about the negative

from new york arbor by mitch epstein

shooting film for my own work is the fruit of a long period of time thinking about and visualizing how the print will look, and adjusting my exposure and developement. simple enough, right? and it's a good thing i had done a lot of exposing and developing every which way possible before i started doing it for others. i started developing film at 12, with a step-by-step book on the sink of the bathroom. and not just black and white, chromes too. there were no labs near where i grew up. so i had made all the mistakes to be be made before i handled dozens at first, then hundreds of rolls or sheets a day. all this from the early nineties when everyone experimented with new possibilities to use film. and the possibilities are endless and very subjective. it really depends on how you like your prints to look. i mean, for example, people were shooting polaroid pos/neg just in the hope to get the perfect mistake at the right place. we would receive buckets full of wet negs in black goo (for lack of a better word) every day. or pushing tri-x to its limits. or testing rodinal 1:25 vs 1:50 to really understand the physical reality of the film curve (ralph gibson got my last box of rodinal, anyone else i would have said no). or plus-x in acufine. a surprise for me was t-max 100 processed in rodinal 1:50. it made a beautiful negative. tri-x in hc-110 for bert stern's reebok ads. walter chin's polaroid negs for club monaco. tri-x under-exposed and under-developed for roger moenk's class of click. len prince's glamour 8x10 negs were always so rich in tones. and bruce weber seemed to gain contrast in his vision over the years. the late sy rubin used to bring me his exposed rolls of 35mm (all types of different films with notes written everywhere) in a big bag, once a year, about 500 rolls worth. he wanted to see it all at once, he would never look at it half-way through. there were the 4x5 ready-loads, others shooting with pinholes in every format, with plastic cameras, hasselblad, panoramics. and of course the 11x14 hp-5 of john dugdale and timothy greenfield-sanders. there is a solution for everything, it's a matter of finding the right combination of ingredients. trial and error, testing, more testing... some standards are established for the bulk of film processing, as some photographers are just interested in getting the shot, the details beyond that doesn't really interest them. many times i would ask the photographer, or the assistant to adjust the exposure so i could later make their prints better and faster with more ease.

film can be processed by hand (small or large tanks), in rotary tubes (like jobo), or in a dip and dunk machine. every technique has its pros and cons, every method has its application. i don't find one “better” over another, only more appropriate to the vision of the photographer, as long as the negative doesn't limit the printing. and when it does, i have to compromise the quality of the print. what matters to me is to place the reflectance of the subject within the printable range later. what i mean is, knowing the incident light is one thing, but it is important to understand the ratio of reflectance given by the subject compared to the luminance ratio of the negative on one hand, and then of the printing material. the short print scale of the photo paper needs to represent the full spectrum we experience in real life in order to look real. in black and white photography, a real-life black maybe dark gray, or a real-life white maybe light gray. so when shooting on a negative support, you have to think a couple of steps ahead. how much detail can i hold in the shadows of my neg before i lose my first black on a paper at grade 3? for example. the answer is in the testing. the requiered negative value for a particular print should be recorded according to the intended developement, to adjust the developement from an error in exposure limits the range available to the negative, and ultimately to the print.

personally, i look at my negatives with a loupe on a lightbox until i understand how i can make the print, but i am not surprised as to what i see on the negative: i know exactly what i will gain or lose from the actual scene. and that comes from looking very closely, and testing, and knowing what i like when i reproduce what we see as reality onto a monochromatic two-dimensional support, and still make the viewer see it as realistic. so if you like a dark sky on your print, adjust your exposure, use a filter... but get it on the piece of film, and then, like i always say: “if it's on the neg, i can put it on paper.”

there are many technical books on the subject, and everyone can get something different out of each one. the best thing to do i think, is to first pick a type of film, let's say ilford hp-5, 120 format, processed in x-tol. just that simple combination of ingredients can give you so many results. what gets in the way sometimes, is the prejudice we have toward certain film types and developers. it's not about what you've heard is the best film/developer combination, it's about knowing what you want on your print. there is no universally perfect neg, there is only the perfect neg that can make the perfect print for a particular project. anything else is just talk.

