[pinhole-discussion] Pinhole "vision"
It never fails to amaze me what a few words will cause... sort of like the flapping of a butterfly's wings in China affecting the weather in the US. regards Andy Schmitt Computerist, Photographer, Slayer of Dragons All opinions expressed are mine... Unless otherwise stated or REALLY stupid www.aandy.org - not non-profit on purpose Head of Photography, Peters Valley Craft Center
[pinhole-discussion] Pinhole "vision"
I've been meaning to post some thoughts in reply to Andy's email of a couple weeks ago, but in the new year I've been dragging my rear end. Sorry. Andy, you posted your 12/30 suggestion in reply to my bemused wonderings about how one goes about getting 25mm of bellows out of 4x5. Your suggestion intrigued me. So last week I made a pinhole camera out of an empty 25-sheet box of 4x5. I felt pretty excited at the prospects. It turned out to be an adventure, though not along lines I'd **planned** it to be. I went out into the desert here, armed w/ my "camera", plus a clamp so I could attach it to my tripod, and a #29 filter, and a changing bag, and some additional film. But that was all. No bag of goodies. No Polaroid back. Nothing. Strangely, I immediately felt naked, having no authentic EQUIPMENT in hand, not even an actual camera. I felt child-like, too, having a FAKE camera in hand. No, not a fake camera but a toy, something as much like a true camera as a child's invisible teddy bear is like a real friend. Very strange. It also made me appreciate that bona fide equipment pushes the spectators aside, quiets them, impresses them or at least chases them away. Suddenly all I was doing was playing Mr. McGoo: only I knew that what I was doing was genuine. Or rather, only I hoped it was. Everyone else would have thought I was a lunatic. The changing bag was practically a disaster. Squatting on the desert floor, in the dust, fumbling for pieces of tape inside the bag, so I could make the film hold to the camera back, failing to get the "lens cap" taped on precisely -- all of it made me feel like a kid again. A stupid one. And I didn't go there to feel like a kid, I went there to take great photos. I went there to express my vision. G. After fixing them, I eagerly pulled the sheets out of the developing tank -- and discovered that I could see straight through all four of them! They were perfectly clear. I nearly threw them all away. Turned out that at 18mm, the image circle is only about 50mm, which is not very much on a 4x5 sheet of film. But they did turn out, all of them. And they are so very magical, too. Two landscapes, an interior, and even a tabletop! Maybe good, maybe bad, I don't know. Who cares. They were only an experiment. But I will say this: the "eye" that recorded those images was not my eye. I have no idea whose eye that was, or who could ever see like that. If today we lived in the Middle Ages, perhaps I would believe that an angel (devil?) guided my unknowing hand. Then something happened that was like an episode from a Jorges Luis Borges story. For it was two days later that I received M. Jean Dabaus' delightful and profoundly timely email about the "eye", in which he quoted Evgen Bacvar's question. I am not a blind photographer, and I am not going to try to sound as though I comprehend the concept. Of course I do not, I cannot. Yet -- yet, I myself did stand out there naked to the world with this silly little cardboard box of a camera. I had an idea, yes, but I had no idea what that clumsy camera would see, what it even was capable of seeing. Truly "shots in the dark", to borrow a phrase. So when I read Jean's words, I thought to myself, how did he know?! Why, I recognize this problem. In a way (respectfully), in a way I realized that when I was out there that day, I was indeed a blind photographer. I had no idea what I was seeing. I had no idea what image I would achieve, or even whether I would achieve any image at all. All I was armed with was a vision (a cloudy one...), and a hope -- or not even really a hope, but a wish -- that we (my silly camera and I) would reach a kind of agreement. If not, then perhaps at least we would produce a picture I could live with. But what would happen? I had no idea, absolutely none. For me, after all these years of seeing the image follow so closely on the heels of conceived idea, this was very, very uncomfortable. Fun, but uncomfortable. Years ago when I was in high school, I had a curious experience with a Jesuit. We did an exercise. This person blindfolded me, and then proceeded to lead me down the street. It was about trust. I would only be safe, I would only get where I needed to go, by clutching the hand of a person I'd just met. Clutching a hand can be an extremely uncomfortable experience if (1) we do not know the person attached to it, and (2) we are BLIND. The uncertainty was terrifying. I have never forgotten just how deeply it unsettled. Not so much the idea, but the chemistry of what followed when my sort of person mixed with that idea. So much of what is revealed in an episode, turns out to be about the person it reveals in us, RATHER THAN about the nature of the episode itself. Following Andy's suggestion led me into an exciting -- and also a troubling -- experience, AS A PHOTOGRAPHER. What was marvelous, was to receive Jean's insight literally within hours. As though he'd been watching, or worrying over me personally. Of course, J
