Another G.A.S. Attack!

The potential antidote to G.A.S.?



It's actually been a while since I used the little G5. And now I remember: the mechanical shutter no longer works; I have to set it to electronic shutter only. So the ISO is limited to 1600 (because of electronic shutter only). Okay for brighter conditions, but I can't get good images under dim indoor light.

The 7Artisans 25mm F/1.8 lens is pretty okay. It's manual focus only and has a stepless aperture ring, with a round-shaped aperture at all stop settings; nice images. At 25mm on this camera format it has the angle of view of a "nifty 50" prime lens. But it ain't no "pancake" lens; part of the price for a fast aperture. I do have the 14mm F/2.5 and 20mm F/1.9 Lumix pancake lenses. The 14 ain't bad, but at F/2.5 not all that fast. And the 20 renders really nice, and is fast optically, but the autofocus is a dog. There's also the little Olympus 15mm F/8 bodycap lens, kind of a curiosity. Not great optical quality (the lens is plastic), and at F/8 requires bright light to work well. But it makes for a quick point-and-shoot camera, having a hyperfocal setting for the F/8 aperture.

None of these options are ideal. But they're paid for. And I'd still need to get that oh-so-fashionable fanny pack, to make this camera work for me. Looking forward to that!

These cameras have a limited lifespan. Heck, so do all cameras. My 1980s-vintage Minolta X700 has capacitor issues, so these problems aren't limited to just digital technology. Maybe it's like owning cars: fix them until they're not fixable, or not affordable to fix, then get another one. Hence the G.A.S. attack over the little Ricoh GR3. But dang, it seems they're a hot item these days, and forking over $900 for a new one begins to sound like real money.

But then a person, when in the throes of a G.A.S. attack, needs to do some serious cost/benefit analysis. As I wrote, I have several very compact film cameras that would fit the bill nicely. Like the Yashica T4 Super, or the Minox GT-E. Both very pocketable. But let's consider the bill for film, developing and scanning, say 36 exposure rolls. Say color film, like Kodak Portra 160. I can get a 5-pack for about $48, from B & H Photo. That's about $9.60 per roll. Then processing at my local lab costs $6, plus high-resolution scanning (equivalent to a 20+ megapixel camera) costs $24. That's $39.60 plus tax for 36 images. That's over a dollar a shot. This doesn't even include the cost of 4x6 prints; I'm trying to keep this equivalent to what it'd cost me to shoot digital.

How long would it take me to shoot, say, 900 images on film? I don't know, it depends. But I've been known to shoot dozens and dozens during an important event like a family gathering. So in just a few months I could see myself forking out over $900 in film expenses, enough to pay for that Ricoh GR3. And with the GR3, like any digital camera, the cost per shot depreciates rapidly over time; the more you shoot, the cheaper each shot gets, since the expenses are all up-front.

Part of the calculus of a G.A.S. attack is comparing film versus digital. Keep in mind I'm in the market for a pocketable camera with better image quality than my cell phone. Those small film cameras, that I already own, would offer the image quality I want, but at the cost of a continued increase in expenses per shot. And that's assuming the cost of film and processing doesn't continue to increase over time (which it most likely will).

Also, this isn't really about the philosophy of being a film aficionado. I love film and film cameras. Heck, I still maintain a working black-and-white darkroom. But my particular set of requirements are expensive to maintain with film. Plus, the immmediacy of digital imaging is an advantage hard to ignore.

Time marches on. Yes, it'd be a romantic idea to hand-crank that Ford Model A roadster to life, after setting the choke and spark advance. But you wouldn't want to commute to work in it every day.

We shall see where this G.A.S. attack leads. Hopefully it leads to me being more creative with photography, whatever I choose, for that is the end goal I'm keeping in mind. The tools required to do so are merely a necessity, nothing more, no use getting hung up over them. At least, I keep telling myself that, as I scratch that G.A.S. attack itch.

Typecast via Groma Kolibri.