people have come to me often asking for similar prints as a well-known photographer, and my first question is always “can i see your neg?”. because if so-and-so over-exposes their negs 2 stops for their look, i won't be able to match yours if you didn't. i'm not a magician -even if sometimes i'd like to be- i just adjust and reproduce shades of gray, whether on acetate or paper...

the printer as photographer

with sid kaplan @ 25cpw

last week i went to sid kaplan's exhibition here in new york.  sid showed me how to get to the next level for printing black and white in the late 80's.  the show is called "the last of a vanishing breed", which is true in a way.  sid, and most people at the opening, is about 75 years old now.  it feels good to see a master printer show his own work.  chuck kelton is also showing his work now.  they give me the inspiration to keep going, to keep shooting, to keep printing.  and trust me, it's not easy to show your own work when everyone knows you as a printer. a photographer who prints their own work well is admirable, but a photographer who prints for others belittles their own images. i don't know why, but that's the way it is. sometimes i show my work, sometimes i bring it up with people i print for, but there is a great disconnect between the two. the good part is that i have many prints of my own work, and i always try to do something special when i print for myself, if only to break from my darkroom routine.

in any case, this week al wertheimer is coming out with a taschen book about elvis. al is now 83 by the way. i enjoy looking at a book that brings me back to my darkroom experience with the images, with the negatives, with the photographer. al is a great storyteller, and the book is oversized, with 300 of them with an original silver gelatin print inside! the first time i made prints to be inserted in a limited edition was for susan lipper and her book “grapevine”, but i think it was 50 prints then. then, i made 700 sepia toned prints for paige deponte “gaïa”, a book to raise funds to save the rainforests. and others. mitch epstein also has a new book “new york arbor”. same here, each page has a madeleine moment in it for me. for mitch's book, i made 20x24 “ prints that were later scanned by steidl for reproduction, and i made a lot of them 30x40 and 54x68, still fresh in my memory -as i said before, i'm really proud of those prints- i even went to look for some of these tree in real life in new york.

otherwise i'm doing more prints for elizabeth heyert. the last time i talked about it (dec.2012) i thought i'd be printing from a retouched LVT neg, but i ended up printing from the original and making a part of the image disappear for one of the shots. i had done a 16x20, then a 30x40. my next challenge is to print it 50x60. a very different problem because at that size i don't have an easel to move, or a 30x40 magnetic table. once secured to the wall, the paper doesn't move, it can't. and i have a mask over it anyway in order to get a white border. so i have to move the neg to manipulate the portion of the image that needs work. very tricky when working on a small area of a large print. it takes preparation, patience, and a great deal of concentration. so if i really apply myself i'll get it. i hope i'll also get a little bit of luck to make things easier.

to go back to the mask for large prints: it's like printing through a window mat, a passe-partout if you will, and it gives really sharp edges to the print, as opposed to masking the negative. the mechanics of putting a mat exactly -and i do mean exactly- where it needs to be once you've placed the paper is not as easy as it sounds. first of all, it's obviously done in the dark and on a ladder, with magnet guides, rulers, tape, more magnets -the paper has to be really, really flat for focus reasons- and other things. my heart always skips a beat when i finally push the expose button. what if i missed my mark by 1/8 of an inch and i can see the edge of the negative? well, got to turn it off, take it down and shred the paper. that happened to me a couple of times. now i do it slowly and carefully, and when i turn on the enlarger light for the exposure, my eyes travel quickly around the frame to make sure. and 2 or 3 seconds later i can start on my dodging. it's a good season in new york to dry large pieces of fiber paper, it's just the right amount of humidity in the air, no emulsion will crack at least until october...

