In November 1986, Kodak supplied me with a free roll of TMax 100 black & white film as part of a ‘care package’ of new products for students in the Photographic Illustration programs at the Rochester Institute of Technology .
The combination of Kodak’s recently released T-Max 100 ‘T’ grain black & white film and a Canon 50mm lens allowed for a very sharp image with exceptionally fine grain and broad tonality. I scanned this 35mm negative with my Epson V500 scanner. Incidentally, at the left of the image is General Railway Signal’s Rochester plant.
The T-Max black & white films were brand new at the time. They were significant because they used a new ‘T’ grain that featured flat silver halide grains that were supposed to reduce the visual granularity in the film (and lower the film’s silver content).
On this bright sunny morning, I went trackside in Rochester to expose my free film. I had Kodachrome 25 in my Leica M2, so I borrowed my roommate’s Canon A1 for the film test.
I photographed a variety of Conrail trains on the former New York Central Water Level Route. I made this image of Rochester & Southern’s Belt Line local crossing the former Buffalo, Rochester & Pittsburgh bridge over Water Level Route at Lincoln Park, west of downtown Rochester. (In 1986, Genesee & Wyoming’s Rochester & Southern assumed operation of the former BR&P 4th Sub-division from CSX’s Baltimore & Ohio.)
Leading R&S’s local was Alco RS-3m 211 leased from the recently formed Genesee Valley Transportation.
The locomotive has a long and colorful history. It featured both a large steam generator and dynamic brakes (thus the high short-hood) and was one of only five RS-3s were built this way: four served Western Maryland, while this one went to the Pennsylvania Railroad but later was traded to the Lehigh Valley, becoming its 211. After 1976, Conrail replaced 211’s original Alco-244 diesel with a recycled 12-cylinder EMD 567 engine.
Boston & Maine GP9 on the Connecticut River Line, December 1985.
Digging through my older photographs, occasionally I come across something really interesting.
Boston & Maine GP9 1736 leads local freight ED-4 southward across the stone arch bridge at Bernardston, Massachusetts at 12:03pm on December 28, 1985. I exposed this using a Rollei Model T with a ‘Superslide’ insert that gave me a 645-size rectangle rather than a 2 1/4 inch square image.
I’d exposed this black & white photograph using my father’s Rollei Model T at Bernardston, Massachusetts, where the railroad crossed an old mill dam on a classic stone arch bridge.
Brandon Delaney and I had gone up to Brattleboro, Vermont, where we found a pair of Boston & Maine GP9s working local freight ED-4. I made a number of images of engine 1736 working in the snow. Then we followed the train south into Massachusetts.
Brandon had previously explored this location at Bernardston and so we set up and waited.
For me this is a lesson in balance and composition: By placing the locomotive over the first pier of the bridge rather than allowing it to move further onto the bridge, I’ve created both visual tension and compositional balance.
The GP9 plays off the old mill at the bottom of the bridge to the left, while de-emphasizing the locomotive allows the eye to focus more on the bridge but never so long as to ignore the engine altogether. The bridge, after all, is the main subject, while the locomotive and mill are secondary to the scene.
I’ve been back here several times over the years and the scene has changed. The old mill and mill dam are history. I don’t know if they were washed away in a flood or were deliberately demolished. At the time they offered links to New England’s faded small-scale industrial past.
Today, because the dam is gone the bridge appears taller since the full length of the piers can be followed right in to the river-bed. Trees have encroached on both sides of the bridge, and even in winter, it can be difficult to get more than one locomotive on the structure. Yet, it can still be a great place to pose a train.
This detail is a very tight crop from my original negative.
On August 22, 2010, Norfolk Southern SD60M 6777 leads symbol 048—a special move of James E. Strates cars—working eastward at West Cameron, New York. Photo made with a Canon EOS 7D in manual mode fitted with a 24mm lens; exposure f3.5 1/500 at ISO 200. (Jpeg and RAW files exposed simultaneously)
Originally Posted September 28, 2012.
On Sunday August 22, 2010, fellow photographer Pat Yough and I were making photos in western New York south of Rochester, when we got word of an unusual train on Norfolk Southern’s former Erie Route. Having worked this territory for more than 25 years, I navigated a course cross country to intercept our mystery train south of Silver Springs at Castile, New York. We were both curious to see what this was. As it turned out it was a single SD60M leading a portion of the James E. Strates Show train. We made our photo at Castile near the remains of old Erie Railroad water tower, then chased eastward. We followed it to Swain, Canaseraga, Arkport, and to Hornell, New York, then into the Canisteo River Valley. Among the locations we chose was at West Cameron, New York, a spot on the inside of curve, where in the 1980s I’d often photographed Conrail and Delaware & Hudson trains passing a former Erie Railroad Style-S upper quadrant semaphore (see Curiously Seeking Erie Semaphores posted on September 23). Conrail had single-tracked the old Erie route through the Canisteo Valley in 1993-1994, so it had been a long time since the semaphore came down, yet a portion of the old westward main was retained at West Cameron for use as a setout track, so despite changes, this location didn’t look substantially different to me than it had ‘back in the day’ .
In 1988, Conrail SD50 6700 leads eastward BUOI (Buffalo to Oak Island) carrying New York City subway cars rebuilt by Morrison Knudsen at Hornell. This passes a semaphore on the westward main track at West Cameron, New York. Photo made with a Rollei Model T, a twin-lens reflex featuring a 75mm f3.5 Zeiss Tessar lens. Exposure calculated with a Sekonic Studio Deluxe hand-held light meter. Negative scanned with an Epson V500 scanner.
Afterwards, I searched back over my 120-size black & white negatives, and located this view made with my old Rollei model T of Conrail’s BUOI in 1988. Compare these two photographs made at virtually the same location, at approximately the same time of day, yet more than 22 years apart. There are many advantages to working the same territory repeatedly over the years. While familiarity may lead to boredom, it can likewise lead a photographer to make interesting comparisons.
A lesson: keep making photographs despite changes that appear to make the railway less interesting.
Over the last couple of days, I’ve displayed contemporary images I made on Pan American Railways lines. Today, I’ve dug deep into my archives and pulled some negatives I exposed in the same territory back in 1985.
February 10, 1985 was a busy day on Guilford’s Boston & Maine lines. I was traveling with John Peters and Norman Yellin and we made it all the way to Mechanicville, New York, having started in the Millers River Valley, east of East Deerfield.
Boston & Maine’s eastward MERU hits the crossing at Eaglebridge, New York on the evening of February 10, 1985. I was fighting the light, but despite this handicap I managed to make a decent exposure with my dad’s M4.Boston & Maine’s eastward MERU passes the old station at Eaglebridge, New York on the evening of February 10, 1985. This has long been a favorite photo; for me it really captures the character of the B&M west end as it looked in the 1980s. The motion blur on the first car adds to the effect.
Toward the end of the day, we chased B&M’s MERU (Mechanicville to Rumford, Maine), photographing it at several locations, including Eaglebridge and Petersburg, New York.
Since last week I ended a chase of a Pan Am freight at the crossing near Petersburg (east of Petersburg Junction where the old Rutland ‘Corkscrew Line’ crossed the B&M), I though these images would make an interesting comparison.
Boston & Maine’s eastward MERU hits the crossing near Petersburg, New York. The angle of the track has always made this an awkward place to photograph moving trains. Many years ago, B&M had a split grade through here, with the other main track located on the far side of the valley.Here’s Pan Am’s westward EDRJ at the very same crossing near Petersburg (albeit a bit farther back from the tracks). I exposed this last week on November 21, 2013 using my Canon EOS 7D.
Where last week, Paul Goewey and I were following a westward freight, 28 years ago we were traveling eastbound. In both situations the light was fading.
I exposed the vintage images on Kodak B&W film using my father’s Leica M4 with a 35mm Summicron lens. Unfortunately, my notes from the day don’t include what exposures I used, nor how I processed the film. Ironically, I had the M4 with me last week too, but the shutter was giving me difficulty so I had to rely on my digital cameras!
Among Pioneer Valley’s early locomotives was Alco S-2 switcher number 106 which came to the line from sister Pinsly road Frankfort & Cincinnati. On October 12, 1984 it stands at Westfield, Massachusetts engine house ready for its trip to Holyoke and back.
I exposed this view of Pioneer Valley Railroad’s Alco S-2 switcher with my old Leica 3A on black & white film on October 12, 1984. On the same day, I’d arranged with the railroad to ride this locomotive to Holyoke and back.
