Crab boats

The docks are in disrepair, but the crab men still fuel up here before going out to pick up their pots.

©2014 Bryan Rierson

Lake Mattamuskeet Sunset

After a mostly overcast day the Sun finally made an appearance, then shortly dipped below the horizon and began to dance underneath the dispersing clouds. Mother Nature's lightshow.

©2014 Bryan Rierson

Lake Mattamuskeet Rorschach

The last rays of sunlight set alight the trees in Lake Mattamuskeet and the clouds are as blue as mountains of ice in the distance. The still water reflects both the icy clouds and the warm trees, yet ripples ever so slightly and gives away the illusion. What do you see?

A Kind Of Magic...

Lately I've been shooting film again. I said lately, but I never really stopped- it was just a rare occurrence. Digital capture took over my photography- at least the work that I get paid to do. Still, every now and then I'd grab the Leica and some black & white film and go on a trip or just for a walkabout. There's just something about it that's... therapeutic?

Film is enjoying a resurgence in popularity, especially among the young folks who were raised on digital cameras. Let's face it- film is cool! In the past few years I've had lots of aspiring photographers in their 20's asking me questions about vintage cameras and black & white film processing, and their excitement for the medium inspired me to get some of the old cameras out and shoot with them again. You see, I'm a bit of an equipment junkie... I got out the 4x5 camera and a friend hooked me up with some rare Polaroid Type55 film. I shot the Hasselblad on a pro-bono shoot for a local cat shelter. The old trusty Nikon F3 has gone on a few walks with me, and of course the Leica is still my go-to walkabout camera. A good friend gave me a screw-mount Canon IVsb, and out of pure nostalgia I bought a Pentax K1000. My wife got herself a Rolleiflex and we started going on "photo safaris" together. Why would I choose these old, sometimes clunky tools to go out and make images? It's the experience, the craft, and the magic.

Hasselblad 500C, 80mm f2.8 Planar

Vintage film cameras each have their own quirks, their own little idiosyncracies in their operation. While digital cameras all seem like computers these days, jam packed with features accessed through huge complicated menus, vintage film cameras are like fine mechanical watches. The controls are simple- shutter speeds, aperture, and film speed. Some have meters and some don't, and we used to know how to expose our film without a fancy meter. Even the sounds are different. The click-chunk-wind of the Hasselblad is quite satisfying, as is the clack-clack of the F3. The barely audible click of the Leica is legendary, and makes me want to find another picture right away- just so I can hear it again.

Pentax K1000, SMC Pentax 50mm f1.7

Film shooters are more keenly aware of the importance of each frame, after all- there's a limit! Perhaps 12, 24, or 36 exposures and then you have to spend a couple of minutes reloading- back turned to the sun to avoid the film fog. Every click costs money, with film and processing costs rising every day. The extreme is shooting the 4x5 camera. Usually I take 8 film holders, which each hold 2 sheets of film. 16 exposures is all I get before I have to go back to the darkroom and reload. I've been calling the 4x5 my anti-digital. It forces me to be extremely careful while shooting. My work must become slow and methodical, even purposeful. It's hard- which makes it all the more satisfying.

Canon IVsb, Canon 28mm f3.5

But I think the greatest attraction to film photography is the magic... Everything comes together, you click the shutter, and a moment in time is captured on that thin piece of film. Now it's locked away in total darkness, and we can't see it yet. Did you get that once-in-a-lifetime shot? To find out we have to get it into the darkroom, where the alchemy begins. Once again in complete darkness we apply various chemicals to the film to unlock the latent image that's captured in silver-halide crystals. Once the fix and wash is done we hang our film to dry, and can't help but start looking at the negative images to try to determine if that great shot is there. Then we start the process of turning the negative into a positive image, either by scanning the film into the modern age, or traditional printing where the alchemical process begins again. Film photography just feels like more of a craft than digital photography does.

Hasselblad 500C, 80mm f2.8 Planar

I hope more people discover (or re-discover) the magic of film. In the past few years we have been losing some of the great emulsions, as companies succumb to the demands of economics and reduce the variety of film stocks they produce. Kodachrome is gone, and there's a limited supply of PlusX left. E-6 slide film and processing is hard to find, and Polaroid went away years ago. Still, there are lots of emulsions still out there. Ilford film is alive and well, Kodak still makes a small variety of color & black & white negative film, and Fuji makes B&W and color negative as well as their E-6 slide films. Impossible Project, New55, and Fuji pack film are keeping the Polaroid dream alive. Still, there's a good chance that one day it will all go away. We are fortunate to be working in a time where we can choose between so many tools and so many processes in order to make our images. So by all means, keep shooting digital and exploring that medium, but do yourself a favor and go out and shoot some film from time to time. While you still can...

Never thought I'd get to shoot Type 55 again...

Earlier this year a very good friend mentioned that he had a few boxes of Polaroid Type 55 stashed away, and he offered them to me.  For those who don't know, Type 55 was a very special kind of Polaroid.  It produced a nice black and white 4"x5" print and a gorgeous 4x5 negative at the same time.  They discontinued it around 2007, and my last box had long since dried up.  I used to love shooting it, and still have my 545 holder and my Calumet tank for "clearing" the negatives in sodium sulfite.  I figured I'd never shoot it again, now I have a small amount of the rare film and I'm saving it for special shoots.

The Triangle Tweed Ride is held every year in City Market, and this year I was asked once again to set up a "photo booth." The tweed ride attracts folks who want to ride bikes, dress up, and party like it's 1899.  What better subject for this special extinct photographic process? Here are some of the results.

