16 frames per second

My grandfather (on my mother’s side) was probably the earliest influence for my budding interest in film. He did not do anything intentionally to motivate me, but some of my earliest memories include his hovering around the rest of the family with a home movie camera. Years later, after he died, I was given his movie camera; my family figured out I’d probably be the only one with any use or interest in it.

I had no idea what kind of film this camera took, or really if it still worked after 40 years. Thankfully, some online sleuthing led me to the fantastic folks at the Film Photography Project. There I learned the camera used something called 8mm magazine film; sort of like Super 8 on steroids.Taking advantage of their film / process / scan service bundle, I decided to roll the dice and shoot a cartridge of film to see if the camera still worked. Lo and behold…it did!

My interest in moving images has blossomed over the past couple of years. I’ve been working with public domain footage and actual 16mm educational films to create new work via collage and re-photgraphy. The chance to shoot actual movie film myself seemed the logical next step. I’ve long been drawn to the film work of Robert Frank, and I particularly loved how he would print collages from his strips of movie footage. I have the luxury of doing my post-production work digitally, with Photoshop and Lightroom being my main conduits for manipulating and assembling my collages.

By picking and choosing which frames I want to use, I am able to juxtapose the 16 frames per second to provide ample “moments” to cull and combine with other frames. These images then get stacked into (currently) quadrants that I hope make some kind of connection for the viewer. The certainly keep me engaged and curious about what might emerge when you release one single image from it’s sequence and force it to work in another context. In essence, I am forcing moving images to act more like still photography. A challenge and a game of chance that I have thus far been intrigued by and motivated to do more of.

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Blue Line Swinger: a short film

I took a trip to Marfa, Texas back in March. It is one of my favorite places to visit. There is something about the wide open spaces of the high desert of West Texas, mixed with the artistic, bohemian vibe that speaks to me. I am comfortable there. I popped a hit of sunshine and wandered the empty streets as the sun started its descent to the western horizon. This film was shot on my grandfather's old 8mm magazine camera. It was basically a test roll to see if it still worked. Lo and behold... Music by Yo La Tengo, used with only the utmost honor and respect.

The Allure of the Film Aesthetic

For as long as I have loved photography, there has always been something extra special about film. Not just the process of shooting film, instead, something more elemental. Very simply, I like the “look” of film. I like the frame borders, the sprocket holes, the type and numbers along the edges, the grain, the eventual scratches and fingerprints. The film aesthetic is something I play with in my work. I like to exaggerate the unique characteristics of film, especially pushing grain and contrast beyond the limits of acceptability. As I’ve ventured further away from straight photography, it is the intrinsic visual look of film that keeps me grounded in the medium. I have recently been exposing film in a motion picture camera, then utilizing the multiple frames as an opportunity to tell a different kind of story; short narratives through a sequence of images. I really enjoy making the choice of which frames to highlight from a longer strip of film. This attraction has now led to me sourcing 16mm film reels from Ebay. One reel was in pretty bad shape when it arrived this week. Warped, scratched and moldy; yet intact enough to allow me to play freely with the footage. So much to discover and ponder on this film. The anonymous, family home movie reel shows various locations; most likely highlights of a family vacation. The frames feature men and women in dress that looks like it is from the 1930s or 1940s. I wonder, who are these people? They are surely dead by now. How did this random reel of film travel from its original owner, through years of storage and neglect, to wind up for sale online in 2023, and somehow appearing in front of me under such randomly stumbled upon circumstances? I guess my attraction to the film aesthetic has created yet another divergent path for me to wander down. What discoveries await?

2021:50 Koudelka Shooting Holy Land

There is no shortage of videos on YouTube that feature photographers out in the world, taking pictures. Many…too many… feature young, hipsters shooting film. These videos are one of the reasons that the aftermarket for old, analogue cameras has exploded over the past few years. What was once old equipment that no one wanted is now commanding ridiculous prices on Ebay. If there is a new YouTube video released featuring an up-until-then obscure camera, the price immediately starts creeping up. But the curmudgeon in me has to also tip my hat to these neophytes, since they are truly the ones keeping film photography off of life support.

I prefer my vicarious photo shooting viewing to be centered on masters of the medium. There is one film in particular that I’ve been wanting to see for some time. The movie is called Koudelka Shooting Holy Land. I’ve been waiting to see if it would pop up somewhere for free, but alas, I finally caved and dropped 10 bucks to stream it at home. Was it worth it? Absolutely. It is an often quiet meditation on the challenges of finding inspiring subject matter, and approaching it with a critical, yet compassionate eye. Koudelka shot the areas in Israel that are the meeting points between Palestinian lands and Jewish settlements. The photos resulted in an amazing book from a few years back that I’ve written about previously, titled Wall. It was a joy to watch him wander through environments that at one turn were mundane, and at another, quite tense. Koudelka navigates it all with a world weary resignation that I found charming and inspiring.

Some of the most compelling moments in the film occur when Koudelka navigates the hyper-security measures in place at border crossings and checkpoints. For a photographer who first came to prominence documenting the Soviet invasion of his native Czechoslovakia in 1968, he is no stranger to working in challenging situations. Yet most of Koudelka’s interactions with the authorities amount to mostly gruff but docile harassment from military people who are more concerned with threats of violence and not an old man with a panoramic camera. Still, hearing a voice shout from a watchtower as he sets up a few of his shots is enough to give me concern for his safety. Yet Koudelka slowly, deliberately continues his work, unfazed and unintimidated by the powers that keep watch over a complicated mix of politics and differences in faith, all while adding to the tension and division that the photographer himself is quietly, critically assessing. If you get the chance, spend the 10 dollars and watch a master at work.