far, is the stairwells (above).  Not only do they help up-and-coming business majors and veteran businesspeople alike propel themselves up a floor, but they look nothing like the stairs you'll find in our dorms.  The lights that gently illuminate the flight of stairs are straight out of Tron and definitely add a futuristic feel to the whole look of the building.  Though I'm not looking to switch my major to anything business related anytime soon, these stairs and extensive rest of the building make it a tiny bit tempting.  Hammond, our engineering building, has got some competition.

At a school as big and busy as Penn State, a huge population passes, climbs, and glances at these exact stairs every day.  In particular, I'd like to draw attention to how I wrote "glances".  Sure, we have incredible facilities, resources, and architecture all around us, but we seldom take time to appreciate the small details that surround us.  Photography truly has the power to draw attention to subjects frequently overlooked.  Those stairs in the Business Building, for example, may have never caught your eye prior.

On the other hand, there are instances of natural beauty that draw the attention of nearly everyone.  Take this rainbow (above), for instance.  One of the benefits of having some of the moodiest weather around, rainbows have been known to show their face around campus from time to time.  This rainbow in particular was shot in the late afternoon and the photo turned out fairly dark, which was a bit disappointing.  As I was taking my picture, I noticed nearly everyone snapping photographs for Snapchat, Instagram, what have you.

I encountered a similar situation when I shot this photo recently of some clouds overhead:

Being in the right place at the right time is nothing short of one of the best feelings.  Shooting both of these pictures definitely required a bit of luck and timing—something that all photographers need from time to time.  Shooting pictures of something dynamic and catching it at the perfect instant is something that everyone strives for.  But, let's be real, how can anyone make something this amazing look bad?

Some of the most incredible photographs, to me, are the ones that focus on something outwardly boring and bring it to life.  The ability to create art from what others believe cannot become art is 

Soon, I was reminded of the photo I had taken in the Business Building.  The photo of a relatively boring gray staircase with some lights.  Sure, it wasn't a dramatic, dynamic shot of clouds during a sunset, but it was art in its own right.  What I'm trying to say here is I believe we're enamored with the spontaneity, convenience, and grandeur of photographing natural beauty and sometimes, we don't appreciate the boring, stagnant, staircases enough.  

So, next time you look at something and think, "Man, that is the ugliest thing I've ever seen," (maybe it's Hammond, maybe it's not,) someone out there might not think so.  Maybe, just maybe, they might even be able to turn it into a piece of art.

An Ode to Peel Apart Film

Some peel-apart film, including FP-100C.  (Photo courtesy of Gregory Roberts)

On the way to Redifer for breakfast where I ordered "the usual", (a breakfast sandwich from City Grill and some yogurt,) I checked the news application on my phone.  As the tempting smells of french toast sticks filled the air, I noticed an unusual headline reading, "The Last Film For Millions Of Classic Polaroid Cameras Is About To Go Away".  I grabbed my sandwich and rushed to the register so I could read the article in full while I enjoyed my bacon, egg, and cheese.

I've known about the decline of old polaroid cameras for a while now, but the small cult following that has kept them alive seemed up, alive, and running.  Apparently, I was wrong.  Fujifilm just announced that the production of the last peel-apart type film, FP-100C, will no longer be manufactured starting spring of 2016.

The recently discontinued FP-100C film

Most polaroid users of today, who are used to the smaller, credit card-sized film packages will not be affected by this announcement and I'm sure that particular camera and film series will experience continued success.  The Fujifilm Instax film packs were among the top selling products in the camera category on Amazon.com this past holiday season.  It's astonishing to see FP-100C a whopping $20 more per pack of ten sheets on amazon after Fujifilm's announcement.  This really isn't a big deal for most.  However, the story for me is a bit different.

The smaller "Fujifilm Instax" Film

After a surprise encounter at an antique store, I found an old Polaroid Type 250 Land camera, which looks like a glorified accordion with a lens and shutter.  With a bit of fixing up, I finally had it up and running and loaded the camera with some FP-100C.  Then, I took some of my very first instant photographs using the film and its black-and-white counterpart, FP-3000B.  Not only was I surprised at the unorthodox shape of the print that stood in contrast to stereotypical square shaped instant film, but also with the image quality and richness that accompanied the film I had known little about.

Without film, cameras like these will collect dust on lofty shelves:

My Polaroid 250 Type Camera

I've learned so much from this camera in ways that I couldn't have imagined.  From taking care of the camera's pesky film rollers so film does't get jammed, to watching the enjoyment of a friend keep a photo we took together, the camera hasn't served only as a tool that documents what goes on around me.  This camera was the center of conversations at interviews and small get-togethers.  Some older folk would tell me about the times they remember using peel-apart film cameras decades ago.  I remember fondly the looks of astonishment on an older couples' faces when I told them the film for the cameras still exist.  But soon, I won't be able to.  I'll have no reason to sling my heavy photo-shooting machine around my neck and go take pictures like I did when I first started experimenting with film—the good old days.

