That was a first. I've had people call before and ask if they could stop by to look at prints but two women buzzed and I looked at the video phone and thought it was some friends and buzzed them up. When they arrived - it was clear that I didn't know them and they asked if this is where the art gallery was.
Uh, no.
They had a print out of my home page in their hands and wanted to know if I had pictures in stock for them to look at.
Uh, not exactly. I print on demand.
And they sauntered out. I think we were both embarassed. But there you go. No advertising and people looking for my gallery. If it didn't cost so much to open one in Manhattan. I guess I could rent the apartment next door which is almost always changing hands; turn it into a gallery; get in trouble with the landlord; and go bankrupt in a couple of months. There's a plan.
2/08/2006
2/07/2006
Gordon Parks and MF
Speaking of Medium Format I got the most use out of the Rollei TLR and the Mamiya 6. Reason - those were cameras that I could easily take with me. Light. Easy to slip into a bag. You use what you've got with you. Who would go out for a walk with the Pentax 67? Add a couple of lenses to the Pentax and you had a bad backache on the way.
Anyway, I felt most comfortable with the Mamiya 6 (even more so than with the Mamiya 7 which I wasn't that crazy about and only used for a week as a rental. The main improvement with the Mamiya 7 was the rangefinder could be used to focus a longer lens.)
But I liked the way the Mamiya 6 could be collapsed; and I like the square format. Much faster to use than the Rollei, though you'd be surprised if all you're doing is using the Rollei you can get pretty adept with the thing and I always thought that looking down at a ground glass screen helped my composition. One other thing these cameras have in common as opposed to the Pentax 67 is quietness.
* * *
Went to the Gordon Parks exhibit at the Greenberg Gallery. There is obviously something wrong with me. Yes - the first shot when you walk in of the guy coming out of the sewer is amazing (however it was done). And the rest of the work is - well - it's great. It is. But it didn't leave me with any haunted feeling as the Saul Leiter exhibit did. Hard to fathom my reactions. The prints are well done.
As I say, there's something wrong with me because I noticed a small hair that was on the negative that hadn't been spotted out on one print. That seemed weird. But except for one or two prints - it didn't feel mysterious to me. Well - it's a documentary style.
Afterwards spent time in coffee shop with Matt and we were talking about medium format stuff and he offered to loan me a Pentax 67 and a couple of lenses. And yes - how amazingly cheap medium format has gotten. For fun I looked up a couple of Hass bodies on eBay... wow. What a market drop there. Those used to be the things no one could afford. I think I saw the 500 c/m kit in good condition for like $750. Back, lens, body and a couple of filters. Am I wrong or was that selling in the $25oo range last time I looked a few years back? And the Pentax 67 - what a plummet there. Damned sharp lenses. So digital has pretty much replaced MF at this point. Will they keep making film for these guys? I'm going to borrow the 67 from Matt since I'm feeling more like doing tripod stuff these days.
Anyway, I felt most comfortable with the Mamiya 6 (even more so than with the Mamiya 7 which I wasn't that crazy about and only used for a week as a rental. The main improvement with the Mamiya 7 was the rangefinder could be used to focus a longer lens.)
But I liked the way the Mamiya 6 could be collapsed; and I like the square format. Much faster to use than the Rollei, though you'd be surprised if all you're doing is using the Rollei you can get pretty adept with the thing and I always thought that looking down at a ground glass screen helped my composition. One other thing these cameras have in common as opposed to the Pentax 67 is quietness.
* * *
Went to the Gordon Parks exhibit at the Greenberg Gallery. There is obviously something wrong with me. Yes - the first shot when you walk in of the guy coming out of the sewer is amazing (however it was done). And the rest of the work is - well - it's great. It is. But it didn't leave me with any haunted feeling as the Saul Leiter exhibit did. Hard to fathom my reactions. The prints are well done.
As I say, there's something wrong with me because I noticed a small hair that was on the negative that hadn't been spotted out on one print. That seemed weird. But except for one or two prints - it didn't feel mysterious to me. Well - it's a documentary style.