tempo of the exposure

photo by n.vreeland

exposure time.  can i be in a romantic mood and make a harsh-looking print? well, like everyone else, i put my feelings aside and go to work…  this is why i need to know in advance what i'm going to print.  and of course, i'm talking about printing someone else's images,  so i prepare myself mentally before.  the biggest hurdle is that i don't get to see the original scene first hand.  so, theoretically, i make it up, from some random visual memory i may have of a similar scene.  and after setting everything up in the darkroom, it's time for a first guess.  that first guess dictates how you see the image as a whole, you cannot un-see it.  it's like when i'm asked to match the contact sheet, the artist has already seen it, and if i want to propose another look, it will take a lot of convincing.  anyway, test strips are useless, the best option is to guess very close the first time, or you can spend your day trying to figure it out.  and i did spend days and months and years to figure it out so i don't have to anymore.  now i look at a neg and i know -close enough anyway- how to expose.  and during that first exposure i look closely at the image projected on the paper, so i can get a feel of the amount of light reaching the paper in a given length of time. if it feels off during that first exposure, i simply cut the time short, or add more at the end. this is just to save time, i skip steps, this is part of my job. time and materials used making a print play a big part in the process. it is more efficient to have time to make an extra final print at the end of the day, than to waste it on too much testing. confidence in the craft. and part of testing also includes image size, any cropping, and -on a difficult print- practice for dodging and burning. the most common mistake is to overprint, to be tempted to change the contrast when the exposure time alone could solve the problem. all this brings us to the last -sometimes also first, but typically second or third- test print.

now the fun begins.

there are two ways of printing: vertical and horizontal. horizontal printing works for prints up to 30x40 in., larger than that is all vertical. on the horizontal position the light falls as if affected by gravity, like water, so i print pretending i am directing water in different containers. first i have to explain that the best burning tools in my darkroom are my hands. i can make any shape with my hands, i can change the shape to let the light through at will. to do this i guess one could practice at a sink with the faucet turned on. in any case, exposure time is when every movement i make has to be reproduced exactly several times, as many times as it takes to make a final print, or several identical ones. before turning on my enlarger light i take a deep breath, close my eyes, the printing map flashes in my mind, the rest is all dictated by the amount of time i gave myself. a length of time i can manage, anywhere between 6 and 600 seconds... it's all about practice, it's about printing everyday, it's about not having to think about tech stuff, to go beyond the mechanics and understanding the overall meaning of the image. i take mental notes, i write down what i might forget... for example, if i use 3 filters with a different time for each, i write down those 3 basic exposures, i may write down my burning. as long as i keep track of every move i make. if i miss anything i just throw away the paper and start again. no need to dip it in developer if i know i forgot a dodge or a burn. i let the action flow, move forward. there is no stopping in the middle. i ground my feet, or stand on my toes, or one leg. it doesn't matter, whatever i feel like doing goes, until i find the right position for the right print. i position the neg not the right way, but whichever way will fit my movements, maybe it be sideways or up-side down, i just have to be comfortable with the position. syncopated music works best to accompany my efforts, but a simple metronome would do really. as long as i don't lose the tempo. on prints up to 20x24 in. i keep going, meaning if i have to make 15 copies i make them in a row: box of paper open, one sheet on the easel, one in the developer, another in the fix. timing is everything. i plan my exposure so i have time to put a print in the stop while an exposure is finishing, just enough time to rock the hypo tray... timing is everything...

vertical printing is a bit different, exposure times are longer, the set-up takes longer -it takes a long time to position a large piece of paper on the wall with magnets- and only one print at a time gets made. vertical printing feels like a movie theatre, and i make shadows in front of the lens, sometimes with my hands, other times with cards and things. but there is one thing i always have in mind, it's the elegance of the exposure time. if i don't make that process a step beyond light reaching paper i would have lost interest a long time ago. yes, i know, it's about the final print. but the process matters to me, an exposure can be as elegant as a mathematical proof, reduced to its basic elements. a simple solution shows the full control of the medium. as i do my test print i weed out all unnecessary technical excess and let the light do its thing. i see myself as just redirecting the path. the final print happens when i take myself out of the equation at the right time. i trust the machines -enlargers- and the materials -paper, chemicals- because they provide me with the consistence i need to play. but i never take them for granted, even though if something goes wrong it's usually my fault. and the best part is when the person i print for looks at the print and says “yes. that's it, you got it”. until then, all i have is just an effort at best, with obscure code words like 46 for light, or 52 for white, 13 for camera, etc...