It was a memorable trip. In Holyoke we worked the Graham branch that followed the banks of old canals. Several times we had to stop to open and close gates across the line.
I featured this photo in my recent book North American Locomotives that features railroad by railroad locomotive profiles of many different lines. In addition to the Class 1 carriers, I also profiled a variety of smaller lines, many of which are my personal favorites.
About four miles east of the center of Palmer (Depot Village) CSX’s former Boston & Albany mainline passes a bucolic setting at the bottom of a broad sweeping field as it heads up the Quaboag River Valley. This is best viewed from Route 67, not far east of the split with Route 20.
One summer’s evening more than 30 years ago, my father and I stood out in the field to make a photo of Amtrak’s westward Lake Shore Limited (train 449). Since that time I’ve returned many times to photograph trains.
On March 15, 1986, Amtrak’s eastward Lake Shore Limited heads toward Worcester and Boston on Conrail’s former Boston & Albany main line. Exposed on 120 sized black & white film using a Rollei Model T equipped with an f3.5 75mm Zeiss Tessar lens.
I’ve paired two sets of images here. The black & white photograph was made on March 15, 1986 (‘Beware the Ides of March!’). The color images I exposed a week ago Sunday (July 14, 2013).
Among the changes to the scene over the years has been an increase in undergrowth. A more dramatic change was the recent installation of a voltaic farm (solar panels) on the northside of the field. This alteration has greatly changed the character of the place.
According to an article in a recent Palmer Journal Register, perimeter fencing may soon encircle the voltaic farm. Undoubtedly this progress will further improve the photographs made here beyond all previous measures of aethetic virtue.
Approaching CP79 (at the east end of the Palmer controlled siding)Amtrak’s eastward Lake Shore Limited—train 448, catches the golden glow of evening as it passes the field along Route 67 east of Palmer, Massachusetts. Exposed with a Canon EOS 7D and 40mm pancake lens.The recently installed voltaic farm adds a lovely rustic quality to this bucolic New England scene. Soon electricity will be pulsing from these panels to the electric power grid reducing all forms of polution in the region.
I made this image during my senior year of high school. I don’t remember the specific circumstances, but on that day I’d followed Central Vermont Railway’s southward freight from Palmer to Stafford. I made photos of it south of downtown Monson off Route 32, and at the Massachusetts-Connecticut State Line.
Shortly before the train came into view a cloud conveniently softened the sun. Central Vermont GP9s ease toward a grade crossing at Stafford Springs, Connecticut. With a carefully composed vertical in my rangefinder’s view, I released my Leica’s shutter with an audible snap. Many years later I scanned the negative.
This view in downtown Stafford Springs has always intrigued me. The railroad runs tight to a row of buildings along the main street in town. Today, the brick building featured in the photograph hosts a trendy coffee shop where I sometimes meet my friend Roger Ingraham to wait for trains to pass and discuss photography.
In 2013, New England Central operates the railroad, but the scene hasn’t changed all that much. I still make photos here from time to time.
I exposed this image with my old Leica 3A and 50mm Summitar lens, and used a Weston Master 3 light meter to assist in exposure calculation. I processed the film myself in Microdol-X. Typically, I used a weak formula to save money. By doing so, I inadvertently avoided over developing my negatives (which was a flawed inclination of mine at the time).
I made a few minor contrast modifications in post processing and cleaned up a few small spots and scratches on this nearly 30 year-old 35mm negative.
Palmer Union Station in the foggy gloom of a May 1985 evening. Exposed with a Leica 3A rangefinder on black & white film.
Yesterday (July 10, 2013), I posted night photos I made in Palmer on June 28, 2013. I mentioned that my night photography efforts were part of a long standing tradition. So I dug up this image of the Palmer station exposed nearly three decades earlier.
This was undoubtedly made on a Friday evening. A thick fog from the Quaboag River had enveloped the valley. In the station parking lot, and out of sight, Bob Buck is holding court.
That night I made several views of the Palmer station in silhouette. All were exposed with my old Leica 3A and a 50mm lens, probably a Canon screwmount which I favored at the time. I was using my father’s Linhof tripod to support the camera. Exposure was calculated strictly from experience, and was probably about 30 seconds at f2.8.
Interestingly, just the other day (July 9, 2013) I had the opportunity to interview Jim Shaughnessy about the night photography techniques he used to capture steam locomotives on film back in the 1950s. While similar to mine, his approach was very different and he perfected it more than three decades before my image was exposed.
Where I used 35mm film and strictly ambient light for this image, Jim tended to use a 4×5 camera and a skilled combination of ambient and artificial flash.
Of course, I was well acquainted with Jim’s work by the time I made this photo. There has been a copy of Donald Duke’s 1961 book Night Train on our shelf for as long as I can remember! This features Jim’s work among that of other well-established practitioners of the art of railway night photography.
Here’s an image from my early archives. I was wandering around Boston on a snowy day in January 1982. Among the other photos I made were views along the Green Line on Huntington Avenue. This one caught my eye the other day when I was reviewing my early work. It require a nominal crop. Many of my early photos tend to be off-level. This problem is easily fixed today.
South Station was the main passenger terminal for Boston & Albany and New Haven Railroads, and in the early years of the twentieth century was the busiest passenger station in the world (as measured in the number of daily train movements).
Amtrak’s Bascule drawbridge over the Hutchinson River in December 1982. Leica 3A with 50mm Summitar Lens.
Between 1973 and 1985, my paternal grandparents lived at Co-op City in The Bronx, New York City. They had a great view of Amtrak’s former New Haven Railroad line from New Rochelle to the Hell Gate Bridge, which carried all of Amtrak’s Boston-New York trains. Until about 1980, this route also hosted infrequent freights.
When I was younger, I’d keenly watch for trains from my grandparents 19th floor terrace, all the while hoping to see Amtrak’s aged former Pennsylvania GG1 electrics. By 1982, all of Amtrak’s GG1s had been retired.
I made this morning view of a Penn-Station bound Amtrak train approaching the bascule drawbridge over the Hutchinson River led by an AEM7 electric. The scene itself wasn’t remarkable at the time, but I’m glad I made the effort to put it on film. It fascinates me now and brings me back to another time. Although details, such as how to effectively work with backlighting eluded me, I managed to get my exposure pretty close anyway.
I was 16 at the time. I used my Leica 3A with f2.0 50mm Summitar—the camera I carried with me everywhere. A couple of years ago, I located some of my long-lost early negatives and made a project of scanning them. The miracle of modern scanning technology coupled with post-processing allowed me to finally make something of photos I’d made before I was technically competent to make decent prints.
Stay tuned for tomorrow’s post; “the view from grandma’s terrace.”
Other kids would get assignments along the lines of: “Write a 500 word essay on how you spent your summer vacation.” I always wished for something like that. In 7th grade this would have read:
“We live on a boring road where nothing ever happens, so to keep me from driving my mother crazy, my father took me to Boston at least one day a week. My dad works near Harvard Square in a bright office with lots of computers. (That’s actually in Cambridge, not really Boston.)
“The first week he show me how to use the computer terminal and I played a game called ‘R Adventure’. The second week he showed me how to write a short program (that’s a bunch of lines and letters that tells the computer what to do). I wrote a program with a sneaky line called an ‘infinite loop’. This tells the computer to repeat the same line again and again. That was neat. I wrote ‘Brian Likes Trains.’ And this scrolled slowly over the CRT (that’s the computer screen that looks something like a TV but with green letters.)
“I figured I’d improve my program, so I added an exponent. When I ran the program the next time, the screen filled with ‘Brian Likes Trains’ faster and faster, soon the whole screen was rolling. Then it suddenly stopped. Actually the whole computer stopped. All the computers in the room stopped!
“A graduate student came in and spoke to my dad. Then my dad gave me a dollar and told me to go ride the subway or something. So I rode around and came back when it was time to drive back to Monson. Writing that program was like magic. Every time after that, my dad would give me a dollar and I’d ride around with my camera taking pictures.
“By August, I’d been on all the subway lines. So I went to the railroad station. South Station is a great place, it’s where they keep all the Budd Cars. Those are great because the engineers who run them let you ride up front and don’t charge you to ride.
This is South Station, that’s where you can see the Budd Cars.
“The Budd cars go all over the place, but if you’re not careful you might not get back by the time to go home, so it’s really important to get a schedule.
