Even in the age of the CCD, there’s a tender place in my heart for film

From a nice hostel in Galway, let me write for a moment about film before I head off to find some dinner. People in Canadian cities that include a Lens & Shutter location (just Vancouver and Victoria, I think) should feel rather lucky, as they stock my two favourite films at excellent prices. While Kodak High Definition 400 is simply unavailable in the British Isles, their black and white T-Max 100 and 400 films are only available here for about ten Euros a roll, plus the unusually high cost of processing an ‘unusual’ emulsion.

If you’ve never given much thought to the kind of film you use or where you get it processed, you might find it worthwhile to spend less than $10 on a roll of one of the films mentioned above. For that price, at Lens & Shutter, you also get processing and either a CD of scanned images or a set of 4×6″ prints. All my photos from Europe in 2004 were shot on one or the other kind of film, and I am clearly fond enough of them that I have been hunting for somewhere that stocks them since I arrived here. I had my mother bring a batch of each for the Malta trip (though many of those photos were taken on my point and shoot digital camera).

Perhaps next year I should join some kind of photo club in Oxford and start doing my own developing and printing. The danger, of course, is darkroom hypnosis; once, when I was in tenth grade, I found myself leaving the Handsworth darkroom after 2:00am, not realizing at all how much time had passed since I wandered in after a quick dinner of Coke and Gobstoppers.

I suspect I will do better than that in Galway tonight.

Manuscripts, horses, and Evensong

Jim Kilroy and his horse, Howth

Another great day has passed, in and around Dublin. After Brunch at Gruel (see the earlier entry where I describe it), I went to Dublin Castle and the Chester Beatty Library. You rarely see such an excellent free museum: packed with venerable and beautiful manuscripts, and boasting an attractive roof garden. It provided welcome solace from the driving rain.

The weather was so bad when I finally left that I decided to scrap my plan to go to Howth. Instead, I went into the nearby Christ Church Cathedral for an Evensong ceremony. This, I will admit, was quite uncharacteristic of me. Aside from one wedding and one first communion, this was the only time I ever attended a church during a religious function. Even though the hymns were entirely unfamiliar to me, it was a worthwhile and rather beautiful experience. Knowing how Claire is now part of an Oxford choir, I thought of her during much of it. Despite the size of the cathedral, the number of people in attendance was less than the number of people in the choir. Perhaps that related to how most of the church was closed for a television taping.

As I left the Cathedral, there were rays of sunshine hitting Dublin pavements. Despite it being after 6:00, I decided to take the half-hour train to Howth. It would prove a very wise move. The ride itself, in the evening light, offered an attractive transition from urban centre to countryside. Once I arrived, I walked a photogenic arc out one of the stone and concrete arms enclosing the harbour, pausing beside a small lighthouse to watch the birds floating like kites as they pushed against the incoming wind.

The hills overlooking the town seemed a good place to visit, to I took to trekking up road by road as far as I could make it. A man who I asked for directions when I reached the top of one such proved much more helpful than could possibly have been expected. Named Jim Kilroy, he is a retired architect, and he owns some of the land in the area I was exploring. He told me a bit about the history of the place, showed me his three beautiful horses, and directed me to a cliffside trail that follows the circumference of Howth (which is a kind of bulb-shaped peninsula). Further evidence of how open and friendly the people of Ireland are.

By the time I reached the much larger lighthouse a few kilometres around winding cliffs, it had become full dark. Another stranger who I asked for directions proved exceptionally helpful. She said that she was heading in the direction of the train station that was eluding me and offered me a lift. I am glad I accepted, because it was a much longer and more complex journey than my crude understanding of the layout of the place suggested. She is a veterinarian, specializing in horses, and apparently knows Mr. Kilroy. I expect that’s normal, in such a small community.

Now back in Dublin, I am to meet Mark Cummins from the Walking Club at some later point. I should be mindful, of course, of the early morning bus ride tomorrow and the low probability of a good night’s sleep tonight. That said, three hours on the bus will offer a bit of time for recovery.

