005 – still life attempts

A series of underexposed still life arrangements on color negative film, Fuji Pro 400H. These first images the series were developed with ars imago’s c-41 chemicals and then scanned for a first view because the darkroom is closed at the moment.


You can see the video on my YouTube channel. Click right here (and subscribe).


Scanning has become such a compromise. It’s an art in itself that I am not necessarily interested in mastering at all. If I could not print my color negatives in a darkroom just a few minutes away from my studio, it may be different. Especially when it comes to unorthodox lighting or controlled underexposure, it takes a while and finesse to scan and edit the images accurately. And even then, the possibilities of color seem to remain untouched. I look forward to printing these works in the darkroom. 



004 – how many words do we need?

There is uncertainty concerning the following question:

Are clouds – somewhere, somehow – at any given moment identically repeating their shape in which they have been exposing themselves to us before? 

This uncertainty is leading to a universal non-cloud related question:

Why is there such certainty that the answer must be ‘no’?

There might be cloudiness involved, after all.


003 – still here

In the meantime, these photographs have transitioned into a beautiful set of note cards.
Limited edition of 125 (+2 AP).


Darkroom prints from experiments with my insect collection and strobes on Fuji Pro 400H film. 

It’s ridiculous how hesitant and scared I am whenever I touch them.

Not only are they dead, but they have been with me for so long.

These photographs can currently be purchased as note cards in my Editions. Limited to 125. International shipping included.

If you’re curious to see how I made the prints, you may want to watch this video.


002 – consistency

“Dogs run in circles to deal with their anxiety.”

A person who is uncommonly dear to me described me as eloquently running circles in my own head and getting lost in there. 

Accurate. 
But doesn’t it serve at least something?

C o n s i s t e n c y
Not knowing what I was going to write, I started this post with its title. I thought about updating you on yesterday’s darkroom session (continuing with the production of Dark Chlorophyll), without a connection to our title – allegedly.

 

After photographing my first Fuji Pro 400H (which may be my new favorite color film), I finally printed the images during a slow, but beautiful darkroom session yesterday.
Some technical thoughts on consistency’s relevance for progress in analog photography:

  • Photograph with a purpose. Always. A photograph does not enhance the actual experience.
  • Write down technical notes for every single photograph you take so you can progress and form your own vision, rather than just rely on metering.
  • Work with similar exposures on one roll of film (it’s harder to do this for me with 35mm film because 24-36 images are a lot to photograph. it’s easier with medium format depending on the type of photographer you are) for a more successful, less tedious darkroom workflow.
  • Make a contact sheet for each and every roll of film. Create a structure for your archive. 
  • Print each image from the roll before evaluating – don’t aim for the perfect print at first. By using the contact sheet as a reference guide, it’s easier to get to decent colors and exposure with the very first print. 
  • End your session and look at the prints the next day. Then focus on those you want to finalize.



001 – construction sites.

Unsorted thoughts on a variety of paperweights, almost evenly distributed all over my place. In each box and drawer, I can be sure to find a few Moleskines. But luckily I am an owner in awe of a midori Traveler’s Notebook since some time, which keeps my notes more together and the growing collection of regularly uncompleted small black or brown-beige tiny books is dwindling quietly.
I write to process my thoughts and sort my ideas, since always. And I love books, written or plain. The feeling of getting my mind more under control, however, still hesitates to fully reveal itself. And finishing anything is painful, at least that’s how I imagine it to be, considering the fact that I don’t get there more often than I do. 

After the supermoon in January this year, just a few days after I moved to Zürich, I euphorically went out at night to capture the new environment with my favorite film Ilford Delta 3200. 
It was surprisingly warm, which made it easy to stay outside for a while and take my time with the 16 images the Mamiya645 can take per roll. The futuristic concrete neighborhood and the hyper-modern building I live in myself (never have I ever imagined to live in such a house. I was certain to become depressed in any home without creaking wooden floors and quirky inspiring corners and characteristics. But it’s hard to find something affordable and charming in this city, they say…so I didn’t manage to sign a contract for a creaking-floor-house, but I found this unbelievable apartment with ceilings of 7-meter height instead, and couldn’t be more grateful) build a surreal urban landscape.

– I digress.

Somewhere around 2 a.m. I came home tired, but still excited enough to develop the film. 

Not a great idea.

My maths brain was asleep already, so I didn’t pour in the correct amount of liquid. The white streak you can see on the photos is the underdeveloped part of the film – due to agitation, it is not fully white, but slightly revealing what the complete image would have looked like. 

Wondering if there will ever be a specific combination of illuminated windows more than once, ever (maths still asleep).

1