“My dad sometimes gave me his ‘SUPER WIDE ANGLE lens’. This is much better than my ‘Normal’ lens because its comes with a viewfinder which is an extra part you put on top of the camera that helps you to see pictures. With my normal lens, you have to look through a little hole, and that makes it harder to find good pictures.
“He also gave me a light meter to measure the light and set the camera. I made lots of pictures. This is one of my favorite because it shows the Budd Cars and the old signals at South Station. I had to walk all the way from the subway stop to the parking lot to make this picture and it was really hot outside.
“Now summer’s over, and I can’t ride around on the subway or Budd Cars until next year. I hate school.”
In1982, I was visiting my friend Dan Howard in Needham, Massachusetts. We’d made a day of riding bicycles to Framingham and back to photograph trains. (Neither of us were old enough to hold a valid driving license).
At the time, I was very enthusiastic about the railroad, and eager to capture it on film. Yet, I had very little conception of how to make photos. Furthermore, while I had a reasonably high quality camera, this was entirely dependant on my ability to set it properly (aperture, shutter speed, and focus)
I was using a 1930s-era Leica 3A with an f2.0 Summitar lens. This didn’t have the crutches provided with most cameras today: no auto focus, no auto exposure, no zoom-lens, and no instant response digital display window.
Simply getting film in the camera required the aid of a Swiss Army knife. While focusing the Leica using the rangefinder was a bit abstract. To gauge exposure, I used at Weston Master III light meter. With this camera I exposed Kodachome slides, and black & white 35mm film that I processed in the kitchen sink.
Exposed with a Leica 3A with 50mm Summitar lens on Kodak black & white negative film; scanned with an Epson V600, and processed digitally using PhotoShop (to enhance contrast, and remove blemishes.
To simply get a photo of any kind, I had base level camera-operating skills, but no sense for how to make real railroad photos. I didn’t appreciate conventional angles, nor did I know what to crop out or what to feature. I knew precious little about working with light or how to make optimum use of the film media. My chemical processing skills were rudimentary, at best.
I just really wanted to make railway pictures! And, honestly, it’s a miracle that I got any results at all.
Thankfully on that day, Dan & I met a friendly and helpful grade crossing gate keeper, who manually worked the gates where former Boston & Albany and New Haven Railroad lines crossed the main street. He chatted with us and shared knowledge about when trains were coming. (Incidentally, I made a color slide or two of him working the gates, which seemed like the thing to do).
Toward the end of the day, a Conrail local departed Framingham’s North Yard, heading across the street and over the diamonds with the B&A on its way toward the Attleboro and beyond. I made this image ‘against the light’ looking into the setting sun, with a GP15-1 leading the local (which is about to cross the street) and some MBTA Budd cars in front of the old station.
Sometimes raw and unchecked enthusiasm produces a more interesting image than one crafted by skill, but hampered by ambivalence (or over thinking the photographic process.) Modern photographic scanners allow for me to interpret what I captured more than 30 years ago on film, and compensate for my lack of technical skill.
About 10 months ago (July 2012), I started Tracking the Light. In the short time span since then I’ve had about 19,000 hits. While small numbers compared with Gangnam Style’s viral You-Tube dance video (with more than 1.7 billion hits), it’s a gratifying start. (BTW, there are some train scenes in Gangnam Style, so it isn’t a completely random reference).
In my introductory post, I offered a bit of my background with a taste of my philosophy on the subject of railway photography; ‘There is no ‘correct way’ to make photographs, although there are techniques that, once mastered, tend to yield pleasing results. I hope to expand upon those themes in these Internet essays by telling the stories behind the pictures, as well as sharing the pictures themselves.’
Irish Rail Intercity Rail Cars converge on Islandbridge Junction, May 2013. Lumix LX3 photo. I routinely post images of Irish railways. Check regularly for updates. Also, I have a special page on Dublin that is more than railway images. For more Irish Rail click here!An empty timber from Waterford near Donamon, County Roscommon, Ireland. Canon 7D with 100mm f2.0 lens.
What began as an infrequent opportunity to share work via the Internet has evolved into a nearly daily exercise. In the interval, I’ve learned a bit what makes for an interesting post, while working with a variety of themes to keep the topic interesting.
TTC Streetcar at corner of King and Queen Streets, Sunnyside, Toronto, February 8, 2010. Lumix LX-3 set at ISO 80. Originally Posted February 8, 2013
Regular viewers may have observed common threads and topics. While I’ve made a concerted effort to vary the subject matter considered ‘railway photography,’ I regularly return to my favorite subjects and often I’ll post sequences with a common theme.
Occasionally I get questions. Someone innocently asked was I worried about running out of material! Unlikely, if not completely improbable; Not only do I have an archive of more than 270,000 images plus tens of thousands of my father’s photos, but I try to make new photos everyday. My conservative rate of posting is rapidly outpaced by my prolific camera efforts.
New England Central GP38 3850 leads train 608 at Stafford Springs on January 25, 2013. A series of difficult crossings in Stafford Springs is the primary reason for a 10 mph slow order through town. Especially difficult is this crossing, where the view of the tracks is blocked by a brick-building. Protection is offered by a combination of grade crossing flashers and traffic lights. Canon 7D with 40mm Pancake Lens; ISO 400 1/500th second at f8.0. In camera JPG modified with slight cropping to correct level and scaling for web. A RAW image was exposed simultaneously with the Jpg. Originally posted on January 26, 2013.
Someone else wondered if all my photos were ‘good’. I can’t answer that properly. I don’t judge photography as ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Certainly, some of my images have earned degrees of success, while others have failed to live up to my expectations (It helps to take the lens cap ‘off’). Tracking the Light is less about my success rate and more about my process of making images.
A couple pair of laden Bord na Mona trains struggle upgrade, laying sand down as they ascend a short steep grade on the run back toward Mountdillon. This is the same stretch of track pictured in Irish Bog Railways–Part 2. Originally posted on March 4, 2013
I’m always trying new techniques, exploring new angles, while playing with different (if not new) equipment.
The most common questions regarding my photography are; ‘What kind of camera do you use?’ and ‘Have you switched to digital?’ I can supply neither the expected nor straight-forward responses. But, in short, I work with a variety of equipment and recording media. I aim to capture what I see and preserve it for the future. I try to have a nice time and I hope to entertain my friends.
Learn my secrets, click here. This image was made in Spring 2012 on Fuji Acros 100 film exposed with a Leica 3a and 21mm lens and specially processed for scanning.Semaphores are one of my themes. See my post from September 23, 2012. Eastward Delaware & Hudson symbol freight ‘Jet1’ passes semaphores at milepost 320 (measured from Jersey City) east of Adrian, New York on May 14, 1988.
Originally posted on December 1, 2013. CSX Q427 rolls through Palmer, Massachusetts, at 11:01 pm on November 30, 2012. Notice the photographer’s shadow superimposed on the blur of the train. Single exposure with Panasonic Lumix LX-3 with Leitz Summicron lens, zoom set to 5.1mm, ISO 200, exposed in ‘A’ mode with +2/3 over-ride, f2.2 at 7 seconds. Entirely exposed with existing light; no flash.
CSX General Electric Evolution-series diesels work west at Palmer, Massachusetts on May 17, 2013. Exposed digitally with my Canon EOS 7D.
CSX Q264 at West Warren, Massachusetts.
Martinez, California, as viewed from Carquinez Scenic Drive. Canon EOS 3 with 100-400 mm lens, Fujichrome slide film.The number plate on a smoke box door catches the hint of a blue sky beyond. Canon EOS7D with 28-135mm lens.
Exposed using a Nikon F3T with 24mm lens and R2 red filter on Fuji Neopan 400, and processed in Agfa Rodinal Special.
As I mentioned in Polish Steam Working Disused Track (Published on March 6, 2013), eleven years ago I rode a enthusiast’s excursion from Wolsztyn to Zagan in south eastern Poland led by PKP (Polish National Railways) 2-10-0 Ty3-2. This trip covered a variety of disused lines southwest of the Wolsztyn steam depot.
On that day, the train stopped more than 25 times for photography. This image was made near the end of the run. We were at a remote spot, not far from Zagan. The track was fairly derelict. After we got off, the train pulled ahead making for some nice effluence from the engine. Spring was in bloom and I framed the World War II-era 2-10-0 in the blossoming branches of a hedge.
A horse-drawn wagon crosses the line at Nowa Weis, Poland. The semaphores have ‘x’s’ on them indicating they are out of service. Exposed on 120 black & white film with a Rollei Model T.