I think I can say with confidence that Ireland is the friendliest place I have ever been. While it isn’t fair to compare with places where I don’t speak the language, the sheer number of strangers who have engaged with me and treated me with kindness here is staggering. Nowhere in North American or English-speaking Europe has been comparable. I even got into a conversation with a young woman from Dublin who happened to sit beside me on the train back from Howth. This is a country that I need to visit again and, next time I meet an Irish person somewhere else in the world, I will do my best to help them however I can.

Scotland Velvia photos

I got the Velvia that I shot in Scotland back today. Velvia is a kind of slide film much praised by photographers for its ability to reproduce colour vividly. Above all, the shots I got back demonstrate how challenging it can be to use film with such a narrow exposure lattitude effectively. Even photos with overcast skies tend to include broad sheets of pure white pixels – though that seems to be much worse on the scans I had done than on the slides themselves. Also, the textures of rock and grass look like screen rips from the original Doom: even when the files are viewed at the original scan resolution. I suspect that something went wrong in the scanning process. If someone (Tristan?) cares to confirm my diagnosis, I will happily send a 30MB archive of all the original files.

The three photos that it seemed worthwhile to put on Photo.net are here, here, and here. Despite the lacklustre results, I remain thankful to Tristan for sending me the film in the first instance.


  • Does anybody know of somewhere in Oxford where I could gain access to a slide projector? Looking at the slides on top of a piece of white paper up against the MCR window is clearly not ideal and, as I said before, it looks as though the slides themselves came out rather better than the scans.
  • Due to a mistake on my part, the first roll of Velvia I shot was a comprehensive failure. That was a particular shame, since they were taken of some of the most photogenic things I know: the campus of UBC and Meghan Mathieson. For a better photo of each, see this and this.
  • People considering using DLab7.com for photo processing might appreciate knowing that their ‘8MB’ scans are actually only 700k or so. The jpg files are 2072×1390. Though the files are of comparable size and resolution to those produced by my A510, they are dramatically less sharp.

Scotland 2006 photos: third batch

Taken over the course of all three days of hiking, these photos show a few more aspects of Scotland.

Scottish peak in cloud

Weather in Scotland changes rapidly and dramatically, especially at altitude. I was literally holding on to my hat on a lot of these peaks and ridgelines.

Castle by the Loch

There was a wedding happening in this castle which several members of the group were able to briefly crash before being escorted out by men in kilts.

Bruno and the slope

You get a better sense of the scales involve when there are people in the photos.

Ridgeline with blue sky

Brief periods of proper blue sky were much appreciated. Along this ridge, I shot a good portion of my roll of Velvia.

Group photo

Not a Monroe, this was the last peak we climbed before going home. By this point, my legs were so sore they became difficult to move if I stopped for more than five seconds.

Scotland 2006 photos: second batch

All taken during our first big hike on Friday, this series of photos shows a bit of the majesty of the Scottish highlands.

Scottish peak

There is really no mistaking the glacial origins of these mountains, though the erosion patterns of the rocks look quite unusual to someone used to mountains in British Columbia.

Three peaks we climbed

These are three of the five peaks we climbed on Friday, including at least one of the three Munros.

Descending path

While requiring less exertion, descents were often rather more daunting than ascents.

Study in lichen

Continuity of hats is an important element of hiking trips.

Group photo

From left to right: Milan, Mark, Helen, Kathleen, Dengli, Chris, and Bruno. Photo taken by Andrew or Roman.

With tutorials tomorrow, I need to get some sleep. More photos and descriptions of the trip should come online tomorrow.

Scotland 2006 photos: first batch

Before putting anything on Photo.net, I will put a few of my better photos up here. I used my film camera for the shots I hoped would turn out more artistically. These digital shots are meant more as a documentation of the excursion. These are all from the ‘Five Sisters of Kintail’ hike that we did on Friday.

First Scotland ascent

When we first got out of the minibus on Friday morning, I joked that we were about to climb the steep rise in front of us. We then went on to do exactly that: through the fog, with one backpack dropped and recovered from at least 100m below before we reached the first ridge.

