Historical Processes

I no longer imagine the news as truthful. Blank spaces glare at me like a pair of glowing eyes. I’m holding my breath in a vast sea of information. The salt and dirt sting my eyes as they widen. Water should be transparent. Words like droplets take up 90% of the earth and I am vulnerable to become lost in the crashing waves beneath the endless blue horizon. Outlets like Fox News are like Megalodons. Imagined giants lurking in the night waters ready and able to consume us. Although they aren’t real, the idea of them is enough to drive people away from the ocean all together. And, these people become unable to explore what dances along the depths or attacks toward the surface or grazes silently for themselves. At times I feel that the only ones capable to explore these mysterious waters are marine specialists. Yet trained in all its complexity, they are still susceptible to its daunting nature. We must cherish an objective truth, rather than monstrous conspiracies that can destroy our ecosystem, as well as our knowledge of what really is. 

Digital negative & pinhole negative

Photogenic drawings

collodion tintype & glass plates, next to salt & albumen prints.

Isabel Hidalgo

Historical Processes

Final Project - Artist Statement

Behind Closed Doors

Historical Processes

Research Paper

Past Exploring Present: Sally Mann, Stephen Berkman, and Wet Collodion

A popular medium for portraits during the late 1800s, Wet Collodion involves coating a glass plate with a clear gelatinous layer to which light-sensitive silver halides might adhere and reveal an image when exposed to light. The requirement to prepare, expose, and develop the sensitized plate before the collodion and silver coatings dried in a matter of 15 minutes creates an image ephemeral, yet timeless.

A beautiful notion to consider is the process’ relation to and dependence on time: how quickly the glass plate needs to be coated to avoid streaking and exposed before the chemical has the chance to dry down. Contemporary artists who employ the laborious process, specifically Sally Mann and Stephen Berkman, utilize the archaic quality of wet collodion to explore displacements between the notions of the past and the present. The medium is the message.

Sally Mann shoots her Southern Landscape images with an 8x10 view camera and antique lenses onto glass plates using the collodion process. She traveled across the South with a portable darkroom in the back of her SUV, making images as cloudy and murky as the history of the region. In her powerful images of Antietam, the site of the bloodiest battle ever held on American soil are ridden with the fog of death as if the battle had just occurred the day before. Using collodion to capture these ridden landscapes, Mann plays with time; she proclaims, “there is a certain synchronicity about the use of the Collodion process for photographing Antietam since that was the process that was used at the actual Battle of Antietam,” (Agosta 154).

Born and raised in Virginia, Mann proclaims her Southern-ness in her photographs as a cloud of melancholy constantly floating over her images. This concept lends itself well to the piercing and haunting clarity of a wet collodion image. Mann succumbed to the “exotingly tempting smell of ether,” her drug of choice; when she was shooting with collodion, she was not simply taking a photograph, she was “fashioning, with fetishistic ceremony, an object whose ragged black edges gave it the appearance of having been torn from time itself,” (Mann 224).

Much like Mann, Stephen Berkman creates images as if they arrive from a time machine rather than a camera. Acting as portals to a past world, Images such as Obscura Object and The Songbird and the Sharpshooter are tableaux vivants remember a time before the advent of the casual snapshot camera. His work is heavily narrative-based, but more like a novel which ends in ellipses. There is a story with a setting and characters, but there is no definite resolution. Time seems to slip from the cracks of the glass.

Berkman uses this process of the past as an effort reimagine the 19th century, and perhaps this is his way of understanding the present. Working with collodion since 1997, Berkman has made a definitive mark in the revival of this historical process. Considered one of the first photographers of the modern era to use this vanished art form, Berkman even resurrects photographic alchemy in a contemporary setting, such as when he shot the album cover for Jack White’s side project The Raconteurs.

Both artists use the collodion process to create work that suggests alternative views to a prevailing historical narrative. While Mann revisits the actual sites of historical events and captures the century-long aftermath, Berkman stages a theatrical display; while Mann’s photographs are poems, Berkman’s are novels.

Work Cited:

Agosta, Jen. “Sally Mann Landscapes .” UCLA, classes.dma.ucla.edu/Spring17/154/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/Sally-Mann-Agosta-DMA-154.pdf.

