ESTABLISHED 2010 - Beyond The Campfire was created to encourage readers to explore the great outdoors and to observe it close up. Get out and take a hike, go fishing or canoeing, or simply stretch out on a blanket under a summer sky...and take your camera along. We'll talk about combining outdoor activities with photography. We'll look at everything from improving your understanding of the basics of photography to more advanced techniques including things likehow to see photographically and capturing the light. We'll explore the night sky, location shoots, using off camera speedlights along with nature and landscape. Grab your camera...strap on your hiking boots...and join me. I think you will enjoy the adventure.
Taking a break from Blogging for now...here are the links to a look into the past...please enjoy.
Every year about this time a melancholy cloud begins to hover around my thoughts. It was this same time of year a good many years ago when I made my first exploratory visit to Oklahoma's Tallgrass Prairie Preserve. From that first visit a passionate desire to return to that amazing landscape took seed and through the years it has blossomed into a obsession which at times overwhelms my need to return. Circumstances often will circumvent me from making the 700 mile trek west to catch another glimpse, take another photo, to experience again the soul calming qualities of the prairie.
I'll be taking some time off from my blog posting duties for the next few weeks. In its place I will re-post a series of articles I wrote several years ago about the Tallgrass Prairie. The series is called "On Coneflower Hill", a four part attempt to capture not only in imagery, but in word just how important this rare and almost lost landscape has become to my slice of the world.
Also, I will be working on a new Adventure Photography Series video about photographing the Tallgrass Prairie. So, please enjoy once again, part three and four of "On Coneflower Hill".
Somewhere slightly over 50 years ago one summer I took my first photographs using an old Kodak No. 1 Brownie Camera my grandparents used way back well before I was even a thought. Even when I used it, it was ancient and wafted of a stuffy antique aroma off its worn and tattered covering. I found it stuffed in the back of an old drawer covered up by a collection of almost equally ancient women's Sunday hats. Oddly enough you could still buy film for that old camera...I don't remember which kind, something like 117 black and white I suppose.
They bought me a roll of film for maybe 50 cents and I went around taking pictures of this and that being careful not to waste the film as you could only take a dozen or so from that roll. When I was finished they let me run it over to Mr. Judy's Drug store to get them developed for a dollar or two. When they were ready I ran over to Judy's and absorbed the black and white images with a child-like fascination. Some of them were fuzzy and blurred but most were at least in focus. Made no difference, I was hooked.
I was imprinted you might say on those black and white photos and over the years even during the era I was shooting 35mm color slides, black and white always held a comforting appeal. A few years after taking that first roll of film I graduated to using a somewhat newer Kodak Brownie Hawk Eye camera, one of those marvelous art deco designed see down, shoot through late 1950's era cameras.
With that camera I began to explore developing my own black and white pictures. I was maybe 13 or 14 years old and my 2 dollar a week allowance didn't go very far. I did manage to convince my parents to buy me a basic development kit with 3 trays, some chemicals, and a film developing canister. They also allowed me to clean out a small closet in the back utility room and turn it into a darkroom.
I started simply making contact prints using the large negatives but soon wanted to elevate the technology by using an enlarger. My parents drew the line on that one and said no...good grief they cost almost $30.00 for a basic one back then, but that was a lot of money, way more than I or them could muster. So...I did what most enterprising kids would do back then...I made one out of spare parts I found around the house. For the lens I extracted the front objective lens from an old BB gun scope. For the body I used several oatmeal boxes joined together with electricians tape. For a light I used an ordinary light bulb inserted into the back and for a condenser I hollowed out a large light bulb and filled it with water. This condenser sat between the light source and the negative holder and served to spread out the light evenly and to reduce the possibility of overheating the negative. The whole contraption sat horizontally and projected the image onto a homemade easel connected to the wall. Oddly enough it worked like a charm and I was able to create good quality images upwards to 5x7 in size.
Through the years black and white has remained a solid concept for my photographs. I will often shoot with black and white in mind, then convert the images once they are downloaded. (Isn't Photoshop a marvelous invention). Black and white removes the distraction of color and provides instead a format focusing on shape, form, and contrast. Story is critical in black and white because it is told through the use of that shape, form, and contrast. There is also a comfort to revisit those days and every time I create a black and white image there is a nostalgic satisfaction inherent with doing so.
Had I not explored the contents of that old cluttered drawer way back then, odds are I may never have developed a passion for photography. There is a comforting appeal in black and white, one with roots traveling back through time to my earliest days of taking pictures.