Afterwards spent time in coffee shop with Matt and we were talking about medium format stuff and he offered to loan me a Pentax 67 and a couple of lenses. And yes - how amazingly cheap medium format has gotten. For fun I looked up a couple of Hass bodies on eBay... wow. What a market drop there. Those used to be the things no one could afford. I think I saw the 500 c/m kit in good condition for like $750. Back, lens, body and a couple of filters. Am I wrong or was that selling in the $25oo range last time I looked a few years back? And the Pentax 67 - what a plummet there. Damned sharp lenses. So digital has pretty much replaced MF at this point. Will they keep making film for these guys? I'm going to borrow the 67 from Matt since I'm feeling more like doing tripod stuff these days.
Pope, Central Park
Pope John Paul II crossing Central Park, 1995. Cardinal O'Connor in the backseat.
Night Storm
Hi Dave
Just a note to let you know the print arrived today! Thank you; its fantastic! ( Night Storm ). That's winter captured in single print; the crisp air, crunch of snow underfoot, the muffled and distant sound of traffic; great stuff!
It arrived in perfect condition too and its off to the framers this afternoon for a nice black wood frame!
Cheers and all the best,
Allan (Great Britain)
[Just a note: That was done on the Museo Silver Rag. I have been sending out one or two prints on that stock because I love it so much, but I only have enough left for about three large prints. Well, it will be available in three weeks. Since this is a 4 x 5 negative, it's also the result of a better scan with the 4990 and I'll give myself a pat on the back - more sophisticated PS skills.]
Just a note to let you know the print arrived today! Thank you; its fantastic! ( Night Storm ). That's winter captured in single print; the crisp air, crunch of snow underfoot, the muffled and distant sound of traffic; great stuff!
It arrived in perfect condition too and its off to the framers this afternoon for a nice black wood frame!
Cheers and all the best,
Allan (Great Britain)
[Just a note: That was done on the Museo Silver Rag. I have been sending out one or two prints on that stock because I love it so much, but I only have enough left for about three large prints. Well, it will be available in three weeks. Since this is a 4 x 5 negative, it's also the result of a better scan with the 4990 and I'll give myself a pat on the back - more sophisticated PS skills.]
2/06/2006
Rent Fast
My meanderings through old negatives left me here in Jersey City. But there was also a brief stay in Disneyland (FL) on a business trip and Washington D.C. Maybe this is my vacation - living through past trips.
2/05/2006
Am Pm
I've been spending a lot of time contemplating man's idiotic nature lately (cartoons have been the latest culprits). I hope that no one is offended that the chicken is holding an American flag or two. As is required now, I certify that there is no political or religious meaning behind the picture that I am consciously aware of.
If any can be found - it is unintentional. I sign this under the watchful eye of the state god on this day - blah blah blah...
Dreamland 101
I'm sitting in a large, tiered lecture hall at college. What college, I don't know. But I don't know anything that anyone in class is talking about. I know that I haven't read anything that's been assigned all year. If I'm called on, then I'm going to just have to say, sorry but I haven't read that.
But at the beginning of class the professor finds some notice on his desk. He can't make heads or tails of it and begins trying to analyze the meaning of the notice.
Good, I think. Take the whole damned class trying to figure it out. Maybe I'll get by. It has something to do with shopping carts not being allowed in the hallways but only on Sundays. Something like that.
The students are all into trying to prove how smart they are by telling him what the paper might mean. Maybe this is a a law class? Philosophy? I'm not even sure what class it is, that's how lost I am. But I realize that I need to complete it to get my degree.
Well, finally they get on with the lesson and I still don't have a clue. But about halfway through a wind blows through the classroom and the paper they had been discussing at the beginning about shopping carts blows out the window. The professor asks for volunteers to go outside and retreive it, and my hand is up first.
So out the window I go. And straight into a lake. The paper is floating around, but I fugre I'll just take as much time as I can before getting it so that the class will be over. And sure enough when I return the class is over and two men are standing there in the classroom with duck hunting outfits on and cracked shotguns.
After introductions they inform me that they are going to teach the next class on duck hunting and I hand them the paper which they explain is not about shopping carts but about how many ducks each hunter is allowed to bag.
Whatever. I walk into the hallway, and realize that I've just graduated because of this nonsense. But no sooner has this thought hit me, then I find myself with the professor at a party on the lake, or more properly on a series of rafts on the lake - and the professor looks like James Coburn and he's reading from the same book as in the classroom and I still don't have any idea what he's saying. We get to talking and he remembers me as one of his students and tells how he left teaching and went into writing for Hollywood which is where he's been for the last ten years.
