Straight vs Flashed

Paris, a long time ago, a self portrait, the tower. Camera at arms length, shot straight up, low percentage, Leica M4-P, no meter. Just a click. But I got it. I like it.

The first image is the straight print, Kodak Ektalure, the second, developer spread by hand, then flashed, stopped and finally fixed.

This print was in a box, a handmade box, with many other prints, made in a darkroom in San Diego that was literally a cave. Printed underground, hung to dry on a clothesline, like something out of a movie.

I forgot about this print. I forgot about all of these prints. They were left in my smoking hot garage, over the years, through the elements, and a few weeks ago I found them, resurrected them. Saved them.

Even through all the heat, dust, summers, winters, they looked just as I had left them, as if they were brought from a tomb.

I look back on this image with hyper-fond thoughts. I was working for Kodak at this time, mostly in Southern California, but I had convinced them to allow me to attend the Visa festival in Perpignan. We were on our way and stopped over to spend a few days in Paris.

At the time, I could not do any kind of commercial assignment, due to my working with Kodak. So, all I had were my M bodies and my tri-x. Photography was pure. I just shot whatever I felt like shooting, took my time, processed, printed in the darkroom cave.

I remember the shoes I was wearing, a style of sandal I had read about in the LA Times, and one I had seen over the years on my travels, Chupplies, or something along those lines. I had two pair made at an old shoe store in downtown LA, across from the paper. The shoe maker told he mine were the last shoes he would make. After decades he had closed up shop and began working in a factory in Long Beach.

I wore those shoes into the ground, a black pair and tan pair. I loved those shoes. I miss those shoes. I thought I would be able to find them again, but after all these years, nothing.

These images, for me, seem like they are from another life. So much has happened since then. Life seems to be much, much faster, much more filled, but there is much about this past time that I miss.

Paris is still there. I think. I've been there since, but don't have any images I like more than this. Nor do I have any silver prints from the more recent trips. I'm working on that.

Flashing Can Be Good

Typically, when you hear about someone flashing it comes with police reports and strange, fringe elements of our society that people don't want to talk about.

But, I'm hear to dispel the myth. I think flashing can be good. Darkroom flashing I mean. That's what you thought I was talking about right?

Flashing, doing what we were told NEVER to do. "Good Gosh Millhouse, don't turn the light on in the darkroom when your working, it will ruin your life!"

So for years, I kept, hard and fast, to this cardinal rule. NEVER turning the light on. Then, I made a mistake. I made several mistakes, all at once, and and new door opened, one which held almost infinite possibilities.

I made this picture several years ago. This is a scan of the print, done on Kodak Ektalure paper, a gem of the distant photographic past, a legend if you will. Ektalure was unique. It was also loaded with Cadmium, a not so great part of our distant past, at least in analog terms. Cadmium, a heavy metal, is still around in many forms today. Just ask our toxic barge operators, the guys in clean suits.

Anyway, back to my ramble. I had this print half in, half out of the developer, was running my hand over it for some reason, then accidently turned the light on. Realized my mistake, turned the light off, stopped, fixed, and went, "Huh."

Then the gloves were off. The darkroom was filled with flying developer, rubber gloves, spray bottles, flashlights, those green sticks that glow in the dark, fireworks, gasoline and jet fuel.

Other printers quickly moved away, realizing how far I would take this new technique.

This, a contact sheet, I believe from Southern France, gypsies. There are other flashed prints from this series, others I will upload in the coming days.

I thought, all those years ago, that these prints would fade, wouldn't last, but they look exactly like the day I made them. Crazy I know.

My scanner doesn't fit an 11x14 prints, but you'll get the idea.

By the way, those two frames that are squared. My edits. I remember shooting those. Leica M4-P, 28mm. Right at the barely handholdable level. I was so close to that guy on the left, a stranger, and was holding my breath, knowing I was probably going to get a little camera movement. It was so quiet, and I was still able to squeeze off a few frames.
Flash on people.