Hirsch, Robert. “Stephen Berkman: Documentary Photographer of the Mind .” Light Research, lightresearch.net/interviews/BerkmanInterview.pdf.

Mann, Sally. Hold Still: a Memoir with Photographs. Back Bay Books, 2016.

Professor Nichole Frocheur

Historical Process

April 24, 2019

Platinum-Palladium Prints

The platinotype process was invented by William Willis and patented by him in 1873. There are several important variants of the platinotype process including Palladiotype, Platinum- palladium prints, Glycerin- developed platinotype, Satista iron- silver- platinum paper, and Ziatype. In Willis’s first patent, titled “Improvement in Photo- chemical Printing.” he described an early version of the platinotype process, and the chemistry involved silver or lead nitrates into the sensitizing solution. In his second patent, he suggested the possibility of using palladium as an image- forming metal. In Willis’s third patent, he excluded the use of both silver and lead. He also increased the amount of platinum that is being used in the sensitizing solution. The platinotype process was wildly popular, not only among the professional artist but also among the amateur photographers up until the start of World War I. One of the reasons that platinum prints are so desirable is because platinum is the most chemically stable metal found in nature. It was introduced as a stable alternative to the silver-based photographic process. This process was most often used by photographers of the Pictorialist movement in the early 20th century and by commercial photographers to create high-end portraits for clients.

When the platinotype process was first invented and spread to the masses, the chemical was relatively cheap. The cost of platinum paper in the early 1890s was about the same as silver bromide enlarging paper. However, the price of platinum metal began to rise by the early twentieth century when the chemical industry began to use platinum as a catalyst. World War I marked the end of commercial platinotype paper when the British government declared platinum a strategic metal and banned its use in photography.

Irving Penn, one of most famous fashion photographer of the twentieth century, started experimenting with platinum/ palladium printing since the early 1960s. As the cost of platinum escalated during World War I, there were no more commercially available platinum paper. A few artists continued to make platinum paper by hand, however, the process had been long forgotten by the time Penn embraced it in the early 1960s. He successfully transformed his celebrated photos into independent artwork with subtle, rich tonal ranges and luxurious textures that magazines or poster could never transcribe to the audience. Penn experimented with the process for many years, at first, he realized that he needed to coat, expose, and develop his print multiple times in order to achieve the richness and complexity he desired. However, that also meant that he needed to overcome some other technical difficulty, particularly on how to aline his photographs and how to make sure that the paper does not shrink in size after repeated submersion in chemicals. Penn also discovered that platinum produced a lavish tonal image and rich blacks but, used alone, could be “coarse,” while palladium gave delicate tones but lacked true blacks. Later he realized that when platinum and palladium were mixed together with the correct proportions and coated onto the paper multiple time could create the kind of luminous quality that he was looking for.

I was very lucky to be able to see one of Penn’s prints up close and personal at the Armory Show this year. The photograph was Cigarette No.34, the photo consist of a close up of two burnt cigarettes butt. Taking the photograph out of context and viewing it purely for its aesthetic quality. One can really tell that Penn himself is not just one of the best fashion photographer that the world has seen, but also a master printmaker. As mentioned in the previous paragraph, Penn really was able to nail the right proportion of platinum and palladium. The burnt cigarette has a true black that is so dark that it felt like it could trap light. The highlight is warm but with a delicate luminous quality. The quality of this printing process really shines with this print, where viewers can examine the life of these cigarettes, where the part that has been burnt is darker than the ones unburnt. But the transition of these two is very subtle and consistent. The excellent does not stop with the lavish range of tone. But also the texture of the print. Penn was able to use the chemicals to his advantage and show us the disgusting dark and grittiness of cigarette butts through his prints. The cigarettes are rough and matt, but with print overall has this subtle luminosity to it. Cigarette No.34 can and should be the textbook of the platinum-palladium printing process.