One my favorite images from the April 2002 Polish adventure is this timeless scene of three middle-age men on a horse-drawn wagon crossing the line at Nowa Weis. I caught this on film shortly before sunset with my Rollei. It was on PKP’s (Polish National Railways) secondary line that runs southeast from Wolzstyn to Leszno across through unspoiled pastoral countryside. The largely steam operated and under-maintained railway, added to a rural charm that harked back to another generation. For me it was like stepping back a half century, or more.
Regularly scheduled revenue steam-powered passenger train in rural Poland in April 2002.
As a follow up to yesterday’s view of a 2-10-0 on disused track, here’s a view of a regular revenue train from that same visit to Poland in April 2002. On a scheduled run from Poznan to Wolsztyn, PKP Ol69-111 passes German-style semaphores on approach to a rural station. At this time, several of the daily passenger Poznan-Wolzstyn trains routinely operated with steam, with Ol69 class 2-6-2s being the most common type on them. This was a secondary main line, and although weedy, the track was in reasonably good shape. Chasing the trains on the road was a challenge.
I made this image with my Rollei Model T on 120 black & white film, hand processed using my preferred recipe. The combination of traditional subject matter and the classic camera with 75mm Zeiss Tessar lends to a timeless view. Only, the rake of East German-built double-deck passenger carriages might seem incongruous to un-trained eyes. In fact, these cars were standard in the late era and consistent with Polish passenger practice. In this picture they are dressed in a olive drab livery, however some were later painted in a dandelion yellow, which truly seems out of character behind steam.
Check Tracking the Light tomorrow for more on this theme!
Broadstone Station, Dublin greets the new millennium. Rollei Model T with f3.5 75mm Zeiss Tessar lens.
Broadstone Station was the Dublin terminus of Ireland’s Midland & Great Western Railway. This enigmatic railway was built west from Dublin parallel to the suffering Royal Canal, and Broadstone Station was located adjacent to the existing Royal Canal basin in the north city center. M&GWR was among lines consolidated as Great Southern Railways in 1924, a move that sealed the fate of Broadstone; it was closed as a passenger terminal in 1936 (although tracks remained for freight services into the 1970s). The buildings survive as a Dublin Bus depot (garage). The old canal basin was filled in many years ago and is now car park. The canal bridge that once spanned the road adjacent to the station is remembered in period photos on the walls of neighborhood pubs. Soon rails will return to Broadstone in the form of a LUAS light rail extension.
Broadstone Station is a vestige of Irish railways long gone. The station was executed in an Egyptian revival style and completed in 1850. I find the building fascinating, yet difficult to photograph because it is hemmed in by the five inhibitors of urban railway photography: pavement, walls, fences, wires and unkempt brush. On a weekday, cars and buses surround the old structure, which lend to ironic images of a grand decayed station encircled by transport modes that contributed to its redundancy. Making a simple image that captures the grandeur of the station isn’t easy. Here are two of my efforts: one was made with my old Rollei Model T on 120 size black & white film on January 3, 2000. I exposed the other digitally last Tuesday afternoon (February 19, 2013) using my Canon 7D and 40mm pancake lens.
Dublin’s Broadstone Station, February 19, 2013. Exposed with Canon 7D fitted with 40mm pancake lens.
January 15th, a day of significance: while best known as Martin Luther King Jr.’s birthday, it is less well known for the anniversary of the 1953 Washington Union Terminal crash, when Pennsylvania Railroad’s Federal Express lost its brakes and GG1 Electric 4876 careened into the lobby of the terminal. This spectacular train wreck, on the eve of Eisenhower’s inauguration, made headlines in every major newspaper across the country.
That was 60 years ago today! However, thirty years ago, GG1 4876—then operated by NJ Transit, was still in daily service. It routinely worked between Penn Station and South Amboy on New York & Long Branch trains. I intercepted this infamous electric on various occasions in its final years of service. I’d hoped to make a photo on the anniversary of its infamy. And I went so far as to write NJ Transit to find out which trains it would be working, to which they kindly replied in detail. However a snowstorm on eve of 4876’s 30th anniversary precluded my travel, so my intended images from that day never happened. What I’ve posted here are few of my black & white images scanned from 1980s-era prints. They were exposed with my battle-worn Leica IIIA from my High School days. I processed the film in the kitchen sink using a weak mix of Kodak Microdol-X.
GG1 4876 at Sunnyside Yard, Queens, New York in April 1979. Leica IIIA w 90mm f2.8 Elmar fitted with Leica Visoflex.
New Jersey DOT GG1 4876 at Rahway Junction in 1982. Leica IIIA w 50mm f2.0 Summitar.
In August 1984, I made a ten-day adventure of riding Amtrak. I visited Montreal via the Montrealer, then to Washington D.C., where I boarded the Cardinal for Chicago. It was my first visit to America’s ‘Railroad Capital’; I spent three days wandering around, riding trains and transit, exposing every frame of film I brought with me. At that time, my standard camera was a 1937-built Leica IIIA that my father gave me for my 10th birthday. In addition to this Leica, for this trip, my dad gave me loan of its clone, which he’d bought years before complete with wind-up mechanical drive. Since the drive was weighty, I left it at home. Fitted to this camera was an obsolete collapsible Leitz 50mm Elmar with non-standard f-stops (f3.5, f4.5, f6.3, f9 & etc). While a remarkably sharp piece of glass, this lens suffered from antique coatings that made it inadequate for my color photography and made it susceptible to excessive flare. As a result, I relegated this lens to my B&W work, while using my 50mm f2.0 Summitar for color slides. Among the B&W photos I made was this image of Chicago Regional Transportation Authority F40PH 161 at Chicago & North Western Station.
Chicago, August 19, 1984. Exposed with Lecia IIIA and 50mm Elmar lens using Kodak Safety Film 5063 (bulk loaded Tri-x 400) rated at ISO 400, processed in Microdol-X.
What I remember best from this solo trip was arriving in Evanston, Illinois, where I had a pre-booked and pre-paid hotel room waiting for me, only to be told in a sneering manner by the woman at the desk that I, ‘wasn’t allowed to stay at the hotel, because I was a minor’. She then began to admonish me for traveling alone! I was 17. I was incensed! “Lady, I’ve been traveling for weeks by myself, and you’re the first to cause me a problem because of my age! So! You’d rather have me on the street than in your hotel?” I walked out. Not one to waste time, I resorted to staying in the Evanston YMCA, which was primitive, but adequate, cheap, and didn’t interfere with my travel because of age.
In 2003, Irish Rail operated its sugar beet trains via Kildare because the normal routing between Waterford and Limerick Junction was closed as result of a bridge collapse at Cahir, County Tipperary. On December 6, 2003, I was in place at Cherryville Junction (where the Waterford Road joins the Cork Road—a few miles west of Kildare Station) to catch a laden sugar beet train on its way from Wellingtonbridge, County Wexford to Mallow, County Cork. (Since there is no direct chord at Cherryville to allow a movement from the Waterford Road onto the Cork Road in the down direction, this sugar beet train would continue up to Kildare where the locomotive would run around, thus allowing the train to reverse direction for its onward journey to Mallow.)
Irish Rail laden sugar beet train at Cherryville, Junction 6 December 2003.That same day, I was also fortunate to intercept locomotive 124 and a three-piece Mark3 push-pull, normally assigned to the Limerick-Limerick Junction shuttle, returning from Dublin after working a ‘relief’ from Limerick Junction.
It was a characteristically dull day. I was working with a Rollei Model T (120 size roll film fitted with a f3.5 Zeiss Tessar) and Fuji Neopan™ 400 film. Key to obtaining the desired tonality was my process. For developer I used Agfa Rodinal Special™ 1:32 with water for 7 minutes, then after dual fixing baths, Perma Wash™ for 3 minutes, and 10 minutes in running water, I toned the negatives in selenium solution (mixed 1:9 with water) for 9 minutes, then re-washed for 20 minutes in running water. (Warning: selenium is poisonous and should be handled with extreme care in a well-ventilated room). See: Installment 6: Black & White revisited; Old Tech for a New Era part 2—Secrets Revealed!.
For comparison, I’ve scanned the entire 120 size negative strip. This is in color and unmodified during scanning. The slightly purple tone is a result of the selenium toner. The two primary benefits from toning negatives with selenium solution are improved highlight density and better archival quality. While the effect is subtle, it adds snap to photographs exposed on a dull day.