tech: it's all about the rhythm

alright, more technical information? i can do that. but bear in mind that analog printing is all about feel. i can feel if the the light is too strong while i expose. i can feel the state of my aging developer as i get through the day. with that in mind, the art of silver gelatin printing starts with the study of actual prints. i can't tell you how many hours i've spent looking at prints. actual prints that i could hold, without glass in front. prints from galleries, museums, private dealers or private collections. a print is rarely on its own, it's usually part of a series, a project with other prints where a common denominator was found. my advice is to keep things simple. i work with only one developer, i used to work with another one before, and others before that. developers never improved my printing, and neither did different papers. that said, i need to know how to make an image feel right, whether it is dark, light, flat, contrasty, warm, cold, soft or whatever. i've used selectol, dektol, sprint, LPD, etc... all kinds of chemistry. sometimes to go faster you don't need a bigger engine, you need to learn how to drive better. i also print for many different artists who have many different styles. right now i mostly use LPD. it's a powder -easy to ship- and i mix only what i need for the day, it's always fresh and easy to get to temperature -which is somewhere between 65 and 70ºF or ± 20ºC - no need to be exact, just consistent.

so i look at the negative, on a light box, with a loupe. i study it really, i memorize its values, make mental notes of the deepest shadows and strongest highlights, try to visualize it as a positive. then i size it, focus it. i focus wide open, i focus closed down, i focus at the f-stop i'll use, i look at the grain. different enlarger heads give me different results. my 4x5 heads are ilford multicontrast, from 0 to 5 in ½ grade increments. and the durst mural 8x10 heads are yellow/magenta controlled. all are diffusion light sources, which just means that the light is bounced around in a box before it hits the neg. not a new technology by any means, from the 70's through the 90's almost everything was printed from a cold head onto graded paper, also from 0 to 5, but reduced to 1 to 4 over the years... but i'm going on a tangent now. M/Y printing can be very accurate, especially on prints 30x40 in. and larger. even one point of M or Y makes a difference. not much room for error, i have to pay really close attention. when a client is waiting at the lab for my next version of the print, i better come out with exactly with what i said i was going to do. or it's just a waste of time for everyone... anyway, you can try and figure out if 18M is more like a grade 3 or 2½, but it's not how it works. first of all, i use the one filter approach, only Y or M, no mixing, the less filtration in front of the neg the better -exposure times can be pretty long on a large print- of course 0Y and 0M being the tipping point between low and high contrast. the starting contrast is based on experience, and this is when i save time and effort by making an educated guess as to filters, f-stop and exposure time based on the paper i'm using, the difference between papers is their actual ISO. i always -almost always- make a straight print to get my base exposure, the one that dictate which part of the image won't get any manipulation, the one constant during the process of making the print. it's the only point of reference i have from beginning to end. no matter what i do to the image, that portion doesn't change, it's like the horizon line for a jet pilot... you know what i mean... remember, when i make a complicated print and i'm asked to improve only the highlight on the tip of a nose -for example- i need to redo everything else the same, on the next print. no second chance.

so i expose. filter # this, # that, dodge, burn etc. song and dance, flash, whatever*. then the developer, i don't change the timing there either for the same image, got to keep consistent. always agitate the same way. and i look at the first black coming up, at different time for different papers. drain really well, always the same amount, dip in the stop bath -99% glacial acetic acid- for 30 sec to a minute, agitate, then drain well -you don't want to mix acid and hypo too much all day long, it gives off bad fumes- and the fix is just a formality at this point (even if it was the toughest chemical to figure out in the invention of photography). i say a formality because after you agitate a couple times you can turn the light on (print face down). the light you turn on to look at the print should always be the same. if i change that -or until i'm used to it in a new darkroom- i can't print properly. once i know my in-darkroom viewing light, i can tell the dry-down exactly. i close my eyes to get used to the change dark-light-dark for a few seconds each time.