Great places to shoot can be discovered anywhere. Seems like you search and search for weeks and nothing jumps out at you. Then, unexpected, you stumble onto a location so iconic, so classic in its ambiance, it becomes a gold mine mixture of atmosphere and light.
Took my Jeep down to have some minor preventative maintenance welding done and discovered such a place the other day. It turned out to be a fantastic piece of luck for within an obscure little welders shop I discovered a rustic, chaotically skewed, tumble down assortment of tools, junk, and old equipment, a genuine alive and breathing example of Americana, the heart and soul of the working class American.
"Jessie's the name...what can I do for ya?"
I should have guessed he'd have a perfect name like Jessie.
"Got a bunch of work wait'n on me rat now. Can ya bring 'er back in a cup'l weeks?" Jessie said after we discussed what I needed to have done to the old Jeep. He was the perfect nostalgic welder type. Sort of scruffy with a week long stubble growing across his textured and weathered face. His callused hands displayed a life of hard work with their deeply textured and toughened casings. His eyes, barely discernible behind the partially closed eyelids, cast a look of tired experience. Dressed in dungaree blue jeans and a chambray shirt, he just looked the part.
"Sure can," I said half paying attention as my eyes surveyed the cluttered insides of his old tin and wooden welders shop. "Jessie, I was wondering...I sometimes pretend to be a photographer and the inside of your shop has really intrigued me. You mind if I come back sometime and take some pictures."
"Ya mean of this ole junkie place?"
"Yeah, it really has a lot of character. I can see some really good shots coming out of here."
"Oh..I'd guess it'd be okay."
That conversation set me on the path for a new Adventure Photography photo shoot. The next morning found me arriving with camera gear in tow. Jessie was working on a trailer ramp adding a beefed up gate to the back of it. With the characteristic hum and crackle, a Christmas tree of sparks flew around him and the inside of the shop was set aglow by the bluish welding light being cast across the clutter. A faint white smoke floated in the air carrying with it a familiar yet foreign burnt aroma so common to the welders ark. He stopped just long enough to raise his helmet and nod his approval of seeing me again so soon.
"Mind if I take a few pictures?"
He simply nodded his approval, jerked his head forward to drop the welders helmet into place and started welding again.
The first few minutes were spent just walking around and looking for the right angles from which to shoot. I took a few natural light shots just to see what kind of ambient light existed. It wasn't bad, but I already knew what I needed to do as far as lighting. The ambient light came from two partially opened sliding garage-type doors, only bigger, one on each end and several narrow windows along the top half of the south wall. Even though there was a lot of light pouring in from the opened sliding doors, combined with the windows it provided just enough light to illuminate the edges. The shops was mostly filled with dark corners and shadowed ridges. My job then was to light the structure of the cluttered tables and equipment and provide not only adequate light, but a direction to the light as well. Also, I wanted to add some color, just enough to accent the flavor of the place, to rekindle a 1940's vintage look.
For the first shot I used four speed lights on stands stationed almost in a straight row. Each light was covered with an warming gel, just enough to cast a late afternoon style of evening light across the scene. The dark nature of the place seemed to swallow the light and it took a bit of power output to cast enough light into the corners to illuminate the place. After adjusting the power setting for each light I took several tests shots, then readjusted the lights until I got the look I wanted. The color images looked great, but in the back of my mind a sepia toned black and white image lived for each of these images.
For a couple of the shots I asked Jessie to stand in and give me his classic welders look. He seemed a bit awkward being asked to do such a thing, but all he had to do was be himself and the look took care of itself. I used a snooted light to focus the beam on him so I could purposely darken the background and have him stand out. For his second shot I had him sit in an old ratty chair and take on that I'm taking a break look. Two lights were used for this one, one pointing toward his back and one with a snoot pointing at him from an angle to cast a bit of light on his face. I wanted to recreate a late afternoon lighting effect.
All in all, the hour or so I spent inside that old welders shop was one of the most enjoyable hours I have had in a while. My new friend Jessie was a delight, filled with a nostalgic character, and the old shop blessed my camera with its rustic clutter. Jessie was about to hoist an old motorboat off its trailer as I started to walk out for the last time.
"You the only welder down here?" I asked him.
"Yeah...for now. Just me'un the boss. We used to lay pipe for the gas company long time ago. He started doing that 50 year ago. I've only been h're for 48 year."
I laughed, "You don't say...just 48 years."
He cast a giant friendly smile toward me as I walked out of the darkened shop and into the bright sunlight.
"See ya in a couple weeks." I said...and he nodded his approval again and went back to work.