Tyler Shields, a contemporary fashion photographer based in LA, best known as “Hollywood’s favorite photographer” photographing every A-list celebrity in the area. Recently I saw a blog post of Shields creating his first platinum print. When comparing his print next to Penn’s print, it is obvious why Penn was not satisfied with his early prints. Shield’s print of women dressed in 20s bathing suit smoking a cigarette does not do justice to this printing process. Shield was only able to showcase the most obvious advantage of printing with platinum palladium, which is its exceptional tonal range. However, even so, he wasn’t able to nail down the smoke coming off the cigarette and the delicate transition of the skin tone, nor the texture of the skin and clothing. It seems harsh of me bashing on someone’s first print, however, it is obvious that Shield is not serious or as invested about this printing process as Penn did. Maybe I had high hopes for the platinum palladium prints to be popular again because a photographer as popular as he is could maybe spark interest for other people. His print might be able to fool the people that are not educated of this process and maybe profit a fortune because of how “special” this alternative printing process. But to the people who know what to look for, his first attempt is less than acceptable and should have kept in his basement like Penn. Platinum printing is an art form itself. The process itself is relatively simple, however, mastering the chemistry and printing process is not something people with a faint of heart could do so. It takes time, blood and sweat to do so. In the world of platinum palladium printing, it is easy to see the people that have actually invested their time to master the process and the ones that don’t.

Cigarette No. 34, New York,1972, printed May 1974

Irving Penn

Historical Fiction By Tyler Shields

Bibliography

“National Gallery of Art.” Irving Penn and the Platinum Printing Process,

www.nga.gov/press/exh/0208/backgrounder-platinum-printing.html.

Shield, Tyler. Historical Fiction.

Stulik, Dusan, and Art Kaplan. The Atlas of Analytical Signatures of Photographic Processes. ,

2013. Internet resource.

W.

Final project (2019)

The passing of time, death, nature and space

Silver gelatin prints from 35mm B/W film

5x7 inches

Second project: An Afternoon Walk Around Washington Square Park

“Currently, the average New Yorker throws away 25 pounds of trash a week —

16 at home and 9 at work.

Over a year, New York City produces 14 million tons of trash.”

“76 percent of the city’s residential trash is sent to landfills.”

...Trash

I bought a cup of coffee in the morning.

I received a package in the afternoon.

I removed my make up with a cotton pad at night.

...Trash

As I walked around the city to photo trash, I was surprised by the amount of trash bags and trash cans in this place.

But this was the first time I thought about trash in this city.

In this project, I wanted to show the relationship between New York City and trash: Trash is a crucial part of New York City.

I used a digital pinhole camera to demonstrate this idea.

Déjà Rêvé

Mark Wei

One for Sorrow

Nina Dietz

I began this work in the midst of my longest depression.  It was the end of March and It was supposed to be warmer, but the sun was failing me, and I needed it to lift me up.   I deal with seasonal affected disorder (SAD) every year, but this year I was dealing with a major depression in addition to the usual seasonal affected disorder. I do a lot of reading when I am depressed, even more so than usual, and I ended up with an ancient, medieval nursery rhyme stuck in my head.  I adapted a version to use as the basis for my photos.  

One for Sorrow,

Two for Mirth,

Three for a Letter,

Four for a Birth,

Five for the Meek,

Six for the Bold,

Seven for a Secret,

Never to be Told

Ancient Tale, 2019, Beng Mealea, Cambodia

by Nikki

I woke up in the moisture, among every shade of greens. I breathe, as hard as the forest and relics besides me breathe. In this very moment through the long river of time, I lost track of time, while I caught time right in front of me: they’ve all recorded time. The various shade of greens are the ages of the woods, the bumps and scars on the bricks are the ages of temples. On the darkest green shade and the roughest textured bricks, I grasp a tale from distant history.

Ancestors in Cambodia built their sacred temple in the most secluded original forest. It was the solumnest veneration for their deity, while it has also, unintentionally, sealed the millennium of civilization. Fortunately while unfortunately, for years, this place has been hard to reach. The distance and shelter saved this sacred site from wars and plunders, from the Khmer Rouge Massacre, and from waves of tourists’ devastation. Dynasty changed. Civilization aged. But Life and the sediments of life remained. Until Years after years, trees and bricks no longer fight for space and gravity, until they coexist and accompany one another. Until I encountered them, and encountered the most romantic tale on Earth ever since.