one print at a time is the easiest way to go.

although my favorite days are when i print 3 different jobs on 3 different enlargers on 3 different papers. never tried 4. i like the challenge to juggle the numbers in my head, that is until somebody calls me out of my darkroom for a question and brakes my rhythm. because it's all about the rhythm, things flows when you keep going. it's very hard for me to stop and go, even if it is the reality of a printer...

i don't know what other tech stuff i could talk about. i'm really not a tech person, i don't like to talk too much about the specifics, but i know what i can do with every single piece of equipment and chemistry there is in my darkroom. i'm sure some people could tell me that this or that paper-dev combination would be better. that's OK, the only thing that matters to me is that the client i print for is getting the best print possible on time. and i always add a little something to each print so i know it was mine. and when i show another printer how to match my prints i tell them my tricks for that image, but in the end if they do it their way they'll get a better print. it's all by feel. and an understanding of the client's vision so the prints never come back. i don't like when my prints come back. no printer likes that. to me it means that the line of communication got broken, details were omitted, or i didn't get all the information i needed. i have to ask the right questions before i print. if you bring me a negative and just ask for a print, you'll get my print, not yours. and you won't get your print until i get under your skin, or at least study your images very -very- closely.  and then some days, out of the blue, somehow, i can't get passed some technical challenge, and i can't feel the image. those days, as far and few in between as they may be :) those days i have to accept i won't get a stunning print. and i certainly don't want to make an average print. so i print it the next day, when i feel better. that's the true secret of making a good print.

*i will talk about the actual exposure experience at another time. it's my favorite part.

the craft of printing

everyday i print, and everyday i wonder: am i improving the state of the print as an object, or am i just making a nice little package in a frame ready to hang? or, most likely, am i making a print that will sit in an archival box put in an archival drawer for investment purposes? hard to tell really. but i do wonder. i print a lot every week and there is no way all these prints are being displayed. well, maybe for the length of a show, or until the house is re-decorated, or part of a traveling / ready-to-hang show?

does it matter? not to me, i get to see the prints. i get to see the prints even more than the photographers. i see the negatives, i see the prints appear in my developer, i see them too flat, too dark, too light, wet, dry, wrinkled, flattened, mounted, etc. so to me it doesn't matter really. what bothers me are the photographers i don't print for, the work i like and only saw in books, or occasionally in a gallery or museum. i'm thinking of josef koudelka, michael kenna, gabrielle basilico in particular. but others in general, photographers like eugène atget, jean-loup sieff or henry cartier-bresson. i have seen prints of these people, unfortunately not always top quality -especially in books- so today i'm thinking there isn't enough quality control filtering the prints that come out of the estates of famous artists. perhaps it is best that editions are getting smaller. in this age of printing technology, just the fact that we could print away but limit ourselves to just a few copies is showing respect to images that are special. but is the print itself part of that evolution? i mean, if the artist gets better prints from a different printer, does the value go up? what if a new printer produces inferior prints at a lesser price, does the value go down? no. no. and no. yet, a small mark on a print devalues it. of course, from my point of view, it should be a part of the equation. i have seen prints from estates of famous photographers that were not up to any standard. this is where the art of printing shows its craft, and craftmanship is key to any technical work. in any case, a bad print will gain value again with time, when it becomes vintage...this is what i think about when i print. being a printer means long hours in the dark having a visual conversation with a negative, so the verbal part of my brain is free to while away the hours with a conversation of its own. printing can get pretty physical so the mind wanders. you got to carry a 40 lbs roll of 56” wide paper, then go up 10-12 ft and hang the paper with magnets, to the 1/8 of an inch -1/4 sometimes- and then roll it up through the gallons of chemicals you mixed earlier. then hang it again to dry. luckily the enlarger moves at the touch of a button. and then you just have to brake it all down clean until the next day. it's good exercise i have to say. after a few prints of the same image, it becomes shapes that need to go lighter or darker. they come back as images when i'm ready to roll them up for finishing, and look up one last time at my finished print. this is when i see what really worked, the details that became what i expected, others i wish had followed my lead better. anyway, that's when i go home. sometimes i look at different book reproductions of prints i'm working on and compare in my head, adjust for the different medium, and i know if i had a good day or not.