I tell him I too wrote screenplays for a while. Ah yes, he says. He thought he recognized my name. He's smoking cigarettes - one after another and now he's out. For some reason, I'm just as eager to get away from him now - because he's mentioning these writers as if I'm supposed to know them - but I've not heard of a single one. So I'm just nodding that so-and-so was good and getting deeper and deeper into lies. So when he mentions that he's out of cigarettes I volunteer to go off and get some for him. He tells me that they're called Woosherfields. Something like that. British I think.
Which I do.
When I return his wife is handing him a tape. It has a soundtrack for a movie they're working on. She tells me that this is a new rap version of RESPECT. Ugh, I tell her. That's a bad idea.
No, she assures me. Good idea.
I hand the package of cigarettes to the James Coburn Professor of something and he takes one out and smokes it. Offers me one while he continues name dropping names I should have heard of. I take one cigarette. Light it. But I don't get any draw. I'm sucking on the thing - but no smoke or air or anything is coming out.
He's going on debonairly about more things I never heard of - and I taste this funny plastic tip that is stuck in the cigarette. Ah - so that's what the problem is. I pull the white plastic tip out. Coburn explains that this is how they keep each cigarette fresh. I toss the tip into the lake and watch is float off. And then as I'm about to take a drag - I wake up. No smokes for me. Not even in dreamland.
But at the beginning of class the professor finds some notice on his desk. He can't make heads or tails of it and begins trying to analyze the meaning of the notice.
Good, I think. Take the whole damned class trying to figure it out. Maybe I'll get by. It has something to do with shopping carts not being allowed in the hallways but only on Sundays. Something like that.
The students are all into trying to prove how smart they are by telling him what the paper might mean. Maybe this is a a law class? Philosophy? I'm not even sure what class it is, that's how lost I am. But I realize that I need to complete it to get my degree.
Well, finally they get on with the lesson and I still don't have a clue. But about halfway through a wind blows through the classroom and the paper they had been discussing at the beginning about shopping carts blows out the window. The professor asks for volunteers to go outside and retreive it, and my hand is up first.
So out the window I go. And straight into a lake. The paper is floating around, but I fugre I'll just take as much time as I can before getting it so that the class will be over. And sure enough when I return the class is over and two men are standing there in the classroom with duck hunting outfits on and cracked shotguns.
After introductions they inform me that they are going to teach the next class on duck hunting and I hand them the paper which they explain is not about shopping carts but about how many ducks each hunter is allowed to bag.
Whatever. I walk into the hallway, and realize that I've just graduated because of this nonsense. But no sooner has this thought hit me, then I find myself with the professor at a party on the lake, or more properly on a series of rafts on the lake - and the professor looks like James Coburn and he's reading from the same book as in the classroom and I still don't have any idea what he's saying. We get to talking and he remembers me as one of his students and tells how he left teaching and went into writing for Hollywood which is where he's been for the last ten years.
I tell him I too wrote screenplays for a while. Ah yes, he says. He thought he recognized my name. He's smoking cigarettes - one after another and now he's out. For some reason, I'm just as eager to get away from him now - because he's mentioning these writers as if I'm supposed to know them - but I've not heard of a single one. So I'm just nodding that so-and-so was good and getting deeper and deeper into lies. So when he mentions that he's out of cigarettes I volunteer to go off and get some for him. He tells me that they're called Woosherfields. Something like that. British I think.
Which I do.
When I return his wife is handing him a tape. It has a soundtrack for a movie they're working on. She tells me that this is a new rap version of RESPECT. Ugh, I tell her. That's a bad idea.
No, she assures me. Good idea.
I hand the package of cigarettes to the James Coburn Professor of something and he takes one out and smokes it. Offers me one while he continues name dropping names I should have heard of. I take one cigarette. Light it. But I don't get any draw. I'm sucking on the thing - but no smoke or air or anything is coming out.
He's going on debonairly about more things I never heard of - and I taste this funny plastic tip that is stuck in the cigarette. Ah - so that's what the problem is. I pull the white plastic tip out. Coburn explains that this is how they keep each cigarette fresh. I toss the tip into the lake and watch is float off. And then as I'm about to take a drag - I wake up. No smokes for me. Not even in dreamland.
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