Scotland ridge

Here we are atop that ridge. On account of the fog, we didn’t get much of a view for quite a while.

Bruno leading on the ridge

Bruno and Andrew leading along the ridge.

Study in lichen

Ecology on Scottish mountain tops is a study in grasses, lichen, and perhaps sheep.

Bruno near a rockslide

When the fog did clear a bit, we got a close up view of the legacy of glaciers upon the Scottish Highlands.

Dust to dust

Back on the 6th of February, I first noted the presence of some kind of opaque foreign matter on the sensor of my Canon Powershot A510 digital camera. Today, I examined what has taken place since.

The state of the sensor:

Note: the colour cast on the original is just because I shot it using auto white balance and tungsten illumination. The second was taken using sunlight. The general speckle pattern all over it is from the wall, not the sensor.

Both shots were taken at the smallest aperture allowed by the A510 at the shortest focal length (f/8). To me, the comparison indicates a worsening situation. There has been speculation that the foreign substance is not dust, but mold. That would be consistent with the fact that it seems to be worsening, as well as to how the problem first emerged after a period of particularly dismal and rainy weather.

Why it matters, and what to do

Shots that involve areas of solid colour as well as small apertures frequently require touching up in Photoshop to remove the blotches. Sometimes, that isn’t even possible for me. (Look near the ground, to the left of the chapel.) Cleaning the sensor would require paying a technician rather more than the value of the camera. I bought it in North Vancouver for C$273.55 (£132), which included a 512 meg SD card that can be used with a new camera. Replacing it with a comparable camera would cost less (because this model has been replaced by newer ones) and more (because everything costs more in England). The big choice is whether to replace the thing, or start putting money into a digital SLR fund.

Having a camera small enough that I literally carry it everywhere has quite a bit of value to it. Having a DSLR would probably improve the quality of photos that I put on here, but it would definitely be more of a conspicuous item to carry and use. It would also further stress iPhoto, with larger image files…

…wanders back to his reading, pondering…

On self-representation

Milan in the mirror

Every photographer understands the impetus behind the self-portrait: not some formal tripod and time-delay creation, but the quasi-accidental inclusion of oneself in a composition, in the form of a shadow, perhaps, or a reflection.

Photography is a curious art-form, for many reasons. Unlike most forms of artistic representation, it requires relatively little ability to translate sight into the moment of a hand. Instead, it required just one firm touch upon a button, under conditions that are recognized as being correct. The difficulty of affirming the originality of that act may partially explain the motivation behind the photographer’s self-portrait.

Mostly, however, I think of it as a playful interchange between photographer and observer. Whereas the two are normally in a conspiracy with regards to the subject (at the same time as the photographer and the subject are in conspiracy against the observer), in this case, there is a kind of simultaneous mutual revealing, which is very artistically and emotively interesting.

Reading, writing, walking

Antonia on a bridge beside the Isis

With all that is ongoing, it has been a busy day. That said, things now seem to be on track for tomorrow’s lecture. Monday, I will be teaching another seminar and meeting with Dr. Hurrell to discuss the lacklustre result of the research design essay. Tuesday, I am going to London to see the Kandinsky exhibition with Sarah Webster. This is especially welcome, as it will be the first time I’ve seen her since her wedding, back in March.

A postcard from Kelly arrived today. She will be returning from Scotland sometime in the next week, though things are uncertain given all the vagaries that attach themselves to what is simultaneously a research trip and a family holiday. Her safe return is much anticipated.

While retracing a portion of the bike ride I described here a few days ago on foot with Antonia this afternoon, I managed to take some photographs with which I am reasonably pleased . Once you have more than 4000 from a place as small as Oxford, it becomes hard to come up with something good every day. As such, I’ve used a few of them to adorn photos from past days that were lacking images. The general idea is that posts without specific topics (ie. this one) should include photographs at the rate of about one per day. This is to compensate for the fact that I am just summarizing things at you.