the straight print

the art of the straight print.

it's always in the back of my mind, it's my white whale, i pursue it with every negative i put through my enlarger. except sometimes i do get one... i get it through meticulous scrutiny of the said negative, the perfect contrast-exposure combination, and a bit of luck. first i have to start with a test a bit light and a bit under-contrast, and then i build up the density -like any print really- then i adjust the contrast. i look closely at the print -developing and developed- to find what i call the first black. that takes about 2 to 3 tries, full image only to really understand how the whole image works, and quick too as long as your first guess is within 1/2 grade and 1/2 stop. of course, not every negative is a good candidate, but i always keep my eyes open for the one, it can be thin or contrasty, there is no perfect neg. and when i say straight print, i mean no dodging or burning, i can use different filters but that's it. i usually know if i have a chance on the second test.

oh, by the way, the art of the straight print has no meaning whatsoever outside of my darkroom, i don't discuss it with anybody (well, a fellow printer maybe), it's a personal achievement that fulfills a need to simplify the printing process. i like to reduce my skills to the most basic details. in order to reach the straight print i have to think like a minimalist and compose the technique for the whole image at once. even more so than usual. i also think about it more between exposures, and when i feel i'm almost there i make very small moves. the trick is to be very aware of the first black and first white -that's why i always under-estimate the density and filtration- that tells me if i need a bit more exposure on a higher or lower grade -or both- to compensate. and this is where the white whale problem comes in: time goes by as i reach just one more piece of paper, one more of many, and i should have moved on and abandon ship, but i keep reaching a little further, just because you never know. eventually reality sets back in, and i reluctantly grab my dodging tool or let more light on the top right corner... then the rest of the printing day just seems dull. and when i receive a negative that had been a straight print once, i know i'll have a good day. a straight print is a very rare thing, but it does happen, and i don't know why i even care about it. exceptions are always more beautiful it seems. in the moment, i find myself just looking at the negative print itself, probably a little smurk on my face, thinking yep, i got you just where i wanted...

anyway, no straight print this week, i don't get a straight print when i print for arthur elgort, michael halsband, jerry schatzberg, bob gruen and mitch epstein in the same week. printing for these photographers is even better than a straight print! it's like watching a bit of the history of photography being made, even some of it is already a part of history. still though, a straight print is something special, at least for me.

so bob gruen and jerry schatzberg meet for the first time, in front of their prints, and all i have to capture that moment is my phone...  i apologize for that.

my favorite lenses

my favorite lenses i use every week:

