Alba Fucens, a few miles north of Avezzano (Abruzzo), dates back to the 4th century BC. Perched above the ruins of the main archeological site, sits this Amphitheatre, where legionnaires stationed at the Roman outpost once cheered battling Gladiators.

Alba Fucens was completely devastated by an earthquake, but recent excavations are beginning to show the size and complexity of the city. As seems the case with so many of Abruzzo’s treasures, a visit at almost any time will be a fairly solitary experience. This photograph was made in 2010. Circling the amphitheatre, I wanted to show its structure within the context of such beautiful, expansive surroundings.
I took a few frames on my trusty Mamiya C3, loaded with Ilford FP4. With an escape route for the gladiators to the bright landscape just beyond, this was my favourite.

a fashion film, Aravore AW2011

My first children’s fashion film – commissioned by Aravore to promote the Autumn and Winter 2011 clothing collection. Combining moving imagery with traditional still photography campaigns is becoming more popular, as channels for the distribution of rich media grow.  Although my focus is very much on producing wall art for private commission; having trained in film production for several years, I find the coming together of ‘still’ and ‘motion’ incredibly interesting.

As with the stills campaign, the idea behind the film was to create a slightly antiquated aesthetic; as though the audience were observing a behind the scenes look into a studio of old.  Fashion films tend to be quite devoid of linearity, but we hoped to suggest progression by beginning the film with slower, more thoughtful photography and action from the children.  We would then finish with energetic footage and behaviour as the traditional, well mannered photography session deteriorated into something more modern and playful.  Of course, film direction cannot readily be given to children, so our narrative and expectations were quite fluid. I suggested a number of games we could play that would illicit certain responses, and used the music (composed specifically for this film) to reinforce the tempo and mood.

For those with technical interests; the film was made on a Canon 5DII with a Zacuto Cinema Rig. I used a 50mm throughout, shooting through various types of diffusion to soften the image. The scene was lit with a 4ft, 4 tube Kino Flo, a hand-held reflector for fill on the tighter shots, and a Dedo to pick out details here and there. I kept the lighting as straight forward and broad as possible, expecting the children to move about quite freely.  I also knew that from a safety and time saving point of view, moving lighting whilst the children were around would not be possible.

I hope to do more fashion films in the future, and already have a head bursting with potential ideas for the next project.

In traditional photography we start with film, the material with which a moment in time is captured and stored. Light is reflected off objects, passed through the lens of the camera, and with the point at which the photographer chooses to make an image, is used to expose a light sensitive emulsion. For the duration with which the camera shutter is open, the light burns a record of whatever is in view of the lens… a detailed, direct record of a moment.

When a photographer makes a print, they can choose to commit this image to paper without manipulation, continuing the direct record. Alternatively, they might choose to reinterpret the photograph, making technical manipulations that better suit the intentions, feeling or mood of the original capture. Within a darkroom, under an enlarger or within a chemical bath, these changes happen in real time. They are committed to final form (paper) as the adjustments are made. Exposing the edges to more light makes the print edges darker, while a few seconds in potassium ferricyanide will lighten the highlights. Nowadays these alterations take place within the computer. Not on paper. The work is done before, and without condition that the final result is even a print. This progression has implications, both good and bad – but that is for another discussion altogether.

The creation of a fine print is quite apart from the success of a photograph, but linked instead to the way the image is realised on paper. A fine print is about nuance, expression and story. It’s about interpreting the meaning of the photograph through visual clues – changing the tonal balance of a scene to draw attention to some specific detail, making the print darker to suggest a sense of foreboding, and so on. Ansel Adams so famously said, ‘the negative is the score, the print the performance’. The negative holds the story, while the print reinforces or changes its meaning, depending on the choices a printer might make. For some printers the fine print shows a full range of tones, from absolute white to black, with good density and contrast. For others the criteria does not include objective measurements of what constitutes good or bad, but instead, if I do this, does it alter the way I respond to the photograph. Does it move me in some way, or tell the story as I would like it told? When I look back on the print in a few weeks time, will my choices still resonate, or will I feel dissatisfied?

St Severin, France. LEFT: A ‘straight’ unmanipulated print from my negative, as it came out of the camera. Whilst film does not record exactly as the eye sees, this print is a close approximation of the scene. It shows a likeness. The image on the RIGHT is the ‘Fine Print’; the result of experimentation, several work prints and plenty of time to this about the decisions and choices I made to arrive at this final result. Whilst it is no longer a direct representation of the scene, it represents an idealised version of what it felt like to be there.

