The Organ – Arches National Park, Moab, Utah

It had been a long time since I had been to Moab, even though I only live 5-6 hours away. This year photographer friend of mine and I decided to take our annual photo road trip to the Moab area. Our trip was a mix of photography and just plain relaxing. It was also a sort of trial run for me acting as instructor, teaching a one-on-one wet plate collodion landscape photography workshop. Judging by the plate John made, I feel I must have done fairly well. He even left Colorado wanting to order some wet plate chemistry and start making plates himself. It is a beautiful process, and can be addicting.

It was my first time shooting wet plate in the desert, and the heat, dryness and fine red sand added to the challenge. The collodion thickened quickly, and the plates dried a bit faster than I was used to. The red sand, well that mostly just showed up in the fix and wash trays, but on a windy day it would go everywhere.

The photo above was the first plate I shot in Arches. It was still fairly early in the day, but it was getting hot. The camera was set up down in a wash maybe 75-100 feet away my truck and darkbox. On the first plate, I took my time, but upon pouring the developer I noticed that the plate was drying out in spots causing the developer to not flow evenly. I shot a second plate and moved a little faster, and luckily got the image that you see above.

For this shot, we were set up on a little pull-off which ended up attracting more tourists than we expected. It was interesting to watch people speed into the spot and slide to a stop in the dirt and gravel. Well, actually it was annoying that they did that! One car stopped, with care, and they got out and took photos, while checking out what we were doing. While most people who stopped checked us out, only this group came by and asked what kind of photography we were doing. The two older gentlemen chatted with us and asked if they could photograph me working with the process. I believe they said they were from the Netherlands, and part of a camera club back there. They seemed like very cool guys, and sincerely interested in the photographic process. I enjoyed telling them about the process and letting them watch my first plate clearing in the fixer. It was interesting that of the dozen or so people who stopped while we were shooting, they were the only ones to talk with us. The American tourists mostly stopped, took photos, and sped off, perhaps with a quick hello and a curious eye towards our setup. Oh well, it would’ve been impossible to talk with everyone anyhow. And the guys we did chat with made for a nice brief connection.

We spent the day in Arches, had lunch under some trees, and later found a campsite just outside of the park away from the hoards of people. It was a great out-of-the-way spot, and a nice spot to work on some more wet plate images. The heat was worse, even at 7pm, and the collodion was pouring terribly and needed to be thinned down with more alcohol. I wasn’t sure how much to add, so I just added a capful at a time until I could pour a plate without it thickening halfway through. Pouring quarterplates was a bit easier, but the 8×10 plates were a challenge. At one point I was having so many problems that I called it a day, put the photo stuff away, opened a cold beer and started to make dinner.

Over the next few days we journeyed to Canyonlands (the photo above), and then up into the LaSal mountains. The dryness and heat continued to make shooting wet plate a bit challenging. Many of my plates ended up with black spots from where the collodion didn’t flow properly, or spots from where the developer didn’t flow across the plate evenly. In a few plates those imperfections worked with the image, but on many they ruined the image. Out of about twelve plates, I think I have three that I really like. I guess that is pretty good.

The desert is a great place to photograph, and wet plate can be quite stunning, but the climate can also make it very challenging.

Untold Stories: Vessel of Lost Dreams, No. 2 – quarter plate black glass ambrotype. My shot for World Wet Plate Day 2013.

The forecast calls for snow again next week, back to the cycle of seventy degree weather interrupted by cold and snow. Spring in Colorado. But I can’t complain, the winters down in the city are far more easier than the winters I had spent in my mountain cabin in Eldora. Nevertheless, when the weather breaks, I get the urge to head to the mountains with my camera.

I’ve been leaving my darkbox (the portable darkroom for wet plate collodion photography) in my truck, and have everything else ready to go a moment’s notice. My 8″ x 10″ camera, tripod, cooler filled with my wet plate chemistry and various items, gallon jugs of water, and an empty jug for the waste water. When the timing feels right to go photograph, I just toss that in the truck, and grab a pack with some warm clothes, a bit of food, some drinking water, kiss my lovely wife goodbye, and off I go.

When I got up this morning I had planned on making some salt prints, but the sun wasn’t right so I decided to go do some wet plate photography in the mountains. More and more an overcast sky seems to be my preferred light for much of my landscape photography. The softer quality of light helps me convey a dreamlike feel which I like in my photos.

I decided to head to my usual spot in the early morning shadows of Kataka Mountain. What draws me here, I can’t really say. Perhaps it is a certain solitude and a more intimate view of nature, if you can see it. While most landscape photographers would be higher up at Mount Bierstadt or Mount Evans seeking grander vistas, I usually prefer the quiet intimacy of the modest vistas. Trees, rocks, small streams, all of modest beauty devoid of the “look at me!” presence of the greater mountain peaks nearby. Besides, in the summer months there are a hell of a lot less people where I go!