Irish Rail class 141 diesels 160 and 148 lead empty beet wagons at Cherryville Junction on 6 December 2003. The train has taken the switch and is headed toward Waterford.
Logo of the Lockheed L-1011 TriStar (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
On Christmas Day 1979, I flew from New York’s Kennedy Airport to Mexico City on an Eastern Airlines Lockheed L-1011 Tristar. At Mexico City airport I met my uncle and we spent a week wandering around. Among our adventures was a visit to Cuernavaca where I met an elderly survivor of San Francisco’s 1906 earthquake and fire. My uncle and I rode National Railways of Mexico local train from Cuernavaca to Iguala behind an imported General Motors G16 diesel-electric. The fare was 8 pesos each—not much money, even in 1979! Throughout these wanderings I made good use of my Leica IIIA and Summitar lens. I exposed black & white and color slide film with mixed results. Despite some dodgy exposures (my light meter wasn’t the greatest) and considering I was only 13 at the time, I managed to take some memorable images.
An early morning view of National Railways of Mexico’s Cuernavaca station where I recall chickens running around on the tracks—just like in Conrail’s Palmer Yard!
New England Central GP38 3850 shoves on the back of southward freight number 608 crossing Route 32 in South Monson. Contax G2 with Zeiss 28mm Biogon lens, Agfa Scala black & white reversal film.
I often make interesting images when I’m just playing around. Between 2001 and 2007 I regularly worked with a Contax G2 rangefinder and I typically used it to expose either Fuji color slide film or black & white negatives. One day, in autumn 2001 I loaded the camera with Agfa Scala, a distinctive black & white reversal film that when processed offered high-contrast monochrome slides. Among my subjects was New England Central which runs right through Monson, Massachusetts. This day, the southward freight required a helper out of Palmer Yard to assist its ascent of State Line Hill. While not unheard of, New England Central doesn’t use helpers every day. I caught the train several times with my G2, then waited an eternity for the slides to come back. No fault of the lab: after I sent them in, I’d returned to Dublin, and so it was about three months from the time I exposed the photos to when I finally examined them. Interesting! That was eleven years ago now.
New England Central’s 608 climbing State Line Hill approaches Smith Bridge (Stafford Hollow Road). This was a favorite spot of my late friend, Robert A. Buck of Warren, Massachusetts, and on many occasions he photographed Central Vermont’s 2-8-0s here laboring up the grade. There were fewer trees back then. (And even more in 2012 than in 2001!) Contax G2 with 28mm Zeiss Biogon lens, Agfa Scala black & white reversal film.The old coal elevator at Squires Lumber & Hardware in Monson, Massachusetts. This classic structure was dismantled a few years after I made this photo. Contax G2 with 45mm Zeiss Planar lens, Agfa Scala black & white reversal film.
I made my first trip to Poland in May 2000; while part of my quest was to experience steam in revenue service, among the most compelling images I made were of derelict engines such as this one in Silesia. I worked with both 35mm slide film and 120 black & white, the latter exposed with my Rolleiflex Model T.
Drive wheel of a disused PKP steam locomotive in Silesia, May 2000. Exposed with a Rolleiflex Model T twin lens reflex with Zeiss f3.5 Tessar.
On this warm May evening in 1986, I exposed a trailing view of Amtrak’s westward Lake Shore Limited as it hits the Central Vermont diamond at Palmer. The train radiates the glint of the setting sun. Between eastward and westward main-tracks, Conrail has installed the dispatcher controlled switch that in July 1986 became ‘CP83’ and resulted in the removal of the old westward main track on the Boston & Albany route between Palmer and Springfield (CP92). [The numbers of the control points signify the approximate distance from Boston’s South Station.] At the left is the canopy on Palmer’s Union Station which Conrail removed in November of 1986. Today the old station has been restored inside and serves as the popular Steaming Tender railroad-themed restaurant.
At 7:13pm on May 28, 1986, Amtak 449, Boston section of the Lake Shore Limited clatters across the Palmer diamond on Conrail’s former Boston & Albany mainline. At Albany-Rensselaer this will join with the New York section for the journey over the Water Level Route to Chicago. Exposed on 120 B&W film with a Rolleiflex Model T twin-lens reflex fitted with 75mm f3.5 Zeiss Tessar lens. This camera was not fitted with a prismatic view finder. Thus the finder image was a mirror of reality which made composition of moving trains challenging. Nor did this camera have a meter, so exposure was calculated using a hand-held meter and the photographer’s experience. In truth, bright sun shining off the stainless-steel passenger cars resulted in an overexposed negative that was adjusted with Photoshop after scanning.
Here are a few photos from a roll of 35mm B&W film that for all intents and purposes has never seen the light of day until now. Why? Back when I exposed them, the trains pictured were the most mundane-sort to be seen in Ireland. Really, it was just the routine parade of passenger trains that arrived and departed Dublin’s Heuston Station every day. The light wasn’t especially good, and at the time I was primarily experimenting with my Nikons using some telephoto lenses. I was just playing around, and I didn’t deem the pictures sufficiently interesting to print. After processing, they went directly into the file without second thought. I came across them only today while searching for some views I made in Dublin on Christmas Day 1999 for use as a Christmas card. In the interval, over the last ten years, the Irish Rail passenger scene in Ireland has completely changed, so what were dull and routine now look pretty interesting to my eye. I’ve scanned some choice images on my Epson V600 for presentation here.
Looking toward platforms 6, 7, and 8—opened in September 2002—with the Heuston Station headhouse making for a distant backdrop in this February 2003 view. I was playing with a Tokina 400mm f5.6 lens fitted to my Nikon N90S (equivalent to the F90X sold in Europe and Japan).The Guinness sidings west of Heuston Station were used to load kegs of beer from the St. James Gate Brewery. This traffic left the railway in 2006, and today beer is road-hauled around the country. These sidings are now used to store passenger trains and per-way (maintenance of way) equipment.Irish Rail’s 2700-series diesel multiple-units were built by Alstom and delivered in 1999. In recent years they largely worked branch line services in the west of Ireland, but back in 2003 some were assigned to Dublin suburban service. This entire class of equipment was withdrawn in mid-2012 and is now stored out of service.Irish Rail class 201 number 213 leading Mark3 carriages on approach to Heuston Station in February 2003.This is one of my only images of Irish Rail 154 at work. While I have thousands of images of the 141 class ‘Bo-Bos’, old 154 was among the most elusive. I’m glad I captured it this day working as the Heuston pilot, seen here shunting Mark II carriages toward the station platforms.Irish Rail 202 departs platform 8 in a cloud of its own exhaust. 400mm view.Irish Rail’s General Motors-built Class 201 diesel-electrics were standard on most passenger intercity runs in 2003. Today, they are only used from Heuston passenger services with push-pull Mark IV trains to Cork. (However, they are also assigned to Dublin Connolly—Belfast Central Enterprise trains, and some freight services.)Irish Rail’s General Motors-built 071 class diesel-electrics were still regularly used in passenger service; while most of these rugged locomotives remain in traffic in 2012, they are largely relegated to freight and per-way services.
My choice of film was Fuji Neopan 400, which I processed in Agfa Rodinal Special (not to be confused with ordinary Afga Rodinal) which was a highly active developer sold in liquid form, difficult to obtain in the U.S. When working with this developer I tended to use a relatively dilute solution that allowed me a 3.5 minute development time with the film rated as recommended by the manufacturer.
IRT number 2 train approaches Gun Hill Road on the White Plains Road Line in the Bronx. Exposed in summer 1980 using a Leica IIIA with f2.0 Summitar lens (details unrecorded, or records lost).
This photo dates me. I found it looking through some scans for another project and it struck a chord, so I thought I’d put it up. In the 1970s and early 1980s, my grandparents lived at Co-op City in the Bronx, and every summer my brother Séan & I would travel to New York for a week-long visit. These trips provided me with great photo opportunities; their apartment overlooked Amtrak’s former New Haven line connecting New Rochelle with Penn Station (Hell Gate Bridge route), and we would regularly explore the city. My grandfather had spent most of his life in New York and he enjoyed showing us around. This day we took a bus from Co-op city to the old IRT station at Gun Hill Road. Back then I always carried my antique Leica IIIA with Summitar lens. New York’s subway was a favorite subject and I made many photos of it, most of them not so good. I inherited this habit of photographing the subway from my father, who had been making photos of the subway system since the mid-1950s. I was only 13 when I made this image. I processed it in the sink using Kodak Microdol-X developer. I admit that my processing technique was about as raw as my imaging skills. Despite these flaws, I think I did a pretty good job of capturing the scene. That was 32 years ago! Seems like forever. I scanned it on my Epson V600 and cleaned up the scan in Photoshop. This is full frame, although I adjusted the contrast slightly to make up for what I lost in processing.
