Last time I talked about the importance of making the shot, and before that discussed my new “keep-in-the-car” camera. Okay, last Monday I was driving through a part of Philly I had never been to before care of my GPS, and all of a sudden I saw this fascinating mural on the side of a small commercial building. But for all my talk I forgot to put my camera back in the car after I got it back from the shop.

$#$%^&*()!!@@

Frustrated, I continued on my way, but the image of that mural stuck in my mind and bothered me all week. I wasn’t sure I remembered its location or what the names of crossing streets nearby were. But after about 30 minutes searching the net and Google Maps I actually found a picture of the building and its address!! So on Friday I went back!

That’s right baby. I loaded a roll of Tri-X into my Plaubel Makina , put it into the car and drove back!  Even got a great parking space not far away from the location! Why? Because the picture was important to me. Yes, it was almost an hour’s drive each way, but who cares if it really matters!! As it turns out I got a little lucky as there was only one car parked in front, at the edge of the scene.

Not giving up always pays off, even if the picture doesn’t turn out to be all you hoped it would be. At a minimum you always learn something, which in itself can be incredibly important!

What if I didn’t go back. Maybe I would have decided to do it next month, or next year, or some other time and the damn thing has been painted over, or the building got torn down? I remember a story Fred Picker told in a newsletter about driving by an incredible barn. He either didn’t have his camera or for some other reason didn’t make a picture. So he came back a day or two later and it had blown down or something by a storm.

Moral of the story … if the picture is important to you go back as soon as you can and get it! I’m glad I did. Even if it turns out not to be a keeper I know I gave myself a chance and I feel a lot better for it!

Stay well,

Michael

Turns out I had to skip photographing two happenings I really wanted to go to, and as often the case it got me thinking.  Why and how do I decide I’m interested in photographing certain types of subject matter or go to certain types of places/events to photograph?  I know I’ve mentioned the importance of the “journey” a number of times here. Ok, I know … enough already. But for me it’s true … there is so much more for me than just going out and making the photograph. It’s the entire experience … the journey itself.  Even if I don’t get any keepers when I’m out there, or don’t even make a single exposure. I really love that whole experience.

So I felt bad about missing these two annual events.  It bothered me, because I’ve had success at both, coming home with some wonderful photographs. But as you can guess, there’s more to it than that. I really enjoyed hanging out at these places, talking to the people and having fun just being there, even though some I met are as different from me than anything I can think of. And that’s what’s so great!

In many ways that’s what drives me to make pictures and often steers me where to go. Usually I have no idea what the outcome will be other than the fun I’ll have, and the things I’ll learn. Then there are the times where there is someplace I want to go based on something I heard, research I’ve done, or because it makes sense as part of a project. Here’s an example … I read about this weird cemetery in the middle of the woods somewhere in Jersey. I love photographing in cemeteries, and just walking around in them.  I’m sorry if you find this a little creepy, but I find it peaceful and meditative. In any case, it will be a good adventure for me whatever the photographic outcome!

Then there are the projects. They all have specific parameters I’ve established, places I need to go and times of the year I need to be there. Some of these projects are short term, but many have lasted years and are still going on!

Thinking about this made me realize that there’s a bunch of reasons why I photograph, often with the photographic outcome being the least important one of all.

Alright, so I missed these two opportunities. They’ll be back again. That’s what my wife told me. And you know what? She’s right. Yah, maybe not be the exact same experiences and outcomes, but experiences and outcomes no matter what.

So while I feel bad when I can’t do something I wanted to do, I don’t stress about it. I know there will be plenty more opportunities. Why? Because I know why I want to photograph, when I want to do it, and where I want to go to get it done. That works for me.

How about you? Why do you photograph? Think about it. You might just get a whole new creative outlook on things!

Stay well,

Michael

This past week the New York Times had a terrific essay written by Anika Burgess entitled The Analog Allure of Photographers’ Contact Sheets. Not only was it a good read, but it was accompanied by reproductions of some wonderful proof sheets pulled from the newspaper’s archives. Sorry, that’s what I’ve always called them and the terms are interchangeable!