On the hour or so drive to the spot the weather ranged from grey, to sunny, to snow squalls, to mix of all three. Pulling off the highway onto the road to the pass, the light was feeling just right for my photos. I took my time heading up the dirt road past the few houses at the beginning, up past the few picnic areas, up to quieter areas less travelled. Summer weekends can be fairly busy on the road with the tourists making the mountain loop, but midweek or off-season is generally pretty quiet. Just how I like it.

Every so often I pull over, get out and walk around an area to see what calls out to me. The first spot today was an area that ended up being a shooting range of sorts as well as a camping area. Strange mix if you ask me. The area was littered with blasted clay pigeons, beer can targets in the bushes, and broken bottles mixed in with randomly placed fire pits. I get target practice, I don’t get smashing beer bottles, especially where you set up camp. I can only imagine how these people live at home. And home is where they should stay if they can’t clean up after themselves. Onward to a more pristine spot not yet polluted by some so called nature lovers and outdoorsmen.

I drove to a higher point near an empty campground and got out and walked around. The air was crisp, scented with the smell of spring in the mountains. Pine, moisture, the gentle decay of plant matter in the undergrowth. Ahh, what an amazing smell! I truly feel alive standing in the solitude of the wild breathing in fresh mountain air. One deep breath is all it takes to bring me into the present moment, free of thoughts and worries of past and future, just here, right now.

With a mind free of preconceived notions I walk through the trees, over rock, up hills, just seeing. Just being. My photos usually come from meditative walks like this. Sure, I start off with a goal to make a photograph but the more meaningful part for me is clearing my head in nature. And while I always see beauty in the wild, the right scene for a photo doesn’t always call out to me, and that is okay too.

The wind was picking up, and with it snow, so I headed back down the mountain to find a new spot to walk. After checking out a couple spots, I settled on one and spent some time walking around and stopping to see scenes more deeply. I think I saw the photo I wanted to take, so I went back to the truck to set up my wet plate gear. The interesting thing about photographing with large format cameras is that you can spend a bunch of time setting up a shot, and then not taking a single photo. Today was no exception. The shot I set up just wasn’t calling out to me as I thought it might. Time to look for something else. I turned to grab the camera and tripod and was instantly intrigued with the scene behind me. A lone pine tree with some boulders around it, beyond it an opening in the trees leading to what felt like a place in a dream. I set the camera up and composed the shot it felt right, although I was wishing the opening beyond the tree was a little less bright.

As I started to pour collodion on an 8×10 plate, it began to snow. The whole process of getting a wet plate ready to shoot takes a few minutes and during that time the intensity of the snow increased. While the plate was in the silver tank I headed back to my camera to cover it with the dark cloth. The snow was already piling up on the black fabric. On some days a drastic change in the weather could have annoyed me, but not today.  It was what it was, and kind of neat at that. When my plate was ready, I stuck my head in the darkbox, loaded the plate into the holder, then headed back to the camera to make the exposure. The snow was coming down hard, the quality of light completely different from when I set up the shot. “Lets see, f32 at 38 seconds feels right.” I make my exposure, laughing at the snow that was coming down even harder, and then head back to develop the plate. Back into the darkbox to develop, and then outside to where my tray of fixer was. My processing trays outdoors were quickly filling with snow, a funny sight when you think about the temperature control in darkrooms.

I had a big smile on my face as the plate developed out, and a bigger smile when the plate became a positive in the fixer. The heavy snow added so much to the image. The area where the opening was became toned down and gave it an even more dreamlike feel than I first imagined. Yet the main scene didn’t seem affected by the snow and retained the contrast and detail I wanted. I couldn’t ask for anything more! (Well, my silver tank was low and I ended up with a black band on the bottom of the image, but even that didn’t bother me.)

There were a couple other photos I wanted to make but I decided to tear down since the snow seemed to be getting worse. As soon as I had my truck packed up, the sun came back out and the snow stopped! I just laughed and drove off since my silver tank was low anyhow. Besides, I was happy with the one nice plate I had made, and the happy with my time spent in the wild.

In the Forest is the first wet plate landscape image I made with my home-made 8×10 camera, and I’m rather pleased with the results. This is a clear glass ambrotype (CGA), which is a wet plate collodion positive on clear glass, which then needs to be backed with black in order to view it as a positive image.

I am offering 20% off all matted 5×7 and 5×5 prints from my 2012 art fair season. $20 each, or five for $95 (plus $4.50 shipping.) The 5×7 images are matted to 8×10, and the 5×5 images are matted to 8×8. Both are ready for framing! You can use standard frames such as those found at Ikea, Pottery Barn, Hobby Lobby, Michael’s and more.