The image above is a before and after of what I consider my first fine print. Made some eight years ago, I feel it represents perfectly the scene I pre-visualised when I made the photograph. Taken in St. Severin, France, the foreground features flowers which mourners would pick and bring into the walled cemetery behind. Apparently the wall keeps the spirits inside.
The sky was perfectly bland, but as I envisioned printing it down to near black, this did not matter. Standing in amongst the flowers I chose a low viewpoint and used a narrow depth of field to create a feeling of intimacy and being in amongst it all. Printing this to near black in the darkroom not only heightened the effect, but also gave compositional balance with the darkened sky. I wanted the print to be warm in tone, so opted for Ilford Warmtone paper in a glossy finish. This got me somewhere close, but still not quite there. Wanting some more separation I lightly bleached the print, before submerging it in a thiocarbamide toner… a fancy word for sepia. Ferricyanide works on the lightest tones first, so I had intentionally printed them a little too dark. By allowing the bleach to work through the highlights, touch the mid-tones, but not affect the shadows at all, I managed to have a really nice split of warmth and neutrality. Of course the sky and foreground were darkened so much that this occurred along the horizon line, the point of most interest. Finishing the print in a Selenium toner, which affects the shadows before the highlights, I was able to enrich and darken the edges. This created some added contrast, and where the lighter sky meets dark, or sepia meets selenium, I was left with a pleasing aubergine tone.

BELOW: The print map is a visual guide, used to illustrate the steps taken to make a fine print. A complicated print might have twenty or more commands, and putting them all on paper ensures nothing is left out. When exposing the paper to light, the effects are not seen. The print must be developed before the image reveals itself. Having clear notes allows the printmaker to spot any mistakes, make adjustments to improve the print, or repeat successes at some point down the line.

This was one of those happy accidents. I was photographing with the Holga plastic camera when I saw this scene at a decommissioned hydro electric mill in Italy. I made two exposures from the same position, but forgot to wind on the film between each. The result is a slightly nauseating rendition of an artery that once fed the mill. I was drawn to the simplicity of the scene, and couldn’t help but use the leading lines of concrete structure and trees as the main focal point. I suspected the photograph might be quite boring at the time, but the serendipitous second exposure has peaked my interest enough to post this.

Film used was HP5, a black and white emulsion from Ilford. I tend to use FP4 for landscapes, but with the inability to control exposure with the Holga, favour a slightly faster film. Developer was X-tol, because I get a little more speed than I would with Rodinal.

The art of traditional darkroom printing is as mysterious as it is fascinating. I talk to Mike Crawford, author, and owner of one of the United Kingdom’s last remaining commercial darkrooms.

Please tell us how you first got started in the darkroom

Initially at school by joining the photography club. Later, I studied photography at college and learnt the importance of good printing and presentation. When I left and came to London looking for work, the first job I got was in the darkroom in a photographer’s studio in Covent Garden, and twenty five years later I’m still in the darkroom!

You have worked with some interesting clients. Is there a particular commission that stands out for one reason or another?

I’ve worked for Brian Griffin, one of the UK’s most respected photographers, for over ten years which has been a privilege, an education as well as a lot of fun. Five years ago I printed a major retrospective taken from over thirty years work for the Reykjavik Museum of Art in Iceland. Last month we finished a big show of his for the Rencontres d’Arles photography festival this summer in the South of France. As I spend most of my time in my lab in North London, the odd trip overseas for an exhibition opening makes it all worthwhile.

With a sweeping industry shift towards digital photography, why are people still coming to you for traditional prints?

As the majority of commercial photographic work now tends to be shot, processed and submitted to the client digitally, most of my darkroom work is for exhibitions, print sales or for portrait and social photographers.
These photographers and their clients appreciate that traditional black and white prints have their own visual and tactile qualities as well as a proven history of archival permanence.
The darkroom also gives the photographer (or their printer), the freedom to interpret a negative by the choice of paper, developer and toners as well as the individual control in contrast and density possible though printing by hand.

How do you view the relationship between photographer and printer?

Very important. Some photographers will have a clear idea of how their work should be printed while others will look for input from the printer to suggest different interpretations. Personally I feel the finished print should reflect the personality of the photographer and not the printer, or in other words, the printer is there to bring out the best in the photographer’s work and not show how clever he or she is.