schneider-kreuznach componon-S f-5.6-45/300 mm

rodenstock rodagon f-5.6-45/210 mm

schneider-kreuznach componon-S f-5.6-32/100 mm

rodenstock apo-rodagon f-4-22/ 80mm

rodenstock rodagon-G 2.8-16/50 mm

schneider-kreuznach apo-componon HM f-2.8-16/40 mm

i just really like good optics. in my everyday i enjoy all sorts of light from different sources. but when i'm working in my darkroom i like clean light, and by that i mean photons going through pieces of glass that have been expertly grounded. as a photographer i am always asked what cameras and lenses i use, but as a printer, well, no one -few exceptions- ever asks me what lens i use to print. yet, if i may, in analog printing the lens is pretty much the only thing between a negative and the paper. actually, it is the only thing. so yes, it's pretty important to me. and by now i know which f/stop works well what print size, or what type of grain is on the film. it's not an exact science, but it's based on my experience by looking at -and making- thousands and thousands of prints over the years. i have preferences of course, and i apply them to different situations. it's a matter of paying attention to what happens to the grain through a certain lens at a particular contrast and different densities. this is an exercise i practice on a weekly basis when i try to figure out the best way to print whatever neg at whatever size on whatever paper in whatever developer. i know, it's a lot of whatevers, but there are so many variations it takes years -for me at least- to understand. on my own images it's quite easy: i know what i like and how to get there. many a times i've used my findings on other people's negatives. i learn by doing, and there is a always a new puzzle to solve. so when i'm asked how i think this image should be printed, i have an opinion. when i loupe a neg i can tell you at what size the grain will start to change based on the contrast i would probably use. but all this is just talk, and visual artists need to see, this is why there is a service called and i quote 'test strip at size'. artists lean toward one look or another, i put their words into values, sometimes i can almost hear their inner-monologues. no, not really, but when i get a negative with a note saying 'you'll see, it's pretty straightforward', or 'you know what to do', also 'you remember what it looks like, you printed it once 3 years ago', then i know i've earned the trust of the person i print for. if i'm off in my guess, it's back to zero... this is one of the reasons i like analog printing. that is also one of the reasons i need to know my lenses so well. coating on the front lens varies, the result being more or less contrast. no lens is necessarily bad, it might just be more appropriate to a different puzzle.

and for large prints something else is between the light and the paper besides the lens, the 2 pieces of glass that sandwich the negative. anti-newton, regular, one of each, different groves etched into the glass, not every combination is right for everything, and sometimes no glass is best -but very difficult on a large print with long exposures- 20x24 in. and under i print without glass, instead i let the acetate expand and retract with the heat from the enlarger, so i re-focus every time i make an exposure. i look at grain through loupes at every size and contrast, so i learn still, every day.

aldo sessa next to a 56x70 print

(matte toned sepia btw)

we had a good day.

no darkroom, no problem.

no darkroom, no problem. thousands of miles away from new york, sun and heat all around, and what did i pack along with my cameras? paper. photo paper to make lumen prints. i can't help it. i need to make prints as much as i need to take pictures. a lumen print is done under glass with the sun, as much sun as possible, and not just for the light but for the heat as well. i look at the lumen print as the sophisticated cousin of the photogram. casting shadows under the light of an enlarger is fun, don't get me wrong, my son used to make them while waiting for me to be done at the lab. man ray used to make great ones, pushing shadows to all kinds of shades of grays. rayograms to him were poems, stories told with the imprints of objects. simple and brillant at the same time. much later, adam fuss took the practice to a new level. he used to order rolls of silver gelatin paper from me back when i had lexington labs. and the ones he made of different fabrics and textures on color paper i think are mesmorizing. and my friend nigel scott, who is very demanding and precise on the silver prints i make for him, then on kentmere papers, now on ilford emulsion with a hahnemuhle base. i love his images, he makes contact prints, cyanotypes of plants and flowers mostly, on silk. you'd have to see an original to understand the beauty. but we are still talking about shadows and light, sort of like printing from negative. shadow and hightlights. a lumen print introduces dyes from the flowers and plants, and i can get color out of my black and white paper. in the alternative printing world where a silver print is considered almost too easy to make -and i'm talking about the basic process now- in a world of experimentation that keeps certain traditions alive, i feel the lumen print has its rightful place. the pigments from the plants mix with the silver and start making all sorts of colors. and to someone like me who enjoys looking at a negative, that's exactly what it looks like: a color negative made on black and white paper from different leaves and petals. a lot of C, M and Y but not much K, appear so clearly that when i squint i can see the full RGB spectrum. it is a thing of beauty so delicate i can stare at it for long stretches of time. and that's what i've been doing this week. high noon is my prefered time of the day: ninety degree angle from the sun rays and so hot it can burn a mango leaf in under a half-hour. droplets of water move from the plant to the glass, and the rest transfers deep into the layers of the emulsion. the colors i get depend on the type of plant, emulsion, exposure and time of day. it is a simple concept but not as predictable as you'd think. anyway, that's what i do when i'm in brazil and need to satisfy my need to print. i'll be back in my (very)darkroom printing negatives soon enough, so i'm really enjoying doing this right now.

happy new year!