New England Central milepost 65, Palmer, Massachusetts, July 2012. Exposed with Leica M4 and f1.4 35mm Summilux on Fuji Acros 100; unmodified scan.
Technique: Customizing process for optimal tonality with minimal post-process adjustment
I promised to reveal secrets! While I won’t tell you which American railroad CEO is a serious railfan, nor will I divulge which North American railway company is on the verge of centrifugal destruction, I will spell out the details of my proven black & white process!
Windsor, Connecticut, July 30, 2012. Exposed with Leica M4 and f1.4 35mm Summilux on Fuji Acros 100; unmodified scan.
In Installment 5 Black & White revisited Part 1, I elaborated on my philosophies and theories behind my traditional black & white photography. I’m not going to rehash that any more than necessary, instead I’ll detail the formulas and specifics of my process so that other photographers may take advantage of my experimentation, and perhaps further refine the process. I go into great detail, so hopefully the specifics will be easily understood.
Back in the late 1980s, I’d refined my B&W photography using Kodak Tri-X and other period films. Typically, I’d overexpose by a stop (basically by rating ‘400 ISO Tri-X’ at 200 ISO—a one stop difference, although in actual practice my system of exposure was more complex). Then, using a diluted mix of Kodak D76 or Ilford ID11 (1:1 developer to water), I’d under-process the film by about 20-25 percent from recommended time. My intent was to produce negatives that while appearing on ‘thin’ side in fact offered adequate detail to produce beautifully rich prints with deep blacks, and a full range of grays with minimum visible grain (in an 8×10 inch print). At that time I preferred prints with relatively low contrast and lots of gray, yet which retained clean, white highlights.
Today my process is different. First of all, I now expose film with the intent of scanning the negatives and not for making chemical prints. Secondly, I’ve altered the process to produce a higher contrast image, one that I feel is better suited for digital display. Instead of Tri-X I’ve been largely working with Fuji Neopan 100 Acros (ISO 100). While initial experiments required a bit of post processing manipulation in Photoshop to adjust the gamma curve of the film image, ultimately I aimed to produced negatives that don’t require this time-consuming post processing adjustment, and more to the point, look great on a computer screen; the intended output is Apple’s iPad.
Southward Vermont Rail System freight at Inwood, Vermont July 11, 2012. Exposed with Leica M4 and f1.4 35mm Summilux on Fuji Acros 100; unmodified scan.
As I mentioned in Installment 5, Black & White revisited; Old Tech for a New Era part 1, I experimented using my antique Leica IIIa with a 21mm Super-Angulon; with these tests I exposed Acros at its recommended 100 ISO, while using a hand-held Minolta Mark IV light meter in reflective mode to calculate exposure (and fine tuning the exposure aided by more than 25 years of my experience working with that unforgiving medium called ‘color slides’). With my exposure calculations my goal was not just to get a satisfactory exposure for each individual frame, but to maintain consistency through-out the entire roll of film, as I would with color slides. (Just for reference my typical daylight exposure with 100 ISO film in ‘full’ New England sun would be f5.6 at 1/500th of a second.)
Amtrak’s westward Lake Shore Limited (train 449) at West Warren, Massachusetts on August 3, 2012. Exposed with Leica M4 and f1.4 35mm Summilux on Fuji Acros 100; scan modified slightly using Photoshop to improve sky texture.
I then processed the film in Kodak HC110, using the as-recommended ‘dilution B’. (HC110 is a syrupy developer with a variety of different recommended dilutions; dilution B, as I mixed it, is one part HC110 syrup with 31 parts water. Since I require 32 ounces of developer, this makes for a relative straight forward mix. )
[Note: While a metric equivalent needs only to maintain the ratio; for reference: 1 ounce = 29.6 ml; 32 ounces = 946.2 ml]
From start to finish, my black & white process goes like this:
1) Load film on plastic reels into plastic tanks (in total darkness); cover tank and turn on darkroom lights.
2) Bring all chemistry to ideal developer temperature (in this case 68ºF/20ºC).
3) Pour 32 ounces of water into tank as a pre-bath, soak for 1-2 minutes (with very gentle agitation every 30 seconds; three slow inversions, then a firm tap with the tank at a 45-degree angle to dislodge any air-bubbles, sometimes giving a second tap if bubbles appear).
4) Drain pre-wash, and add developer, agitating to start for about 15 seconds (constantly, but very gently), then returning to the 30 second agitation interval as noted. My total process time at 68ºF was 4 minutes 45 seconds.
5) Drain developer, and quickly add stop-bath, agitating for 30 seconds total time.
6) Drain stop-bath, and add First Fix for 2-3 minutes. (My First Fix is typically already been used, and is ideally Ilford Rapid Fix mixed 1:4 with water). Agitate in same manner as developer.
7) Drain First-Fix, add Second-Fix (same mix as first fix, but freshly mixed) for 2-3 minutes.
8) Drain Second-Fix.
9) Rinse in running water for 3 minutes.
10) Inspect negatives.
11) Add Perma Wash/Hypo Clearing agent for 3 minutes.
12) Rinse in running water for 10 minutes.
13) Add Kodak Selenium toner solution (mixed 1:9 water), agitate very gently once every 30 seconds; total time for toning not more than 9 minutes. (Caution: Selenium toner is unhealthy; extreme care is required to avoid contact with the solution and toning should be done in a well ventilated place, typically outside. Wear gloves.)
14) Rinse in running water for 10-15 minutes.
15) Final rinse in clean de-ionized water with a few drops of Kodak Photo-Flo 200 (wetting agent).
16) Remove from reels and hang dry.
I’ve scanned the negatives at 3200 dpi using an Epson V600 flatbed scanner. After making hi-res TIFFs for my archive, I scaled selected images into the JPEG format for Web display. (While my initial application is computer/iPad display, I want a hi-res image for future use.)
Amtrak timetable rack, Berlin, Connecticut, July 2012. Exposed with Leica M4 and f1.4 35mm Summilux on Fuji Acros 100; unmodified scan.
Using this process, I obtained satisfactory results for the iPad, but the negatives required too much post processing to adjust the gamma curve for desirable contrast. Specifically I needed to improve highlight and shadow areas. Also, I found that the peculiarities of the 21mm lens were complicating matters. This lens has almost a polarized contrast/color-palate which made for some challenging black & white images. Some of the photos are pleasing, but my success ratio was less than hoped for.
I found two more pleasing alternatives: One was my Nikon F3 with traditional lenses (topic for another post), the other was working with my Dad’s Leica M4 and a 35mm f1.4 Summilux lens. Using this latter camera/lens combination, I then further refined my processing. Specifically, I increased development time by 30 seconds to 5 minutes 15 seconds, then ultimately to 5 minutes 30 seconds while making two other small changes:
First, I added a very small amount of developer to my pre-bath. This is a technique I use for other B&W processes that seems to have helped here as well. In theory, a very small quantity of developer in the pre-wash should get the development process underway which allows for slight better shadow detail without a dramatic increase of overall negative density.
Second, I cut my Selenium Toning from 9 minutes to 5 minutes, then further to 4 minutes 30 seconds, in order to reduce the effect of the toner on the highlights.
Amtrak station at Berlin, Connecticut, July 2012. Exposed with Leica M4 and f1.4 35mm Summilux on Fuji Acros 100; unmodified scan.
Using these final process modifications, I found that most of the resulting negatives made with the M4/Sumilux required virtually no post-processing and some were ready for display directly from the scanner. All of the photos displayed in this post were exposed and processed as described using the Leica M4 with 35mm Summilux lens with Fuji Across 100, and processed using the basic formula as illustrated. As always, I’ll probably continue to make adjustments to this formula as needed.
I’ve described myself as a ‘progressive obsoletist,’—an unfamiliar term that I may have invented. Invariably, someone will try to pigeon-hole me, demanding, “what is that?!”—as if the term wasn’t completely self-explanatory. Without a long-winded, half-cynical satirical diatribe, I doubt I could convey my definition of this obscure set of beliefs, however, in photographic terms I’ll offer a contemporary corollary based on recent experiments.