Post-Script: I should mention that for a period of about a decade I documented parts of Albuquerque with a compact digital camera, that resulted in several self-published photo books. You can find them here. That phase of my life seems to be over, at least for now, but part of the reason is the city has changed; and then the COVID pandemic hit. I'd like to once again begin a period of being a documentary photographer, and a compact, high-quality camera tool would be a necessity.

Peroxide Reversal Prints, or The Infinite Joe Series

The Selfie Setup

I've been a photography loner for decades. Meaning that I've worked in relative isolation, as I've cobbled together box cameras from cardboard, foam board and scraps of wood; or tinkered with using print paper as an in-camera film; or, lately, trying to perfect the hydrogen peroxide / citric acid reversal process, which promises an almost straight-out-of-camera finished print -- after some processing, of course. Think wet Polaroid.

But it's not exactly correct that I've been working in isolation these last several years, because I've teamed up with fellow Burqueno Ethan Moses (transplanted from Brooklyn), to work on camera-making projects and, more recently, the peroxide reversal process.

One of the benefits of having a partner is that no two people see things the same way. What one person perceives one way, the other see it differently. That's a good thing when you're tinkering with new photographic processes. You need an atmosphere of experimentation, even a bit of confusion or turmoil.

As an aside, many significant discoveries in science and engineering happened because someone was working on some process, or idea, and things didn't go as planned, and some new discovery was found, by accident. Take flash memory for example. It happened by accident, someone misprocessed a lot of silicon memory chips and they ended up getting extra layers deposited in the transistor's gate structure, which created the floating gate, where data can be stored as nonvolatile electric charges. If that operator hadn't goofed and misprocessed, perhaps we wouldn't have flash memory; or it would have taken longer to develop. Were they repromanded, or even terminated, for their goof, I wonder? And what would have happened if that chip factory had perfected their manufacturing process such that no mistakes could be made? Yes, they could have engineered out all unpredictable process deviations, but at the price of no new discoveries.

When you're tinkering with making a process better, you have to walk that razor's thin edge between consistency and planned deviation. But your exploration of alternative process methods is only as good as your mental model of how the thing works in the first place. And sometimes you don't really know how it works, you're working blind, groping in the dark.

This is how Ethan and I felt at times, these last few years, as we've toyed with the citric acid / hydrogen peroxide reversal process for black & white paper. We, both of us, aren't chemists, or educated in advanced photographic processes. We're tinkerers mainly, though Ethan's a bit more educated than I. And so, we don't exactly understand how the process works, except it involves using the citric acid to ionize metallic silver molecules, so they can be selectively dissolved by the peroxide.

When I first read of this process on APUG, a few years ago, people were mixing the citric acid and peroxide as one solution. Then we hit on the idea of separating out the chemicals as discrete steps, but we'd go back and forth between the two in multiple passes, before the negative image could be completely bleached out. There was also experiments around which to do first, the acid or the peroxide.

More recently, Ethan has hit on the idea of using a longer processing time in a stronger solution of citric acid, to more fully saturate the emulsion, before exposing it to the peroxide. And it seems to work better, at least when we were doing the large 20 inch by 24 inch prints in Ethan's recently complete mega-sized camera. But I wanted to try it myself.


Ethan's mega-sized camera prototype.

During our many experiments with these processes someone has to sit and pose for the pictures, since we're hoping to be using these processes for portraits. And so it's usually happened that I sit and pose. And thus we've built up a good collection of Joe pictures in all our many experiments, enough such that Ethan has taken to calling it the Infinite Joe Series. I kind of like the ring to that name.

So today I wanted to try and replicate the success that Ethan has had, but I had to figure out how to pose and focus the view camera on myself. The result is seen in the top photo, a length of paracord, one end tied to the camera, the other attached to a cardboard focusing aid, with knots in the cord for adjusting the posing distance. The way this works is to tape the end of a yardstick to the focusing target, then stretch it out in front of the camera lens and focus the camera upon the target, as you stand behind the camera. Then, when I seat myself in front of the camera, I can stretch the string tight and place it adjacent to my eyes, to ensure critical focus. Once set, I carefully lower my arm and trip the camera shutter with a release cable.