When you first receive a negative, as far as interpreting the image goes, is there anything in particular you are looking for?

Only that it is well exposed and processed! Technically I would assess the image from the quality of the negative but visually and aesthetically I always need to see a positive photograph, either from a contact sheet, test print, scan or jpeg.

LEFT: Embankment, London.
From an ongoing project photographing Westminster at night. Shot on fast 35mm black and white film, particularly for the texture given by it’s grain and the halation (or glow) which occurs with bright highlights. Although they are contemporary photographs, the use of this film adds a nostalgic or even ‘retro’ look to the work.

RIGHT: Fernseturm, Berlin.
One of the advantages of working in the darkroom is the ability to use a variety of different techniques such as lith printing which is often used to add atmosphere and texture to a photograph. This process uses a high contrast developer which changes the tonality of the print. In this example the shadows have increased in contrast while the midtones and highlights are compressed with a warm red/brown hue.

You have several personal projects on the go. Do you think this is important for a photographer?

I do try to work on my own photography when I have the time and tend to work in two ways. If it is a small project, shooting quickly, editing and then printing, or if it is a larger series of images, building it up over a period of time, which could be months or often far longer. Working in the darkroom is a good way of learning patience.

Where do you see the film/digital debate going in the future, and do you feel there is the interest and training needed to sustain traditional photography?

There is a very big interest worldwide in learning traditional photographic skills instead of digital. Often the reason cited for this is that many people now spend their working lives in front of a computer and shooting on film and printing in the darkroom is an excellent and creative respite from this. However, I expect the debate between the two mediums will sadly continue. Digital has revolutionised photography not only in the methods of shooting, printing and reproduction but also in the possibilities of on-line presentation and communication. While it will now always be the dominant method of photography, I do feel that the importance and appreciation of traditional film based photography and printing will continue to grow. Additionally, the vast majority of digital images, whether captured on a camera or mobile phones are often only ever seen on screen, if at all. With traditional photography, the whole purpose is to end with a fine print.

ABOVE: Helgoland, Germany.
From a series documenting, Helgoland, a small island on the West German coast. While less than a mile in length, the island has a fascinating history. Originally Danish, it was seized by the British Empire during the Napoleonic wars, and then later swapped with Germany for Zanzibar. Shot on medium format film and printed in the darkroom using traditional photographic papers.

For any photographer in need of traditional darkroom, or digital prints, I would strongly recommend the services of Lighthouse. Mike is an incredible printmaker.

www.lighthousedarkrom.com

photographs all copyright Mike Crawford

I just love this moment. Between the running and leaf picking; a glance back toward mum and dad. This was a favourite of the family’s from our recent photography session, and it has already worked its way into my portfolio.

A beautifully framed photograph is the tangiable and lasting result of your portrait session. Designed as a family heriloom, each bespoke frame will protect the artwork, and present it in the best way possible. The foundation of a good frame begins with the mount.

Each platinum portrait that leaves my workshop is window mounted with museum grade cotton rag board. The window is cut with a sharp and precise bevel edge, with generously wide borders. The bottom of the mount is weighted with a larger border, to correct an optical illusion whereby perfectly centred prints tend to appear unbalanced.
Your photographs are individually matched to a board of complimentary tone, and the board is matched to the frame type you have chosen. I offer four shades of white in varying thicknesses, as well as a solid core black board for a bolder finish.

Archival is a much abused catch all term, used by many to describe a print, frame or mount as better lasting than most. The materials used for your portraits are not only acid neutral, but lignin free, chemically inert and typically unbuffered. Made from purified alpha-cellulose wood fibre for outstanding longevity, they meet and exceed standards set by the Fine Art Trade Guild for conservation grade framing.

The photographs themselves are hinge mounted with Japanese mulberry paper and a wheat starch paste. This is considered about the best way to mount a photograph, whilst adhering to museum standards of presentation.

For me, a single platinum print can take the best part of a day to make. From drum scanning my film original, working the file meticulously and printing my first enlarged test negative, to tweaking curves, printing in the darkroom, assessing – reworking – reprinting – drying – reflecting – presenting… Even if I hit full stride and feel on good form, artistic indecision can negate any time savings in the physical process of actually getting a print made.

So this week I committed to making not one, two or three images, but fifty. And instead of a whole week, I gave my myself two days. Monday and Tuesday. The prints would be sent to various networking partners as corporate gifts, so I’d be on my own time and looking to make it count. Selecting a popular photograph on the Sunday, an image from my Italian landscape portfolio, I scanned the negative and prepared the file for an early start on Monday morning.