I’ve been dabbling with black & white photography for decades. I nearly perfected my technique when I was in college, only to virtually abandon black & white professionally in favor of color media. However, from time to time, I return to black & white, and with each visit try to further hone my process.
What does that mean? Well, first off, I always process my own film. Secondly, I’m very conscious of the processing method and formulas I hope to use while I’m making photographs. Thirdly, I’m always making small adjustments in my process in efforts to making more pleasing images.
The caveats to this process adjustment are that: 1) I’m never really satisfied with my results; 2) I never will be; and, 3) despite constant tinkering with formulas, my actual process is based on empirical analysis, rather than a strict, calculated scientific approach. I’m sure photo-chemists, when analyzing what I do, would decide that about half my process is unnecessary, and while on the whole it’s too complicated and could be better achieved in some alternative manner. But for me that’s not really the point. Making and developing the images are all part of the process, and this process involves converting what I see in three dimensions and full living color into a static, two dimensional, mono-chromatic set of images.
In January, 1998, TRAINS Magazine, I had a portfolio of photos published, and in that series, I described the spread with three monochromatic images as ‘One Thousand Shades of Gray’. Well, in light of some recent popular literature (not involving monochromatic images, so I am told), a similar title with fewer numbers of shades has stolen my thunder. Fair enough, but not really my point. With One Thousand Shades of Gray I was only trying to be clever, since proper black & white photography is more than just black and white but more about all the gray in between. And that’s largely what I’m after in my process refinement and adjustment — tonality and contrast. The machinery and landscape of the railroad are subjects ideally suited to this medium, while slight adjustments can make the difference between a fairly interesting railroad image and a truly memorable one.
Why not just convert modern digitally produced color files into monochromatic images? Good question. First of all, I’ve done that, both with my Lumix LX3 and my Canon 7D, and I’ve been happy with my results. Secondly, I don’t have any qualms about producing monochromatic images digitally. There are different tools for different type of images. There are times when a digital monochromatic image feels like the best choice, and there are times when color works better. (Generally, however, if I’m going to make a monochromatic image, I work with that medium on-site, rather than produce after the fact.)
So, why use film? The short answer is pretty selfish; because I want to! I like B&W photography, I like film, I’ve always worked with film, and continuing to work with film (at least part of the time) lends a certain continuity to my photography.
I have other reasons as well. I’ve found that using film, processed in accordance with my customized formula, and then scanned with a flatbed scanner, produces an image file that looks really pleasing to my eye. The combination of tonality (technically, “dynamic range”), acutance, and granularity when viewed on an iPad or computer screen looks great. This is the visual embodiment of progressive obsoletism!
Another reason is archival quality. And here I’ll dare tread on some sensitive toes. From my experience and understanding of the digital mediums, there are no sure-fire means of insuring long term digital storage without regular intervals of human intervention. In other words, if you don’t make multiple copies of your digital images, and continue to copy them, basic flaws in digital storage will probably result in the complete loss of your images within years or decades. My father, Richard J. Solomon, has illustrated this in the Center for Railroad Photography and Art’s annual Talks on Photography held at Lake Forest, Illinois, and in various articles. Simply, the very nature of the digital age tends toward the ephemeral use of data. While in the near term you can preserve your digital photos; long term, if a conscious effort isn’t made at continuing your storage, in all likelihood your images will completely vanish. (As anyone who has ever dropped a hard disk will sympathize.)
By contrast, my black & white process uses techniques that are known to produce negatives that should last for hundreds or thousands of years without regular intervention. So, barring disaster, long after all the hard drives have been wiped clean, the DVDs have faded into uselessness, and the software used to decipher today’s data has become more arcane than odd-dialects of ancient Sumerian, my black & white negatives should still be identifiable and usable as photographs.
Whether or not anyone cares in a hundred-plus years is another story. In my research for books and other photographic endeavors, I’ve often thought it ironic that 19th century glass plates will likely outlive virtually all the images being made today. I hope that I’m wrong. And, since I won’t be around in 100+ years, I’ll never know, but just in case I keep at black & white film photography, at least some of the time. And since I scan my negatives at high resolution, I’ll have most of the benefits of digital storage as well as that offered by traditional film. At least there’ll be some images of modern trains alongside the plates of Baldwin 2-8-0s.
In the last few months, I plunged into our collection of antique cameras and gone back to my roots. In my youth, I was always seen carrying a prewar Leica IIIa. With that I exposed countless railway photos, from Central Vermont GP9s and RS-11s crossing the diamond at Palmer, Massachusetts, to GG1s grinding into South Amboy, New Jersey, as well as views from Amtrak’s Coast Starlight negotiating SP’s Cuesta grade near San Luis Obispo, California. Remarkably, I still have this camera, or its near cousin (in truth, I think we had three different IIIa bodies in our house plus a postwar IIIc, and several later model Leica M’s). In my recent IIIa efforts, I employed my father’s Leica-screw-mount 21mm Super-Angulon (actually a Schneider lens design), and wandered around my old territory in New England exposing a few rolls of Fuji Acros 100. (I also recorded thousands of digital images as well)
Having earlier this year made modifications to my process (for a future post), I then souped the film, scanned it, and analyzed my results.
Pulling the film out of the tanks, I was immediately disappointed, but then, after scanning, I gradually came to accept and finally embraced my results. I’ve displayed a few here. Choice of subject matter was key to my choice of equipment and media. I largely photographed former Boston & Albany, Central Vermont, and Boston & Maine lines; the same railway lines I photographed as a kid—thus keeping with my theme of continuity. Earlier this year, I’d embarked on a similar project, photographing in Dublin, but using a different set of retro-equipment (another the topic for a future post).
Not only do these images offer an element of consistency working with photos from my archive, but I feel they also work well as stand-alone photographs. I have plenty of color digital images to satisfy commercial illustration requirements and my personal needs for instant image analysis (did I catch it? Was the light right? Did that cloud get in my way? Are my exposures tight?). But, I also have these satisfying monochromes, that may, so it seems, last for a virtual eternity. Coming soon, I’ll post the details of my exposures, technique, and chemical process. Stay tuned!
Conrail C30-7As drift eastward at milepost 131 near Middlefield, Massachusetts on March 23, 1986. Photo by Brian Solomon on Kodak 120 Verichrome Pan B&W film.
Recently I was searching for another and completely different image to illustrate a point for this essay when I accidentally came across the photograph above. It struck me that I’d fortuitously made the most of a common event. The date was March 23, 1986, and I was working one of my favorite sections of railroad: Washington Hill on the old Boston & Albany ‘Westend,’ at that time operated by Conrail. The section of the line between Chester and Becket, Massachusetts, is well-known for its scenery and difficult operations. As I’ve written elsewhere, this route was built as Massachusetts’ Western Rail Road, an extension of the 1830s Boston & Worcester, considered the ‘world’s first mainline mountain grade’ (built on the principles of wheel/rail adhesion, as opposed to the more peculiar methods of moving goods by rail over mountains, such as cable-hauled portage railways). Surveyed in the mid-1830s, Washington Hill was constructed between 1839 and 1840; the track pictured is on its original, unaltered Western Rail Road alignment—a relatively unusual situation for a line that old. My late friend Robert A. Buck gave me my first proper tour of the B&A Westend when I was a child, and I’ve been making regular trips to document this line, its operations, and its history for nearly 30 years.
On this particular day, as with many of my Westend trips, I had started out from Monson, Mass., before the dawn, and drove directly to the old station location at Middlefield (near the village of Bancroft, as Middlefield village itself is actually several miles to the north, on top of a hill). Bob Buck had first visited Middlefield 40 years earlier, and had the fortune to watch and photograph Boston & Albany’s magnificent A1 Berkshire-type steam locomotives at work on the grade. His photos and descriptions had inspired this day’s visit and my numerous other trips over the years.
Conrail had a habit of operating a fleet of eastward trains in the morning, and my first train of the day was eastward intermodal (piggyback) train symbol TV14X, running from Chicago to Boston. This passed the site of the old Middlefield station at 7:29 am, shortly after sunrise. Later that same morning, I positioned myself on the ‘shelf’ near milepost 131 (the distance from South Station, Boston), around the corner and upgrade from the old station. The month of March can be a good time to work this part of the railroad since the days are relatively long, the air tends to be clear, the trees are barren, and weeds and underbrush haven’t yet started to grow — all of which helps portray the lay of the land and display a railroad’s infrastructure at its finest. Although a favorite vantage point, this shelf at milepost 131 has a difficulty: the hill behind me and the trees growing on it tend to shadow the line until mid-morning, making traditional railroad photography difficult. By the time the sun hits the rail it has come around to almost a nose-lit angle, a condition that might trouble some ‘three-quarter’ purists.