I wanted to be consistent with my process, to eliminate sources of foul-ups, like the brown or yellow staining we've sometimes seen, that can arise unexpectedly. But I also had the problem that I was out of fresh paper developer, so today I ended up using some Afga Rodinol film developer, in a stronger concentration than what you'd normally use for film.

Here's a shot of my processing setup in my darkroom. I've used these little 3-drawer cube stacks for a long time, as a way to reduce clutter and make the setup more compact.



I'll explain the chemicals in each drawer and the order in which they were used, along with processing times.

The paper (Arista-brand, from Freestyle Photo, grade 2 RC paper, semi-matte finish) was rated at ISO 3.

1. Upper left drawer: Developer. Agfa Rodinol diluted 75mL into 325 mL water (about 1:4.33). 1 minute 30 seconds processing under red safelights, intermittent agitation.
2: Upper right drawer: Water, 30 seconds rinse under red safelights, intermittent agitation.
3: Middle left drawer: Citric acid, mixed 2 heaping teaspoons to 300mL water. 3 minutes processing under red safelights, intermittent agitation. Turn on white light at end of this step.
4: Middle right drawer: 35% food-grade hydrogen peroxide. 2-3 minutes processing under white light, continuous agitation, or until the image is fully bleached to white.
5: Transfer print to a water wash tray via tongs (not shown), 30 seconds rinse under white light, continuous agitation.
6: Lower left drawer: Heico Permawash, used straight (no dilution), processed for 1 minute 30 seconds under white light, intermittent agitation.
7: Lower right drawer: Water, 30 second rinse under white light, continuous agitation.
8: Upper left tray: Developer (Agfa Rodinol), quick, even immersion, continuous agitation for 1 minute 30 seconds, under white light. The positive image will almost immediately come up.

Here's the first print I made today, the exposure was 1 second at F/5.6:

This cell phone snap of the print doesn't do it justice, it's very sharp with excellent tones. The streaks on the right are shadows on my shed behind me from the morning light.

I rotated the back on the Intrepid 4x5 to make a portrait-oriented image, but the morning light was getting brighter as I made this second exposure, which was also at F/5.6 for 1 second (a bit too much exposure):

I still like the look of this, there's a luminance in my eyes.

For this third print I reduced the exposure to F/5.6 at 1/2 second:

I like this one a lot.

These last two shots I had moved the camera out of the sun, so I have the door frame of my shed behind me. Here I've tried to angle my head a bit, and focused between my eyes. It should have been stopped down to F/8 for more depth of focus:


Overall I was pleased with the consistency of these images, aside from my over-exposure in the second print. I didn't see any of the brown or yellow staining that's been the bane of this process in the past, neither did I see any solarization. On the first two prints I didn't turn on the white room lights until after the peroxide bleaching, whereas on the second two I turned on the lights after the citric acid but before the peroxide. There doesn't appear to be any difference that I can see; as long as the emulsion is sufficiently acidic so it won't continue to develop from residual chemistry from the first development step.

Since someone will likely ask, I should explain now: the water rinse steps between each major chemical (but not between the citric acid and peroxide) were to prevent contamination of the downstream chemical, since I was making multiple prints using the same chemicals and wanted to preserve them. I'm not certain if this contributes to the lack of staining or other unexpected problems, but it's not a bad idea.

All of these prints were exposed under shaded daylight, not direct sun.

Some good learnings for today, along with more images for the (imaginary?) Infinite Joe Series, helping to confirm what Ethan's already learned. I think it's important to try this process under different conditions (like my darkroom, chemicals and equipment, instead of his), as verification of the process. At least for the warmer months, I now feel confident that we can repeat these results, under shaded daylight. I'm not as certain about the winter months with less UV in the sky, but we'll have to do more testing when the time comes.