You can find it here: https://www.nytimes.com/2025/08/18/arts/photos-contact-sheets-jfk.html

After reading it, I got to thinking about what we can learn from studying our own proof sheets. We all make proof sheets of our work. OK, I hope we all do! If you don’t you need to!! I’ve written about them before, but for the uninitiated, a proof sheet is simply a print that displays all the images from a roll of film. When we look at it we can see what pictures are worth printing, whether they need to be cropped at all, and whether they were properly exposed.

We study them with our magnifier loupes and then mark the frames that look promising. In my case I also use two small L shaped pieces of a scrap mat board I can adjust to determine whether a picture needs to be cropped at all. Then I mark the frame accordingly.

But is there more we can learn from our proof sheets? I think so and agree with several of the points made in the Times essay. “With a single contact sheet, a photographer could assess all the decisions and hesitations, steps and missteps that went into taking the photo.” The photographer can also go back and study “What you were doing, what your story was, what you were trying to say, were you successful, what could you have done differently?” This was referring to work done by newspaper photographers, but it really applies to all of us, whatever type of pictures we make.

We don’t always get around to printing our pictures as quickly as we’d like to. Or sometimes we wait for a certain time of the year. I’m pretty selective. I don’t make lots of prints during the course of the year, and sometimes I just wait until the last couple of weeks to print the ones I want. Having stepped back for a while, the edited proof sheets enables me to take a more objective and studied approach to looking at the frames previously selected. Now I can see if I still feel as good about them as I did before.  I might even notice something that didn’t strike me during the first go around, but now looks better!

The proof sheet also serves as a visual diary … at least for me. It helps me to recall the events that transpired when I made my pictures and brings back fond memories that go beyond the making of the picture itself.  Also, having this “record” is particularly useful as I go back and look at older proof sheets for possibilities previously not considered.  In fact, I’ve been putting together a list of newly seen possibilities … some of the pictures having been made over fifty years ago.

Finally, I love being able to hold my proof sheet in my hand and physically look at it … slowly … and this may be the most important thing. Digital capture doesn’t enable this, although I suppose a physical document could be made. I’ll bet this never happens though.  I don’t want to see my possibilities on a computer screen. Like the Times piece said “… a contact sheet is everything a digital photograph isn’t: immutable, physical, finite”.

In the end though, for all its usefulness, and for all it enables, the proof sheet says a lot about you … as a photographer … and a person.

Stay well,

Michael

I was given an inexpensive but good camera by my next door neighbor who’s moving and cleaning out stuff.  An Olympus Stylus Zoom 140! It was sitting in a drawer unused for years. Solid build with a good quality lens. So I got a new battery for it and found the instruction manual online.  Great … only 73 pages long! Once I figured out how to turn it on it seemed to work. Seemed, to because it’s a lot more electronica than I’ve ever held in one hand before … and it’s probably fifteen years old or more!

I’ve talked about always having a camera with you when you’re going places, but to be honest I’ve always felt a little nervous about keeping an almost three thousand dollar camera and lens combo in my glove compartment all the time.

Now I have nice camera I won’t have to worry about if something happens to it. And here’s the thing … while this baby has much more built-in firepower than I would ever need or want, it was in mint condition and free! Now if I’m driving to who knows where at any time of the day I’ll be covered for almost any contingency. No excuse not to make the photograph!  I mean come-on, this thing has auto focus, a 38-140mm zoom, built in flash, automatic meeting, auto film advance and rewind, plus who knows what more!  And thankfully, it’s not too over the top like today’s silly contraptions that are computers that happen to make pictures. I think the new ones will even cook your meals and assist you with critical lifestyle decisions.

It may be the perfect no excuses camera!  Yup. So I finally read the manual, then loaded it with film with the recommended speed of 400 ASA. That’s right … Tri-X, baby!  And now I ‘ve already made ten exposures I never would have were it not for my new friend being with me!!

Look, you can pick up one of these beauties dirt cheap. Get one and you might even think it’s so cool that you make more pictures! Put it in glove compartment of your car … loaded with film of course … and be prepared for all the lucky opportunities that will present themselves!