The morning had started out clear and sunny, but by 10am high filtered clouds had begun to soften the light and bring a bluish hue that is poorly suited to Kodachrome (then my staple color film), but is well suited to black & white photography. In the distance I’d heard a hint of a train drifting downgrade and got myself in position. Having put my slide camera away (at the time I was using an antique 35mm Leica IIIa with a Summitar 50mm lens), I instead opted for a black & white image of the eastbound train.
Eastward trains could easily sneak up on you at milepost 131 since the roaring water of the West Branch of the Westfield River tended to mute all other sounds. Yet, a keen ear might pick up the distant whistle when a train blew for Lower Valley Road in Becket, several miles to the west. Also, heavy eastward trains could be heard from the sound of their engines’ dynamic brakes howling, and the squeal of the wheels as the trains negotiated B&A’s tight curves—but such was not the case this morning.
I’d been studying the work of New York Central’s company photographer, Ed Novak, who had recently published a book of his black & white photos, most of which were made in the 1940s and 1950s. The text revealed that Novak used a Rolleiflex, a twin-lens reflex, with 120 Kodak Verichrome-Pan black & white film. (‘Verichrome-Pan’ inferred that the emulsion was ‘panchromatic’, meaning sensitive to all colors. Today we might assume this characteristic of all sensitive media, film and digital sensors, but until commercial development of panchromatic emulsions, most available black & white products suffered from limited spectral-sensitivity; in other words, they didn’t respond well to all colors, and lacked sensitivity to certain elements of the spectrum. Although panchromatic products date to the early years of the twentieth century, popular use panchromatic films didn’t predominate until the 1940s. If you ever wondered why many steam era photos appear to have been made on cloudy days, this is because typical orthochromatic emulsions of the period were overly sensitive to the blue spectrum and thus tended to render blue skies as white.)
Inspired by Novak’s commercial images of New York Central Mohawks, E7s, and other classic locomotives, I made regular use of my father’s Rollei Model T (which he purchased new in Düsseldorf, Germany, in 1960) loaded with 120 Verichrome. While an excellent film in some regards, Verichrome was limited by modern standards, and my choice of cameras and film was antique (if not obsolete) even by 1986. I think many B&W photographers of the time would have preferred either Kodak Tri-X (rated at 400 ISO) or Kodak Plus-X (rated at 125 ISO), and probably using a yellow filter to compensate for films that remained over-sensitive to blue. However, among the advantages of Verichrome was its exceptionally fine grain, a quality that when combined with the Rollei T’s f3.5 Zeiss Tessar lens lent to exceptionally sharp images.
At that time, Verichrome was nominally rated by Kodak at 125 ISO, however I’d found through experimentation that more pleasing results were afforded when I rated the film at 80 ISO and processed it with Kodak D76 mixed 1:1 with water. My preference was to slightly over-expose film (by giving it more light) and then slightly under-process (shortening the process time) which created a broader tonal range while avoiding blocking up the highlight areas and minimizing build up of grain. Key to my processing technique was in the extremely gentle agitation of the tanks and tight temperature control (usually within one degree from pre-wash to final wash). I was studying photography at the time I made this image, and so was acutely aware of my intended processing at the time of exposure.
The Rollei offered few crutches to the inexperienced photographer. Not only was this a fully manual camera without battery or automatic functions, but it had no meter. To calculate exposure, I carried a pocket size handheld meter, and then refined my settings based on experience and detailed notes.
Note the rectangular format; as presented this image is full-frame and un-cropped. As a student with limited means, I tended to take advantage of the Rollei Model T’s ‘super slide’ insert, which allowed for approximately a 645 negative size and gave 16 rectangular frames per roll rather than a dozen 2¼ inch square frames. (Later, I came to prefer the aesthetic qualities of the square and made almost exclusive use of that format with the Rollei.)
The train heard in the distance was soon upon me, and, following moments of anticipation and hasty preparation, at 10:25am the ‘train’ came into view. I was immediately disappointed! It really wasn’t really a ‘train’ at all, but just a set of light engines running east from Selkirk Yard! (In 1986, Conrail didn’t assign helper engines to the B&A, yet light power moves were a common means for balancing traffic and positioning locomotives and crews.) Sure, locomotives are better than nothing at all, but I’d really hoped for a long train trailing behind the locomotives—making it a revenue move, which is what I’d come to expect. However, despite this letdown, I persevered and exposed a single frame anyway! I’ve always maintained a philosophy of photographing anything and everything that passes over the railroad and making the most of every opportunity. There’s a lesson here: I know many railway photographers who would have put their cameras down on the sight of a light power-set ‘to save film.’ Where’s the savings? If you fail to make a photo, not only won’t you have it to enjoy later, but you might be plagued with a nagging ‘what if’ sensation that follows you like an unwelcome cloud. Remember: subjects so common today as to seem unworthy of a photo will be history tomorrow. Case in point: 25 years earlier my father was near Paoli on the Pennsylvania Railroad’s ‘Main Line’. A set of light engines and caboose passed him and he made two photos (with the very same Rolleiflex) — one coming and one going. Just a pair of diesels, probably hardly worth the price of film. More than 30 years passed before those negatives were printed. The mere diesels of that day turned out to be a rare set of Baldwin centipedes, now considered among the most unusual diesels ever built.
Lets get back to the photo on March 23, 1986. Key to my location is the old B&A ‘tombstone’ milepost at the left. I’d positioned myself to feature this landmark, and carefully waited until the locomotives were near it, but not so close as to obscure it. Not only did milepost 131 hark back to New York Central days, but it identifies the location: there’s only one milepost 131 on the B&A route in the Berkshires. The milepost and hills, while important, are incidental to the primary subject, the locomotives, which as it happens, are now among my favorite diesels. These are General Electric C30-7As, a model built only for Conrail and delivered in summer 1984. But in 1986 these were standard motive-power assigned to the B&A route, and by no means unusual or noteworthy. In fact most of the trains I photographed that day were operated with C30-7As. This three-unit light power set was recorded as Conrail C30-7As 6567, 6553, and C32-8 6616 (just in case anyone needs to know). From an aesthical point of view, this light power set was precisely long enough to add railway interest without obscuring the subtle sinuosity of track in the distance, key to the railroad’s history. It’s just a small point, but that S-bend beyond the engines helps reveal the line’s graded quality and the twisty nature of the B&A route. Had this been Conrail’s SEPW (Selkirk to Providence & Worcester), that typically operated about this time, the freight cars would have blocked the view of the tracks and thus probably resulting in a less interesting image. Although disappointed at the time, I was lucky to have had such a perfect length of train, and in the end this disappointment proved to be an advantage!
As an aside, take note of the twin-head block signal on the westward main track. This another subtle element of interest that has a bit of history behind it: two years after this photo was exposed Conrail re-signaled the B&A Westend using a modern system of cab signals that obviated the need for way-side intermediate block signals such this one. All the New York Central-era searchlights were taken down. This style of signal had replaced upper quadrant semaphores after World War II. After B&A’s re-signaling the only line-side signals were modern color lights at dispatcher-controlled interlockings (junctions, ends of sidings, and crossovers, all known as ‘control points’). Yet, the base of this signal survives to mark its location, leaving a reminder of the traditional signals. Interestingly, the intermediate block signals on Washington Hill were continuously lit, while intermediate signals elsewhere on the B&A tended to be approach-lit. I mention this because in the photo the signal displays green-over-red (clear) even though the next westbound was a good distance away; it wouldn’t pass until 2:24pm, almost four hours after I made this image. If this signal had been approach-lit, a train would have been in the circuit and thus very close at hand; just a minor observation, but one worth noting.
So there we have it! A lot of background for a photo that disappointed me at the time, and one I might have neglected to expose. One last caveat: I kept detailed notes of my photography, in part to assist with processing, but also to aid with captioning photos later. Bob Buck was a stickler for providing detailed captions and I learned from his example. By taking notes and making captions, I have an excellent record of what, when, and where, as well as how I made my photos. In case you were wondering, I exposed this photograph between f5.6 and f8 at 1/500 second.