Fireworks (Shot with FP-100C)

Many of my favorite instant photographs were shot using this particular film, including the one above.  I shot this on the fourth of July, with a tripod set up to make sure the photo wouldn't become blurry.  While the mosquitos ate me alive and the bangs of firecrackers filled the air, I enjoyed some of the show with some FP-100C.

Cameras of this sort have a pretty large following considering how old the cameras (and film) are.  There are some dedicated groups on Flickr for FP-100c and I've signed online petitions about keeping peel-apart film available so groups like those can continue to produce incredible pieces of art.

On another trip to my local antiques store, I found this, from 1974:

Old peel-apart film (that portrait, though)

I've seen lots of posts on various photography forums about these old film packs.  The developer—a gooey liquid that allows the image to process on the film—had tried out, much like the others' stories on the internet had alluded to.  I mean, I did open the box way past its expiration date.

Yeah, I'm a bit bitter about how Fujifilm is phasing-out peel apart film, but I'm glad I was able to experience it first hand.  I might stock up on a few boxes before they start selling for $100+ per pack.  I might stock up so I can show people how people used to take photos.  I might stock up because I want others to experience what it was like to shoot photography in the 70s.  Who knows.  

FP-100C, you had a good run.

Cold Feet

Gates (Instant)

On the way to the Arboretum, I zipped my jacket all the way up to make sure even the slightest bit of wind would not get to the layers below.  Luckily, I wasn't alone in my endeavor up to the botanical garden in the bitter cold.  A couple of friends—for story's sake, let's call them S and N—decided to join me on my trek up north.

The arboretum is a whole different animal when as winter comes along.  Much of the green is replaced by brownish-yellow and the plants' plaques that usually serve as insightful guides are nothing more than pieces of metal stuck in some bare dirt.  However, in the absence of much of the blossoming plants, I learned to look elsewhere for inspiration.  As my friends S and N were hanging around the now-frozen lily ponds, I headed toward the children's area of the arboretum—which is definitely not for children only.  The colorful archways that mark the entrance of the space were a welcome change to the blues and browns that dominated much of the surrounding landscape.  The helix-like pattern used for the arches really instills both a sense of movement and playfulness for the kids.

Focusing on entryways, I shot this:

Enter the Arboretum (Instant)

While the plants, ironically, are not the main subject for this photo, (nor for any of the others I shot that day,) their subtle addition of color and texture makes them a perfect accent to the central building at the Arboretum, in front of the vast field.  It's great to have somewhere so vast to shoot, since a lot of campus is busy and compact most of the time.  This vastness is highlighted by the dramatic clouds that lie in the back of photo above that seem to be moving, still.

A little experimentation never hurt nobody (Instant)

Layering the previous photo with some of the plants that were still thriving via double exposure, I was able exchange the darkness on the bottom portion of the original with what looks like a dreamy field.  The added exposure also amped up the brightness and created a white streak on the right.  Light management is what photography is all about, and it's especially tricky when dealing with multiple exposures on a film camera.

Finally, I headed over to an area further in the gardens, where some benches created a natural outdoor lounge.  This time, I was able to control the light a bit better, using the multiple exposure technique to frame one of the benches in white.  The faintness of the first exposure in the background and color disorientation add, once again, a dream-like feel to the picture.  

Benchmarking (Instant)

As I shoved the picture into my pocket to keep it warm enough to develop properly, (film can be so high maintenance,) I get this text:

we're*

Great.

As all good friends do... we cracked up as S told us the story of what exactly happened.  As it turns out, the frozen lily ponds froze over, but apparently could not withstand S as he attempted to walk on water.  Classic S.  With one pant leg soaked, S was reluctant to head outside, much less head back to dorms without dry clothes.  So, with the help of paper towels, hand dryers, and more paper towels, we were able to get the moisture out.  We managed to do it all pretty quickly, only awkwardly meeting an Asian father-son couple that was visiting the arboretum as we were working on the pant leg.  Using paper towels as a makeshift socks, S,  along with N and me, was able to make his way back to the warm of his dorm.  

Looking back at my time at the Arboretum, two things became very apparent.  First, I noticed that as much as winter limits my photography, it forces me to look at scenes and objects I would normally stray away from.  In this way, winter is a boon, as it expands my horizons and allows me to experiment creatively to get the results I want.  Second, I knew never to try to walk on those lily ponds.  That way, I'll never get cold feet.