Monday began with a stack of large water colour paper which needed sizing to 8×10 inches – the image itself would be 4×4. Not a fan of sharply cut edges, I used a deckle ruler to tear down the first sheet into six print ready pieces… 12m16secs. A few attempts later and I’m getting close to 6.24, a time saving of almost one hour. Feeling chuffed I take a twenty minute break in the garden. Suddenly it’s lunchtime.

I’m busy in the darkoom and looking for time savers. Usually I’d set the developing and clearing trays with the intention of making just two or three prints. With a target of 25 today, the thirty minutes spent mixing Hypo and readying the workspace seem well spent. Instead of a ten minute setup per print, I’m amortising this time to just over a minute on each – a real benefit of printing in bulk.

Into the office and the first negative is chugging through the printer. There is a strong dither pattern and it doesn’t look good. A slight bump of the ink limits, tweak of the correction curve and all seems improved on my next attempt. The extra ink in the weak UV channels has given a smoother looking result, and the transparent film seems to have absorbed it without pooling or blotchiness. The third negative and resulting print is just where I want it to be, but e-mails and phone calls have meant it’s now time for dinner. I spend an hour masking the paper borders in anticipation of a long day tomorrow.

Tuesday; 7am. Despite having an entire edition of 50 images to print, I’m feeling quite optimistic. With paper of relatively small dimensions, my vacuum frame is large enough to handle 4 sheets at once. Plus I’ve got the perfect negative ready and saved from yesterday, so I simply run off 3 extra copies. My prints need seven minutes under ultraviolet light, so with each run of 4 I’m looking at a twenty-one minute saving on the exposure alone. On 50 prints that is a saving of almost five hours. Add that to a hands-on clearing process of 15 minutes, plus a 45 minute wash, and printing an edition really saves time! The real key is standardising on the negative and chemical process, but simple alterations like holding 4 prints in a water bath whilst the second four clear saves space in the wash sink, 30 minutes per 8 print cycle, and of course water. Not washing the coating brush between prints has probably saved close to £20 in metal costs, and near 15 minutes over the course of the session. Cleaning the negatives with compressed air before each print has added a few minutes, but saved many hours in print spotting time afterward.

Timing everything with a stop watch has felt ridiculous, but been insightful nonetheless.

I’ve actually run over, with my final prints now washing in the sink. They will be dry by this evening, in time for packaging and sending first thing tomorrow.

‘Oi mate!’, he grunts in a lazy cockney accent; ‘What’s that?’. Noticing a touch of sarcasm, I give him the short answer: ‘A camera’, I say. Then follows the predictable punchline of a seventeen or so year old with too much time on his hands: ‘Can’t you afford a real one?!’ he sniggers incredulously.

In his defense, this is inner London, and I am on a night bus with a silly looking plastic camera, photographing the city lights through a misty window. I should probably accept these sort of comments as natural… not that I’m bothered, or too precious about the equipment I choose to use, but now I can’t help thinking what a paying client would think of this primitive tool?! Money invested in a custom portrait session; kids dressed and scrubbed up for the camera, that one special moment when light, location and expression combine to perfection… and I pull out the Holga; a plastic clad, squared off shell of poor design. Sporting a lens, which following some tinkering on my part is quite prone to falling off, I would hardly inspire confidence!

Working with a camera that requires almost no technical input is strangely liberating, and the softness of the lens suits the way I ‘see’ things when in a spontaneous kind of mood. The Holga, and other plastic cameras of similar design are now massively popular, and contributing very puropsely to boost ever declining film sales – something which ‘serious’ film users should be quite greatful for. In fact, a number of the trendy high street shops and boutiques are capitalising on the trend, buying the cameras in bulk (from China) and selling them on at a price so inflated, it seems almost obscene. On the professional side of things, a number of prominent photographers are using Holga’s, Lomo’s etc on assignment, with the semi-recent coverage of the Toronto International Film Festival, a notable example. On several photography forums, wedding specialists have posted photographs made with plastic lenses, and a popular subject it seems is the traditional ‘bridal portrait’.

So here are a few of my recent efforts abroad. If the consesus is positive, look for the Holga at a portrait session near you… The softness will suit family portraits I’m sure, but it will be concealed under my coat, just in case you disagree!