The B&W prints are printed using Carbon inks which provide a true black and white print with a warm tone. I use a high quality archival fine art paper for all of my prints, and mat them in acid-free mats.

I’m currently offering my sale prints through my Etsy store, https://www.etsy.com/shop/interrobangart I will be adding prints daily until my entire inventory of smaller prints is added to the store, so check back for new images!

Check out my short story about my home-made large format wet plate camera on F295.org.

Meditations on Dying is a new series which evolved on its own as I spent time in nature, clearing my head, as my dad was dying in February of this year (2013). The frigid Wisconsin weather forced me to do more of a walking meditation instead of just sitting in nature as I often do. These walking meditations brought me these images. Images that I know my dad would have loved, and been proud of. After I had taken a dozen or so images, I realized that I was wishing he would be able to see these photos, and that is when I decided to create this series, in memory of him.

My dad (and mom) always encouraged and supported my creativity. Both of them got me into drawing by age 8 or so, and later bought me a camera. That old Minolta 35mm started it all! After high school, I was working as an auto mechanic, and figured that would be my career. My dad heard of a fine art photography school in Milwaukee, and asked me if I would be interested in that. I was honored to realize that he felt learning fine art photography was perhaps a better path for me. While he may not have said it directly, he had a lot of faith in me, and in my art. He saw that I loved being creative, and he never did anything to destroy that. He also never pushed me to do anything I didn’t want. He’d share ideas, listen to mine, and be supportive and understanding as was needed. His positive outlook was always on the lines of “I think you’d enjoy doing that, why not give it a try? If it doesn’t work out, you can always try something else.”

I couldn’t be more grateful for his support, and faith in me and my photography. I’m glad that during this past year, he was able to see me start focusing on my art photography 100%. (Thanks to my wonderful wife, Jessica, for her support and faith in me too!) Every time he & I talked over this past year, it seemed I had a new art festival, or gallery opening that I was accepted into. Aside from the excitement in his voice, I could hear that he was proud that I was on my art photography path again. After he passed away, my mom also mentioned that he was so happy to see me doing my art photography again.

About the images

On my trip back to Wisconsin, I only brought my Lumix G1 and had my iPhone as well. While I began photographing with my Lumix, a few images from the iPhone with the Hipstamatic Tintype app made me realize that is the look that fit my mood. I think that even if I did have my real wet plate gear with me, the experience would not have been the same for me. The ease of using the iPhone during my walking meditation was key. Setting up a real camera and working through the entire wet plate process would’ve completely detracted from my main goal of being in quiet contemplation. Meditating on the fact that my dad was dying was the main thing for me. The photos in this series are, for me, an extension of the sadness, beauty, and gratitude I was feeling. A way of expressing myself visually since words elude me.

My goal with this series is to make enlarged digital negatives from which I will make contact prints using a historic process such as salt printing, albumen printing, or something similar. The prints will be done in small editions, and possibly some one of a kind prints. I also plan to produce a book of the images once the printed series is completed.

Below are a portion of the images from this series.

In Memory of Bob Sincock 1938-2013

This is my first test shot with my home-made sliding box camera and my new (antique) 10″ rapid rectilinear brass lens. It is an 8×10 clear glass ambrotype. I’m also trying Old Workhorse collodion for the first time and so far I like what I see. If I still have enough of Quinn’s New Guy collodion, I’d like to try a side-by-side comparison.

I’m happy to announce that prints of three of my wet plate collodion photographs have been chosen to be in the Time Capsule Photo Show at Core New Art Space in Denver, March 7-24 2013. You can find out more info about the show, and the gallery location on their site: http://corenewartspace.com/time-capsule/ Check it out!

Last summer I made a sliding box camera, first from a cardboard box, and then a more refined one from black foamcore. This week I started on a wooden version. This design follows the design in Alan Greene’s “Primitive Photography” book, and is an 8×10 camera. I’ll also be making the film holder based on his design, but modified for wet plate collodion. (His design is for calotype.)

So far this project has been fairly easy. It requires only basic hand tools, and uses square dowel material, and thin plywood. The only issue I’ve run into is that the square dowels tend to not be perfect and some have a bend to them, or size variations. While I tried to pick out the straightest pieces, a few still had curved pieces which lend to my boxes not being perfectly square. Today I’ll be making the inner box which connects the two shown above, so we’ll see how much the lack of perfect squareness effects things. At some point I intend on building a sliding box camera from some very nice pieces of wood, and probably based more on an actual historic design.

While this won’t be a camera for hiking in to remote wilderness areas, I do intend on using it for some of my landscape work. There are many areas easily accessible by vehicle, or even a mountain bike with a bike trailer.

I’ll post more photos of the completed camera, and photos taken with it once it is finished.