I'me very happy with how they turned out.  The borders are the classic Type 55. In most shots, I achieved a solarization effect, most dramatic in the 3rd one from the top here.  The prints do not have this effect. My theory is that the chemistry in the Polaroid "goo pod" has lost it's potency over the years, and the shorter my processing time was the greater the solarization when I pulled the underprocessed negative out into the light.  I didn't exactly time each sheet, some of them sat and processed while I photographed other folks with the digital camera. I'll keep that in mind for the next shoot.

If you'd like to see the whole shoot, including the digital, check out my Triangle Tweed Ride 2014 album on Flickr.

I'm actively seeking interesting subjects to photograph on my remaining stash of Type 55. I don't know how much longer the chemicals will last before they dry up completely. If you would like to be photographed please get in touch. I'm looking for interesting faces, interesting costumes, interesting couples, etc. You can always contact me through my website.

Goodbye Pippin

Thank you for your unconditional love. We were lucky to be your humans.

I remember when we first picked you up from Kyle & Lauren... you were so tiny, barely big enough to be weaned from your mama. It was amazing how loud such a little kitty could purr! You would play and play, then all worn out you'd just fall asleep right where you sat. Sometimes you had so much energy you just wouldn't stop. That's when we discovered that the Classical music station calmed you down and put you to sleep.

When we were trying to come up with a name it was you who picked it. I wanted to name you Kodak but you didn't respond to that and Mommy didn't like it. While we were going through Lord of the Rings names you perked up and came to us when we said "Pippin." From that moment on you always knew your name.

You were fearless. Even as a tiny little kitten when your big sister Annie tried to intimidate you you stood your ground and she had to back down. You stood your ground in the epic battles with that orange kitten reflection in the door as well! Your other sister Sammie was another story. For some reason she decided she wasn't going to have another cat bullying her in this house, and you wisely gave her a wide berth. You idolized your big sister Annie, following her around and trying to do everything she did. Even after she jumped up on my white sweep during a product shoot and got her picture taken you had to jump up next and one-up her!

You were always underfoot, not following us around but running ahead, then stopping unexpectedly so we'd nearly trip over you. That earned you the nickname "Tripster." You also blended perfectly with the color of the kitchen floor, making it even harder to navigate when we didn't know you were there.

You always kept a lookout for danger out the back door, and no matter how fearsome the possum, raccoon, or other cat was you would poof up your tail and make the most God-awful howling noises and scare them away. You protected your girls. So much so that when we added another boy cat to our little family you were pissed. You never accepted Stinky, and that's ok. He's a sweet kitty, but he's too much of a pussycat to replace you as Defender of the House.

When you got sick we tried to do everything to make you better. I'm so sorry that we couldn't. We understood that the heart disease meant that you might not have much time left, and that we would have to struggle with you twice a day to take your medicine. We were just happy that we got to spend more time with you. When it struck again so soon, back in the hospital only 2 weeks after the first episode we feared the worst. Now they told us your kidneys were also failing, and there was no hope. Your Mommy and I were faced with an awful decision and we cried and cried.

On Friday the emergency vet was able to make you comfortable and send you home. With slightly modified medication they said you might get another week. We had an appointment set for Saturday morning to help you end your suffering, but I was selfish. I still had a glimmer of hope in my heart- maybe the vet was wrong... maybe you would show them all and make an astounding recovery! I called the vet and cancelled your deadly appointment. But I now understand how selfish that was. I wanted more time with you, but I wanted it for me. I couldn't face the finality of taking you to that last vet visit. I spent the weekend taking pictures and videos of you, such a handsome kitty! I recorded the sound of your purrs, still as loud as ever, even through these awful illnesses.

But the kidney failure was taking its toll. You weren't eating, and you were just wasting away. I could see you getting weaker and weaker, and I feared you would soon be going through an agonizing, painful, and slow death. So your Mommy and I made another vet appointment. All through the day on Tuesday I just tried to spoil you as much as possible. We listened to Classical music, lounged on your favorite Afghan that Mommy made, and looked out the window at the birds and squirrels. We played with a milk topper, went on a basket ride through the house and looked out the back door. I hope you had a great day.

Thank you for these last few days, and enduring your illnesses long enough for us to say goodbye. Please forgive me my selfishness in keeping you around perhaps a bit too long. It's because I love you so much. It's that love which also finally made me realize that our greatest responsibility as your humans was to make that decision to let you go peacefully. Goodbye Mister Pipster, we are going to miss you so much!

Two Wheels To Work: Meet Branson and Aubrey

Branson has been a bike commuter for about 20 years, and now commutes 8 miles each way with his 3 year old son Aubrey in a bike trailer behind his fixed-gear bicycle. He says bike commuting has helped keep him in shape, reduced his carbon footprint, and has given him another cool thing to share with his son. Aubrey has quickly become a big fan of cycling, and now has his own "big boy bike" with training wheels!

Branson says cycling has made him a happier person and has allowed him to experience places and things that he never thought possible. Most recently, cycling took him to France for his second participation in the once-every-four-years Paris-Brest-Paris 1200 Kilometer bike ride, one of the oldest cycling events still regularly taking place. He completed the over 750 mile course in good time- riding a fixed-gear, of course.

When asked what advice he’d like to give motorists, Branson says “We’re human beings too- look after us, as you would want us to look after you." If you see him and Aubrey out on the road, slow down, give them a wave hello and plenty of space when passing.