Re: [pinhole-discussion] Pinhole "vision"
Well put. I'll briefly share a similar experience.I had wondered what sort of images I might get with "spontaneous pinholes", naturally occuring small apertures. I took a cardboard box 20" long, taped 8x10 paper inside one end, cut an opening in the other and attached a Ritz soda cracker over the hole with peanut butter, light proofed it by putting the whole apparatus in a black plastic garbage bag with only the tiny hole in the cracker showing, and made my exposure. Wonderfully sharp and clear view of the houses across the street. I then proceeded to do a series of images of various vegetables and fruits with the same setup, "photographing food with food". The last image was of leeks, which I then cooked in a soup and ate. My dog licked the cracker off the end of the camera. True story. I posted a few of the images here a year or so ago. - Original Message - From: "Michael Healy" To: Sent: Sunday, January 12, 2003 10:41 PM Subject: [pinhole-discussion] Pinhole "vision" > I've been meaning to post some thoughts in reply to Andy's email of a couple > weeks ago, but in the new year I've been dragging my rear end. Sorry. > > Andy, you posted your 12/30 suggestion in reply to my bemused wonderings > about how one goes about getting 25mm of bellows out of 4x5. Your suggestion > intrigued me. So last week I made a pinhole camera out of an empty 25-sheet > box of 4x5. I felt pretty excited at the prospects. It turned out to be an > adventure, though not along lines I'd **planned** it to be. > > I went out into the desert here, armed w/ my "camera", plus a clamp so I > could attach it to my tripod, and a #29 filter, and a changing bag, and some > additional film. But that was all. No bag of goodies. No Polaroid back. > Nothing. Strangely, I immediately felt naked, having no authentic EQUIPMENT > in hand, not even an actual camera. I felt child-like, too, having a FAKE > camera in hand. No, not a fake camera but a toy, something as much like a > true camera as a child's invisible teddy bear is like a real friend. Very > strange. It also made me appreciate that bona fide equipment pushes the > spectators aside, quiets them, impresses them or at least chases them away. > Suddenly all I was doing was playing Mr. McGoo: only I knew that what I was > doing was genuine. Or rather, only I hoped it was. Everyone else would have > thought I was a lunatic. > > The changing bag was practically a disaster. Squatting on the desert floor, > in the dust, fumbling for pieces of tape inside the bag, so I could make the > film hold to the camera back, failing to get the "lens cap" taped on > precisely -- all of it made me feel like a kid again. A stupid one. And I > didn't go there to feel like a kid, I went there to take great photos. I > went there to express my vision. G. > > After fixing them, I eagerly pulled the sheets out of the developing tank -- > and discovered that I could see straight through all four of them! They were > perfectly clear. I nearly threw them all away. Turned out that at 18mm, the > image circle is only about 50mm, which is not very much on a 4x5 sheet of > film. But they did turn out, all of them. And they are so very magical, too. > Two landscapes, an interior, and even a tabletop! Maybe good, maybe bad, I > don't know. Who cares. They were only an experiment. But I will say this: > the "eye" that recorded those images was not my eye. I have no idea whose > eye that was, or who could ever see like that. If today we lived in the > Middle Ages, perhaps I would believe that an angel (devil?) guided my > unknowing hand. > > Then something happened that was like an episode from a Jorges Luis Borges > story. For it was two days later that I received M. Jean Dabaus' delightful > and profoundly timely email about the "eye", in which he quoted Evgen > Bacvar's question. I am not a blind photographer, and I am not going to try > to sound as though I comprehend the concept. Of course I do not, I cannot. > Yet -- yet, I myself did stand out there naked to the world with this silly > little cardboard box of a camera. I had an idea, yes, but I had no idea what > that clumsy camera would see, what it even was capable of seeing. Truly > "shots in the dark", to borrow a phrase. So when I read Jean's words, I > thought to myself, how did he know?! Why, I recognize this problem. In a way > (respectfully), in a way I realized that when I was out there that day, I > was indeed a blind photographer. I had no idea what I was seeing. I had no > idea what image I would achieve, or even whether I would achieve any image > at all. All I was armed with was a vision (a cloudy one...), and a hope -- > o