Stay well,

Michael

Perhaps my head has been in the sand, or that there are a number of great black and white analog photographers I just don’t know about. This past week I learned about the passing of the Italian photojournalist and street photographer Gianni Berengo Gardin. How? By catching up with a mostly music and stereo blog I follow! After looking around the Internet to find out more about Gardin, I quickly realized he was a true master!!!  His work is nothing short of amazing and prolific, with a million and a half negatives and by some accounts over 250 books as a sole or major contributor to his credit.  His work is also included in the holdings of major museums such as Museum of Modern Art.

I’m upset that I’ve just discovered him, and only because he passed away and was mentioned on the Italian website I frequent. Sad. The man was a genius and now I know it too. I have a new homework assignment … to research his many books and get one or more of them … and soon!

So what does this mean for me and maybe you? Yes, there most certainly must be many, many great black and white (and color too) photographers out there we’ll never know about. Like Gianni Berengo Gardin.  But there are many others that have been/are out there publishing and exhibiting, not to mention all those that were/are great but do the work solely for themselves. Or those that simply don’t have the desire, or lack the horsepower to play the game. Think Vivian Maier.  All we can do is try to find them, discover their wonderful work, learn from it and enjoy it.

I can’t really say any more about Gardin now, because there’s so much more I need to learn. But what I can say is it’s something I must do. And then I need to discover and learn what I can about the many others I need to know about.

So much to learn, so little time.  #$$%^&*!

If you’re not familiar with Gianni Berengo Gardin, please do yourself a big favor and check out his wonderful and inspiring work. Better late than never … a true great!

Stay well,

Michael

In the end I decided not to go. That’s right. After a lot of thinking about it, I finally decided not to go to New York and see the giant Diane Arbus show Diane Arbus: Constellation at the Park Avenue Amory.

It turns out the 450 plus print retrospective of well-known and previously unpublished images has become a polarizing event to some, mainly due to manner in which the many prints are displayed.  Here’s a link from the Park Avenue Army that discusses the show and includes a short video

https://www.armoryonpark.org/programs_events/detail/constellation?gad_source=1&gad_campaignid=22593218138&gbraid=0AAAAAo1ABwXj-e4C9ZtAHxSS3I-CFB4p0&gclid=CjwKCAjw7rbEBhB5EiwA1V49nQ_vkk5W4VMzYLCVOWWIadlgQKfhnWCvMP7KXW10e_iqPKtj1WQhKxoCyTkQAvD_BwE

Just in case you can no longer access the link, here’s a quote:

“These dynamic pictures are given an evocative new life at the Armory in an immersive installation that brings together all of the photographs (some still unpublished) from the set of more than 450 prints by Neil Selkirk, a photographer and student of hers and the only person authorized to make prints from her negatives. This unconventional constellation of images allows viewers to find their own path to discover what lies between the pictures, what connects them to each other, and the imperceptible architecture underlying all creations: chance, chaos, and exploration. Marking the largest and most complete showing of her works in New York to date, this unprecedented collection of Arbus’s works provides a diverse and singularly compelling portrait of humanity.”

It’s the part about the  “unconventional constellation of images [that] allows viewers to find their own path to discover what lies between the pictures, what connects them to each other, and the imperceptible architecture underlying all creations” that turned me off. For me it came down to how I want to view photographs. Several years ago I went to New York to see a beautiful and tastefully hung retrospective of Arbus’ work at the David Zwirner Gallery. I wrote an entry about the show entitled Cataclysm – The 1972 Diane Arbus Retrospective Revisited.

In the case of the current show it looked like I was going to have to bend down near to the floor in order to study some of the photographs mounted on the black lattice displays while navigating my vision in order to focus on other photographs at various heights, all the while trying not to get distracted by yet other photographs entering my field of view.

While it appeared from various reviews and videos I found on the web, that some of the pictures are mounted on walls, the vast majority of the pictures seem to be affixed to those lattices.

Strange. At least to me.

So, here we have an exhibit that appears to be as much about the presentation as it is about the work itself.  And I think the work most likely suffers as a result. I’ll take a pass.

On the other hand you might like it. In that case, the show runs through August 17^th.

Stay well,

Michael